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Gillyflorer ... ſt: Bentley, *C. Bo '-º-º: . .º. Zen-ren : * Afree rºz, 27, c.ca/~irl -ºt, 74°o tee’? .97, oralehee J. -/tara.'hºp A. 12arker. jº O 2 ~ *----- O F WIS DO T H E Second and Third Books. Written Originally in French, B Y T H E Sieur de C H A R R O N Made Engliſh By G B O R G E S T A N H o P B, D. D. late Fellow of King’s-College in Cambridge, from the Beſt Edition, Correčted and enlarg’d by the Author a little before his Death. L O N D O N : |Pinted for M. Gillyflower, M. Bently, H. Romvick, f. Tomſon, W. Freeman, T. Goodwin, M. Wotton, j. Walthoe, S. Manſhip, and R. Parker. 1697, | ! To the Ho No U R A BLE Sir WILLIAM ELLYs, B A R O N E. T. S 1 R, £º E RE it merely for the Pomp, §3 or the Protećtion of an Ho- º nourable Name, that I take § the Liberty of prefixing Yours * <> # before this Work, thoſe pur- ; poſes of doing it had been abundantly anſwered. But I confeſs an Ambition higher than either of Theſe, and deſign this Addreſs, as a means to know a Perſon more intimately, whoſe Cha- raēter creates Honour and Reſpećt in all that are acquainted with it. An Ambition º: 36 able The Epiſtle Tedicatory. able at leaſt, in One whoſe Happineſs it is, to have ſome ſort of Pretenſion to be gratified in a Deſire, which he cannot but entertain and indulge. - - Where Providence confers the External Ad- vantages of Life only, the Greater and moſt va- luable part is ſtill behind. Very few are more than half-bleſt ; and of Them who are, or call themſelves unhappy, the Generality are miſèra- ble, not from real Want of what they need, but from an Incapacity of enjoying what they have. Hence it is ſtill accounted a Moot-point in Philoſophy, whether Proſperity or Adverſity, Plenty or Penury, require greater management and addreſs. * One of ſome Name, we know, among thoſe Sages durſt not ſo much as truſt himſelf with the Temptation of Riches. You, Sir, very juſtly reproach his behaviour with Raſhneſs and Folly, by ſhewing, that not the Sea, but a Soul large and diffuſive as the Sea rather, is neceſſary to deliver a man from the danger of a plentiful Fortune. This does not only ſecure, but render Him and It a publick Bleſfing, by A&ts of Goodneſs, Munificence, Hoſpitality; By cultivating thoſe Social Virtues whereby Mankind are ſuſtained, cemented, en- deared to one another, and all thoſe important and beneficial Ends accompliſhed, to which the Giver of theſe Good Gifts deſigns they ſhould be ſerviceable. - * Cretes. Thº The Epiſtle Tedicatory. The Difficulties, under which moſt Men miſcarry, are not avoided by abandoning the World, but by uſing it in ſo maſterly a manner, as always to keep above it. Ambition and Avarice ſometimes inhabit the moſt retired Cloiſters; and are (no doubt) ſometimes too abſolute Strangers to Quality, and Buſineſs, and Fortune. Every one is valuable in proportion she is Uſeful; but Uſeful They can be but very little, who induſtriouſly decline the occaſions of being ſo. The Man of Converſation and Civil Society is therefore that Pattern of Wiſdom, de- ſigned and drawn by this Author. And to the ſame purpoſe, all perfect Syſtems of Morality enlarge upon the different Capacities of Men; becauſe the Offices reſulting from thence make the chief part of Chriſtian, as well as Human Prudence. Theſe are the Talents peculiar to each perſon, and his proper Buſineſs diſtinčt from the reſt of the World. Now, Sir, when Charron accordingly treats of The true and genuine Uſe of Riches, of a Mind capable of Stemming a full tide of Plen- ty; of the Integrity of Magiſtrates in Diſtribu- tion of Juſtice, of the Fidelity and Vigilance of Wiſe and Worthy Patriots in the Service of their Country, and Defence of its juſt Rights; of the Tenderneſs and Prudence of Parents, and the affečtionate Deference and Duty of Chil- dren; when, I ſay, Theſe and other Deſcrip- tions paſſed through my hands, there needed - ºut: The Epiffle Dedicatory: but little reflećtion, to bring to a Relation's re- membrance, a very eminent Inſtance of theſe ſeveral Civil and Domeſtick Virtues. Be pleaſed therefore, Sir, to aſſert your own Excellencies : And what Your Example al- ready recommends to the World, proceed yet more to enforce, by accepting a Treatiſe in- tended to draw Men to theſe Reſemblances of Your ſelf, as an Argument of that reſpećt, with which I am, S I R, Tour moſt Obedient, Humble Servant, George Stanhope. T O D R E F A C E. A VING in the former Book explained and in- fifted upon the ſeveral Methods, by which Man may be let into a competent knowledge of Him- ſelf, and the Condition of Humane Nature; which is the firſt part of our Undertaking, and a very proper Intro- dućtion to Wiſdom : The next thing in order, is to enter upon the 'Dočirines and Precepts of Wiſdom it ſelf. Now That ſhall be done in this Second Book, by laying down ſome General Rules and Directions, reſerving for the bu- fineſs of our. Third and Laff, thoſe that are more Par- ticular, and appropriated to ſpecial Perſons and Circum- fances, according to which their Duties vary in propor- tion to their reſpective Conditions. It was a very we- ceſſary Preamble in the mean while , to call Mºs thoughts home, and fix them upon themſelves ; to exhort and inſtruth them to handle, probe, and micely to exa- mine their Nature; that ſo being thus brought to a to- lerable knowledge and ſenſe of their Infirmities and De- fetis, and ſadly convinced of the miſerable Condition they are by mature in, they may be put into a better Capacity of having thoſe healing and wholſome Remedies applied, which are neceſſary, in order to their Recovery and Amendment. And theſe Remedies are no other than the Inſtrućtions and Exhortations, proper for the attaining true Wiſdom, n A 2. But The P R E FA C E. But alas ! It is a prodigious, and a melancholy thing to conſider, how ſtupid and regardleſs Mankind are of their Happineſs and Amendment. What a ſtrange Tem- per is it for a Man, not to be at all ſolicitous , to have the very Errand and Buſineſ; he was ſent into the World about , well dome 2. Every body is infinitely fond and covetous of Living, but ſcarce any body is concerned, or takes any manner of Thought, for Living as becomes him. This is the very Art which ſhould be our Chief, our only Study; and yet it is that which we are leaſt Maſters of, leaſt diſpoſed to learn. Our Inclinations, and Deſigns, our Studies, and Endeavours are (as Experi- ence daily ſhews ) vaſtly different, even from our very Cradles, or as ſoon as we began to be capable of any. They vary according to the Temper and Conſtitution of our Bodies, the Company we keep, the Education we are in- fituted by , the infinite Accidents and Occaſions of our Lives; but ſtill none of us caſts his Eyes that way, none makes it his Endeavour to manage theſe to the beſt Ad- vantage, mone attempts heartily to improve in Wiſdom; may, we do not at all lay this moſt meceſſary Matter to heart, we ſcarce allow it ſo much as a ſingle Thought. Or if at any time it comes in our way, accidentally, and by the by ; we hear and attend to it, juſt as we would to a Tale that is told ; or a piece of News, that in no degree concerns us. The Diſcourſe perhaps is plea- fant and entertaining to ſome (and but to ſome meither, for many will not endure, nor give it a patient hearing) but even thoſe ovho are contented, may delighted to hear it, yet hear to very little purpoſe. The words and ſound tickle their Senſes, and that’s all they do. For as to the thing it ſelf, That makes no impreſſion, gains no effeem, kindles no deſires, at leaſt in this ſo univerſally Corrupt, and Degenerate Age of ours. In order to the being made duly ſenſible of the true worth of Wiſdom, and how much it deſerves from us, there ſeems to be ſome particular Turn in our firſt Frame, ſome Original Aptitude and Air in our z - - Nature -------- ----------- The P. R. E. F. A. C. E. Nature and Complexiom. If Men muſt take pains, they will much more willingly employ their time, and exert their Strength and Parts in the purſuit of Things, whoſe Effects are gay, and glittering, external and ſenſible, ſuch as Ambition, and Avarice, and Paſſion, propoſe to them ; But as for Wiſdom, whoſe Fruits are ſilent and gentle, in- termal, and unſeen, it bath no Attraélives at all for them. O wretched Men what falſe Meaſures do we take, and how fatally are we deluded ? We prefer Winds and Storms for the ſake of their Noiſe, where there is nothing but Air and Emptineſs, before Body and ſolid Subſtance, which is calm and ſtill; Opinion and Reputation, before Truth and Real Merit. Surely Man (as was ſaid in the Firſt Book) is no better than Vanity and Miſery, when ſo averſe from, ſo uncapable of Wiſdom. Every Man is tainted with the Air which he breathes and dwells in, goes in the beaten Road, and lives like his Neighbours; and when this is made a Rule, how can it be expected he ſhould take another Courſe 2 We follow the Track, and hunt by the Scent; nay we urge our own Vices upon other People, we are eager and warm in propagating them ; we diſſemble our Paſſions, dreſ, and trick them up, and then put them upon our Com- panions. None calls after us to ſtop our Career; we are not to expect it. We are all out of the way, and likely never to corrett our Error, without the ſpecial favour of Heaven, and a great and generous ſtrength and firmneſs of Nature at the ſame time, diſcerning enough to obſerve the common Error in which all are intangled, but ſcarce any are ſenſible of it; daring enough, to be ſingular in minding that which no body elſe minds; and hardy and reſolute enough to judge and to live in a method quite different from the reſt of the World. There have been indeed, ſome, though very few ſuch brave Men : I ſee them ſtill, their Memories and Names are ſweet to this day; and I ſmell their Aſhes like a rich Perfume, with incredible Admiration and Delight. But - - what IV The P R E F A C E. what hath been the effeś of this uncommon judgment 2 and how have they behaved themſelves with it f Truly they are for the moſt Democritus, or Heraclitus reviv- ed. Some ſee the Errors and Follies of Mankind, and when they have done, they only make a jeft of them ; They divert and entertain themſelves and others, by a Co- mical Repreſentation of a very Tragical thing ; as if no more were neceſſary to teach Men Truth and Virtue, than merely to expoſe Falſhood and Vice. They laugh at the World; and the World is but too ridiculous; but while they make themſelves merry and good Company, they quite forget to be good-natur'd and charitable. Others are feeble and poor-ſpirited, they mince the matter, and dare not ſpeak out; they ſoften and diſguiſe their Language, mingle and ſweeten their Propoſitions to render them palatable, and make men ſwallow them before they are aware, and in a Maſs of other things, where they ſhall not taſte, or ſcarce ever be ſenſible of them. They do not ſpeak home, diſtinčily and fully; but expreſs themſelves, like the Oracles of old, in Terms ambiguous, and ſubjeć to Evaſions. I, for my part, come long after them both in Time, and Merit; but I am blunt and down- right, and deliver my ſenſe plainly aud clearly. I give an Idea of Wiſdom, and Inſtrušions for attaining it, ſuch as the H%rld perhaps hath not been uſed to; and Iſhall not be ſurpri- ſed, if the newneſs of my Matter and Method expoſe this lit- tle Tratt to the Cenſures of ſuchPerſons,as have neither Tem- per, nor Ability to judge calmly and maturely of the Matter, but accuffom themſelves to condemn and run down every thing which does not hit their Humour, or agree with the No. tions they have imbibed already. But who can help that, or ſecure himſelf from their Cenſures and Diſpleaſure ? Let Them take their courſe; I queſtion not in the mean while, but the meek and traćtable , and homeſtly diſpoſed, and likewiſe the Sublime and Celeſtial Spirits will paſs an equi- table conſtrušion upon my Writings. Theſe two Extremes - (27te The P. R. E. F. A. C. E. are the Seats of Quiet and Serenity; The middle Region is the place where all the Diſorders, and Storms, and Meteors are formed, as was obſerved before; and therefore thoſe an- gry Mem ači in agreement with their Principles, and do no- thing but what their Capacity and Condition diſpoſes them to. Now in order to give a rough and general Draught of Wiſdom, and particularly of that part, which is the Subječf of this preſent Book ; we may divide the Matter of it into fºur Points, or general Conſiderations. The Firſt cºnfts of ſuch things as are Preparative, or proper Prediſpoſitions to Wiſdom; and They are Tivo. 1. Firſt a diſentangling the Mind from all thoſe Obſtructions that pre- vent, or retard its Improvement; and of theſe ſome are Ex- ternal, ſuch as the Errors and Vices of the World , which we derive and ſuck in from abroad; and other, internal, which have their Birth and Beginning from our Selves ; of which Nature are our own Appetites and Paſſions; 2. The Other is a full, entire, and univerſal Liberty of the Mind ; whereby it thinks and judges freely. The Second is concerned in laying the Foundations of Wiſ. dom firm and durable; and Theſe are alſo Two; 1. True and Eſſential Integrity, and 2. The Fixing to our ſelves ſome cer- tain End firſt, and then chalking out a convenient Rule for aur Lives and Aëtions, by the keeping cloſe to which, we may be conducted to, and arrive at that End. The Third contributes to the raiſing this Building upon thºſe Foundations; that it, laying on and finiſhing thiſ v. ral Functions and Duties of Wiſdom, which are Šix. Three whereof principally regard our ſelves, and concern every man conſidered ſingly, and as a Man; and theſe are 1. Piety; an Inward and due Maſtery over his Thoughts and Deſires; and 3-a decent deportment and equal Temper of Mind,in aff Accidents, whether of proſperous or adverſe Fortune; The ather V1 The P. R. E. F. A C E. other Three regard him as a Member of Society, and ex- tend to others as well as himſelf; which are, I.A. Due obſer- vance of Laws, and Cuſtoms, and Ceremonies; 2. A modeſ# and obliging Converſation with others; and 3. Prudence in the management of all kind of Buſineſs. The Fourth is made up of the Fruits, and good Effects of Wiſdom, which are Two, 1. The being conſtantly fit, and in a readineſ to die; and 2. The maintaining a true and uninterrupted Tranquility of Spirit; which is indeed the Crown and Glory of Wiſdom, and the very Supreme Good and Happineſs, of which Humane Nature is Capable. Theſe taken all together make Twelve Points in the whole, and each being allowed a diffiné Conſideration by it ſelf, this Book will accordingly contain juſt ſo many Chapters. O ş ----------- W ISD O M. Three B O O K S. The Author's Preface. Wherein the Title, the Subjeći Matter, the Teſign, and the Method of this Treatiſe are explained. - Efore we enter upon the Book it ſelf, it is requiſite the Reader ſhould be well infor- med what he is to underſtand by that Wiſdom, which is the Name, the Subječ, and the Emd of it 5 and after what mammer it is intended to be treated of in the following Sheets. Now every one at the very firſt hearing, un- derſtands by Wiſdom ſome particular and un- common Accompliſhment, whereby a Man is di- ſtinguiſh'd and ſet above the Vulgar, by a great- er Ability, and more maſterly Readineſ, whe- ther in Good or Evil. For tho' there be not the ſame Propriety indeed in the Expreſſion, 3. when The PR E FA C E. when converted to the worſe Senſe; yet it is uſed either way, and the Scripture it ſelf maker mention of ſome Perſon, Wiſe to do Evil. Thuſ then it does not by any means import a really Good and Commendable Quality of the ... Mind, but in general any ſort of Knowledge or Skill, exquiſite in the Degree, be the Obječf and Employment of it what it will. In this Senſe a Tyrant, or a Pyrate, or a Robber, may have this Tille apply'd to him ; mo leſs than a King, or a Pilot, or a Captain 5 becauſe all we intend by it is only Prudence, and Com- dući, and a perfed Underſtanding in the bu- ſineſ of his Profſſion. Hence it comes to paſs, that Folly is oppoſed to Wiſdom, not only as it denotes Extravagance and Vice, but in general any ſort of Indiſcretion, or meammeſ of Attain- mentſ. For Wiſdom gives us an Idea of ſome- thing extraordinary and lofty in its kind; as the contrary does of ſomewhat little, and low, and ſhort of the common Pitch. Take Wiſdom, in a Good or a Bad Senſe, Tiro Thingſ are manifftly included in it ; Firſt, A Sufficiency of Mind, which implies itſ being furniſhed with all things neceſſary for its purpoſe 5 and, Se- condly, The Excellency or more than commone meaſure of that Proviſion 5 for to give a Marz right to this Denomination , , it is no leſ, me- ceſſºry that he ſhould enjoy theſ, Qualities in a great and eminent degree. Thus you ſee the largeſt and moſt vulgar Notion of Wiſdom, ac- cording to which Men commonly tell you 5 that Wiſe Men are very ſtarce; that they who are ſuch, have a Right to direc; and prºſºde over 1 Others 5 ** The PR EF A C E. Others ; and, in matters of difficulty, to be con- ſulted like ſo many Oracles ; from whence it is very frequently ſaid, that Men take the judg- ment of the Wiſe, and let better Heads deter- mine for them. But mon, if ire come to define the thing more micely, and fix a right Notion of it, we ſhall not find ſo general an Agreement. For Wiſłom means one thing with the gene- rality of the World, another among Philoſophers, and ſomewhat different from both, in the Ae- ceptation and Treatiſeſ of Divineſ. Theſe Three are the ſeveral Stage; and Claſſes of Men, un- der which all the World is comprehended. The Two laſt have the Advantage, and lead Men by Rules and Precept r, and a firiđer Conſiderati- on of Things: The Firſt looks upon Thing, but very ſlightly, and take up with very looſe and im- perfect Notions of them. Now it may very truly be ſaid, that there are Three ſorts of Wiſdom, Divine, Humane, and Worldly ; theſe relate and bear proportion to God, to Nature in its primitive Purity and Perfection 5 and to Nature lapſed and deprav'd. Concerning each of theſe ſorts, the Three Orders of Men juſt now inſtanc'd in deliver themſelves, each according to their Condition and Capacity. But more properly and peculiarly thus 5 The Pulgar are moſt skilled and converſant in the Worldly, the Philoſophers about the Humane, and the Divines about the Divine Wiſdom, as their particular Buſineſ, and Study. The Loweſt of theſe is Worldly Wiſdom, and this varies according to the great Ends which it.propoſes to it ſelf, Riches, Pleaſure, or Ho- 3, 2 *707tr, The PR E FA C E. mour. With regard to theſe it degenerates into Avarice, Luxury, or Ambition 3 according to 1 John St. John's Diviſion of it, All that is in the iii. 16. World is the Luſt of the Fleſh, the Luſt of the Eyes, and the Pride of Life. From Jamiii.15 mhewce St. James hath given it thoſe ſcanda- lou, Charaćfers of Earthly, Senſual, Deviliſh. Now This is what both Philoſophy and Divi- mity take upon them to reprove, and endeavour to ſuppreſs and reform. They pronounce it to be mo better than Folly and Madneſs, and ſo ac- counted in the ſight of God. And accordingly you will find mo mention made of This in the fºllowing Treatiſe of Wiſdom, except it be, to diſallon, and to condemn it. The Divine, and Higheſt of theſe Three ſorts is treated of by Philoſophy and Religion, after a manner ſomewhat different from each other. As for what the Common and Vulgar ſort of Peo- ple uſually ſay, or are capable of ſaying upon this Occaſion, 1 omit it all, as too mean and lom to have any place in our Conſideration, and rather a Profumation of the Subječ, than other- wiſe. Philoſophers repreſent it as a Matter wholly Speculative, the Knowledge of Firſt Prim- ciples, and the Hidden Cauſes of Things 5 and laſily, the Higheſ; and Supreme Cauſe, GO D Himſelf; which with other, abſtraded Notions, is the proper Buſineſs of Metaphyſick; in parti- cular. This reſides entirely in the Underſtand- ing, and if its chief Happineſ, and Perfe- étion 5 'tis the firſt and moſt ſublime of all the Intelle&ual Virtues and Excellencies, which are capable of ſulfting without Probity, or Aðion, 42 y” ^ -º - The PRE FA CE. or any Moral Virtue. Divines on the comtrary do not ſo confine it to Speculation, as not to extend it to Pračice too 5 for they make it the Knowledge of things pertaining to God, ſuch as ſhould enable us to form a judgment of Matters to regulate our Lives and ačions by : And This they tell you is of Two Sort: ; The One acquired by Study and Induſtry, mot much unlike what I mention'd to be the Science in- tended by Philoſophers 5 The Other infuſed, and coming from above ; This is the Firſt of thoſe, (which are ſometimes termed the Se- ven) Gifts of the Spirit, with regard where- unto he is ſtyled The Spirit of wiſdom 5 ſuch as reſts only upon the Righteous, and the Pure; and, as the Book of Wiſdom truly obſerves, Wiſł. I. will not enter into a malicious Soul , nor iv. dwell in the Body that is ſubjećt unto Sin. This is what the preſent Treatiſe is not in- tended for neither 5 but it the Subječ of my Firſt Truth and thoſe other Works of mime, which, are properly Treatiſes of Divinity, and Religious Diſcourſes. From hemce my Reader eaſily perceives that Humane Wiſdom is the real Title, and Subječ of the following Book 5 of which it is fit ſome ſhort Deſcription ſhould here he premiſed, which may ſtand for the Argument, or ſummary Ac- count of the whole Work, Now, the Common Accounts of this Matter, as they are various and very diſtant from one another, ſo are they all narrow and imperfº. The vulgar and moſt general Notion of it, amounts to no more than Circumſpection, Addreſs, and Prudent Behavi- a 3 0%;" The P R E F A C E. our im Pºſ. and Converſation. Thk indeed iſ like the Pulgar and a Thought mortly of Them 5 nho place all Excellence in Acţion, amºl Sherr, and outrard Advantageſ 5 and conſider mo good Quality any farther, than ar it is ob- ſerva and admiral. They are entirely devoted to Eyes and Eary 5 the Internal Motions of the Mind are of little or no Conſ duence with this ſort of Men ; and therefore, in their Accepta- tion of the Matter, Wiſłom may ſubft without either Piety or Polity ; for All they require from it is a good Outſide, and Appearance, amºl ſuch Eaffneſs of Conduct and Agreeable Manage- ment, aſ ſhall approve a Man'ſ Diſcretion and his Party. Others again miſtake it for a Rough- meſ, and Singularity of Temper and Behaviour; a particular Stiffneſ of Faſhion, Objiimacy in Opinionſ, Affected Expreſſions, and a Way of Living out of the Common Road. And there- fore thoſe that value themſelves upon thºſe Qua- lities they call Philoſophers, whem in truth, to return a little of their own jargon back again upon them, They are nothing better than com- ceited Humouriſt r, Fantaſtical and Capriciour Coxcombs. This mom, according to the Scheme and Meaſureſ purſued in this Book, if, in plain Engliſh, Extravagance and Folly. The Nature them of this Wiſdom muſt be learn’d from ſome other Hand 5 that is, from Philoſopherſ and Divines, who have both explain’d and treated of this Matter in their Moral Tračir. . The Former handle it as their proper Buſineſs. For they confider Men as they are by Nature, aud with regard to praúice : But the Latter riſe The PR E FA C E. riſe higher, and aſpire to infuſed and ſuperma- tural Gracer, ſuch as are Speculative and more than Humane 5 that is, Divine Wiſdome, and with Regard to Faith. Hence it comes to paſt, that the Former is more extenſive and large, as undertaking not only to direct private, but publick Duties, Societies as well as ſingle Per- ſons are inſtruded by it 5 Whatever can be me- ceſſary or advantagious to Familier, Communi- ties, Common Wealths and Kingdoms, all falls within itſ Compaſ, and juriſdićion. Divini- ty on the Other Hand is more ſilent and ſpa- ring upon theſe Accounts and Aims chiefly, at the Eternal Happineſ, and Salvation of parti- cular Perſons. Beſider, The Mammer and Air of their Treatiſes is very different ; That of Phi- loſophy more free, and eaſte, and entertaining 5 that of Divinity, more plain, and authoritative, and with leſ; Pains to recommend it ſelf to Men's Fancies and Palatſ. Philoſophy therefore, which is the Elder of the Two, aſ Nature muſt have been antecedent to our Supernatural Aſſi- ſtances, trieſ to inſinuate it ſelf and win Men's Favours, ~ - * * * So as to join Inſtruáion with Delight, Profit with Pleaſure— - Lord - Roſcommon: And therefore ſhe dreſſºr and adorns her ſelf with Dif ourſes, Arguments, Turns of Wit and Flights of Fancy 3 Apt Examples, and moving "Simul & Jucunda & idonea dicere. vitae. Leãorem delettando, pariterque monendo—Horat, • a 4 Simi- The PR E FA C E. Similituder. Ingeniour Expreſſions, uſeful Apo- thegm r , and all the Gracer of Art and Elo- quence. Divinity comes in a commanding ſtraim, and thinks it a Diminution of her Majeſty to deſcend to ſuch popular and mean Methods. And accordingly there wantſ a great deal of that Freedom and Gaiety, and (if I may ſo ſay) Cheerfulneſ; and good Humour in thir, which you are to expect in Philoſophy, which yet muſt be ſo tempered, as mot to degenerate into Trifle and Meanneſ, but ſtill continue to be truly Gene- rous and Brave. It muſt be allow'd, that Phi- loſophers have acquitted themſelves admirably well in this particular 5 not only in the Inſtru- tfive, but the Moving and Perſuaſive Part 5 Jetting off all their Virtues to the beſt Advan- tage, and taking Care, that all the Heroick Ex- cellence of them ſhall appear in its juſt Dignity and Proportions. Onder which Title of Phi- loſophers I comprehend not only ſuch as the World have thought fit to Digniff with the Fame of Wiſdom, as Thales, Solon, and thoſe that were of the ſame Strain, about the time of Cyrus, Croeſus, and Piſiſtratus; Nor them only of the mext in Succeſſion, who taught and profift Wiſdom publickly, as Pythagoras, So- crates, Plato, Ariſtotle, Ariſtippus, Zeno, An- tiſthenes ; who are all of them Heads and Maſters in their Art 5 mor their Diſciples and Followers who afterwards divided into particu- lar Seás 5 but I include likewiſe all thoſe great Men who remdred themſelves exemplary for Vir- the amd Wiſdom, as Phocion, Ariſtides, Peri- cles, Alexander, (mhom Plutarch dignifies ºff. - - - **** ** -- - - •' . . ** - - - the * : *. - The PR E F A C E. the Charačer of Philoſopher as well as King) Epaminondas, and the reſt of the brave Greeks. The Fabricii, Fabrii, Camilli, the Cato's, the Torquati, Reguli, Lelii, and Scipio's among the Romans, moſt of them Military Men and Commanders of Armies. Opon this Account, though I do not refuſe, or diſregard the Authorities of Divines, yet I have more frequent recourſe to thoſe of Huma- # and Philoſophers in the following Treatiſe. ad I deſign'd to prepare Mem for a Cloiſter, or a Life of ſuch Perfe&iom, as aſpires above the Precepts, and aims at the Perféâion o Evangelical Counſels, then indeed my Subječ would have obliged me to keep cloſe to thoſeAuthors: But ſince I am training a Mam up for the World, and forming him for Buſineſ, and mixt Converſation, Humane and mot Divine Wiſdom is the proper Accompliſhment for me to recom- memd, and the Method of anſwering my Pur- Olć. ºw. therefore in general Terms, and ac- cording to the Nature of the Thing, We muſt, in Agreement with Philoſophers and Diviner, acknowledge, that this Humane Wiſdom conſiſts in a Rećtitude of the Man, when every part within and without, his Thoughts, and Words and Aïions, and every Motion is Graceful, and Noble, and what is for the Honour of his Na- ture. For this is the Excellence of a Man, conſidered as a Man 3 ſo that, as we call That Piece of Workmanſhip Perfeit, which hath all its Parts entire, and is finiſht according to the miceſt Rules of Art: He is in like manner ſaid - - - to w . The PR EF A C E. to be a wiſe Man who underſtands upon all Occaſion; how to ſhew himſelf a Man, by ačing in perfeół Comformity to the Fundamental and Firſt Rules of Humane Nature ; Or, to ſpeak more Particularly, He that it well acquainted with himſelf in particular, and Mamkind in ge- meral; that preſerves himſelf from all the Picer, the Errors, the Paſſions, the Defečis incident to him, as well from the inmard Cauſe of his own Mind 5 as the outward, proceeding from Cuſtom and Common Opinion; that aſſert; the Native Freedom of his Mind, and hath a large univerſal Soul 5 that conſiders and judges every . . thing, without enſlaving himſelf to any 5 that di- rečis all his Aimſ and Ağions ſo as that they ſhall agree with Nature, that it, Pure, uncorru- pted Reaſon, the Primitive Law and Light in- ſpired by God, and which ſhineſ ſtill in every Breaſt 5. The Model by which the wiſe Man ſquares his own private judgment. That in his outward Behaviour complies with the Lawr, and Cuſtoms, and Ceremonies of the Country where he dwells 5 that demeans himſelf toward others with Diſcretion and Prudence 5 iſ always firm and conſiſtent with himſelf, pleaſed and con- tented; without any diſcompoſure of Mind ex- peãing and entertaining, any Accident whatſoe- ver, and eſpecially Death, the laſt and moſt ter- rible of them all. All theſe Stroker or Limer, which go to the making up this Idea, may be ...f to Four, that are the principal and moſt commanding of all the º The Knowledge of a Man's ſelf ; Free and Generous Largemeſ of Mind; The ačing in Conformity with Nature (which The P. R. E. F. A C E. .* which is of an Extent ſo large as whem right- ly underſtood, to be ſingly and by it ſelf a Rule fufficient) and true Content and evenneſs o Temper. For theſe are Qualifications which me. wer meet, except only in the wiſe Man. He that is deftive in any one of them, does not come up to the Charaćier. He that either mi- flakes his own Condition, or whoſe Mind is in any ſort of Bondage either to his own Paſſi- ons, or to the Common Vogue 3 that is partial, and ty'd up to any particular Notions, crampt up ## Thoughts, and cuts himſelf out from his Na- tive Right of examining, and judging every Thing. He that lives in Contradičion to Na- ture (that is, Right Reaſon) upon what Pre- tence ſoever he forſake it 5 whether he be ſe- duced by Paſſion, or Opinion 5 FIe that trips and ſtaggers through Trouble, or Terror, or Diſcon- tent ; and lives in dread of Death ; This Man is mot, cannot be Wiſe. Thuſ you have in lit- tle the Piece, which this fºllowing Treatiſe de- ſigns to draw in its full Proportions. Particu- larly the Second Book, which conſiſts of the Ge- meral Ruler, and a Deſcription of Wiſlom in the groſs 5 and this indeed is more properly mine, than either of the others 5 ſo peculiarly ſuch, and ſo full to my purpoſe, that I once had Thoughts of ſending it into the World alone. And what I have here deſcribed in Words, the Graver hath dome with his Style, in the Frontis-Piece of this Book, which the Reader will find an Explanation of, immediately after this Pre- face. - Now P. R. E. F A C E. Now there are two. Things, which principal. ly conduce to this Wiſdom, and help Men for- wards in the Attainment of it. The Firſt of Theſe is a Good Conſtitution, or Temperament #. the Brain, which makes us capable of ſuch mprovements, as our own Care and Induſtry ſhall be able to acquire. Of how very great Com- fequence this #, and how far it falls under the Power of Men to contribute to it, you mill find at large in the XIII. Chap. of the Firſt, and the XIV. Chap. of the Third Book. The Second is the Study of Philoſophy; mot all the Branches of it equally, but the Moral Part chiefly 5 yet ſo as that the Natural be not wholly meglected. For this is our Candle to enlighten, our Guide to dired, our Rule to chalk out the Way for us ; It explaims and giveſ us true Idea's of the Law of Nature, and by this means fºrmiſhes a Man for every part of his Duty as a Man 3 whether it concern him in Publick or in Private 5 in Company or Alone ; as a Member of a Family, or of a State 5 it ſweetens and takes off all the Beaſt in us, makes us tame, and gentle, and good-natured 5 faſhions and poliſhes this rude Maſs, and forms it into º In ſhort, This is the true Learning 5 all the reſt a Man is capable of is mere Vanity in compariſon 5 at leaſt it is in no degree neceſ- ſary, and in a much leſs degree uſeful. For here we learn both to Live and to Die well 5 and this is the whole we have to take Care of: It teaches a generous and noble Integrity, and Homeft Prudence 3 and well adviſed Probity ; Juch as raiſe a Man above little Ends, and low The PR E F A C E. low Reſpects, and put him upon Virtue from the more exalted and Divine Principles, for the ſake of its own Excellence, and the Senſe that this is what becomes him to do. But alas ! This Second Help is almoſt as generally neglect- ed, or as ill uſed as the former. For the ge- merality of the World are ſo entirely taken up with worldly Wiſdom, that they give themſelves little or mo trouble about this which I am mow memtioning. Thus Nature and Induſtry muſt both do their parts, in order to a Man's obtaining Wiſdom. He who hath been kindly dealt with by Nature, and brings the Diſpoſiti- on to Wiſdom with him, in a convenient Tem- per of Brain, will find good Aūions and Man- mers flow very naturally from hence, and feel himſelf advanc'd a great way, without his own Pains : And thoſe Pains need mot be very great, where he is not ſo much obliged to conquer, as to promote Nature, and moves with ſpeed and inclimation towards the Prize he aims at: But if the Temper on the other hand be amiſ, All will be difficult and ſtrained: Induſtry muſt then correà and ſupply, oppoſe and ſubdue Na- ture; as Socrates obſerved of himſelf, that by infinite Pains, and laborious Study of Philoſo- phy, he had at laſt got the better of a very ill Diſpoſition. In proportion to theſe two Helpf, there are on the other Hand two Hinderances, or power- ful Countermines, which carry Men into Folly; the one matural, the other acquir’d. The For- mer proceeds from the Diſiemper of the Brain, whether that be Original or Accidental 5 by this - ſºč4%f The PRE FA C E. means it happens ſometimes to be too ſoft, or too moiſt, or the Parts of which it conſiſts are too heavy and groſ, 3 from whence proceed Dulneſs of Apprehenſion, Weakneſs of judgment, Dark. and confuſed AVotions of Thingſ, flat, and low, and little Thoughts, ſuch as we generally find among the mean and Illiterate ſort of People : Or elſe in the other Extreme, It is too hot and dry, which diſpoſes the Perſon to be furious and bold, extravagant and infračable in Pice. Theſe are the two Extremer, like Fire and Water, Mercury and Lead, each of them improper fºr |Wiſdom, which requires a ſtrong and vigorolºr, but at the ſame time a fixt and ſteady Mind 5 and ſuch as in the midji of all its Gallantry and Firmneſs, may be manageable, and yielding, and modeft. This Second Defect however, of the two, ſeems the eaſier to be redreſt 5 the Firſ is hardly curable. - - - The acquir’d Obſtručion proceeds either from Want of all Inſtruction, or from being Il' in- ſtručed; which, among other thingſ, conſiſ very much in ſtrong Prepoſſeſſions, wherewith the Mind waſ early timãur'd, and ſo finds it ſelf capti- wated to them, mot able to get above theſe firſt Impreſſions, nor to think freely and impartially. Such Men we commonly ſay are Headjirong, and touch'd in the Cromm, Whimſical, and wed- ded to their own Opinions : And, if to that Obſtimacy of Humour, there happen to be added any degree of Learning, This blows them up into Preſumption and Arrogance, puts Weapons into their Hand to defend their Prejudices, fi- miſhes them in Folly, and renders their Diſeaſe incapable The PR E FA C E. incapable of all Remedy. Natural Deftās, and Acquired Prepoſſeſſions, are indeed two ver formidable Obſtructions 5 and if Learning º, mot, as in truth it very ſeldom does, cure them, it addr to the Diſeaſe, and render; them im. pregnable. Which yet is by mo means any Re- flection upon Learning, or Diſhonour to it, as fome may be apt to imagine, but rather a Com- mendation, and to itſ Advantage. Learning is, without all Controverſe, a mo excellent Weapon, but not fit to be truſted in every Hamd; and he who knows not how to ma- mage it, will find more hurt than good from it. For it maker ſick and weak Mind, giddy and conceited, perfects and poliſhes Fools, mo leſs than it does thoſe of good Capacities and Diſ: poſitions. A weak and injudicious Man knows mot how to uſe his Weapon 5 on the contrary it weakens and over-powers Him : He is oppreſt with it, like a Stomach over-charged with more Meat than it can digeſt, or an Arm that is be- mumb’d and born down by a Staff heavier than it can uſe. The ſtrong and ſound Mind, quite contrary, plays with it dexterouſly, ſhem, a ma- fierly Skill in the uſe of it, turns it to Advan- tage perpetually, forms his judgment, rectifies his Will, pours in this Oil to make the Lamp of Nature burn ſtronger and brighter; if the wiſer and better for that very thing which makes the other but the more exquiſite and more inſupportable Fool. But, all this while, Learn- ing is not accountable for thoſe ill Conſequen- cer, any more than Wine is guilty of all the Exceſſes committed by it, or a good Mali; - * i The PREF A C E. ill apply'd, for the Patient's growing worſe upon it. Now againſt theſe conceited half-witted Fel- lows, whom Nature hath diſpoſed to Folly, and their own Acquiſitions have perfeóed in it, I de- nounce formal War in my Book, as looking upon them to be irrecomeilable Enemies to Wiſdom; and the fitteſt Title I can find to diſtinguiſh them by, is that of Pedants 5 for which I have the Autho- rity of ſeveral good Writerr, who have uſed the Word in this Signification. It is confeſt, that in its Original Language and proper Senſe, it is taken in a very good and commendable Meaning 5 but in latter Times, and other Languages, the great Abuſe and Corruption of Learning hath given occaſion for the fixing a very ill and con- temptible one upon it 5 a vile, ſordid, peeviſh, fliff way, that maker no other uſe of Learning, but for Gaim and Oſtentation, Arrogamce and Preſumption 5. In ſhort, all That which makes Learning deſpicable and derided, iſ ſigniff'd by it. And ſo thiſ, like Tyrant, Sophiſter, and the like, is one of thoſe Words which hath ab- ſolutely loſt its firſt Signification, and is now become a Mark of Reproach and Contempt. It is very poſſible ſome Perſons may be of: fended at my uſing this Term, imagining that I deſign an Affront to thoſe who make Learning their Buſineſ, and Profeſſion. But they, I hope, will be ſatisfy'd with this ingenuous Declarati- on, that I have not the leaſt Intention of re- fleåing upon any Science or Condition of Men, particularly not the Gown, which I have the honour to wear, and to be one of thoſe who are called Men of Letters, my ſelf; my meaning Z.º. The PR E FA C E. is only to charge a certain Quality of Mind, a ſort of Soul, which I have been deſcribing, of mean and low Capacity, but moderately provi- ded by Nature, and afterward; depraved by Art and Study; Men prepoſeſt, and obſtimate, and fierce in certain Opinion; ; and theſe are to be found in all Rober, and all Conditions 5 as in truth there is a World of Mobb in the Pit and Boxes, as well as in the Upper-Gal- lery. Vulgum tam chlamydatos quam coro- nam voco. Let theſe Obječars but find me another Word as expreſſive of thoſe Qualities, and I will moſt readily conſent to the Exchange. In the mean while, after this Declaration, I think I may juſtly ſay, that whoever ſhall ſtill e peeviſh, and have any reſentment upon this account, does but injure Me, and accuſe Him- ſelf. 'Tis true, there are other Terms of Op- poſition to the Wiſe Man ; but mot any, I think, ſo extenſive and ſignificant aſ Thir. The Vul- gar, the Ignorant, and Others , which I fre- quently take occaſion to make uſe of 5. Theſe are ºppoſed more direčfly, like Low to High, Weak to Strong, Common to Scarce, a Servant to his Maſter, Prophane to Sacred : Thus likewiſe Fool is ſet the moſt directly in oppoſition to Him 5 but them. This is, as Crooked if oppoſed to Streight, Vain-glorious to Modeft, Conſtraint to Freedom, Sickneſ; to Health. But mon, Pe- dant includes all this, and a great deal more, in the Senſe which I apply it to ; For it gives * an Idea of a Man, not only different from, and contrary to a Wiſe Mam, as the reſt of them do, but a Fellow that hath the Impudence - - b fo The PR E FA C E. to oppoſe and make Head againſt him 5 that comes armed Cap-a-pe, ſamcily challenges him to Combat, and talks magiſterially and dogmati- cally. And, becauſe in the midſt of all this Wa- mity and fierce Arrogance, he hath ſome ſort of Miſgivingſ, and thinks himſelf diſcover'd 5 there- fore he bears an inveterate Spight to this Per- fon who checkſ his Follies 5 is etermally cenſuring, condemming, running him down 5 eſteeming and behaving himſelf as the only Perſon who has any Right to that Charaćfer of Wiſdom 5 tho’ in reality he infinitely exceed all others in the exquiſileneſ; and troubleſommeſ of his Folly. Having thus given my Reader a ſhort Ac- count of the Argument and Deſign of the fol- lowing Treatiſe, it may not be unſeaſonable to premiſe one Word or two concerning the Order and Method obſerved in it. He muſt know them, that it confifts of Three Books. The Firſt direcſ, the Knowledge of a Man’s Sclf, and the Condition of Human Nature in general. This is laid as a neceſſary Preparation to Wiſ- dom 5 and largely illuſtrated under Five Geme- ral Conſiderationſ, each of which is ſubdivided into ſeveral Particulars. The Second contains the principal Limer and general Rules of Wiſ- dom. The Third deſcends to particular In- firučions and Circumſtances, branched out un- der the Four Cardinal Pirtues, of Prudence, juſtice, Fortitude, and Temperance 5 and here every Part and Relation of Human Life, hath fome proviſion made for the Duties it engages &f 4/7, Jada The PR EF A C E. . I add too, that I write and treat my Sub- ječ, not after a Pedantick manner, and in ſet Forms, according to the Methods of the Schoolf; mor with regular Arguments in Mood and Fi- gure, mor with Pompous Eloquence, nor any other Artifice whatſoever. I am verily perſuaded what Tully ſays is moſt true, That Wiſdom, could ſhe but render her-ſelf viſible to Hu- man Eyes, would charm our Souls, and ra- viſh our Affections, and make every Crea- ture ſtrangely in Love with her. (Qız ſip: oculis ipſis cerneretur, mirabiles excitaret a- mores ſui.) And therefore ſhe meed only diſcover her native Beautier, and is too noble, too glo- riola, to uſe any of thoſe little modiſh Garbs, to adorn and ſet her off; but this I do too with a Liberty which all, perhaps , will not be well pleaſed with. The Propoſitions and Truths are compač and cloſe, but oftentimer very dry, and ſerved up crude and courſely, like Aphoriſm, Overtures, or ſhort Hints of Diſcourſes. Some Perſons, I am ſenſible, may be apt to think me too bold with ſome commonly-receiv'd Opinions, and take offence that I pay them mo greater Deference. To theſe Perſonſ, and the Fault they find with my free way of expreſſing my Thought: ; I anſwer, Firſt, That Wiſłom, when above the common Standard, hath a Right to this Liberty. It is the Privilege and juriſtlićtion of a Wiſe Man, to call Matters before him, to examine and try them, to cenſure and condemn vulgar Noti- ons, which indeed, for the moſt part, are mo bet- ter than vulgar Errors. And who ſhall pre- b 2 - temd Offic. I. The PR E FA C E. tend to bar this Privilege & Why ſhould he mho hath it, decline the Exerciſe of it though he Knows at the ſame time that this cannot be dome, without incurring the Envy and Diſplea- fure of a great part of the World 2 y Nay, Secondly, I cannot but think, the juſter ground of Complaint lies on my ſºde, and muſt therefºre reprove Them for this fºoliſh and feminine Nicemeſ, as a thing that is infinitely too ſueamiſh and tender to bear neceſſary Truth, or attain to ſound Wiſdom. The boldeſt Ex- preſſions and Truth, are moſt becoming a truly great Soul; and a Man who hath at all ſiudy’d the World, will not think any thing ſtrange or ſhocking. For this proceeds from Weakneſs of judgment only, which ought to be corrected 5 and a Man muſt harden his mind, and ac- cuſtom himſelf to conſider patiently, even the oddeſi and moſt uncouth things, in order to gi- ving them a fair Tryal. There is mothing ſo extravagant, but the Mind of Man you ſee is capable of thinking it 5 and conſequently nothing ſo extravagant, but that a Man may, and will do very properly and mell, to give it the hear- ing. All the Care to be taken upon this Occa- ſºon iſ, that we be mot wanting to our Selves 5 That while we endure to examine every thing, tho' mever ſo generally exploded, yet we yield our Aſſent to nothing, but what if good and de- cent, tho’ never ſo univerſally commended or re- ceiv'd. For the Wiſe Man gives inſtances o his Courage and Greatneſs of Soul in both theſe Caſes, whereas theſe nice Perſons betray an Effe- minate Weakneſ; and Delicacy, and are manifeft- ly deféâive in them both. Thirdly, The PR E FA CE. Thirdly, Whatever I propoſe here, it is only with an Intention to have it conſidered : I pre- tend not to oblige Otherſ to think as I do 5 I Offer my Thoughtſ, but I do mot Impoſe them. If They differ in judgment from Me, it breed, no Quarrel; I ſhould injure my ſelf extremely if it did 3 becauſe this is one of thoſe deteſia- ble Øualities that comcur to make up a Pedant. Paſſion is generally an Argument that Reaſon is defective 5 and He that is diſpoſed to any Opinion upon One of theſe Motiveſ, hath ſeldom any great Mixture of the Other with it. Where- fore them are theſe Gentlemen Angry & Is it becauſe I am of another Opinion & Let them give me fair Quarter at leaff, for I am not in any Degree diſpleaf d with Them for differing from me. If it for ſaying ſome things not agreeable to their Taft, and that of the World 2 Alas, Tis for iſ is very Reaſon, that I mention them. I hºpe at leaft, there is nothing ſaid without Reaſon fºr it ; if they cam reliſh it, and differm the Force of that Reaſon, 'tis well ; If they have better fºr the other ſide of the Queſtion, and ſuch as will overthrow mine, I am almayr ready to hear it 5 and ſhall be both pleaſed and thankful for better Infºrmation, But let them mot think to run me down with Numbers and Authority, fºr Theſe have no weight with me, except in Matters of Religion ºnly 5 and there Authority ſingle à Argument Jºfficient to induce my Belief of thingſ, which my Reaſon cammot comprehend. This is its proper Empire, but out of theſe Territorieſ Rea- ſon reigns and hath abſolutely juriſdiction, as - b 3 St. The PR E FA C E. St. Auguſtin himſelf hath very truly and very ingemuouſly acknowledged. Tº a moſt unjuſt Öſurpation over our Native Rights and Liber- ties, the very Madneſs of Tyrammy and Rage, to think to enſlave us to All that either the Amcients have deliver'd, or the Generality of the World entertained : But eſpecially the Lat- ter, ſince the greater Part of Mankind know neither what they do, nor ſay. Nome but Fools will ſuffer themſelves to be led by the Noſe at this rate 5 and for ſuch this Book I confſ; ir mot calculated ; if it ſhould meet with Popular Acceptance, I ſhould ſuſpect it did mot anſwer its Charačer. The Amcient Authors ought indeed to be heard, and com/idered and duly reſpećfed; but to be captivated by them, is an Exceſ of Pemera- tion they muſt mot pretend to. For though a Man ſhould hear all, and pay a Deference to fome, yet he muſt aſſent and yield up his Mind to mone, but Reaſon only. And indeed put the Caſe me might, and would be govermed by Au- thorities 5 yet I mould be glad to know how this is poſſible to be dome 5 or how we ſhall find ſuch an Agreement among them, aſ ſhall enable as to ſay, Authority is on our ſide. Ariſtotle, for Inſtance, pretended to be the greateſt Man that had them appeared in the World; he took upon him to arraign and con- demn all that had gone before him 5 and yet he ſaid and wrote more abſurd things, than all of Them put together had ever thought of Nay, he is inconſiſtent with himſelf, and many times does not know what he would be at ; of which his wild Notionſ, concerning The Soul of Man, - - The The PR E FA C E. The Etermity of the World, The Generation of Winds and Waterſ, &c. are undemiable Tºfti- monies. And in truth a Man who conſiders the Matter will find , that to have all Peo- ple of the ſame Opinion would be infinitely more prodigious and amazing, than to find them otherwiſe. For Diverſity of Opinions it as comely and beautiful in the Minds o Men, as Variety is in the Workſ of Nature. That Wiſe as well Inſpired Apoſile St. Paul allows a great Liberty, in theſe Two Ruler; Let every Man be fully perſuaded in his Rom it. own Mind 5 and Let no Man condemn or iii, v. deſpiſe others of a different Judgment and Behaviour. And it is obſervable, that theſe Directions are given in a Matter much micer and of greater conſequence, than what me mom treat of For they do not concern Aïions merely Humane, and Extermal, and civil Compliancer, in which I have declard, that my Wiſe Man ſhould not take upon him to be ſingular, mor think it any Diminution of his Charaſier, to ſubmit and conform to Cuſtom and Preſcription: But St. Paul’s Rules are of a Religious Con- ſideration ; and relate to ſuch Diſtinčions of Meats and Days, as Men thought themſelver bound upon a Principle of Conſcience to make 5 Whereas all the Hardineſ; and Freedom I con- tend for, is only that which enlarger a Mº’s Thoughts and private Opinionſ from Cºp- tivity and Reſtraint 5 and ſuch as no other Perſon is or can be concern'd in, but what a Man is entirely and ſolely accountable to hum- ſelf for: b 4 Fourthly, The PR E FA C E. Fourthly, However, to give all reaſonable Sa- tifašion even in this Point too 3 In regard fome things might ſeem too crude and hard for the weaker ſort of People, (thoſe of ſtrong and fºund Conſtitutions I am ſenſible will reliſh and digeſt them all very well.) in Temderneſ, and Condeſcenſion to ſuch queaſie Stomachs, I have taken Care, in this Second Edition, to explaim, illuſtrate, and ſoften any thing that might of: fend their feebler judgments. And according. !y do now preſent you with a Book diligently revis'd, and comfilerably enlarged above what it was before. - Laſtly, I beg leave of the Reader, who um- dertakes to paſs a judgment upon this Work, that he will permit me to fore-warm him of Seven dangerous Miſtaker, which other Perſons by falling into already, have entertained a leſ; favourable Opinion of the Former Edition, than I have the Panity to think it deſerved. The Firſt is, That he would make a Diffe- rence bettreem Matter of Faà and Right 5 and not from what if related as Dome, conclude That ought to be Dome. . . Secondly, To make a great Difference be- tween Aćing and judging; and mot conclude from any Liberty of Opinion maintain’d by me, that I pretend to windicate the ſame Liberty in Behaviour. ---, * . . . . . . . Thirdly, That he mould not look upon all That as Reſolved and Determined, and De- clared in Favoºr of, which is only offered to - - Con- --→ The PR E FA C E. Conſideration, Argued and Diſputed Problema- tically, and in the old Academick Way. - Fourthly, That what I relate from, or con- terming other People, be not imputed to Me, or paſs for my own Senſe and judgment of the Thing. Fifthly, That what is ſpoken of the Mind and its internal Qualifications , be not appro- priated to any Sort or Profeſſion of Men, or extended to outward and Particular Circum- ſinces and Conditions. - Sixthly, That what if ſpoken of Humane Opinion, be not applyed to Religion and Mat- tºrt of Faith. - And Seventhly, That what belongs to Vir- tue, and Aáions merely Natural and Moral, k not interpreted of Grace and Supermatural Operations. y Let my Reader but lay aſide all Prejudice and Paſſion , and take theſe Cautions along with him, and I am well aſſured, his own Scru- ples may be reſolved by them, the Obječions raiſed by himſelf or others againſt this Trea- tiſe abundantly anſwered, and the Deſign I had in it, cleared from all Blame or Suſpicion. But if, after all, he be ſtill diſſatisfied, let him come frth into fair Combat, and attack me openly. For to traduce, and ſnarle and mangle an Au- thor's Reputation in a Cormer, is I confeſ, an tufte, but withal a Baſe, and Pedantick Pra- jice, unworthy Men of Senſe or Honour. And, ſince this Bock makes particular Preten- tes to Ingenuity, and fair Dealing, I promiſe any The PR E F A C E. any generous Adverſary, either to do him the Honour of freely Acknowledging my Miſtakes, and ſubmitting to his better Reaſons 5 or elſe to examine his Obječions, and endeavour to make both Him and the World, ſenſible of their Impertinence and Folly. —- An Explanation of the Figure in the Fron. tiſpiece of this Book. T the upper end of the Page, and o- ver the Title of the Book, you have Wiſdom repreſented by a beautiful Woman; She is naked 5 yet ſo that there is no offence given to the Chaſteſt Eyes, (intimating, that ſhe needs not any Additional Beauties , or the Aſſiſtance of Art to recommend her, but is natural, plain, and ſimple 5 yet ſo as in the midſt of Nature and Simplicity to have always a ſtrićt regard to Modeſty.) Her Coun- tenance is Healthful and Maſculine, Smiling and Cheerful, Strong and Authoritative. Her Body Streight, with her Feet fixed cloſe to- gether, upon a Cube, that denotes Juſtice, and Firmneſs. Her Arms a-croſs, as if ſhe were embracing her ſelf; intimating, that ſhe is happy in, and ſatisfy'd with her ſelf. Upon her Head ſhe wears a Crown of Lau- rel and Olive, which imports Vićtory and Peace. The void Space round about her, fignifies Liberty: She looks in a Glaſs, held by a Hand coming out of a Cloud, at ſome diſtance from her, which preſents her with the Reflection of her own Face; for Wiſdom is employ'd in the Knowledge and Contem- plation of her ſelf. Upon her Right º - the 1C An Explanation of the Frontiſpiece. theſe Words, I know mot; not thereby to give Countenance to perpetual Doubt and Scepticiſm 5 but arguing, that ſhe is mature and cautious in Deliberating, flow in Deter- mining 5 not poſitive or peremptory, but re- ſerving an Ear open for freſh Reaſons, and not aſhamed to confeſs, that the beſt Human Knowledge is ſtill dark and imperfeót. On the Left ſide are thoſe other Words, Peace, sºockII. and a little; which are the Author's own De- tº vice, repreſented by a Root impaled, wound ** about with an Olive-Branch, and incircled with two Branches of Laurel in an Oval Form 5 implying, that a Competency is ſuf- ficient 5 and that Men have it in their ow Power to be eaſie and contented. Below, on each ſide the Title, are Four little, deformed, wretched, wrinkled Old Women , bound in Chains; the End of which is faſten’d to the Pedeſtal of Wiſdom 5 who deſpiſes, condemns, and tramples them under her Feet. The Two on the Right ſide of the Title are Paſſion and Opinion; Paſſion hath a meagre and diſcompoſed Coun- tenance, intimating Diſorder and Fury. O- pinion hath wild ſtaring Eyes, an unſettled and ſturdy Face: She is ſupported by ſeveral Perſons, denoting the Extravagance and general Infection of vulgar Errors, and how fend of, and how ſtiff the common People are in them. The other. Two on the Left ſide of the Inſcri- ption are Superſtition, with an amazed Look, i. Hands, claſped together like a Slave trembling for Fear 3 ſhewing the Tsº. - - a Il An Explanation of the Frotiſpiece. and Aſtoniſhments of People poſſeſs'd with this Phrenſie of the Mind: And Laſtly, there is Learning, which is a counterfeit, artificial, acquir’d, and Pedantic Virtue 3 a Slave to Laws, and Cuſtoms, and Forms 5 with a ſwell'd Face, a haughty arrogant Look, bold ſtaring Eyes; and ſhe reads in a Book, wherein is written, Tea, Nay; importing the Vanity and Confidence of Learned Men, their Eternal Diſputes, and the wide Diſa- greement of their Notions 5 and yet the Pre- filmption and Poſitiveneſs they betray in the midſt of all this Difference and Uncertainty. And Laſtly, The Chains which terminate in the Footſtool of Wiſdom, ſhew that Captivi- ty of the Mind, which all theſe Qualities bring Men under, which they who ſtudy Wiſdom labour to get above 5 and they who attain to it, break thoſe Fetters, and are wholly free from that miſèrable Bondage. * : * … . . . . . . . . A Brief A Brief Account O F T H E A U T H O R. From the French. E TER C H A R R O N was born at Paris, in the Year 1541. and Baptized in St. Hilary's Church in the Clos Bruneau. His Father was one Theobald Charron, a Book- ſeller 5 and his Mother's Name was Nicole de la Barre. By Her, Theobalá had One and Twenty Children 5 and Four more by a for- mer Wife: So that our Author had no leſs than Four and Twenty Brothers and Siſters 5 and yet, which is very remarkable, among all this numerous Family, there is not any Male-Iſſue now remaining. The Condition of his Parents was not very plentiful; and their Expence, 'tis plain, was great; but however, in regard they ſaw ſomething in their Son Peter, which was very forward and promiſing, and argu'd a more than common Capacity, they took the Hint from Nature's _^ Kindneſs, A Brief Account of the Author. Kindneſs, and put him out to a very good School. After he had made ſufficient progreſs in Greek and Latin, he took care to quali- fie himſelf with other Sciences, and Parts of Human Learning, and ſtudy'd Logick, Me- taphyſicks, Moral and Natural Philoſophy. From thence he proceeded to the Civil and Canon Law in the Univerſities of Or- leans and Bourges , where he commenced Dočtor in that Faculty. At his return to Paris, he betook himſelf to the Profeſſion of the Law, and was admitted Advocate in the Court of Parliament 5 Where Buſineſs often call'd him to the Barr, which he always de- clar'd to be the beſt and moſt impor- ving School in the World: And accord- ingly, he took care to loſe none of the Pub- lick Hearings 5 From whence his Mind took ſo ſtrong a Tinéture, that a Man may plainly diſcern the Effects of it in his Diſ. courſes, by the proper Application of Maxims and Terms of Law. This Courſe he conti- nu'd ſome Five or Six Years 5 but foreſee- ing, that Preferment this way, if ever at- tained at all , was like to come hard and ſlow, (he neither having Relations among the Sollicitors and Proëtors of the Court, nor particular Intereſt, nor Spirit little enough to cringe, and flatter, and wriggle himſelf into Buſineſs) he gave over that Employ- ment, and apply'd himſelf cloſe to the ſtudy of Divinity. To this purpoſe he read the Fathers, and eminent Dočtors of the Church; and having a Tongue well hung, and a Style A brief Acount of the Author. i Style free and eaſie, but yet refined and lofty too, above the rate of common Preachers 5 he made uſe of this Talent, by the Permiſ. fion of the Parochial Clergy, and that with ſo good Succeſs, that he quickly came into Reputation and Eſteem with the Greateſt and moſt Learned Men of his Time ; Inſo- much that the Biſhops and greateſt Prelates about the Town, ſeem'd to be in ſome ſort of Strife, which of them ſhould get him in- to his Dioceſs. Particularly my Lord Arnaud de Pontac, Biſhop of Bazas, a Prelate of ex- cellent Learning, having heard him preach at St. Paul's Church, in the Year 1571. was ſo in love with him, that he took him away from the place of his Birth, and carry'd him to Xainter and Bourdeaux, and into his Bi- ſhoprick of Bazas, and ſeveral other places in Gaſcomy, and Languedoc, where his admi- rable Eloquence acquired ſo juſt Renown, that he had Proffers made by ſeveral Bi- ſhops, of being the Theological Canon (or Divinity-Leółurer) in their Churches 5 and of ſeveral other Dignities and Benefices, be- ſides ſeveral noble Preſents made him. In ſhort, he was Theologal at Bazar, Art, Le- thoure, Agen, Chaorf, and Condom ſucceſſive- ly; Canon and Schoolmaſter in the Church of Bourdeaux, and Chanter in the Church of Comdom. Queen Margaret, Dutcheſs of Wa- lois, was pleaſed to entertain him for her Preacher in Ordinary 5 and the then King, tho' at that time of the Reform'd Religion, was extremely pleas'd with his Sermons, and frequently A brief Account of the Author. frequently did him the Honour to hear them. He was alſo a Retainer to the late Cardinal d'Armagnac, Legat to his Holineſs at Avignon, who had a great value for him. He did great good by his perſuaſive way of Preaching, and by the Excellencies both of his Life and Dočtrine, for Two and Thirty Years together, converted and eſtabliſh'd ma- ny. He never took any Degree or Title in Divinity, but ſatisfy'd himſelf with deſerving and being capable of the Higheſt 5 and j therefore no other Title or Charaćter but That of Prieſt only. He never ſaw Paris in Seventeen or Eighteen Years, and then re- ſolv'd to come and end his days there; but being a great lover of Retirement, he had obliged himſelf by Vow to become a Carthu- ſian 5 and was abſolved of it about the end of the Year 1588. He went from Bourdeaux coming by Xaintes and Angers, where he made ſeveral learned Sermons, and arriv'd at Paris,at the time the States were conven'd at Blois.Then he preſented himſelf to the Prior of the Car- thuſians, one john Michel, a Perſon of great Piety, who ſince dy'd Prior-General of the great Carthuſian Monaſtery in Dauphiné. To Him he communicated his Intention 3 but it was not accepted, by reaſon of his Age, which was not leſs than Seven or Eight and Forty- And all the moſt preſſing Intreaties he could uſe were ineffectual 3 for the Excuſe was ſtill this, That That Order required all the Wi- gour of Youth to ſupport its Auſterities. Hereupon he addreſt # to the Pºi § €13. A brief Account of the Author. cial of the Celeftimes in Paris; but there too with the ſame Succeſs, and upon the ſame Reaſons alledged for repulfing him. Thus after having done his utmoſt to fulfil his Vow, and himſelf not being in any de- gree acceſſory to its not taking effect, he was affured by Faber Dean of the Sorbon, Tyrius' a Scotch Jeſuite, and Fellardent a Franciſcam, all very learned and able Divines, that there lay no manner of Obligation upon him from that Vow: But that he might with a very ſafe and good Conſcience, continue in the World as a Secular, and was at large, and at his own Diſpoſal, without any need of en- tring into any other Religious Order. Here- upon, in the Year 1589, he returned back by Angers , where he preached the whole Lent, to the great Admiration and Benefit of the People. From thence he went back again to Bourdeaux, where he contraćted a very intimate Acquaintance and Friendſhip with Monſieur Michel de Montagne, Knight of the Order of the King, and Author of the Book ſo well known by the Title of Mon- tagne's Eſſays. For him Monſieur Charron had a very great Eſteem, and did from him re- ceive alf poſſible Teſtimonies of a reciprocal Affection: For, (among other § ) Mon- fieur Montagne order'd by his laſt Will, that in regard he left no Iſſue-Male of his own, Monſieur Charron ſhould after his deceaſe, be entituled to bear the Coat of Arms, plain, and as they belong'd to his Noble Family. he Troubleſome Times detaining Monfieur - Charrone A brief Acount of the Author. Charron at Bourdeaux, from the Year 1589. to that of 1593. he compoſed his Book cal- led Lei Troi; Pèritez, The Three Truthr, and publiſhed it in 1594. but without his Name to it. This was received with great Ap; plauſe of Learned Men, and they printed it after the Bourdeaux Copy two or three times at Paris, and afterwards at Bruſſels ini Flanders, under the Shami-Name of Benedić Valiant, Advocate of the Holy Faith 5 becauſe the Third Part of that Book contains a De; fence of the Faith, in anſwer to a little Trač concerning the Church, written formerly by the Sieur Pleſis de Mornay. The Publică. tion of this Book brought him into the Ac- quaintance of Monſieur Automy d' Ebrard de S. Sulpice, Biſhop and Count of Caors, who upon peruſing and liking the Book, ſent for Monſieur Charron, tho' he had hever ſeen him before, made him his Vicar-General, aid Carſon-Theºlogal in his Church, which he ac- cepted 3 and there he put out the Second Edi- tion, with his own Name to it in 1595. en: . it alſo with a Reply to an Anſwer, printed at Rochelle, and written againſt what He called his third Tºmh. s While he was at Caors, the King was plea- fed to ſummon him to the General Aſſembly of all the Clergy of France, held the ſame Year 1595. Hither he came in the Quality of a Deputy, and was ehoſen firſt Secretary to the Åſſembly. As he was in this Atten- dance, an Invitation was ſent him to preach at St. Baftache's Church, the moſt populous € 3 Pariſh A brief Account of the Author Pariſh in the whole City of Paris, which he did upon All-Saints-Day 1595, and two Days after. As alſo the Six Sundays in Lent 1596. In 1599 he returned to Caors, and in that Year, and 1600, he compoſed Eight Diſcourſes upon the Sacrament of the Lord's Supper 5 as many others upon the Knowledge and Provi- dence of God, the Redemption of the World, the Communion of Saints : And likewiſe his Books of Wiſdom. While he was thus em- ploying himſelf, and enjoying that Retire- ment at Caors, my Lord john Chemin Biſhop of Condom preſented him with the Chanter- ſhip in his Church, to draw him over into that Dioceſs: But having at the ſame time an Offer from M. Mirom, Biſhop of Angiers, and being courted by Him, to reſide at Am- jou, this was moſt agreeable to his Inclinati- on. The making a determinate Reſolution was a Work of Time 5 for his Affection and Convenience drawing ſeveral Ways, kept the Balance long in ſuſpenſe. Anjou he look- ed upon as the ſweeteſt Dwelling, the moſt delightful Retreat that France could give him 5 but that Province being then embroyl'd in Civil Wars, ( for Bretany was not then re- duced, and ſo like to make a very trouble- ſome Neighbour). Condom carry'd the Point. It happen'd too, that the Theologal Chair at Condom was juſt then void, and this being tendred him by the ſame Biſhop, he accept- ed that, and reſolved to ſet up his Staff there. To this purpoſe he bought a Houſe, which he built new, and furniſhed to his own Fan- cy A brief Account of the Author. cy and Convenience 5 reſolving to give him- ſelf all the Eaſe and Diverſion he could, and make the beſt of his growing Years, the Infirmities whereof would be ſoften’d at leaſt by good Humour, and a pretty Dwelling. After he was ſetled at Condom , he printed thoſe Chriſtian Diſcourſes mention'd juſt now, which were Sixteen in all 5 and alſo his Bookſ of Wiſdom at Bourdeaux, in the Year 1601. which gave him a great Reputation, and made his Charaćter generally known: So that Monſieur Charron began from that time to be reckon'd among the Glories and top- ping Wits of France. Particularly Meſſieur Claude Dormy, Biſhop of Bologne by the Sea, and Prior of St. Martin's in the Fields at Paris, wrote him ſeveral Letters upon that occaſion; expreſſing the great Eſteem he had for Him and his Writings, and as a Teſtimony of his Value and Opinion of him, offer'd him the Theologal's Place in his Church. Theſe Let- ters made Monſieur Charron deſirous to ſee Paris once more, that ſo he might contračt a Perſonal Acquaintance with, and expreſs his Acknowledgments for the Favours of this great Prelate; and at the ſame time, in hope to get an Opportunity of reprinting his Books and Diſcourſes, with the Addition of ſome new Tračts. For indeed the Impreſſion at Bourdeaux he thought wanted correčting ; and upon a Review was not at all to his Satisfaction. In purſuance of this Deſign, he arriv'd at Paris the Third of October, 1603, and in a C 3 COIle A brief Account of the Author, convenient sime afterwards he went to pay his Reſpects to the Biſhop of Bologne, who receiv'd him with great Civility and Kind- neſs, and repeated his Offer of that Preferment, merely to have him near himſelf, and more within the Eye of the Court. Monſieur Charrow return'd him many Thanks for the Honour he had done him, and the good Intentions he was pleas'd to entertain for his Advance- ment. And with his uſual Freedom, told an Advocate in the Parliament, who was a par- ticular Friend of his, that he could be well - º: to accept that Preferment for ſome Kears, but that the Moiſture and Coldneſs of the Air, and its Nearneſs to the Sea, did not only make it a Melancholy and Unplea- ſant Place, but very unwholſome, and Rheu- matick, and Foggy too. That the Sun was his viſible God, as God was his inviſible Sun 5 and therefore, ſince he had no Hope of ſeating himſelf at Bologne with Safe- ty to his Health, he thought it much better not to venture thither at all. During his Stay at Paris, he lodg’d at one Bertaud's a Bookſeller, that he might be near the Preſs, and correct the new Edition of his Books of Wiſdom, of which he liv'd to fee but Three or Four Sheets wrought off. For on Sunday the Sixteenth of Novemb- ber, 1603. going out of his Lodging, about one of the Clock, at the Corner of St. john Beauvais Street, he call'd to his Servants and complain'd he found himſelf Ill: And imme- diately, while they ran to hold him up he fell A brief Account of the Author. upon his Knees, and with his Hands and Eyes lifted up to Heaven, he expired upon the Spot, without the leaſt Agony or Appear- ance of Pain. His Diſeaſe was an Apoplex, and the Quantity of extravaſated Blood was ſo great, that no Humane Help could have preſerved him. The Body was kept Two Days, but the Phyſicians being well ſatisfied that he was ačtually dead, and the Blood too which ſettled about his Throat, beginning to mortifie, and grow offenſive, they buried him with great Decency, and a very Honoura- ble Attendance, in St. Hilary's Church, the Eighteenth of the ſame Month 5 where his Father, Mother, moſt of his Brothers and Siſters, and a great many other Relations were Interred. The Day of his Funeral he had his Face expos'd to view, and his Body dreſt in the Prieſt's Habit, as if he had been go- ing to Officiate at Maſs. And this was done by a particular l)irečtion of his own 5 for he had frequently left thoſe Orders in Charge, provided his Death happen'd to be ſuch, as wrought no mighty Change or Deformity in his Perſon. As to his Perſon, He was of a moderate Stature, inclining to Fat 5 of a finiling Coun- tenance and cheerful Humor 5 a large open Fore-head 5 ſtreight Noſe, pretty large down- wards 5 light blue Eyes 5 his Complexion Freſh and Ruddy 5 his Hair and Beard very White, though he had not yet got through his Cli- matterick, being about Sixty Two Years and a Half when he died. The Air of his Face C 4 WaS A brief Account of the Author. was always Gay, without the leaſt Allay of Melancholy ; his Mien Graceful; his Voice Strong and Diſtinét 5 his Expreſſion Maſculine and Bold : His Health Firm and Conſtant 5 he had no Complaints, either from Age or Indiſpoſitions, till about Three Weaks before his Death. Then indeed he now and then, while he was in Motion, felt a Pain in his Breaſt, and found himſelf oppreſt with Short- neſs of Breath. But this preſently went off again after a little Reſt, and fetching his Breath deep. However he acquainted his Phy- fician the eminent Sieur Marſcot with his Caſe, who adviſed him by all means to open a Vein 5 aſſuring him, that all his Illneſs pro- ceeded from fulneſs of Blood, and, if ſome Courſe were not taken ſpeedily to prevent it, a Suffocation might enſue. And accord- ingly it happen'd 5 for in all probability, the neglečting this Advice of bleeding quickly, was the very thing that coſt Monſieur Char- rom his Life. His Books of Wiſdom and Chriſtian Di- ſcourſes were printed off after his Death, by the Particular Care of an Intimate Friend, whom he had charged with the Inſpection of them in his Life-time : And abundant Satiſ. faétion was given to the World, that the Au- thor himſelf had in this Impreſſion added, and correčred ſeveral Paſſages. Some parti- cularly, which not Others enly, but Him- ſelf alſo thought neceſſary to be changed from that firſt Impreſſion at Bourdeaux, in 1601. By theſe Alterations he hath explained - " . ." his A brief Account of the Author. his Meaning, . his Arguments, ſoftned many Expreſſions without any Mate- rial Alteration of the Senſe. All which was ãone Principally in Compliance with the World 3 to obviate the Malice of Some, and condeſcend to the Infirmities of Others. The whole had been peruſed and approved by ſome very good Friends, and Perſons of ſound Judgment 3 and till They had declar'd themſelves ſatisfied and pleas'd, he could not prevail with himſelf to be ſo. But above all, he ſubmitted his Writings to the Church; and hop'd there was nothing there, that might call for a juſt Cenſure, or Miniſter ground of Offence, either to Religion in general, or to that Communion, of which he was a Mem- ber in particular. As to his peculiar Manner of handling the Subječts he undertook to treat of, whether in Books or Sermons, he was us’d to ſay, that there are Three Ways of expreſſing and communicating a Man's Thoughts, which bear Proportion, and ſeem to be adapted to the Three Several Faculties of the Mind ; the Imagination, the Memory, and Underſtanding. One of theſe proceeds upon Rules of Art, runs upon Etymologies and Diſtinétions of Words and Things, Definitions, Diviſions, Subdiviſions, Cauſes, Effects, Accidents, and the like. A Second collečts together what other People have thought or ſaid upon the Occaſion, and values it ſelf upon the nicety of quoting Books, and Chapters, and Pages: The Third is free and generous, indulº aſl A brief Account of the Author. and doing in a manner all that both the for- mer pretend to, but without any Oſtenta- tion of doing ſo, or enſlaving it ſelf to Ni- ceties of Method, and Rules of Art: The Firſt of Theſe he uſed to ſay was fit for Schools, and to inſtruct, young Beginners: The Second too much in Vogue with Preachers and Orators, who in Effect only tack to- gether other Peoples Notions, and thoſe too very often after an affected and impertinent Manner; for having nothing to ſay for them- ſelves, they make other People ſpeak for them, though never ſo little to the Purpoſe. In reſpect of this Way he declar'd himſelf of jº. directly oppoſite to the generality the World 5 That to ſtuff a Diſcourſe with Quotations was an Argument rather of Weak- meſs and Ignorance, than of Wiſdom. That Men took this Courſe in all likelihood to ſet themſelves and their great Reading off to the World, which after all amounts to no more than a good Memory : And This, if not attended with Judgment, is no ſuch mighty Commendation. That Theſe things are oftentimes brought in at random, and all Adventures 3 picked up from Common- place Books, and Indexes, where they find Stuff ready made up to their Hands, and ſo they vend it without more to do. Al- legations indeed have their uſes and proper Seaſons 5 they are abſolutely neceſſary in controverted Points, where the Cauſe is to be decided by Authorities 5 But then they ought to be uſed with Moderation, and in . . - Meaſure; A brief Account of the Author. Meaſure 5 and good Care taken, that they be home to the purpoſe 5 that Prudence be, uſed in the Choice of them ; for generally the Fewer and the Weightier, to be ſure the Better they are. For it was his Opinion, that of all the Three Manners of Expreſſing our Thoughts, This was the leaſt valuable. As for the Third, That indeed was infi- nitely the beſt, and the Perſons who make it their Method, are by much the greateſt and moſt ſignificant Men. Antiquity and Au- thority were thus far of his ſide ; The An- cient Homiliſts being ſo many Examples of it, in whoſe Writings and Orations you ve- ry ſeldom, or never, find a Quotation 3 and in truth the old Authors, of all Sorts and Profeſſions, ſeem to make ſound Reaſon, and good Senſe their Buſineſs. This being the proper, the generous Food for entertaining Men deſirous of Knowledge, and of diſtin- guiſhing Minds 5 This reliſhes and ſhews more of Judgment, and Underſtanding, which are Nobler, and more Exalted Parts of the Mind, than Memory. Laſtly, This is infinitely the moſt Free and Noble in it ſelf, and more Delightful and Improving to Hearers, Readers, and the Perſon who makes Uſe of it too, than any other Method what- ſoever : For by this, Men are rather made Wiſe than Learned 3 and more accuſtomed to examine and make a Judgment of things. Conſequently the Will is directed, and the Conſcience informed this way, whereas the reſt are good for nothing, but to ſtuff his * - Memory A brief Account of the Author. Memory, and Imagination, with other Peo- | ples Notions, or little trifling Niceties. This Account I thought not improper to trouble the Reader with, becauſe from hence he will gueſs, what he is to expe&t in this Treatiſe, and ſee withal what kind of Taſt our Au- thor had in Matters of this Nature. As for what relates to his Temper, Man- ners, Converſation, and Aëtions, whether in Publick or Private, I ſhall need to ſay only thus much 3 That he made it his Conſtant Buſineſs, to render them conformable to thoſe Rules and Maxims contained at large in this Second Book of the following Treatiſe 5 and was very ſucceſsful, and very accurate in the Undertaking : What Perſua- ſion and Church he was of, his Three Veritieſ abundantly declare 5 as do likewiſe his Chri- ſtian Diſcourſes, which were printed ſince his Death, and make a convenient Volume by themſelves. How ſtrićt and conſcienti- ous he was, may appear from this ſingle In- ſtance; That, though he were poſleſt of ſeveral Theologal Canonries one after an- other, yet he would never be prevailed with to reſign any of them, in Favour of any Perſon 5 nor to name his Succeſſor 5 for fear of giving Occaſion to the Cenſure, of having upon private Reſpečts put in an unqualify’d Man, and One who was not worthy to fill ſuch a Poſt. But he conſtantly gave them up freely and clearly, into the Hands of thoſe Biſhops who had collated him. The - A brief 4am ºf the Author. w : . n | | The laſt thing I ſhall mention upon this Oecaſion is his Laſt Will 5 which was made and written all with his own Hand in ja- zeuary 1602, and after his Deceaſe, regiſtred in the Office at Comdom. In This he firſt returns moſt humble Thanks to God, for all the Mercies and Benefits which by His Boun- ty he had enjoyed in his Life-time 3 begs him moſt earneſtly for his infinite and in- comprehenſible Mercies Sake, in the Name of his Well-beloved Son, and our Bleſſed Sa- viour Jeſus Chriſt; and for His Merits ſhed and multiplied upon all his Members the Ele&t Saints, to grant him Favour, and full Pardon for all his Offences 5 to receive him for his own Child 5 to aſſiſt and condućt him with his Holy Spirit, during his Conti- nuance in this World, that he might ever remain in a ſound Mind, and the true Love and Service of Him his God 5 and that at the Hour of Death, he would receive his Soul to himſelf, admit him into the Society and ſweet Repoſe of his Well-beloved ones, and inſpire all his Holy and Elect Saints with a Pious and Charitable Diſpoſition, to pray, and make interceſſion for him. - Then proceeding to the Legacies, he be- queaths among other things 5 To the Church of Condom, provided his Corps be Interr'd there, Two Hundred Livres (Tournois J up- on Condition that every Year upon the Day of his Death, High Maſs ſhall be once ſaid in his Behalf, and Abſolution once pronounc'd over his Grave. He gives moreover to the Main- A brief Account of the Author. | Maintenance of poor Scholars, and young | Girls, Two Thouſand Four Hundred Crowns, the yearly Income hereof to be diſtributed | for ever, the one Moiety to Three or Four || Scholars; the other to Three, Four, or Five young Maidens, at the Diſcretion of his Exe- | cutors, of which he conſtituted Five: The Maſter of St. Andrew's School, and Rećtor || of the Jeſuites at Bourdeaux for the time being 5 his Heir, and Two of his Friends ; the Three Laſt to name ſome other Perſons to ſucceed in this Truſt after their Deceaſe, with This Qualification, that they nominate ſuch only, as are well known and reputed for their Abilities, Honeſty, and Charity. And that any Three of theſe in the Abſence of the reſt, might manage, and diſpoſe things as they ſhould ſee convenient: Likewiſe he gives, and bequeaths to Mrs. Leonora Montagne, Wife to the Sieur de Camin, Kings Counſel in the Parliament at Bourdeaux, half Siſter to the late Sieur de Montagne, the Summ of Five Hundred Crowns. And her Husband, Mon- ſieur Camin, he conſtitutes his ſole Heir 5 He paying the Charges, and Legacies contained in his Will, amounting in the whole to a- bout Fifteen Thouſand Livres Tournois, in the Groſs Sumni. What hath been thus lightly touched up. on, is a ſufficient Evidence how Religious and Conſcientious a Perſon Monſieur Charron was; that he feared God, led a pious and good Life, was Charitably diſpoſed; a Perſon of Wiſdom and Conduć, Serious and Conſide- - £3té A brief Account of the Author. rate 5 a great Philoſopher, an eloquent Ora- tor, a famous and powerful Preacher; richly furniſhed and adorned with the moſt excellent Virtues and Graces both Moral and Divine: Such as made him very remarkable and ſin- gular 5 and deſervedly gave him the Charader of a Good Man and a good Chriſtian 5 ſuch as preſerve a great Honour and Eſteem for his Memory among Perſons of Worth and Virtue, and will continue to do ſo, as long as the World ſhall laſt. of -- - ---- -|-|-|- |- |- |- ---- |- ----|- - --------|- |- - - … |- -- - |- |-- - ---- |- |- ---- |- - … ----- ----|-|- |-· - ----· * ·|-- - * ,|-|- +- ---- - -|-|- |- |-|- ----- - - ---- |- |-· ---- |- |-|-|- ----- |- |- |- |- ---- - ---- -- of w is Do M. The Second B O O K. Containing General Rules and In- fruitions for the Study and At- tainment of Wiſdom. C H A P. i. The firſt Tiſpoſition to Wiſdom, Exemption from the Errors and Vices ºf the World, and from one's own Paſſions. H E firſt ſtep towards the Knowledge of any thing being a diſtinét and adequate Idea and Comprehenſion of the Subjećt - to be Treated of, I ſhould, according to #Rule, lay down for the firſt Rudiment of Wiſ. &n, the Knowledge of a Man's Self in particular, ind of the Condition of Human Nature in gene- #. But This, having been the Subject of the entire Firſt Book, I have Reaſon to hope is ſufficiently provide Of Wiſdom. Book II: provided for already. All therefore which I think neceſſary to repeat upon this occaſion, is, That every Perſon who makes Wiſdom his Aim and End, ought in the firſt place to be throughly well ac- quainted with Himſelf, and with Mankind. The true Knowledge whereof is a very important and bene- ficial Study, of wonderful Efficacy and Advantage. For Man is the Subject proper for the Philoſophers Conſideration; none but the Wiſe underſtand it, and every man that does really underſtandit, is Wiſe. But at the ſame time it is a matter of great Intricacy and Difficulty; for Man is extremely addicted to fallacy and diſguiſe; ſo full of it, as to impoſe very often, not only upon other People, but upon Him- ſelf too. Every one takes a pleaſure in cheating himſelf, is induſtrious to flatter his own Conſcience, folicitous to hide and extenuate his own Failings, and diligent to magnify his few commendable Aëti- ons and Qualities; ſhutting his Eyes, and fearful to ſee the worſt of himſelf; and therefore, ſince Sin- cerity, even at home, is ſo very little regarded, we cannot reaſonably think it ſtrange, that Wiſdom is ſo very rarely to be met with. For how can we expect it ſhould be otherwiſe, when ſo very few are perfect, ſo few indeed give any attention to the ve- ry firſt Leſſon in this Science, and Men are ſo far from undertaking to Inſtrućt others, that they are wretchedly ignorant and take no care of informing themſelves. How many profeſs'd Maſters, how ma- ny zealous Learners do we ſee in other matters, which are foreign, and of little or no moment, while every body negleås the buſineſs which moſt nearly concerns him; and while he is taken up with other matters abroad, is abſolutely in the dark at home ! What an Unhappineſs! What an exquiſite Folly is this! How great a Reproach to the Genera- lity of Mankind!... . . . . . . . . . . . . : - $, ºr - - - - - - i’. Cºf Ch. 1. The Firſt Diſpoſition to Wiſdom. Now in order to the being competently skill'd in this point, we ſhould get acquainted with all ſorts of Men, Thoſe of the moſt diſtant Countries and Cli- mats, the moſt differing Tempers and Ages, Con- ditions and Profeſſions ; (in which Hiſtory and Travelling are very conſiderable Helps ) we ſhould obſerve their Motions, their Inclinations, and their ſeveral Dealings and Behaviour, not only in publick, (for theſe are full of Artifice, and conſequently leſs improving) but their moſt ſecret and reſerved Aétions, the moſt natural and freeſt from Con- ftraint, ſuch as may let us into the dark and myſte- rious part of Human Nature, and diſcover ſome of the hidden Springs by which Men are moved... And particularly, great regard ſhould be had to thoſe Paſ- ſages wherein Mens Intereſts, or particular Hu- mours come to be nearly touch'd; becauſe there the Man will be ſure to ſhew himſelf in his own true Colours. . . . - * - --> - . . . . . . When theſe Remarks are made, a man muſt draw them together, and form ſome general Notions and judicious Reflections from them. But particularl one muſt be very careful to deſcend into Himſelf, to try and ſound his own Breaſt to the bottom; that no lurking Deceit eſcape him there; but every Thought, and Word, and Aëtion, be juſtly and nicely weighed. . . . * . . . . . The Reſult of ſuch Obſervations would certainly be, a ſad but ſerious Senſe, how miſerable and weak, how defective and poor a Creature Man is, on the one hand; and yet how vain and arrogant, how proud and preſumptuous, how bloated and big with Air and Wind, what a mere Tumour, a Bladder, a Bubble he is, on the other. The former of theſe Repreſentations will move our Compaſſion; the lat- ter willraiſe our Horrour and Indignation. ... Now the former Book hath done him right in all theſe reſpects, by taking him to pieces, * examining every . D 2 2.Il Of Wiſdom. Book II. Is and feature by it ſelf; viewing him in all the diffe- rent Lights, and taking every Proſpečt the Pićture was capable of being drawn in. So that I ſhall trouble my Reader no further with any account of this nature at preſent: But hope he make a good Pro- ficiency in the buſineſs of this Second Book, by the Aſſiſtances given him in the Firſt. And in order to it, we will proceed to warn him of the chief Ob- ftrućtions in his way to Wiſdom,as They, who build, muſt firſt clear the Ground, and remove the Rubbiſh out of the way. The Mari, who deſires to become Wiſe, muſt at the very firſt entrance into this deſign, ſeriouſly ſet about, and ſtedfaſtly reſolve upon delivering, preſer- ving, and guarding himſelf effectually from two Evils; which are direétly oppoſite, and irreconcila- ble Enemies to Wiſdom; and ſuch abſolute impedi- ments to our progreſs in the ſtudies of it, that till They be got over, or taken out of the way, no Ad- vances can poſſibly be made. One of theſe is Exter- nal, conſiſting of the Vices, and the Opinions, in common Vogue, which, by the advantage of being Popular, ſpread, and propagate Folly, like a conta- gious Diſeaſ. ; the other Internal, and conſiſts of a man's own Paſſions; ſo that in ſhort, the Two great Adverſaries we have to fear, and are moſt concerned to defend our ſelves againſt, are the World, and our Selves. And after ſuch an Advertiſement, there needs no more be ſaid to ſhew, how hard this under- taking is: What courſe ſhall we take to get quit of theſe two, or how ſhall we run away from them 2 Wiſdom indeed is difficult and rare; but it is upon this account chiefly, that it is ſo; This is the trouble- ſome part of it; This in a manner the ſole Conflićt, we have to fear; when once This Combat is won, all the reſt is eaſy, and the Day our own. For the firſt thing, that can fit, or put us into any cº for Wi dom, Ch. 1. The Firſt Diſpoſition to Wiſdom. Wiſdom, muſt be to get clear of that Evil, which obſtructs our whole Deſign, and will not admit Wiſdom to dwell with, or grow near it. Now this is the Benefit my Reader is expected to reap from the Firſt Book, which, as I ſaid, may furniſh him with ſufficient Inſtructions for the getting throughly ac- quainted with the World and Himſelf; and this Knowledge will poſſeſs him with ſo juſt a Charaćter of Both, as cannot but aſſiſt and lead him on, to Conſideration and Care, and teach him to ſtand upon his guard, and diligently beware of both. Thus there is a ſtrićtand natural Connection between the two parts of this Treatiſe; for the Beginning and Firſt Step of the Second Book, is the End and Fruit of the Former. Let us firſt then ſay ſomewhat to that Hindrance, which is External. Now we have heretofore given a large and lively Deſcription of the Temper of the Common People; the ſtrange unaccountable Hu- mours of That, which is by much the moſt numerous part of Mankind; and it can be no hard matter to make a judgment from thence, what monſtrous ef. fedts thoſe humours muſt in all reaſon be expected to produce. For ſince the Vulgar are ſo bewitched with the love of Vanity, ſince they abound with Envy and Malice; ſince they are ſo totally void of Juſtice, and Judgment, and Diſcretion; ſince they are perfectly ſtrangers to Moderation and good Tem- per; what ſort of Deliberations, and Opinions, and Judgments, and Reſolutions, can we ſuppoſe them taken up with ? How indeed is it poſſible that they ſhould think, or ſpeak, or act, according to Truth, and good Senſe? We have likewiſe before, in that Chapter which undertook to repreſent the Miſery of Human Nature, given ſeveral remarkable, and bit too notorious inftances of the Faults and Failings, which the generality of the World are guilty of, both in point of Jºº. and ciº. I ºf - 3 now. Popular Error. Book 1. Ch. LII, Book 7. h, xxxix. 6 Of Wiſdom. Book II. how miſerably their Underſtandings are darken'd, and their Wills depraved; which may very eaſily. convince us, how fix’d, and deeply rooted they are in Error and Vice. To this purpoſe are thoſe Sayings common among Wiſe men, That the Greater part is always the worſe part of Mankind; There is not one of a Thouſand Good : That the Number of Fools is infinite. And that there is very great Danger of Infešion in the Croud. Upon theſe accounts their Advice is not only to keep one's ſelf Clear and Free, and have nothing at all to do with ſuch Opinions, and Deſigns, and Af. fections, as are popular and in vogue; but, as if all this Reſtraint were too little, not ſo much as to ven- ture your perſon among the Mob, to decline all manner of Converſation and Familiarity with the Vulgar; ſince it is impoſſible ever to approach that diſeaſed part of Mankind, without ſome faint, ſome peſtilential vapours, ſuch as will certainly bring dan- ger and detriment to our own Health. So contagi- ous is the very Breath and Company of the People; ſo little ought even the wiſeſt and perſons beſt eſta- bliſhed in Wirtue and Wiſdom, to truſt themſelves among them. For who indeed is ſtrong enough to ſuſtain the Attack of Vices, when they march up in. form of Battel, and charge by whole Troops at once 2 We ſee what a world of Miſchief one ſingle. Example of Avarice or Luxury does ; The Conver- ſation of One Effeminate Man ſoftens by degrees and enervates the Minds of them that live with him; One Rich Neighbour kindles our Deſires of Wealth; One Lewd Companion ſtrikes as it were his Extra- vagance and Debauchery into us ſo forcibly, that we may even feel the Impreſſion; it eats like a Can- ker, and nothing is ſo ſolid; ſo clean, to be free. from the Ruſt of it. And if this be the Caſe of par- ticular. Inſtances, what do we think muſt the Condi- tion and the Power be, of thoſe Vices and Diſpoſi- ; : . - tions Ch. 1. The Firſt Tiſpoſition to Wiſdom. tions that are become General, and ſuch as all the world run into with full Cry, and wild Career : . . And yet after all, as neceſſary as this keepingaloof off from Infection is, the thing is exceeding difficult, and but ſeldom put in practice. For to follow the beaten Track is ſomething very plauſible, and carries a great Appearance of Juſtice and Goodneſs, Humi- lity and Condeſcenſion in it. The Road is plain and large, and Travellers are eaſily ſeduced into it. Singularity is a By-path, and none but fanciful or conceited men are thought to take it. We go on. after our Leaders, like Beaſts in a Herd : The Rea- ſonableneſs, and Worth, and Juſtice of a thing is rarely examined; but Example and Cuſtom are the moving Arguments; and thus we hurry on , and ſtumble at the ſame Stones, and fall upon one ano- ther in heaps; we preſs and puſh forward, and draw whole multitudes upon the ſame Precipice; and there we fall and periſh, merely upon the Credit of thoſe that go before us. Now the Man that would be wiſe indeed, muſt take quite contrary Meaſures. He muſt receive nothing upon Content and Example on- ly; but be very jealous and conſiderate, and ſuſpect every thing which he finds the generality of Man- kind agreed in, and fond of; and inſtead of count- ing Numbers, and pračtiſing by the Poll, he muſt weigh the Goodneſs of the thing; not ſuffering him- ſelf to be deluded with fair Appearances, with gene- ral Approbations, or common uſe, or doing as the reſt of the world do , but nicely examine the real intrinſick worth of Things and Aëtions, and reſolve to ſtand alone, where this will not juſtify his Com- pliance. Thou ſhalt not follow a multitude to do evil, is a juſt, a prudent, a neceſſary Precept; and a moſt vicious and miſtaken Modeſty That is, which pre- vails with us to diſobey it. When therefore any one would cut us ſhort, and thinks to knock all our Arguments on the head, by ſaying, All the world # B 4 of Of Wiſdom. Book II. of this Opinion, or all the world does thus, a conſiderate Man will anſwer to himſelf at leaſt, I like it ſo much the worſe for that; this is but a very ſcurvy Caution, for their Approbation makes me ſuſpect it the more. Thus the Wiſe Phocion, when he ſaw the whole Auditory highly applaud ſomething he had ſpoken, turned about, and asked his Friends that ſtood by, What was the matter; whether he had let fall ſomewhat which ought not to have been ſaid, or been guilty of ſome egregious Impertinence, that all the People were ſo mightily pleaſed with him. The wiſeſt me- thod then, is to decline, as much as poſſibly we can, any Familiarity or frequent Converſation with the People, who are generally fooliſh, ignorant, and a very odd Medley of Men: But, if our affairs will not permit that, yet at leaſt it muſt be our conſtant Care to avoid their received opinions, not to be born down with their Judgments, nor conform our ſelves to their Temper and Complexion, nor be corrupted by their vicious Diſpoſitions and Pračtices: But at the ſame time we live in the world, we muſt not be of the world. And This indeed is the Reaſon why Solitude is ſo much and ſo earneſtly recommended by Philoſophers and Wiſe men; a Solitude, that con- fiſts in ſetting the Soul free, and diſcarding all popu- lar Cpinions, and reigning Vices; delivering the Mind from the Bondage and Confuſion, which Cu. ftom, and Example, and the Common Cry ſubječt it to ; that ſo it may have leiſure to retire into it 5. Second Thing, Ex- emption from Paſi- 97, J. ſelf, and take its full Range without Interruption or Reſtraint. * * . . . * , 1 ... , -- * - The other Inconvenience, and fatal Obſtruction of Wiſdom, is Internal; and as ſuch threatens more imminent Danger, and requires a greater portion of our Care. And This is that Slavery and Perplexity " which our own Paſſions and diſorderly Affections put us into, And againſt Theſe there ought to be a firićt and ſtrong guard, to prevent their Tumults t - . . . . . . : : and Ch. 1. The Firſt Tiſpoſition to Wiſdom. --- and Inſurrečtions; or rather indeed we ought, if that were poſſible, to diſpoſſeſs them quite, that ſo our Mind might be clean, and open, and unſullied, like a Blank Paper, ready to receive any In- ſcription, any Tinéture of Wiſdom, againſt which the Paſſions are formal and declared Enemies, by the Stains and Prejudices they leave upon it. This gave occaſion for that Saying of ſome Wiſe Hea- thens, That it was not poſſible, even for jupiter himſelf to be in Love, or to be angry, or affected ſtrongly with any other Paſſion, and yet to be Wiſe at the ſame time. And accordingly both Reaſon and Revelation in the Ideas they teach us to form of God, repreſent him void of all Paſſions, Body, or Bodily Affections; as Infirmities by no means con- ſiſtent with the Excellencies of an Abſolutely Good and Perfect Being. Wiſdom is a regular condućt of the Soul; it proceeds in number, and weight, and meaſure; it is an evenneſs and ſmoothneſs, a ſweet and pleaſing Harmony of our Judgments and Wills, and well-proportioned Diſpoſitions. A conſtant health and ſoundneſs of the Mind; whereas the Paſ- ſions quite contrary, are the Ague-fits of a diſtem- pered Soul, the Boundings and Reboundings of Fol- ly; the wild Skips, and wanton Sallies, and impe- tuous Emotions, and raſh unguided Flights of the Man, without any Aim, or Order, or Meaſure. The Colours, in which the former Book painted our Paſſions are ſo black and hideous, that they can- not but ſhew us their Deformity, and may create in us a juſt horror and deteſtation of them. The Re- medies and Means for ſubduing each of theſe in par- ticular, will come in more properly in the Third Book, under the Topicks of Fortitude and Temperance. But of thoſe which are general, and our preſent Bu- ſineſs, there are ſeveral, and of different kinds, ſome Good, and ſome Evil. I do not here reckon that Happineſs of Conſtitution and Natural Bleſſedneſs, 6. General Re- medies a- gainſ them. which 'no. Of Wiſdom. Book II. - 7. Stupidity. which renders the Man ſo well tempered, as to pre- ſerve him calm and ſerene; not ſubject to any ſtrong Paſſions, or violent Emotions of Soul; and keeps him in a conſtant, ſmooth, even, uniform compo- ſure of Spirit, harden’d and impenetrable, and proof againſt all Attacks. This indeed is an uncommon Excellency; but it is not ſo properly a Remedy againſt Evil, as an Exemption from it; it is not a Medicine or an Inſtrument of Recovery, but it is an effectual Prevention of Sickneſs, and the State of Health it ſelf. This therefore falls not within the compaſs of our Subječt and Deſign in this place, which is to preſcribe Remedies truly ſo called; and of Them I ſhall propoſe Four to the Reader's Obſervation. . . . . . . . . The Firſt, which in truth is not at all adviſable, nor hath any real Goodneſs to recommend it, is a ſort of Stupidity or Inſenſibility of Mind, which does not feel, nor apprehend at all. A Brutiſh Apa- thy, incident to mean Souls, ſuch as are either per- feetly ſeared and dead, or have their Apprehenſions in great meaſure blunted and dulled; a ſort of Cal- louſneſs and Cruſt upon the Senſitive parts; a Spi- ritual Lethargy, and conſtant Heavineſs, which though it have ſome Air of Health and Eaſe, yet what we think ſo is in effect its Diſeaſe. For there can be no ſuch thing as Wiſdom and Conſtancy, where there is no Knowledge, no Senſe, no Activity at all. And therefore this does not cure the Diſtem- per, but only render the Patient inſenſible of his Illneſs. But yet This, as bad as it is, is better, and much rather to be choſen, than the knowing, and feeling, and ſuffering ones ſelf to be vanquiſhed and preyed upon by the painful Impreſſion: What Ho- race ſays of his Writings, is thus far applicable to the Affections and Follies of Mankind; I had Ch. 1. The Firſt 1)iſpoſition to Wiſdom. 1 r I had rather be a little Wit, So my dull Verſe my own dear Self delight, Thin know my Faults, be vex'd, and dye with Spight. Creech. The Second Remedy is very little or nothing better 8. than the Diſeaſe it ſelf, and yet it is more uſed, and A counter: oftner applied, than any other. This is, when a man Peſſion. vanquiſhes one Paſſion, and ſtifles it by the more prevailing Force of another. For the Paſſions are never equally poized, but one or other of them will always caſt the Scales. Now we are frequently guilty of a great Error, in attributing things to Virtue and Wiſdom, in which They never had the leaſt hand or concern, but they are purely the Effects of Paſſion. And it happens very well for Perſons under theſe Circumſtances, when thoſe which ride higheſt, and have got the Dominion in their Souls, are not of the worſt ſort of Paſſions. The Third, which is indeed a Good Remedy, - though not the very Beſt, is a matter of Prudence P evention, and Artifice, by which a Man ſteals out of the way, runs, hides himſelf, and keeps at a diſtance from the Occaſions and Accidents, which he knows, or hath found by Experience, apt to provoke and put him out of Temper; ſuch as wake the ſleeping Lion, and give Fire to his Paſſions. This is a Study, and a Knack men have of putting themſelves upon a poſture of Defence; or rather of keeping good Out- guards; upon the alarming whereof they may have leiſure to retreat, or ſo to ſecure the Paſſes and Ave- nues, that the Approach of Evils may be intercepted * Prætulerim Scriptor delirus inerſque videri, Dum mea delettent mala me, vel denique fallant, Quam ſapere & ringi. " " " Horat, Epift. 2, Lib. 2. and Of Wiſdom. Book II. and prevented. Of this kind is that common Story of a Prince, who immediately broke a Rich Cup that was preſented to him, for fear it ſhould provoke his Anger, if by Chance or Negligence it ſhould happen to be broken by another hand. The proper and conſtant Prayer of theſe men is, Lead us not into Temptation. Thus it is, that Men reſolve againſt Ga— ming, who feel themſelves unable to command their Temper, and cannot play without Paſſion. And thus Men of nice Honour, and prone to Anger, de- cline Diſputes in Company, and cruſh the very firſt motions to Strife in the birth. For when a man is once engaged, it is difficult to make a good Retreat; and the After-Game of Wiſdom and Diſcretion is very hard and hazardous to play. In the Begin- ning we manage things as we pleaſe, and have them at our mercy; but when once the fire is kindled, and we are grown warm, they manage and carry Us how and whither they will. It is certainly much eaſier wholly to decline a Paſſion, than to keep it within juſt bounds and meaſures; and that which few can moderate, almoſt any body may prevent. And the Reaſon is plainly this; Becauſe all things in their infancy and at firſt, are ſmall and feeble, flexible and tender. But the misfortune is, that while they are weak we are not ſenſible of the Dan- ; ger; and when they are grown ſtubborn and ſtrong, we are not capable of a Remedy. This any man may obſerve in common Converſation. How ma- ny inſtances could every one of my Readers recol- lect of perſons, who upon every ſlight occaſion fall into Quarrels, commence Law-ſuits, engage in Di- ſputes and Controverſies, and are at laſt forced to give out with Diſgrace; come to ſhameful and diſt. honourable Accommodations; take Sanétuary in mean and equivocating Interpretations; belye and contradict themſelves; betray, their want of Ho- neſty; go againſt their own Schſe ; palliate, and - diſguiſe, Ch.1. The Firſt Diſpoſition to Wiſdom. 13 diſguiſe, and colour over matters of Fačt ; which are all of them miſerable Refuges, and Remedies ten thouſand times worſe, than the Diſeaſe they would cure? In all theſe caſes it were much better not to begin at all, than to bring matters to ſuch a Concluſion. For, for want of timely Prudence and good Conduct, they fall into want of Integrity and Good Senſe. And ſo in all their Proceedings they run directly counter to that wiſe Advice of Bias, which is to ſet out and undertake things coolly and conſiderately; but, when we are well ſatisfied of the Juſtice and Reaſonableneſs of our Enterprize, then to proſecute it warmly and vigorouſly. It is in this manner, that thoſe fooliſh Men expoſe them- ſelves, who out of a vicious Eaſineſs and Complai- ſance, are, aſhamed to deny any requeſt made to them ; but after this mighty Liberality in promiſing, are every whit as apt and eaſy to break their word again, and proſtitute that Honour vilely, which was engaged with ſo much Levity. And therefore in all our Affairs, in all our dealings and Converſation with men, nothing is more requiſite, than to look before us, to make true ſteps at firſt, and be well adviſed, before we begin. - The Fourth, and infinitely the Beſt Remedy of ro, all is a ſtanch and Vigorous Wirtue ; a Reſolution and Pirtue, Firmneſs of Mind, by which a man is qualified to look any Accidents in the Face ; to meet and come up cloſe to them, without Starting, or Diſorder, or Confuſion; to enter into the Liſts, and encounter them gallantly. This is a brave, a noble, a glori- ous Impaſſibility indeed; which ſets the Mind above Trouble, directly contrary to the firſt of theſe Re- medies, which conſiſted in an impenetrable Tem- per, a heavy, ſottiſh, ſenſleſs Stupidity. And there is nothing will Contribute more to the working us up into this generous Gallantry of Spirit, than the furniſhing and forming our Judgments with good Inſtructions; #4 Of Wiſdom. Book Iſ. Inſtructions; digeſting them thoroughly, and ap- plying them Seaſonably; but eſpecially the fortify- ing our ſelves with Thought and Deliberation, that ſo we never fall under the Terrors of Surprize; but be prepared to defend our Poſt, whenever they at- tack us. For Reaſoning and Diſcourſe maſters the Paſſions, and Premeditation is the thing, which har- dens the Soul, and renders it proof, againſt all the Evils that would ſoften and ſubdue it. And one great help towards the preſerving us impregnable, will be a ſerious Reflection upon what hath already been delivered in the foregoing parts of this Book ; For the proper method of calming and ſweetning the Paſſions, is to get well acquainted with the na- ture of them; to examine them nicely, and know exactly, what Influence they have upon Us, and what Command we have over them. But eſpecially we ſhould guard our ſelves againſt too eaſy a Credu– lity, and not ſuffer any raſh Surmiſe or Opinion, to foment or inflame our Paſſions; for Falſhood, and Folly, and Uncertainty, tranſport Fools only ; a Wiſe Man will weigh things calmly, and coolly, and ſuffer himſelf to be carried no farther than ma- ture Judgment, and meaſured Truth lead him : For t Reaſon is his only Guide, and every Impreſſion is - brought to this Standard, and ſtrictly examined by it. But of This, beſides the light given us already, we ſhall be more fully and particularly qualified to make a Judgment, both from what follows in this Second Book, and from the Inſtructions to be added in the Third, when we come to enlarge there upon the Virtues of Fortitude and Temperance. . . . But above all other Paſſions, That of Self-Love, and Preſumption,and inordinate Fondheſs of our owrº Imaginations, Opinions, and Aëtions, requires a ſtrict and watchful Eye, and the ſtrongeſt guard we can poſt- ſibly ſet over it. For this is the very Peſt of Man-- kind; the moſt mortal and irreconcilable Enemy to Wiſdom sº II. Ch. 1. The Firſt Diſpoſition to Wiſdom. 15 Wiſdom; the very Corruption and Gangrene of the Soul, by which it mortifies, and grows abſolutely incurable. This ſwells us with vain Conceits, and falſe Satisfactions and Confidences; we make undue eſtimates of our ſelves, and are marvellouſly pleaſed with our own ſuppoſed Sufficiency; nay we perfeół- ly Idolize, fall down and worſhip our Selves, and neither believe, nor hear, any body but our Selves. Now indeed we can never be in worſe hands than our own, and that Prayer of the Spaniards is a very ſignificant and ſenſible one, O God preſerve me from my ſelf. Such Preſumption and fooliſh Self-Love proceeds from miſtake; and Ignorance, is not ſo truly the Mother of any Devotion, as of this. Were men but duly ſenſible, how weak and wretched, how impotent and little,how full of Infirmities and Er- rors,Human Nature is in general; and were each Man duly ſo of his own perſonal Defects and Frailties in particular, that Divine Counſel of not being wiſe in our ºwn Conceits, would be much better obeyed: And obeyed it is neceſſary it ſhould be; for till we are free of this Wanity, we can never arrive at true and ſound Wiſdom. It ſtops our Ears againſt all Advice and Inſtruction,and ſuffersus not to ſee our own Wants, nor the Abilities of others to direét and improve us. whoneſty and Integrity, Modeſty and Diligence, a ‘meek and teachable Temper, a ſerious, and hearty, and humble acknowledgment of our Deficiency; : Theſe are not only the firſt and ſureſt Steps to Virtue, ibut the greateſt Evidence of a ſolid Judgment, a clear Underſtanding, a rightly-diſpoſed Will, and ..unbiaſed Affections; and conſequently, a moſt thopeful and promiſing, as well as it is an indiſpenſably Requiſite Preparation, to the Study and Attainment ºf Wiſdom and Goodneſs. ! . y - !: a C. H. A. P. Rotºl. 12; 16. Of Wiſdom. Book II: 1. C H A P. II. An entire Liberty of the Mind; The See cond Prediſpoſition, requiſite in order to Wiſdom. H E other Diſpoſition to Wiſdom, which is T in truth a natural Conſequence and Improve— ment of the former, is (after we have delivered our ſelves from the Bondage and Captivity of Popu- lar Opinions from without, and our own Paſſions from within ) to attain to a full, entire, and gene- rous Liberty of Mind; and this is of two ſorts, ac- cording to the two great Faculties concerned in the Purſuit of Wiſdom, implying Firſt, a Liberty of Judgment, and then a Liberty of the Will. . . The Former of theſe, which regards the Judg- ment, conſiſts in conſidering, judging, and exami- ning all things; yet not Tying ones # up to any, but remaining ſtill free, and at ones own diſpoſal : of a large univerſal Spirit, open and ready to hears any thing that ſhall be offered. This is the higheſt pitch of Soul, the moſt peculiar and diſtinguiſhing Priviledge of a truly Great and Wiſe Man; but ſuch a one I confeſs it is, as all People are not ca- pable of underſtanding, and much leſs ſtill of at- taining to it. Upon which account I think my ſelf obliged to eſtabliſh this Point, againſt the Objecti. ons of thoſe Vulgar Souls, which are not of Capa- city large enough for true Wiſdom. And firſt of all, to prevent all Miſtakes and uri- reaſonable Cavils upon Words, I will explain the Terms made uſe of here, and give the true ºff G Ch.1. The Second Diſpoſition to Wiſdom. 17. ºf them. Now this Deſcription conſiſts of Three things, which mutually Produce, and Support one another. And theſe are, judging every thing, being Willed or tied up to Nothing, and preſerving a }. f Soul, and being ready to hearken to any thing that ſhall k offered. - . . ." By judging in the firſt of theſe Particulars, it is phin I cannot mean Reſolving, Determining, or Po- fively Affirming; becauſe this would imply a di- rºt Contradićtion to the Second Branch of the De- ſtiption. And therefore no more can poſſibly be Enderſtood by it, than Examining and Weighing all matters that come before us; putting the Argu- mentsfor either Side of the Queſtion into the Ba- lance, to ſee which Scale Preponderates, and where the Merits of the Cauſe lie; that by this means the Truth may, after long and diligent Diſquiſition, at liſt be clearly made out. . . . . . . . . . . . . Then again, By mot eſpouſing, or being bound up to ºn thing, I do not intend ſtopping ſhort of the Truth, affecting Uncertainty, and floating in the Air; ſometimes talking and ačting one way, and ſometimes the direct contrary; and ſo never proceed- ing or reſolving anything after ſuch Deliberations as are requiſite for a Man of Conſtahey and Prúdence, not venturing to Aét, becauſe he cannot be poſitive, that his Judgment is right; For I would have #. Philoſopher conform to the Cuſtoms of the World; and in all the external and common Paſſages of Human Life, ačt like other Men. The Rules pre- fibed here have nothing at all to do with any Man's Commerce of outward Behaviour; their Bu- ineſs is only to regulate the Mind; and to ſet the Thoughts and Judgment right within. Nay, and even in this Inward Regulation too, I am content; # Men'ſ old readily intº probabie Evidence; Tºyºmºrºſis, whereºfind the greateſt * * * * Jºiº, - - - Ö 18 Of Wiſdom. Book II. of Convenience and Advantage. But ſtill that This fhould be done with ſome ſort of Modeſty and Re- ſerve; avoiding all Poſitiveneſs, and Stiffneſs; all indecent Cenſures and Contemptuous Uſage of thoſe who think otherwiſe: Treating the Contrary Opi- nions, be they never ſo diſtant, be they New, or Old, with Candour and Caution ; diſdaining no- thing that can be offered, but ready and content to hear the Arguments of thoſe that oppoſe us. Nay, not only content, but deſirous, that they ſhould op- poſe us, and alledge whatever they have to fay againſt our Notions; Becauſe This will put us upon a more Accurate Exerciſe of the Firſt of theſe Qua- lifications, and oblige us to conſiderand weigh things more cautiouſly. - " . . . . . - Now theſe Three Qualities I affirm to preſerve, and mutually to ſupport each other; For He that examines things carefully and without Paſſion, will find ſomewhat of Reaſon and Probability on every ſide; ſo much at leaſt as will preſerve him, not only from #. and Precipitation, but from Perem- ptorineſs and Obſtinacy; and this puts the Mind in that State of Ingenuity, and Indifference, which I mean by Openneſs, and Univerſality of Soul. Whereas on the contrary, the Man, who fixes abſo- lutely, hath cut himſelf out from farther Examina- tion, he is faſten’d down to the Notions already en- tertained by him; and makes himſelf of a Party, jeſolved to maintain his Opinion, in deſpight of all Senſe and Reaſon to the Contrary. . . ; : - … . . , Simple and Credulous and Fooliſh Men are de- fective in the Firſt of theſe Qualifications; Opinia- ters, and Dogmatical Arguers are faulty in the Se- cond Point; and both the one and the other Sort, when they turn factious, and eſpouſe a Party, offend againſt the Third. But a Philoſophet indeed, whoſe only aim is Truth, and whoſe Purſuits of it are re- gular and diſoreet, is: Wiſe, and . Modeſt, and Mo- º derate, Ch.1. The Second Diſpoſition to Wiſdom. 19 -- ? - - under ſome neceſſity to rº, and confirm what - 2. derate, and ſo an exact Obſerver of all theſe Rules. - - - - - - - It is farther neceſſary, for the giving a true State of the Matter I am now upon, to add, that by the All things to be nicely examined, and the Noonething to be reſolutely eſpouſed, I mean ſuch Obječts only; as are merely humane, and Matters proper for a Philoſophical Enquiry. So that This º by no means be thought to concern Revealed an Divine Truths. For Theſe we are obliged, not in Duty only, but by the ſtrićteſt Reaſon too, to re- ceive, with an entire ſubmiſſion and moſt profound humility. Theſe are not Matters for Diſcuſſion and Controverſy; we have nothing to do here, but to bow down the Head and Worſhip ; to reſtrain the Inſolence of Reaſon, when it would ſawcily pry into the Ark; to check and captivate our Minds, and reſign our Uhderſtandings to the Obedience of Faith. But, theſe Religious and Sacred Objećts ex- cepted, none of the reſt need diſdain to come within thoſe Conditions, and ought not to be received up- on eaſier terms. - - - - This ſhort Explanation of the Terms might per- haps ſuffice for Men of Equity and Good Senſe, and ſave me the Trouble of any farther Enlargement; but becauſe I ſee plainly that there are a Party of Men in the world, of a poſitive, fierce and domi- neering Spirit, who are for leading all Mankind after them in a very Magiſterial manner; and, ha- ving firſt inviolably engaged in ſome particular Prin- ciples and Opinions themſelves, take the Confidence to expect, that every Body elſe ſhould come in up- on Their Authority; and for that reaſon will not. endure any thing that looks like aſſerting Liberty of Thinking; In oppoſition to theſe ſtiff, aſſuming Gentlemen; and to prevent, or at leaſt to defeat their Outcries this Occaſion, I think myſelf hath Of Wiſdom. Book II. hath been here advanced ; and will therefore conſi- der each Branch of this Propoſition diſtinctly, as the parts lye beforeus. The Firſt of Theſe is fudging every thing; which is the peculiar Chara&ter of the Wiſeſt and moſt ex- alted Underſtandings, The proper Office of a Man; the moſt natural, moſt becoming employment of a Rational Soul. To what purpoſe, I would fain know, were thoſe Noble Faculties of Diſcourſe gi- ven us; why have we that penetrating Wit, that Diſcerning and Acute Spirit Is it to build Caſtles in the Air with, and feed our ſelves with Extrava- gant Fancies, or to laviſh it away upon uſeleſs Vani- ties, and Trifles, as the greateſt part of Mankind do? Eyes certainly were made to take Advantage of the Light; and theſe Powers to exert themſelves in that Judicial Authority, which this Superinten- dant of the lower world, hath over the Works of Nature and Providence. To entrench upon this Prerogative, were to maim his very Eſſence ; to unman, and to degrade him into Beaſt. And to exerciſe this Right is the Property of a Man, and to do it in an Eminent and Uncommon Manner, is the very Mark and Diſtinction of a Wiſe Man. If then the Neglect of this Power be ſo great a Viola- tion of the Nature and Privileges of Mankind in general, the giving up an Original Right, which ought not by any means to be parted with ; how. much more inexcuſable is it in a Wiſe-man, who is ſo march better qualified for it, and hath ſtronger pretenſions to that Authority, than thoſe of meaner Abilities can have 2. It is therefore, in my Appre- henſion, a moſt amazing thing, that ſo many per- ſons, even among thoſe, who either have, or at kºaſt ſet up for Learning and Good Senſe, ſhould of their own accord give up ſo juſt a Right, and tamely ſubmit to what comes next; nay, approve whatfo- Gyêr hath the leaſt Colour of a Probability; or per- *:::: . * haps Ch. 2. The Second1)iſpoſition to Wiſdom. 2 I haps nothing but Cuſtom and common Credit to keep it in Countenance ; without ever going about to call the Cauſe, and examine whether there be any Merits in it or no. Nay, not only to ſubmit, but to think themſelves bound to do ſo; and that they are not at liberty to ſatisfy their own Reaſon. What a Horrible Indignity, what a Degradation of Humane Nature is This? In other Caſes we find them bold and aſſuming, extremely jealous of their Honour, and tenacious of their Privileges: But here they are deſpicably tame, and poor-ſpirited, which is the juſteſt, the moſt indiſputable, the moſt inherent Property of any that belongs to them. : 'Tis certain, that there can be but One Truth, but Falſhood is infinite: A Thouſand differing Judg- ments upon the ſame Thing, and but One of all theſe in the right; and ſhall I in the midſt of all this Doubt and Confuſion, be forbidden to uſe the Means God hath put into my hands, for the finding out which That is Shall it bethought Taking more upon me than becomes me, if I endeavour to diſco- ver the beſt Appearance of Truth, or Equity, or Profit, or Convenience, for a Rule and Meaſure to my own Aćtions 2 Is it poſſible to ſuppoſe, that a- mong the many diſagreeing, nay oppoſite Laws and, Cuſtoms of the World, none but Ours ſhould be good for any thing? Are all Mankind out of their Senſes, and hath every other Nation taken wrong Meaſures? Who can have the C onfidence to aſſert this? Or who makes any Queſtion, but other Coun- tries are even with us, and think every whit as mean- ly of Our Conſtitutions, as we do of Theirs? Nay, there is no diſpute, but this very Perſon, whoever he be, that is ſo blindly fond of his Native Man- ners, would have had the ſame partial Liking for thoſe of any other place, where it had been his For- tune to have been born and bred : . He would have been as warm in [referring Thoſe, above ſuch ſº 3 lº Of Wiſdom. Book II, he now thinks beſt, for no other reaſon 'tis plain, but becauſe he hath been uſed to them. If any Man ſhall venture to aſſert the Contrary, I muſt beg leave at leaſt to anſwer him; that This Liberty of Judging is a good Rule however for all Foreigners to make Uſe of; that ſo They by the Pračtice of it may convince themſelves, how much Our methods of Living excel Theirs. This he muſt rant me ſure; and if he do, it will follow, that a § Man will think it adviſable to do this upon All Gccaſions; and paſs Sentence upon nothing, till he have allowed it a fair hearing, and weighed the Matter impartially. To be led thus like Oxen, and follow the Herd, is fit for none but Brutes, or Men but one Remove above them. I would by all means have a man behave and expreſs himſelf, and make his Figure in compliance with the reſt of the World; but I would not have him conform his Judgment to Theirs, nay I would have him even fit in Judgment upon Theirs. What Privilege do you leave the greateſt Philoſopher above the moſt ignorant Clown, if the nobleſt part of him, his Mind, ſhall be en- ſlaved to common Vogue 2 Methinks the World ſhould be very well ſatisfied with a Man's Compli- ance in outward Behaviour: But all Within is my Own; And what hath the World to do with my Thoughts 2 They ſhall give Rules if they pleaſe to my Tongue, and my Hand; but my Mind, by their good Leave, is out of their Juriſdićtion, and is ac- countable to another Maſter. The Liberty of the Mind is what no body can actually take away; and if any Attempt it, they are of all Tyrants and Uſurpers, the moſt unreaſonable, the moſt inſupportable, Every Wiſe Man will be ſure to be tender of it, and offend in neither Extreme, for he will neither endure to part with his own Freedom, nor offer to invade any other Man's. : º e Now Ch. 2. The Second1)iſpoſition to Wiſdom; 23 Now I own, that while a Wiſe Man aſſerts this Liberty to himſelf, it cannot be expected, that he ſhould be always of a piece : For at this rate his Hand and his Opinion, his Body and his Mind will be frequently put upon contradićtions to one ano- ther; and there is no avoiding it : becauſe Prudence governs his outward Aétions, and private Judgment the Sentiments of his Soul. So that here are two different Charaćters to be maintained, and he muſt play both, or be unjuſt either to the World, or to himſelf. The Common Remark, that all Mankind at a part upon this Stage of the World, is as ſtrictly true of the Wiſeſt Men, as of any others whatſo- ever: for they are quite other ſort of perſons within than they appear to the Spectators; and if they ſhould not play thus, but ſhew themſelves without any manner of diſguiſe, the difference would never be endured, all their Behaviour would be ſo particu- lar: And yet at the ſame time were their real Opi- nions in agreement with their Pračtice, this would involve them in ſo many Errors and Corruptions, that they would not be able to endure themſelves. Many Compliances muſt be indulged out of Reſpect to the Opinion of the World, and the Laws and Cu- ſtoms, which prevail abroad; and particularly, in the places where we dwell: But then a man owes it to himſelf too, not to make Theſe the Standard of his Opinions, but form Them upon the Diétates of Nature, and the Rules of Univerſal Equity and Reaſon./ And he who does thus, muſt content him- ſelf with many things which he does not ſtrićtly ap- prove; and while he lives among Men, muſt act as They do, but with this Reſerve to himſelf, that theſe things are not done by him, in the Quality of a Wiſe Man, but merely under the general Charaćter of a Man, and a Member of Society. Thus He in his Actions, will be like Cicero in his Expreſſions; who declared he referred the Uſage of Words to the Peo- C 4 ple, Of Wiſdom. Book II, ple, but the proper meaning of them he reſerved the right of judging in to himſelf. To inſtance now in a few particulars ; and thoſe ſome of them very frivolous, and of little or no Conſequence. I make no Scruple to pull off my Hat in Civility and Deference to a Man of Quality, becauſe this part of the World expreſs their Reſpect that way; but at the ſame time fam free to think, the Eaſtern Cuſtom better, who expreſs their Reve- rence by laying their hand upon their Breaſt ; and never hazard their Health, nor expoſe themſelves to any of the other Inconveniences incident tofrequent Uncovering of the Head. So again, were Ian In- habitant of the Oriental parts of the World, I would eat my Meals upon the ground, or leaning, or ly- ing along, as they do, and as great part of the World did heretofore, particularly the fews, as we find by the Deſcription of our Lord's laſt Supper ; but ſtill I could not forbear in my own private judg- ment, preferring the fitting upright at Table, as our preſent manner is, for the much more commodious way of Eating. Again, to mention a Matter of ſomewhat greater Importance, I am ſatisfied, that the Dead Bodies of my Friends ſhould be interred, and given as a Prey to the Worms ; but ſtill I can- not but think the old way of burning, and preſerving their Aſhes in Urns, much more cleanly, and more noble ; that Fire is more reſpectful than Putrefaction and Stench; an Element, which even Religion hath given ſome Countenance to , by commanding the Remainders of the Paſchal Lamb heretofore to be burnt: But what can we do worſe than to caſt our Friends to rot in the ground, and be eaten by Ver- mine and Infects ; an Indignity, which to Me ſeems fit to be offered, only to thoſe Scandalous Wretches who dye by the Hands of Common Executioners: but the Remains of Perſons of Honour and Virtué (in my poor Apprehenſion) ſhould be otherwiſe treat- - - ed. Ch. 2. The Second Diſpoſition to Wiſdom. 25 r ed. For of the five ſeveral ways by which dead Bodies are capable of being diſpoſed of, ( the com- mitting them to the mercy of the four ſeveral Ele- ments, or ſuffering them to be devoured by Beaſts;) that of Burning ſeems to me much the moſt eligible. Once more. I am well enough pleaſed to have the Wiſe Man of my forminglook out of Countenance, and take care to decline and conceal every thing that paſſes for Immodeſt in the Eſteem of the World; and muſt have a very ill Opinion of him, ſhould he do otherwiſe: But then I deſire he ſhould be ſatisfied, that this is due from him in regard to the Cuſtoms and common Sentiments of other people; not to any ſhame in the Nature of the Things them- ſelves. For Nature, that is, the God of Nature, never made any thing which was reproachful, and theſe Ignominies are purely accidental; the produćt of Sin, which is the Greateſt Enemy and Corrupter of Nature. Even Religion it ſelf, which is much more Chaſte and Reſerv'd than Philoſophy, aſſures us, that while Man continued in his Original Inno- cence and Perfection, there was no ſuch thing as Shame; but That and Guilt entred the World at On CC. -- I comply with the Mode of my own Countrey, in point of Cloaths and Dreſs; and ſo I would have gone Naked too, if my Lot had caſt me in a Coun- trey where it is uſual to do ſo. But to Me both theſe Faſhions appear ſo inconvenient, that, were I left to my own Choice entirely, I ſhould do neither. The manner of thoſe Nations, which uſe ſome One ſlight Garment, plain and light, without Conſtraint, or Ceremony, or Great Expence , is much the beſt in my apprehenſion. For the multitude of Cloaths, and the different Sorts of them, but eſpe- cially the Wanity and abominable Extravagance the World is guilty of in them , is a thouſand times worſe than going Naked. Theſe Inſtances I content my Of Wiſdom. Book II. A my ſelf with the mention of at preſent; my Reader may multiply them to himſelf at pleaſure, upon Oc- caſion of the infinite Wariety of Laws and Cuſtoms, and Modes, and Matters of Fačt; and the as great Variety in Opinions too, and conteſts in Matter of Right, and what is fit to be done, as well as what is ačtually done. If any ſhall ſuppoſe me in the wrong, as to the foregoing Inſtances, or obječt againſt this Liberty in general, as an Indulgence of dangerous Conſe- quence; That by this means mens minds will never ſettle, but they will be eternally loſt in a Wood, and fill their heads with idle and phantaſtical Notions: I anſwer, as to the former part, which relates more immediately to my ſelf; that it is very poſſible I may lye under a miſtake in ſome or all of thoſe Caſes; but then it argues great Confidence thus to charge any man with being in the wrong ; for ſuch a one doesin effect aſſume to himſelf the knowledge of Exaćt Truth, and ſeems to ſay, that He is Ma- ſter of it, though others be not. Nor ſhould I much be mortified, though the Charge were true: for the not hitting upon the Right, is no certain Argument, that a man judges amiſs. For This con- ſiſts in not giving Arguments their due weight, not confronting them fairly, nor holding theScales even; not meaſuring by the Level and Standard of Uni- verſal Reaſon, and Nature in her primitive Per- feótion. Now a man may diſcharge the examining part very faithfully and diligently, and yet he may not attain to the Truth notwithſtanding. But, to deal plainly , I give no Credit to any thing till it be proved to me. If the Objector brings me ſtronger and more weighty Reaſons againſt my Opinion, than any I have to urge in defence of it, I bid him heartily welcome; and ſhall thank him for the op- portunity which his Contradićtion gives me, to exer- ciſe this Judicial Authority with ſo much greater accuracy Ch.1. The Second Diſpoſition to Wſdom: 27. accuracy, Ionly take up with my preſent Thoughts, till better Information give me Cauſe to change them; and therefore they are only upon good li- king; ready to be diſmiſſed, when more rational ones may ſucceed in their ſtead. But, as to the more general part of the Objećti- on, which regards the dangerous Conſequences and pernicious Effects of ſuch a Liberty; beſides what hath been urged already, and will be more at large hereafter, (That the Rule, by which our Judgments are to be directed, is Nature and Univerſal Reaſon, which ſo long as we keep cloſe to, we are ſecure from Error: ) the Second Branch of this Judicious Liberty, will provide us with Remedies againſt this ſuppoſed Miſchief; and That is what I ſhall now apply my ſelf to treat of particularly and fully. The Other branch then of this Abſolute Liberty of Soul, conſiſts in a ſort of Indifference, and a Suſpending one's Judgment and Final Reſolution. By This the Wiſe Man preſerves his Temper; his Affections are not engaged, and ſo he can conſider every thing without Heat or Paſſion: He is not at all provoked by Oppoſition, not ſtaked down to any one Notion; but keeps an Ear always open for the Contrary Party, and is ready to receive either the Truth, or that which ſeems to make a nearer Ap- proach, and carry greater Reſemblance to it, than the Ideas he hath entertain’d already. When he ſeems moſt determined, his ſecret Senſe goes no far- ther, than This is my preſent Opinion ; and I have reaſon to embrace it above any other : but ſtill he can hear it contradićted without any Diſorder, and ſatisfy him- ſelf to know all that can be ſaid againſt it ; and if what is offered preponderates, he makes no ſcruple to change his Mind; and conſtantly, even of That Opinion which ſtuck laſt by him, he goes no farther in vindication, than that poſſibly there may be ſome other better grounded, but this is the Beſt that he - - hath 28 Of Wiſdom. Book II. hath met with. Now this Suſpenſion and Indiffe- rence I ſpeak of, is built upon ſeveral famous Maxims entertained and propagated by the Greateſt Philo- ſophers, and likewiſe upon the Freedom they uſed in their Writings and Behaviour. For this Quality muſt be confeſs'd to have been the concurrent Pračtice, and avowed Principle of Wiſe Men in all Ages; the Moſt, and moſt conſpicuous among them have made no ſcruple openly to confeſs their Ignorance, and their Doubts; ſaying, That all Nature was full of Dif. ficulties and Dilemma's ; That nothing was more certain than Uncertainty; That there was ſcarce any thing ſo plain, but an Ingenious Man might bring plauſible and al- moſt equal Arguments for Either ſide of the Queſtion; and a thouſand other ſuch Sayings; by which they remarkably argueda diſtruſt of their own Judgments. The reſt of them, though upon ſome occaſions they have proceeded ſomewhat dogmatically, and deli- vered their Minds boldly and poſitively; yet ſeem rather to have diſſembled their Doubts, than not to have had any ; and to put the beſt face they could upon the matter, that the World might ſee how far their Wit would carry them, in the Search of Truth; a Thing ‘which Learned Men ſeem rather to have fra- med an Idea of to themſelves, than to have known her as ſhe is. For after all their boaſts of attaining her , their Courage fails them at laſt, and the Things ut- tered by them they dare not venture to beſtow any more honourable Titles upon, than that of Proba- bilities, and Appearances of Truth; and while they repreſent them variouſly, ſometimes in one proſpect, and form; and ſometimes in another; by Queſtions, and Problems, and Ambiguous Diſputes; as if their deſign was rather to enquire, than to teach; and that they ſought Information themſelves, while they - . . - * * . . . . . . . º ; : " Quam Doği fingunt, magis quim nórunt, ... I I. : C pretend Ch. 2. The Second 1)iſpoſition to Wiſdom. 29 pretend to give it to others; from all this I ſay, and the whole current of their Style, we may reaſonably gather, that they wrote and ſpoke, not ſo much with a deſign to eſtabliſh a Notion, or render it un- queſtionable, as for Diverſion, and to Exerciſe their Wits; as one ſays, We cannot be ſure what their opinions were, or that they really believed their own Writings, for indeed" they ſeem not to have deſigned we ſhould gather their Senſe of things, ſo much as that we . ſhould obſerve and admire their Parts and Skill, by thoſe Trials, which the micety and difficulty of their Subject put them upon. And who can ever perſuade himſelf, that Plato intended his Republick and fanciful Ideas ſhould ever paſs for Current Doctrine; or that Pytha- goras in advancing his Numbers, and Epicurus his Atoms, ſpoke their own real Opinions, and ſuch as they thought were weighed and meaſured Truths 2 They pleaſed and entertained their own Minds with theſe nice Speculations, but t the Notions were owing more to the Fruitfulneſs of their own Inventions, than to any ſtrength of Proof, or force of Knowledge. And in- deed they may ſeem ſometimes to have gone out of the common road on purpoſe, and with great Indu- ſtry to have ſought ſomewhat of Difficulty, the bet- terto amuſe the world, by thus concealing the Vanity. of the Subjects they were upon, and ...}. ter for the gratifying their Reader's Curioſity. How wretchedly is Ariſtotle the very Idol of theſe Dogma- tiſts confounded and at a loſs? How inconſiſtent, with himſelf, and forced ſometimes to confeſs the Impotence of Human Nature, and how ſhort the moſt inquiſitive come of the Truth - Thoſe, that afterwards ſignalized themſelves by a. 6. *"Non tam id ſenſiſe quod dicerent, quâm exercere ingenia materie difficultate voluiſſe videntur. . . . . ~ : # Quæ ex ingenio finguntur, non ex Scientia wi. º * . . . ; - --- *: - more Of Wiſdom. Book II. more poſitive and magiſterial way of Writing, and from thence got the Title of Dogmatiſts, were Men of a Pedantick, and preſumptuous Temper. They, it is true, condemn and deteſt this Rule of Wiſdom; and were fonder of a Hot-headed peremptory Fellow, though contrary to their own Party and Judgment; than of a peaceable, ſedate, and modeſt Man, who contents himſelf with Doubting, and declines the pronouncing any thing definitively; that is, in plain Engliſh, they eſteem a raſh Fool, more than a Cau- tious Wife Man. (Like Women, who take it ill not to be contradićted, and had rather be anſwered rude- ly, than not at all. Becauſe they think the Cold- neſs and Indifference of Silence argues greater Con- tempt and Diſdain, than it is poſſible for the moſt injurious Language to expreſs.) In which they be- tray great perverſeneſs and injuſtice. For what rea- fon can be given, why a Man ſhould not be allowed to ſuſpend his Judgment, and ſtill to deliberate upon things as Doubtful, without venturing to affirm on either ſide ; when They at the ſame time take a pri- vilege of determining as They ſee fit? Is not there the ſame Equity at leaſt, the ſame Right for the one, as for the other? and what mighty Crime isit frankly to confeſs one's ſelf Ignorant, when he is really ſo; and to ſay nothing, when he cannot ſpeak with good Aſſurance, and full Satisfaction? * - It is certain, that all Philoſophers are agreed ſo much to our diſadvantage, as to pronounce, that weare Ignorant of a great deal more than we know; may, that our Knowledge is not comparable, not fit to be mentioned in competition with our Igno- rance. The Cauſes of which are infinite; for we may be miſtaken in the Objects of our Enquiry, by reaſon of their being too near or too diſtant; too great or too ſmall ; of too long, or too ſhort dura- tion ; and in perpetual Flux and Uncertainty. Theſe Cauſes of Error proceed from the oº:: - t; }, 31 Ch.1. The Second piſpoſition to Wiſdom. º ! judice of an Opinion, which he - • abundantly ſatisfied in already. The plain Truth º but then there are infinite. Others owing to our Selves, and our Manner of Perception; which in truth is not yet univerſally agreed upon, nor perfect- ly well underſtood. What we think our ſelves ſure of we do not really know, nor can we be ſecure of continuing in our preſent Opinion any time. For how often do we ſee freſh Arguments extort it from us? or, if our Obſtinacy will hold it faſt, in º: of all Reaſons to the Contrary; yet at they raiſe a duſt, and diſturb us in the Poſſeſſi- on of it. Now I would be glad to know, which way a man ſhall ever be capable of improving his Judgment, if he faſten himſelf down to ſome cer- tain notions; reſolving to look and examine no far- ther, nor enduring to hear any thing offered in pre- #. himſelf Men are aſham'd of this Suſpenſe I am treating of, becauſe they have a wrong Notion of it. #. lºok upon it as a Sign of Want of Judgment; whereas in reality the Greateſt and moſt judicious Philoſophers that ever lived, were the moſt frank in º: this Point. The Idea of Poſitiveneſs and Preſumpti- on hath taken ſuch faſt hold of them, and they think Dogmaticalneſs and Learning ſo inſeparable, that they are out of Countenance in any caſe to own their Ignorance, left This ſhould be thought a Reflection upon their Parts and Attainments. There is no perſuading them, that there is a ſort of Igno- rance and Doubt, more Learned, more Generous; and conſiſtent with better Aſſurance, and more ac- curate Knowledge, than all Their boaſted Science and Certainty. This gave that great renown to So- gates, and entitled him to the Charaćter of the Wi. ſt Man of his Age: This is the Fruit of Study, and deep enquiry; it is a modeſt, candid, innocent, and hearty acknowledgment, of the ſublime myſterious Nature of Truth; and the Defects and Poverty of OUIT N Of Wiſdom. Book Iſ. our own Underſtanding; ſo weak within, ſo beſet with Miſts and Darkneſs without, and from Both ſo uncertain, and unſteady in its Reſolutions. The Lord knoweth the Thoughts of Man, that they are but vain, ſays the Pſalmift : And another Author, that, * The thoughts of Mortal Men are full of Fears and Miſ- givings ; their Inventions uncertain, and all their Fore- caſts Dark and Confuſed. And I, for my own part am ſo fully poſſeſs'd of this Truth, that I have order'd this Motto, I know not : fe me ſº ty, to be engraved over the Gate of my little Houſe which I built at Condom. - : > -º Now there are a ſort of Perſons, who take it ill, that Men ſhould not ſubmit themſelves abſolutely, and fix on ſome certain Principles; which ought, they tell you, never to be examined or controverted at all. Now I allow, that if Theſe be ſuch as mani- feſt themſelves to a Man's Reaſon, they ought to be received; but that merely upon the account of their Reaſonableneſs, and not for the pompous Name of Principles. To impoſe any thing unconditionally ; is Tyranny and Uſurpation; and though upon due Conſideration, and the Approbation of my own Judgment, I allow them, yet if they will not admit me to try whether they be Sterling or Counterfeit, be- fore I take them for current Coin; this is a Condition full of Hardſhip and ſuch as I can never yield to. For who, I would fain know, hath power to give Law to our Thoughts, to enſlave our Minds, and ſet up Principles, which it ſhall not be lawful to enquire into; or admit any manner of doubt concerning them 2 I can own no ſuch Power in any but Godſ; and He hath it upon the account of his being Truth it ſelf; the Supreme Spirit, and the only Principle * . . . - tº " . . . :- - - - * . . . . . • *---------, --.… . . . . . . * * * Cogitationes mortalium timida,incertzadinventiones noſtra; & Providentia. - - *. - - - - - - - - - , ------ - - - - - * * * and | 33 Ch. 2. The Second Diſpoſition to Wiſdºm. ) ! and Source of all things: which makes it as reaſona- ble to believe Him upon his bare word, as it is, not to believe other people barely upon Theirs. For this Foundation of our Belief being One of his Incom- municable Perfections, it will unavoidably follow, that no other thing is injured or diſparaged, by our refuſing the ſame entire Reſignation to it, and chal- lenging our Right of Examining, before we yield our Aſſent. - - - If a Man requires my Belief to what are com- monly ſtiled by the Name of Principles, my Anſwer ſhall be the ſame with that of a late Prince to the ſe- veral Sečts in his Kingdom, Agree among your ſºlves firſt, and then I will give my Conſent too. Now the Controverfies are really as great about theſe Princi- ples, as they are concerning the Concluſions advanced upon them ; as many doubts upon the Generals as the Particulars; ſo that in the midſt of ſo many contending Parties, there is no coming in to any One, without giving offence, and proclaiming War upon all the reſt. * - - They tell us farther, that it is a horrid uneaſy ſtate of Mind, to be always thus upon the Float; and ne- wer coming to any ſetled Reſolution, to live in Eternal Doubt and Perplexity of Thought ; nay, that it is not only painful, but very difficult, and al- moſt impracticable, to continue long in ſuch Un- certainty. They ſpeak this, I ſuppoſe, from their own Experience; and tell us what they feel them- ſelves: But this is an Uneaſineſs peculiar to fooliſh and weak people. To the Former, becauſe Fools are preſumptuous, and paſſionate, and Violent eſpouſers, of Parties and Opinions; full of Prejudices, and ſtrong Poſſeſſions; fierce Condemneſs of all that differ from them ; never yielding—the Cataſe, nor giving out the Diſpute , though they be really con- vinced; and ſupplying the want of Reaſon by Heat. and Anger, inſtead of ingenuous *: - - - Q 34 of Wiſdom. Book H. . of their Error.If they find themſelves obliged to change their Opinion, you have them then as peremptory and furious in their new Choice, as ever they were in their firſt Principles; in ſhort, They know not what it is to maintain an Argument, without Paſſi- on ; and when they diſpute, it is not for the ſake of Truth or Improvement, but purely for Contra- dićtion, and the Laſt Word, and to aſſert their own Notions. Theſe Men I make no Scruple to call Fools; for in truth they know nothing; not ſo much as what it is to know; ſo exceeding pert and confident are they; and inſult as if they carried Truth about in their Pockets, and it was their own incommunicable Property. As for Men of Weak Judgments, and ſuch as are not able to ſtand upon their own Legs; it is very neceſſary they ſhould not be left alone, but ſeek a Support from perſons of better and more diſcerning Abilities: But Theſe are not concerned in my pre- ſent Rule; it is their Misfortune to be born to Sla- very, and out of all Capacity to enjoy the Freedom I am treating of - - - But as for Wiſe Men, who are qualified for it, Men of Modeſty and Reſerve, and prudent Candor, It is the moſt compoſed State of Mind that can be; and puts us into a Condition of Firmneſs, and Free- dom, of Stable and Uninterrupted Happineſs. “We are ſo much leſs under Conſtraint than other Men, by how much more our Minds enlarge themſelves, and the Liberty of judging is preſerved entre. This is a ſafe courſe to ſteer, and keeps us off from many dangerous Rocks and Shelves; which Warmth, and Raſhneſs, and a Poſitive conceited Humour Drives Men upon. It delivers us from the ºff. Fancy, * Hoc liberiores & ſolutiores ſumus, quia integra nobis judi- candi poteſtas manet. . . . . . . . . . . . . -- " - - - - - - - - * - - - - and - º Ch. 2. The Second1)iſpoſition to Wiſdom. 35 and Popular Miſtakes; from the Precipitation of thinking wrong at firſt, and the Shame of retract- ing when we come to think better afterwards; from Quarrels and Diſputes, and engaging in , or be- coming offenſive to Parties: For,take which ſide you pleaſe, you are ſure to have a great many againſt you; And a Zealous Eſpouſer of any Cauſe muſt unavoidably live in a conſtant State of Wrangling and War. In a Word, This Suſpenſion of the Judg- ment keeps us ſnug and under a Covert, where the Inconveniences and Calamities which affect the Pub- lick will ſeldom ſenſibly affect, and ſcarce can ever involve us; At a diſtance from thoſe Vices and vehe- ment Agitations, which ruffle and diſcompoſe firſt Men's own Minds, and then Human Society in ge- neral. For this Fierceneſs and Peremptorineſs, is at once the Spawn, and the Parent of Pride and In- ſolence ; Ambition and Wainglory, and Immode- rate Deſires; Preſumption and Diſdain ; Love of Novelty and Change ; Rebellion and Diſobedience in the State; Hereſy and Schiſm in the Church; Fačtion , and Hatred , and Contention in Both. Theſe are all of the ſame lineage and deſcent. Theſe are begun, fomented, inflamed by your Hot, and Poſitive, and Opinionative Men; not by the Mo- deſt and Doubting Men, who are cautious and ten- der, never Over-confident of themſelves, and con- tent to believe, that others are at leaſt in a poſſibility of being in the right; all which are but ſo many other Names for Wiſe, and well-temper'd Men. I will advance yet one Step farther, and venture to affirm, that the Temper of Mind I am now re- commending, is ſo far from having any ill Influence upon Piety, and Religion, that it is extremely well calculated to ſerve and promote it; whether were- gard the firſt Propagation among Unbelievers, or Preſerving a due Reverence of it, where it is already received. Divinity, and eſpecially that part of it - D 2 , which 36 | Of Wiſdom. Book II. º which is Myſterious and Revealed, tells us plainly, that the Mind muſt be cleanſed and purified,in order to receivethoſe Heavenly Truths, and the Impreſſi- ons of the Holy Spirit. That God will not inhabit Qur Souls, till all Corrupt Opinions as well as Af- fections are caſt out; for, with regard to both, we ſhall do well to underſtand thoſe Commands of Pur- ging away the old Leaven, and putting off the Old Man. From whence we may collect, that the moſt com- pendious and ſucceſsful method of planting the Chri- ſtian Religion among Infidels, would be firſt to eſta- bliſh them in the Belief of theſe following Propoſi- tions. “That all the Knowledge of this World hath “ a large embaſement of Wanity and Falſhood at- “tending it: That the Generality of Mankind are “ deluded with fantaſtical Notions, the Forgeries of “ their own Brain: That God created Man to the “End he might acquaint himſelf with the Divine “ Nature and Diſpenſations, and employ his Soul, “ and find his Happineſs in theſe noble Contempla– “tions: But that,in this decayed and declining State, “Man is not capable of diſcovering Truth by his “ own Strength: That there is conſequently a Ne- “ ceſſity of God (, who is Truth ) manifeſting it to “him : That God hath in much Mercy vouchſafed “ to do this by particular Revelations: That it is He “who inſpires Men with a Deſire of Truth, as well “ as he provides for the Gratifying that Déſire: That “ in order to diſpoſe and qualify our ſelves for being “ inſtructed in the Divine Revelations, we muſt “ abandon all worldly and carnal Opinions, and as “...it were, bring our Minds, a pure blank for God “ to write his Willin, 1. When theſe Points are gain- ed, and Men are in ſuch preparation to reſign themſelves to Truth, then it will be time to lay the foundations, and inſtil ſome of the firſt and plaineſt Principles of Chriſtianity : To ſhew them, “ That “ thºſe Doctrines came down from Heaven º: : - - - - the Ch. 2. The Second Diſpºſition to Iſſlim. 37 “ the Perſon, who vouchſafed to bring them was a “ faithful Ambaſſador, and entire Confident of “God: One who knew his whole Will exactly: * That his Authority was abundantly confirmed, by “infinite Teſtimonies, ſuch as were miraculous, ſu- ‘‘pernatural, and ſo authentick proofs, becauſe capa- “ble of coming from no other Hand but God’s on- “ly. Thus this Innocent and candid Suſpenſe and Unreſolvedneſs of Mind, would prove a happy In- ſtrument toward the creating, and firſt begetting a Knowledge and Belief of the Truth where it is not: Nor would the Efficacy of it be leſs in preſerving it, where it is planted, and hath taken root already." For ſuch a Modeſt Caution and Deference would undoubtedly prevent all manner of Singularity, and Daring Extravagance in Opinions; but to be ſure, it would abſolutely put a Stop to Hereſies and Pub- lick Diviſions. You will anſwer me perhaps, that the Temper I am deſcribing, As it is too full of In- difference to make any Hereticks, So is it too, to make any good Catholicks; and that the Danger of it is, Atlaſt degenerating into Scepticiſm, and want of Zeal for all Religions. Were the Condition of Religion the ſame in all points with That of other Notions, and Philoſophy in general, I allow . there would be force in this Obječtion. But as it is, this is not to argue from my Rules, but to pervert them. I have already ſaid, That Religion ſtands upon a firm undoubted bottom of its own. That God in this differs from all his Creatures; that what- ever He ſays is exempted from the Common Rules of Enquiry; and there can but one Queſtion lye before us, which is, Whether he hath ſaid it or no. When once this appears to us, there is no room for ſuſpending our Judgments any longer ; no pretence for Neutrality, or Liberty of Thought, nor a que- ſtioning How theſe thing can lsº Gºd cagºo: les, and we cannot err in believing Him; but for all things D 3 clie, I38 Of Wiſdom. Book II. / elſe, the more cautious and curious, and the more looſe and diſengaged we keep our Mind with regard to Them, the . and Eaſier we ſhall be. I have made a ſort of Digreſſion here, in Honour of the Rule I am recommending, that thoſe who profeſs themſelves Enemies to it may find their great Ob- jećtion obviated. In which, if I have treſpaſſed up- on my Reader's Patience, I ask his pardon : And now to our Buſineſs again. After theſe two Qualities, of Judging all things, and fixing our Minds obſtinately upon Nothing, fol- lows the Third Qualification, which is, a Largeneſs, or Univerſality of Soul. By Virtue of This the Wiſe Man caſts his Eyes, expands and ſtretches out his Thoughts over all this vaſt Univerſe; with Socra- tes becomes a Citizen of the World, and takes in all Mankind for his Neighbours and Countrey-men, Looks down, like the Sun, with an equal, ſteady, and indifferent Eye, upon the Changes and Wiciſſi- tudes here below, as things that cannot reach, nor have the power to change Him. This is the Security, the Privilege of a Wiſe Man, That which reſembles him to the Powers above, and renders him a ſort of God upon Earth. " The Mind of Man ( ſays Seneca ) is a great and generous Being, and is bounded no other- wiſe than the Divinity it ſelf. The Wiſe Man & not con- fined to the ſame narrow compaſs with the reſt of the World. No Age, mo Time, no Place limit his thoughts, but he penetrates and paſſes beyond them all. How agree- able is it to Nature for a Man to ſtretch his Mind imf- Magna & generoſa res animus humahus, nullos Tibi poni, niſi communes & cum Deo terminos patitur : Non idem ſapien- tem qui cacteros terminus includit, omnia illi ſecula ut Deo ſer- viunt. Nullum Sæculum magnis ingeniis Clauſum ; nullum non cogitationi pervium tempus. , Quam naturale in immenſum, mentem ſuam extendere? & hoc à Naturâ formatus homo ut pa- ria Diis velit, acſe in ſpatium ſuum extendat, “ . . . . - - nitrly 2 t * - Ch. 2. The Second1)iſpoſition to Wiſłom. 39 - mitely 2 For Nature hath formed him to this very purpoſe, that he ſhould emulate the Gods, and like Them fill hiſ own Infinite Space. This I confeſs is a ſort of Stoical Rant: But thus much is ſtrićtly true; That the Braveſt, and moſt capacious Souls are always moſt of this Univerſal Temper; as on the Contrary, the meaneſt and moſt incapable, are moſt cramped, have the narroweſt Notions; and are always particular in their Judgments of Men and Things, apteſt to be poſitive themſelves, and to condemn all that diſſent from them. It is in Truth great Folly and Weak- neſs, to imagine that all Nations are bound to think and ačt juſt as we do; and, that none live as they ought, who do not comply, and agree in every point with what obtains in our own little Willage or our Native Countrey: to think,that the Accidents which happen to Us, are general and in common, and muſt needs affect and extend to the whole World equally. This Senſleſs Wretch, when you tell him of Opinions, and Cuſtoms, and Laws, directly oppo- ſite to thoſe he hath been bred up in ; without more ado, condemns and expreſſes the greateſt Deteſtation of them imaginable, and rails at the people, as Rude and Uncivilized ; or elſe he gives no credit to theſe accounts, but looks upon them, as the Romantick Tales of Travellers, who take liberties of repreſent- ing Foreigners very oddly to thoſe that cannot diſ- prove them; ſo abſolutely enſlaved are his Judgment and Affections to his own Municipal Conftitutions; ſo impoſſible is it, as he thinks, that any but Theſe ſhould be true, or agreeable to Nature; and there- fore he is verily perſuaded they muſt needs, or at leaſt ſhould be Univerſal too. It is exceeding com- mon to traduce every thing with the Reproachful name of Barbariſm, that we do not fancy, or ſee frequently º: at home ; and to depend upon the Example and the Ideas of the Perſons, with whom we converſe, the Notions and the Uſage of D 4 Ol'ſ Of Wiſdom. Book Iſ.. our own Countrey, for the Teſt to diſtinguiſh Truth and Reaſon by. Now This is a mean and brutiſh de- baſement of the Soul, which we ought to get above ; and to enlarge it, by looking no longer upon this Picture of Nature in Little; but take a view of her, as ſhe is drawn at length, and in all her full propor- tions. The juſt Idea of Nature is to conſider her, as the Common Mother of us all; an Univerſal Queen , whoſe Authority and Dominion hath the ſame limits with the World, ( nay, extends to more Worlds, if (as ſome eminent perſons have thought) more Worlds there be). This would inſpire us with becoming and Great Apprehenſions of her Majeſty, and Beauty; There we ſhould behold, as in an ex- quiſite painting, a conſtant and endleſs variety of Things, and the longer we gazed, the more our Entertainment and our wonder would be. Infinite Difference in Humours, diſagreeing Judgments, Opinions, Cuſtoms and Laws; Innumerable Diſor- ders, Commotions, and Alterations in States and Kingdoms; ſurprizing turns of Fortune in the Af. fairs of private Men; a World of Victories and Triumphs buried and loſt in the Rubbiſh of Time; many Noble Entries and Proceſſions, Pomps, and Grandeurs utterly vaniſhed; and as if the Courts and Princes celebrated by them had never been at all. And by taking ſuch a proſpect as this, and ob- ſerving how ſuch different Things and Events, like Colours well mingled, conſpire to make up a gene- ral Portraicture of the World; we ſhall learn our own littleneſs, and be ſurprized at nothing; nor. eſteem things at all new or incredible; nor be over- tenacious and poſitive in vindicating our own, and condemning the Pračtice of others; ſince it is not neceſſary, or at all Eſſential to Beauty, that all who pretend to it, ſhould be of Our Complexion. And that the Darkneſs and Difference of other Nations, łike the Shades in drawing, make a more grateful º Variety; Ch. 2. The Second Diſpoſition to Wiſdom. 41 Variety; and are all agreeable and uſeful, for ſetting forth the Skill, of the Great, the Divine Artificer, whoſe Workmanſhip the Original, and the Life is. This large, brave, open, and univerſal Diſpoſition of Mind is indeed ſcarce to be found, and hard to be compaſſed; and it is not every common Man, that can aſpire to it. Nature hath not cut out all her Children for ſuch an Excellence; no more than ſhe hath qualified them all for that Wiſdom and Per- feótion it leads to. But yet there are ſeveral Conſi- derations, that may be ſerviceable in helping us to- ward it. Such is, Frff, what you find already inſiſt- ed upon in the foregoing part of this Treatiſe, con- cerning the wonderful Variety, and vaſt difference obſervable in men; according to thoſe qualities of Body and Mind, which Nature hath diſtributed ſo very unequally among them. Secondly, Thoſe Dif- ferences Men have made among themſelves, by the diſagreeing Laws, and Cuſtoms, which obtain in ſe- veral Nations; and Conſtitutions. To both which may be added the Strange Wariety of Opinions which we find the Ancients received, and delivered down to Poſterity, concerning the Age, the Condi- tion, and the Changes of the World; which yet to Us ſeem to be very Romantick and Extravagant. *The Egyptian Prieſts told Herodotus, that fince the Reign of their firſt King (from which they reckon- ed down above Eleven thouſand years, and ſhewed the Statues of Him, and all his Succeſſors, in the draughts taken from the Life) the Sun had changed his courſe four ſeveral times. The Chaldaeans in Dio- dorus his time, as He and Cicero both ſay, kept a Re- giſter and Annals, comprehending the Space of Four | "Concerning thoſe Egyptian and Aſſyrian Calculations, ſee Biſhop Pearſon ºn the Creed, Art. 1. Page 58, 59. where he plainly refute: the Account, according to the common computation of years, from their own Authºri. - hºndred B. 1. Ch. 37, 38- Of Wiſdom. Book II. hundred thouſand years. Plato tells us, that the Ci- tizens of Sais had Memorials in Manuſcript of Eight thouſand years ſtanding; and yet they owned, that the City of Athens was built a thouſand years before that of Sais. Ariffotle, and Pliny, and others, pretend. that Zoroafter lived Six thouſand years, before Plato was born: Some have advanced a Notion of the World's Exiſting from all Eternity, that it hath been deſtroyed and revived again ſeveral times, and hath, and will for ever hereafter, go through many ſuch Wiciſſitudes. Others and Thoſe ſome of the moſt renowned Philoſophers, have held the World to be a God; but yet of ſo inferior a Quality, as to de- rive its Form and preſent Being from another, and much greater God; or elſe, as Plato, and ſome others have been induced by the Motions of it, to affirm, with ſome degree of Confidence, that it is certainly an Animal, conſiſting of Body and Spirit: That the Soul or Spirit is lodged in the Centre of the Univerſe; but though its chief Reſidence be there, yet it expands it ſelf all over, to the very utmoſt parts of the Circumference, and that its Influences are conveyed and communicated in Muſical Num- bers: That the ſeveral parts of it too, thus animated and directed, as the Heaven and the Stars for in- ſtance, are made up of a Body and Soul; and theſe, though Mortal in reſpect of their compounded Na- ture, are yet Immortal by the determination of their Almighty Creator. Plato ſays, That the World puts on quite another face; that the whole Scene is ſhift- ed; that the Heaven and Stars vary ſo much in their motions, as quite to change ſides; ſo that Be- fore ſhall be Behind, and the Point which is Eaſt at one time, comes to be the Weſt at another. There hath alſo been an Opinion of great Authority, much countenanced and promoted by the moſt eminent Philoſophers, ſuitable to the Power and Majeſty of God; and grounded upon fair and probable Rea- - - ſons, | Ch.1. The Second1)iſpoſition to Wiſdom. 43 ſons, that there is a Plurality of Worlds; for we fee no other thing ſingle or ſolitary but This, if Thisbe ſo; All Species are multiplied in numbers, and therefore it is not unlikely, that God hath not left this part of his Workmanſhip quite deſolate and alone; nor exhauſted his whole power and skill in the forming of an Individual. Nay, even Divinity aſſures us, that God can make as many Worlds as he pleaſes; for upon a Suppoſition of the Contrary, we muſt affirm his Power to be but finite, becauſe this World is ſo. And That were a Notion contra- dićtory to the abſolute Perfeótion of his Nature. Let it alſo be conſidered, how much we have learnt toward the Rectifying our Notions of this kind, by the Improvement of Navigation, and the Diſcove- ries lately made of a New World in the Eaſt and Weft-Indies. For by this we are plainly convinced, that all the Ancients were in a groſs Error, when they imagined that they knew the utmoſt Extremi- ties of the Habitable World; and had comprehend- ed and delineated the whole Extent of the Earth in their Maps and Books of Coſmography, except only ſome few ſcattered remote Iſlands. And that they, were perfectly in the dark about the Antipodes; For here, all on a ſudden, ſtarts up a New World juſt like our own Old one, placed upon a large Conti- nent; inhabited, peopled, governed by Laws, and Civil Conſtitutions; canton'd out into Provinces, and Kingdoms, and Empires ; adorned and beauti- fied with noble Cities and Towns; larger, more. magnificent, more delightful, more wealthy, than any that Aſia, Africa, or Europe can ſhew ; and ſuch they have been ſome thouſands of Years. And have we not reaſon from hence to preſume, that Time will hereafter make freſh diſcoveries of other Lands. yet unknown 2 If Ptolomy, and the Ancient Writers were miſtaken in their accounts heretofore, I would be very glad to know , what better Security Nº. - - - - - all 44 Of Wiſdom. Book II. Man can have of being in the right, who pretends that all is found out, and fully diſcovered now 2. If any man ſhall take the Confidence to be poſitive in this point, I ſhall take my liberty in believing him. Secondly, We find the Zones, which were look'd on as uninhabitable, are very plentifully peo- pled. Thirdly, We find by cyperience, that the things which we profeſs to value ourſelves moſt up- on, and pretend to have had the earlieſt Intelligence of, have been received and pračtiſed in . diſcovered Countries for a long time, and perhaps' as ſoon and as long as we our ſelves have obſerved, or had notice of them. I do not pretend to deter- mine whence they had it. And that, whether we regard Religious Matters, and ſuch as come to us by Revelation from Heaven; as for Inſtance, the Be- lief of One Single Man at firſt, the Univerſal Pro- genitor of all Mankind; the Univerſal Deluge; of a God that lived in human fleſh, and took the Sub- ſtance of a pure and holy Virgin; of a Day of Gé- neral Judgment; of the Reſurrečtion of the Dead;’ the Obſervation of Solemn Faſts; the Ornaments, of thoſe that miniſter in Holy things; the Surplice' and the Mitre particularly ; the Reſpect paid to the , Croſs; Circumciſion like that of the feins and Ma- hometans; and Counter-Circumciſion, which makes it a point of Religion, to prevent all appearance of any ſuch thing upon their Bodies: Or, whether we' regard Civil Conſtitutions; as That of the Eldeſt Son inheriting his Father's Eſtate; Patent Honours. taking new Names, and Titles, and laying down that of their Families; Subſidies to Princes; Armo- ries, and Fortifications: Diverſions of Players and’ Mountebanks; Muſical Inſtruments, and all kinds of Diverſion, in uſe in theſe parts of the World ; Artillery, and Printing. From all which it is very. natural to deduce theſe following Inferences. That this huge Body, which we call the World, is very different Ch. 2. The Second 1)iſpoſition to Wiſdom. 45 different from the common Apprehenſions of Men concerning it. That it is not at all times, and in all places the ſame; but hath its Tides, its Ebbings and Flowings in perpetual Succeſſion: That there is no- thing ſo confidently aſſerted and believed in one place, but is as generally received, as peremptorily \ maintained, nay, as fiercely contradicted and con- demned in another. And that the Original of all this, whether Agreement, or Difference, is to be re- ſolved at laſt into the Nature of Man's Mind, which is ſuſceptible of Ideas of all ſorts: And that the World being in perpetual Motion, is ſometimes at greater, and ſometimes in leſs Agreement with it ſelf, in the ſeveral parts of it. That all things are comprehended within the general Courſe of Nature, and ſubject to the Great Director of Univerſal Na- ture; and that they ſpring up, are alter'd, decay, and are aboliſhed, according as He in his Wiſdom thinks fit to vary them, by the Change put upon Sea- ſons and Ages, Countries and Places, the Air, the Climate, the Soil, in which Men are born, and bred, and dwell. And laſtly, That, as our Predeceſſors were but Men, ſo We are no more; and ſince the Errors in Their Judgment of Things are manifeſt, this ſhould teach Us to diſtruſt and ſuſpect our own. And when Theſe Inferences are juſtly made, the Re- ſult of them muſt needs be, to be inſeparably wed- ded to no Opinion, to eſpouſe none of our Argu- ments and Speculations too eagerly; to be aſtoniſhed at nothing, though never ſo unuſual; not to loſe our Temper upon any. Accident; But, whatever happens, or how violent ſoever the Storm may be, to fix upon this Reſolution, and ſatisfy our ſelves in it; That it is but according to the Courſe of Na- tnre; and that He who governs the World works as he pleaſes; and proceeds by the Rules of his own Wiſdom ; and therefore all we have to do, is to take a prudent Care, that nothing may hurt us - * through 46. Of Wiſdom. Book II. through our own Weakneſs, or Inconſideration, or Dejećtion of Spirit. - * * Thus much i thought ſufficient and indeed neceſ. ſary to be ſaid upon this perfect Liberty of Judg- ment, conſiſting of the Three Particulars ſo largely inſiſted on. And indeed ſo largely, by reaſon I am ſenſible, it is not ſuited to the Palate of the World; but denounces War againſt Pedants, and poſitive Pretenders; which are all of them Enemies to true Wiſdom, as well as to this Principle of Mine. The Advantages whereof have been ſufficiently re- preſented already, the Miſchiefs it prevents, and the Tranquility it brings. This was the particular Cha- raēter of Socrates, that Father and Chief of the Philoſophers, and univerſally acknowledged as ſuch: By This, (as Plutarch ſays, } though he had no Off- ſpring of his own, yet he managed others ſo, as to make Them fruitful, jū; their Produćti- ons into the World. This Temper is in ſome ſenſe like that Ataraxis, which Pyrrho's Sceptical Followers called the Supreme Happineſs of Man: But if that reſemblance be a little over-ſtrained, yet it may ve- ry well bear being compared to the Neutrality and Indifference, which the Sečt of the Academicks pro- feſſed. And the Natural Effect of ſuch a Temper is to be diſcompoſed or aſtoniſhed at nothing; which Pythagoras thought the Sovereign Good, and Ariſtotle called the True Greatneſs of §. So Horace; "Not to Admire, as moſt are wont to do, - It is the only Method that I know, - - - M- To make Men happy, and to keep them ſo. - Creech. * Nil admirari prope res eſt uń Numici, - Solaque quae poſſit facere & ſervare beatum. - Horat. Epiff. 6. L. 1. | And Ch.1. The Second1)iſpoſition to Wiſdom. 47. And is it not a moſt amazing perverſeneſs that Men cannot be prevailed with to make the Experiment; nay, that they ſhould not bear to have it ſo much as recommended or mentioned; but prefer Slavery and Dependance , before living upon their own Stock, getting above Fortune, and making them- ſelves eaſy and Maſters at all times, and places, and upon all Accidents alike 2 May we not moſt juſtly cry out with Tiberius, more juſtly indeed than He did, (O Wretches, born to be Slaves!) How abſurd is it, that we, who are ſuch Patrons, and Sticklers for Li- berty in the Caſe of our Bodies, Eſtates, and all other Properties, ſhould not bear to have our Mind free, which after all is the only Free-born thing, that .# to any of us? We ſeek and employ con- veniences fetch'd from all parts of the World, count no expence too great, for the Health, the Service, the Ornament of the Body; but grudge every thing for the improvement and enriching of the Mind. In ſhort, We are ſo partial, as to take all poſſible pains, that the Body may be at large, while the Soul is fettered, and coop'dupin Priſon. The other Branch of this Liberty, in which the Will is concerned, is of yet greater value, and ought to be more endeavour'd aft by a Wiſe Man, as indeed it is more ſerviceable to him, than the for- mer. Now here I think it neceſſary to admoniſh my Reader, that the Matter under our preſent Con- ſideration, is not that Faculty and Privilege of Hu- man Nature, which Philoſophers and Divines com- monly ſtile Free-Will, nor ſhall we treat of it in the ſame Method with Them: But my meaning is, That a Wife Man ought to preſerve his own Eaſe and Quiet, to keep his Will and Affections free and diſengaged; and to lay them out upon very few ob- jećts; and thoſe ſuch as may juſtify his Choice; (For indeed the things that deſerve our Choice and challenge our Affections, if nicely examined, will be 7. Liberty of the Will. 48 Of Wiſdom. * * Book II. befound but very few.) But this is not all; For even Thoſe, that deſerve them beſt, "will not juſtify our Wehemence, and Eagerneſs, and immoderate Fond- neſs of them. And here I find my ſelf under ſome neceſſity of encountring two very popular and plau- fible Opinions. The One is That which teaches us to be always forward to ſerve other people; to lay aſide all thoughts of one's ſelf, for the ſake of our Neighbours; and eſpecially, when the Publick Good is concerned, pretends that no private Intereſt ought to: come in Competition with it; And the Other prompts us to eſpouſe ſuch Matters with all poſſible Zeal, and to the very utmoſt of our power. He that declines the Former , is accuſed of wanting Good nature, and a publick Spirit; and He that is remiſs in the Latter, is ſuſpected of Coldneſs and In- difference; want of Generoſity, and the Zeal that is required of a Good Man, and in ſhort, reputed incapable of making a Friend. Now whatever there may really be at the bottom of theſe Opinions, yet it is plain, the World have overloaded the Founda- tion, and built ſuch Notions upon it, as exceed all Reaſon and Meaſure; and nothing can be more Romantick and Extravagant, than what we find de- livered upon theſe Occaſions. For our Governors, who feel the Advantage of them, oftentimes infuſe Principles into us, not according to the true merits of the Cauſe, but in proportion as they perceive they may prove ſerviceable and beneficial : "And it fre- quently falls out, that thoſe Opinions, which are in themſelves moſt reaſonable and true, are not moſt convenient to be generally entertained. And beſides this, Obſerving how natural the Love of our Selves and our own private Advantage is, and what Partia- lities and unreaſonable Exceſſes it is apt to carry us into, they thought it neceſſary to divert and draw us off is far from This as poſſibly; and ſo took the Common Courſe of bending the Crooked Stick the - Contrary Ch. 2. The Second Diſpoſition to Wiſdom. 49 Contrary way, that it might at laſt ſtand ſtrait by being forced toward the other Extreme. But Theſe Opinions, when miſunderſtood, and miſapplied, (which is commonly the Fate of moſt Opinions, when they fall into the hands of a Mul- titude ) occaſion great Injuſtice, and Diſorder, ma- ny Difficulties, and grievous Miſchiefs. As we may plainly obſerve in thoſe perſons, that ſnap at every bait of this kind; let themſelves out to hire as it were ; and devote all their Time and Pains to the ſervice of other people. Theſe men do not only ſuffer themſelves to be managed, and taken abſo- lute Poſſeſſion of by their Friends; but they thruſt themſelves forward of their own accord, and will have an Oar in every Boat: It is indifferent to Them, whether the Matter concerns them, or not; whether it be of great conſequence, or of none at all; ſtill they Intereſs themſelves in all alike; for in- ūeed they often do it merely to keep themſelves in Motion and Employment; It ſtirs their Spirits, puts their Soul into a pleaſing ſort of Agitation; and thus * they are buſy purely becauſe they love to be ſo. They cannot bear the having nothing to do; nor can they confine their Thoughts to their own Affairs; but ei- ther do not ſee, or careleſly overlook them: and ſo ſeek Employment abroad, and meddle and turn un- dertakers in things that are foreign and diſtant, as if they had nothing at all to do at home ; no con- cerns that are eſſential and neceſſary to be followed; no perſonal, no domeſtick Cares, that lye upon their hands; ſuch as ought to be firſt diſpatched; and which, if duly attended to, would leave no room for Sloth, nor leiſure ſo great, as ſhould prove a Temptation to us, to turn Managers for other peo- ple, that we may keep our ſelves in A&ion. Many * In Negotioſunt negotij causã. F. of 8, 5 o Of Wiſdom. Book II. of theſe perſons are good husbands of their purſe, and careful not to part with a Penny of Money, but upon valuable Conſiderations; but they are un- reaſonably prodigal of their Soul, their Life; ſquan- der away their Time and their Pains, their Affecti- ons and their Will, moſt profuſely and unaccounta- bly; dedicate Themſelves and all their Powers, to any occaſion that calls for their Aſſiſtance; And yet when all is done, Theſe are the valuable Trea- ſures, of which we ought to be exceeding choice and ſparing; and in ſuch Inſtances it is chiefly, that Frugality and good Management are commendable. But alas! the Perſons we ſpeak of are ſo far from this, that they glory in their Extravagance; act all with ſuch Violence, and Paſſion, that they are loſt to Reaſon and common Senſe ; and never think . do enough, till they have engaged as deep as is poſ- ſible; and given up their Perſons, and their Wits both, to the Cauſe they eſpouſe. Great Men make their Advantage of ſuch Tempers as theſe; Men that will be eager, and angry, and expoſe, nay loſe their lives upon pretences of Friendſhip, and Pun- &tilio's of Honour and Reſpect, are ſpecial Tools for Their purpoſe. And they are not wanting to countenance and careſs them, throw out large Pro- miſes, and uſe a thouſand little Stratagems to draw them in, and fix them to their Party; But though Fools believe and are caught by them, yet Wiſe Men know this is all Trick and Deſign ; that there is Deceit in the Bait, and Death upon the Hook ; and that all their fair Carriage and large Promiſes are deſigned not at all to ſerve Us, but to ſerve themſelves of us. - Now, Firſt of all, This Temper we have been deſcribing, puts all into confuſion, expoſes the Mind to perpetual uneaſineſs, and brings it into a State of abſolute Slavery. It argues ignorance of that, which every one ought to know, and that is, how much he : s: Ch. 2. The Second Tiſpoſition to Wiſdom. 5 : he owes to himſelf, and what the Obligations are, and the Offices ariſing from them, which are firſt and ſtrićtly due at home. All which theſe perſons violate; for while they are ſo mighty officious, and liberal in the ſervice of other people, they injure and defraud themſelves; and ſ: that Stock of Eaſe and Comfort, which is their own due, and ought to be preſerved. Beſides; if we deſire Buſi- neſs, Providence hath cut us out enough of our own ; let us but look at home, and #4. the Duty of our reſpective Stations diligently ; but eſpe- cially, let us but look within ; and we ſhall be far from finding any occaſion to ask for work of our Neighbours: The difficulty will then be to diſpatch that which they ask of Us ; and inſtead of laying our ſelves out upon every bodies buſineſs beſides, we ſhall then find our hands full, and a neceſſity of keeping cloſe to our own. He that takes care to live as becomes his Wirtue and his Honour; ſo as may preſerve his health, and give him a contented and cheerful Enjoyment of the World, hath enough to do ; and He that neglects or impairs any of theſe, merely to do another ſervice, is ill adviſed; and un- der colour of Good-nature to his Friend, is guilty of great Injuſtice and Ill-nature to himſelf. To oblige and aſſiſt others, ſo far as may be conſiſtent with the ſecuring theſe things to our ſelves, is ſufficient; but to go beyond that, is to break our Duty in one par- ticular, while we ſupererogate in another. He is an unreaſonable Man, that expects one ſhould ſacri- fice his Virtue, or his Happineſs to him; and He is a very fooliſh Man, that will do it, if it be expect- ed. And therefore I repeat again a Direétion given juſt now, That a Man ought to eſpouſe and devote himſelf to but very few things; and to take care that theſe be ſuch, as will juſtify the ſetting his heart upon them; and They, to be ſure, can be but very few. , E. z. Secondly, 52 Of Wiſdom. Book II. IQ. Secondly, This Eagerneſs of Intention and vehe- ment concern is not only unfit and unjuſt in other reſpects, but it is alſo an Inconvenience to it ſelf. For it puts Men beſide their meaſures, and proves the greateſt hindrance and perplexity that can be, to that very Undertaking, which we are ſo impatient to accompliſh, and have ſet our hearts ſo much upon. As, when we ſtrive to go exceeding faſt, our legs ſink under us, or ſtep awry, or interfere, and ſtop one another. "The very Swiftneſs of the Pace confounds it ſelf, ſo that even Haft breeds delay. And he that begins too faſt is ſloweſt in finiſhing. Thus it is likewiſe with the Mind of a Man, when Intoxicated with this forward and furious vehemence of Intention ; he confounds and hampers himſelf; betrays himſelf to Indiſcretion and Injuſtice in his proceedings; ren- ders himſelf ſuſpećted, and hardly thought of, gives offence and ground of Reſentment to others; and puts his own Mind upon a perpetual Fret and Fer- ment; as oft as any thing happens, that either de- feats or delays the Succeſs he is labouring after. † Heat and Violence never manage any thing well. We may obſerve it daily, what Advantages men loſe, and how great an injury they do to themſelves, their Buſineſs, the Cauſe and Party they eſpouſe, by this want of Temper; even to the ruin of the faireft and moſt promiſing Expectations, in matters of the greateſt Importance. And the thing is no leſs evident too, in the moſt common and inſignifi- cant cafes. In a matter ſo frivolous as Play, for in- ſtance, where He that is eagereſt and moſt intent - - wº i - upon Winning, breaks the rules and proper methods, overlooks the advantages of the Game, and contri- * Ipſa ſevelocitas implicat, unde Feſtinatio tarda eſt. Quini- mium properat ſerius abſolvit. f Male cunčta miniſtrat — Impetus. butes Ch. 2. The Second1)iſpoſition to W/dom. 53 butes to his own Loſs. Whereas an Adverſary that plays calmly and ſedately, hath always his Eyes and his Wits about him; his Paſſion never tranſports his Reaſon; but he makes the beſt of every Chance, and does not only enjoy the Diverſion, but bid fair. eſt for the Succeſs. He makes his Feints, and Dou- bles; and lays hold on every favourable occaſion; if he fail of his deſign, he bears it with Moderation, and makes it up another time; is always ready to obſerve and to improve every Change of Fortune; and by jogging on leiſurely, and keeping the Reins in his own hand, comes ſooneſt and ſafeſt to his Journey’s End. - This leads us to a Third Remark of very great Conſequence, which is, that this vehement and ea- ger Zeal infects the Mind, and corrupts the Judg- ment. For while Men are addicted to one Perſon or Party, and wholly ſet upon promoting Their Ad- vantage, they go furiouſly to work, and ſtrain eve- ry thing beyond its due pitch. They extol their Fa- vourites and Partners in the ſame Cauſe with unde- ſerved Commendations; and load their Adverſaries with odious Charaćters, and falſe Accuſations; turn Superſtitious to the laſt degree; and interpret every Event as ominous, and a Prognoſtication of Good in favour of themſelves and Friends; and a plain de- claration of Providence, againſt thoſe that are enga- ged in oppoſition to them. Nay, they carry this Folly ſo far, as not to ſee or allow any Virtue or Good quality in their Adverſaries; repreſent them as Wi- cious and Willains, and would have us believe, that all who think, and act, and deſign otherwiſe, than They themſelves do, muſt be either Knaves, or Fools, and Madmen; and thoſe who are more juſt and moderate in their Sentiments, that obſerve any real Virtues, and give due Praiſes to thoſe that differ from them, are preſently ſuſpected to be of the ſame Party and Principle; merely for their Charity in E 3 vindi- II. 54 Of Wiſdom. Book II. vindicating or excuſing, and not running into the ſame Exceſſes of Partiality and Prejudice, the ſame unreaſonable Cenſures and Condemnations , with theſe hot-headed Zealots. Whereas indeed nothing can be more extravagant, than to imagine that a Man who is not one of Us cannot poſſibly be a Good Man; and that he may not, for the main, or at leaſt in ſome caſes where the Point in difference is no way concerned, be very honeſt and commen- dable, though it be his unhappineſs, to be under a wrong perſuaſion, and in ſome particulars embarqued in the Intereſt or Opinions .# thoſe who are very naughty Men. That Paſſion ſhould commit a vio- lence upon the Will, is but too much ; but that it ſhould debauch and blind the Judgment, and deſtroy Charity and common Senſe, is abominable, and not to be endured. And Men ſhould by all means think themſelves obliged to proceed with Equity and Candor; to ſee and to acknowledge Goodneſs, whereever it is to be found, though in the worſt and moſt miſtaken Enemies; and not to palliate, or overlook, much leſs to defend and applaud the Vices and Follies of our Friends and Followers; but to lay aſide all private Confiderations, and frankly to expreſs our Deteſtation of theſe things, let the per- ſons guilty of them be who, or what they will. The contrary wicked pračtice (for a very wicked one it is ) ſeems to proceed in great meaſure from want of conſidering and diſtinguiſhing aright, what the Points in difference are , and how far they ex- tend. For it is moſt certain, that where the Con- troverſy is no way concerned, we ought to behave our ſelves with all manner of Indifference; and paſs fair and equitable Judgments, as we would do, ſuppoſing no Diſpute or Diſagreement at all. And Reſentments ſhould never be carried beyond that particular Subjećt which provokes them ; nor An- ger, of all Paſions, ſuffered to grow general and - - - - unlimited. . . . . Ch. 2. The Second 1)iſpoſition to Wiſłom. 55 unlimited. And Theſe are ſome of the many Evils, which too great Eagerneſs and Intention of Mind naturally brings upon Men, let the Matter we ſet our hearts ſo much upon, be what it will; for this Diſpoſition is capable of Exceſs, and liable to In- conveniences, when fixed upon the very beſt Ob- jećt ; and a Man may ſuffer by being too vehement and hot, in the purſuit even of Goodneſs and Wiſ. dom it ſelf. Now in order to moderate this Affectionate Far- neſtneſs, and reduce the Mind to due Temper; eve- ry Man ought to remember, that the moſt impor- tant thing given us in charge by God and Nature, that to which we have the ſtrongeſt Obligations, and conſequently ſuch as ought to be firſt ſatisfied, is, That Every Man ſhould look well to his con- duct: This good management of our ſelves is the very buſineſs upon which we were ſent into the World at firſt, and are continued in it ſtill. And this Duty we do by no means diſcharge faithfully, except the Peace, and Tranquility, and Liberty of our Minds be conſulted and preſerved. And preſer- ved theſe cannot be, unleſs we make it our Princi- ple and Rule, to Lend our ſelves to a Friend, but to Give our ſelves up to none but our ſelves ; to take buſineſs in hand, but not to lay it to heart; to bear it as a burden, and be content with ſuſtaining the weight of it upon our ſhoulders, but not to incor- porate and unite with it, by making it inſeparable and a part of our ſelves; to beſtow all poſſible Di- ligence, but not to miſplace and throw away our Affections, upon it ; to faſten eagerly upon very few things, and to ſtick to them only ſo, as ſtill to continue at our own diſpoſal, and be diſen aged eaſily, and at our pleaſure. This is the true, the ſo- vereign Remedy, againſt all the Inconveniences and Uneaſineſſes formerly mentioned ; and this is not any ſuch ſelfiſh or narrow-ſpirited advice, as ſome - E 4 n:ay I2. 56 Of Wiſdom. Book II. may imagine. It does not condemn or exclude any of thoſe Duties or good Offices required from us; it does no prejudice to the Publick, our Friends, or our Neighbours; ſo far from That, that it is moſt certain We are bound by all the Tyes of Honour and Religion, to be courteous and kind, aſſiſting and ſerviceable to one another; to comply with the Cuſtoms and Occaſions of the World, and apply our ſelves to the obſervance of the one, and the Supply of the other, as our Circumſtances will per- mit; and in order hereunto, every man is obliged to contribute to the Common Good; and conſcienti- ouſly to perform all thoſe Duties and mutual Offices, which any way concern him, as a Member of the Body Politick, and may conduce to the Benefit of Human Society. . " He that is a Friend to himſelf, is a Friend to all Mankind; for the Love and Care of one's ſelf is ſo far from engroſſing , and confining all we can do to our own ſingle perſons; that it im- plies, and puts us upon the being as univerſally be- neficial, and diffuſing our Powers, as far and wide as we can. But ſtill, I muſt inſiſt upon it, that the moſt generous Inclinations and Endeavours of this kind ought to be tempered with Moderation and Prudence ; and no Man is publick-ſpirited as he ſhould be, unleſs he be diſcreet withal; and That in theſe Two reſpects particularly. Firſt, Not to ap- ply, or lay himſelf out upon every occaſion that offers indifferently; but firſt to fit down, and con- ſider well the Juſtice, the Reaſonableneſs, and the Neceſſity of the thing; whether it will anſwer his deſign, and be worth his pains. And if this were done, a world of trouble might be ſpared. Then Secondly, That even thoſe occaſions, which have the beſt Title to his Application, may be followed * Quiſbi amicus eſt, hunc omnibus ſcito eſſe amicum. without * Ch. 2. The Second Diſpoſition to Wiſdom. 57 without Violence and Wexation of Mind:#&A Man = ſhould contract his Deſires, and bring them within : as ſmall a Compaſs as he can ; The Little he does s deſire, ſhould be purſued with Temper, and be de- s fired moderately; His application ſhould be free =from Anxiety, and Diſtraction: And in any themoſt : Important Matters that we undertake, we may be = allowed to employ our Hands, our Feet, our Tongue, s the Attention of our Thoughts, the Sweat of our = Brows, all proper means in order to the effecting s them, nay, to ſpend our Blood, and hazard our - Lives, if the occaſion require it; but ſtill all this is -to be done with a Reſerve; calmly and conſiderate- sly, without Paſſion and Torment; without Fret- =fulneſs and Impatience. A Man muſt always pre- ſerve the Government and Command of himſelf; the Health of his Body, the Soundneſs of his Mind, the Tranquility, and Eaſe of both, ſo far as is poſ- fible. For Succeſs does by no means depend upon Heat, and Forwardneſs, and an Impetuous Eager- neſs of the Will; but is much oftner and better at- tained without it; and the Cooler our proceedings are, the greater Expectations we may entertain from them. It is a vulgar and a very groſs Miſtake, that no Affair is undertaken heartily and to purpoſe, without a great deal of Noiſe, and Hurry, and Buſtle. For, as I have already ſhewed, theſe only diſorder and perplex the Cauſe ; put Men beſide their Byaſs, and are ſo many freſh Obſtrućtions. How common a thing is it to obſerve vaſt numbers of Men, who venture their perſons in the Wars, and are in daily, hourly peril of their Lives; with- out any anxious Concern at all; they march up to the Cannon's mouth when their Poſt requires it, and puſh on to Aétion, and yet neither the Hazard, nor the Loſs of the Battels they fight, ever breaks them one Night's reſt; They conſider, This is their Duty, and upon that Conſideration they diſcharge 1t – 58 I 3- Of Wiſdom. Book II. it chearfully. And yet at the ſame time that you ſee the Camp and the Field ſo eaſy, and void of Care; a Splenetick Politician, who never had the Courage to look Danger in the Face, ſhall fit you at home, and teaze and afflićt himſelf with the Event of this Engagement; and be a thouſand times more perplexed and mortified with any ill Succeſs, than thoſe very Soldiers, who ſpend their Blood, and ſtake down their Lives, in the Service. In a word; We muſt learn to underſtand our ſelves, and our Condition; and diſtinguiſh aright, between our private and perſonal, and our publick Capacities. For every one of us is under a double Charaćter, and hath two parts to play. The one external, and viſible, but ſomewhat foreign and di- ſtant; the other domeſtick, and proper, and eſſen- tial to us. Now though our Shirt be next to our Skin, yet according to the Proverb, we ſhould al- ways remember, that how near ſoever our Shirt may be, our Skin is ſtill nearer to us. A Judicious per- ſon will diſcharge his Duty to the Publick, and fill an Office well; and yet at the ſame time will diſcern the Folly, and Wickedneſs, and Cheat, which a Publick Station expoſes him to the pračticé of He will not decline the thing; becauſe it is agreeable to the Cuſtom and Conſtitution of his Countrey; it is neceſſary and uſeful to the Publick, and perhaps advantagious to himſelf. He will ſubmit in many things to do as the World does, becauſe the Reſt of Mankind live at the ſame rate; and ſince he cannot mend the World, it is to no purpoſe to diſturb it, by being fingular. But ſtill he will look upon this, as a matter ſomewhat foreign , and conſider this Character as adventitious and accidental, not natu- ral to him ; it is what he is obliged to put on, and appear in ; but he was not born with it, nor is it a part of him. And therefore he will always exerciſe it with all due Limitations and Reſervations; and m 1) Ot Ch. 3. Integrity the Firſt Part of Wiſdom. 59 not ſo embark in Buſineſs, as to be quite ſwallowed up in it; but manage Matters ſo, that he may ſtill enjoy himſelf; and be free and eaſy with a parti- cular Friend; or at leaſt, within his own Breaſt; not ſo ſerve the World, as to neglect, and be out of a Condition to ſerve himſelf; nor endeavour the Be- nefit of others, at the Expence or Loſs of a Good, that is truly and properly his own. C H A P. III. True and Subſtantial Integrity of Mind, the firſt and fundamental part of Wiſdom. HE Direétions laid down in the two foregoing Chapters, being ſuch Preparations, as were thought neceſſary for diſpoſing aright, the perſon who aſpires after Wiſdom, and qualifying him to make ſucceſsful progreſs in it; That is, By remo- ving the Obſtructions, and clearing his Mind of Pre- judices; and ſetting it at large from the Slavery and Confinement of Popular Opinions, and private Paſ- ſions: and alſo by advancing to that noble and happy Freedom of Thought and Will already deſcri- bed; that from hence, as from ſome advantagious riſing ground, he may take a full proſpect, and arrive at a clear and diſtinét Knowledge, and attain to an abſolute Maſtery, over all the Objećts and Things that occur to him here below ; (which is the peculiar Charaćter and Privilege of an exalted and refined Soul; ) It may now be ſeaſonable to ad- vance in the Method propoſed at our Entrance into this Book; by giving ſome fit Inſtructions and gene- ral Rules of Wiſdom. The Two Firſt whereof, ñ ; - . . - - - - - l I. 6o Of Wiſdom. Book II. ſtill but in the nature of Prefaces to the Main Work; neceſſary to be laid in the Quality of Foundations, upon which to raiſe this Glorious Superſtructure. And the Former and Principal of theſe two, deſign- ed for the Subjećt of This Chapter, is Probity, and Sincerity. That true Honeſty and Integrity of Heart and Life is the Firſt, the Chief, the Fundamental Point of True Wiſdom, is an Aſſertion, which it may per- haps be thought needleſs for me to give myſelf any great trouble in proving. For in truth, all Mankind agree in highly extolling, and zealouſly pretending to it; (though it is but too manifeſt, that what ſome do in this kind ſeriouſly, and out of Conſcientious regard to their Duty, and the real Worth of this Wir- tue; others put on only, to ſet the beſt face upon the matter; and are compelled to diſſemble from Shame, and Fear, and the Ill-conſequences of avowing the contrary.) Thus far then the whole World is agreed; that Honeſty is recommended, and reſpected, and at leaſt complimented; every Man profeſſes to be paſſionately in love with it , and ſubſcribes himſelf its moſt Faithful, moſt Affectionate, and moſt Devc- ted Servant. So that I may ſpare my ſelf the pains of arguing in behalf of the Thing in general; but I am afraid notwithſtanding, it will prove no ſuch eaſy matter to make Men agree with the Notions of that, which in my eſteem is the True and Eſſential Honeſty, and to perſuade the as univerſal Love, but eſpecially the univerſal practice of That, which I think neceſſary upon this occaſion. For as to That, which is in common vogue, and uſually reputed ſuch; though the World I know are generally ſatis- fied, and trouble themſelves ſo little about under- ſtanding or attaining to any thing better, that { ex- cept a very few Wife Men,) they have no Ideas, no Wiſhes beyond this; yet I make no difficulty to af. firm, that it is all but a ſpurious and counterfeit Virtue; Ch. 3. Integrity the Firſt Part of Wiſdom. 61 Virtue; Sham and Trick; and the produćt of Art and Study, Falihood and Diſguiſe. Now firſt of all, We cannot but be ſenſible, that Men are very often drawn on, and puſht forward to good Aétions by ſeveral ſorts of Motives. Some- times ſuch as are by no means commendable; As Natural Defects, and Infirmities, Paſſion and Fancy, nay ſometimes by Vice, and Things in their own Nature Sinful. Thus Chaſtity, and Sobriety, and Temperance of all ſorts, may be, and often are, owing to a weak Body, and tender Conſtitution, which cannot ſupport Exceſs. Contempt of Death, to Peeviſhneſs and Diſcontent; Patience under Miſ- fortunes, Reſolution and Preſence of Thought in Dangers, to Want of Apprehenſion and Judgment, and a due ſenſe, how great or imminent the Dan- ger is. Valour, and Liberality, and Juſtice, are often inſpired and practiſed by Ambition and Wain- glory; the Effects of good Conduct, diſcreet Ma- nagement, of Fear, and Shame, and Avarice. And what a World of renowned and noble Exploits have been owing to Preſumption and Foolhardineſs; Raſhneſs and Inconſideration? Thus, what we com- monly call Actions and Inſtances of Virtue, are in reality no better than Masks, and counterfeit Ap- pearances of it: They have the Air and the Com- plexion, but by no means the Subſtance of it. So much reſemblance there is, that the Vulgar, who are no Criticks in Faces, may eaſily miſtake the one for the other; and ſo much of good there is in the Effects and Conſequences of ſuch Aétions, that other people may be allowed to call them Virtuous; but it is impoſſible the perſon himſelf who does them, ſhould eſteem them ſuch; or that any conſi- dering Man can either allow them this Charaćter, when nicely examined; or think one jot the bet- ter of the Man that does them. For Intereſt, or Honour, or Reputation, or Cuſtom and Compliance, Or 2. Falſe Ap- pearances of it. 61 Of Wiſdom. Book II. or ſome other Cauſes altogether foreign to Virtue, will be found at the bottom ; and however beautiful the Front may be, the Foundation is rotten and ſtark naught. Sometimes very great and ſurprizing things are the Reſult of nothing better, than mere Stupidity and Brutiſhneſs; which gave occaſion for that Reflection, That Wiſdom and Inſenſibility met together in the ſame Point, and both of them felt and hardened themſelves alike under Accidents and Misfortunes. From all which, and a great deal more, that might be ſaid, it appears, how exceeding dangerous and uncertain a method thoſe men take, who look no further than the outward Face of things, and from the actions, as we ſee them, form a peremptory Judgment of the Probity, or the Diſingenuity of the Perſon. Whereas, for a right underſtanding of this matter, we ought to take a diſtinét view of the In- ſide; examine the whole Movement; and mark well what Springs they are, that ſet it on going. For it often happens, that very ill men do very good, and commendable, and beneficial Aétions: And both Good and Bad men reſtrain themſelves, and avoid Evil; but though both abſtain alike, yet they do it out of very different Principles, as Horace hath obſerved pertinently enough to this purpoſe, * So Crafty Foxes dread the ſecret ſhare ; The Kite and Hawk, although the Bait be fair, Yet never Stoop, where they Suſpect a Gim. The Good for Virtue’s Sake abhor a Sin; 'Tis fear of Puniſhment reſtrains Thy Will. Give leave; How eagerly would? Thou be ill? M Horace by Creech. "Cautus enim metuit foveam Lupus Accipiterque Suſpećtos laqueos, & opertum Milvius humum. Oderunt peccare Boni Virtutis amore, Tu nihil admittes in Te formidine poenae; . . - Sit Spes fallendi, miſcebis Sacra profanis. Hor.Epiſt.xvi L. f. To Ch. 3. Integrity the Firſt Part of Wiſdom. 63 To make a juſt diſcovery of the Man, and inform our Selves, what is Honeſty and Sincerity indeed, the Aétions are too weak an Evidence, and he that goes no farther, can know nothing. Theſe are on- ly the groſs Subſtance, a Copy of his Countenance, and the Counterfeit Luftre of a Falſe Stone; The Jewel cannot be diſtinguiſhed with ſo ſuperficial a view ; it is not enough, to hear the Sound, we muſt judge the Harmony, and know what Hand it is, that moves the Strings. For the Motive and Cauſe is the Life, and Soul of all, and gives both Being and Denomination to the whole Aëtion. This is the only Mark we have to judge by ; and every Man is chiefly concerned to take care that This be pure, and good, and in every regard what it ought to be. All which depends upon the Uprightneſs of the Intention, and Unblemiſh'd Honeſty of the Heart; and that is the very Quality we are now looking after. That Integrity, which paſſes in common Eſtima- tion for the True, and is generally recommended and extolled, and which indeed is all, that thoſe who have the Character and Commendation of Juſt, and Honeſt, and Fair-dealing men pretend to, is at the beſt but a mean, and formal, and pedantick Virtue : Such as is a Slave to Laws, and takes its Meaſures from thence; is check’d and kept under by Hope and Fear; is acquired, learned, produced and practiced upon the account of, and in ſubmiſſi- on to the Religion we profeſs, the Government we live under, the Cuſtoms of our Country, the Com- mands of our Superiors, the Examples of Them we converſe with, bound up in Forms, and limited by the Letter of the Law; an effeminate, poor-ſpirited Honeſty, perplexed with Doubts, and Scruples, and Terrors of Conſcience. For ſome People never think themſelves innocent, and as they ſhould be ; when their Minds are quiet, and eaſy, and void of Fear. What moti- on; the world have of it. Of Wiſdom. Book Iſ. Fear. Now ſuch an Honeſty as this, muſt not only be mutable and manifold in ſeveral parts of the World, and vary as the Religion, and Laws, and Examples, and Forms and Modes of the Countries, where men happen to converſe, ſhall vary; (For where the Springs of Aćtion change, the whole Movement muſt needs change proportionably). But, which is yet more to its diſparagement, it muſt needs be irregular, and unequal ; inconſiſtent with it ſelf; floating and unſe:tled; full of Ebbings and Flowings, Intervals of Heat and Cold; inconſtant and precarious; depending on the Events and Suc- ceſſes of Affairs; the Offering of Occaſions, and Interpoſition of ſudden Emergencies; the Diffe- rence of Perſons and Circumſtances; and a thou- ſand other unforeſeen Accidents, which move this Man and his Virtue, as a Boat is moved by Sails and Oars, by ſudden ſtrokes and ſpurts; and guſts and puffs of Wind. In a word, Theſe Men are good purely by Chance, by fits and ſtarts ; by ex- ternal and very diſtant motives; and not in reality, and by virtue of a fix’d and governing Principle. This Defect of theirs is what not only ſtanders by, but even themſelves are inſenſible of; they never obſerve, nor diſcover their own imperfections, but it were eaſy to ſhew them to themſelves, and make the thing plain to them, by holding a ſtiff Rein, obſerving them more nicely and diſtinétly; and quickning their attention a little. And indeed no- thing would be a more effectual Convićtion of their Deficiency, than the mighty inequality of their Actions, and Tempers, and their own Diſagree- ment with themſelves. For in one and the ſame caſe, you ſhall find them coming to quite different reſolutions and determinations; and acting in direct contradiction, to what they have done before. Sometimes they are ſo heavy and dull, that neither Whip nor Spur can get them forward; and preſently uPOIs Ch. 3. Imtegrity the Firſt Part of IPſdºm, 65 upon the full ſpeed, that no Bit can ſtop them. Now this prodigious unevenneſs and difference of Behaviour is occaſioned by the difference of thoſe external Motives, by which they are governed and managed ; And as Theſe ſometimes agitate and heat them violently , ſwell, and multiply; or grow lukewarm and cold, and flag and droop again; ſo muſt Their Virtue and Zeal needs increaſe and abate accordingly ; and thus it diſtinguiſhes it ſelf from Real and Subſtantial Wirtue, by that Property natu- ral to all Accidents; which is, the being capable of Augmentation and Diminution; and ſo of no bet- ter Extract, than all thoſe Qualities, whoſe diſho- nour it is, according to the Terms of the Schools, Recipere magis & minus. Now That True and Subſtantial Integrity, which I inſiſt upon at preſent as a neceſſary qualification, in order to Wiſdom, is free, and eaſy ; void of Affe- &tation and Conſtraint; maſculine and generous; pleaſant and chearful; equal and uniform; conſtant and ſteady; magnanimous and brave; keeping on its own courſe, and never looking to the right hand, or to the left; never ſtanding ſtill, or ſlackning, or quickning its pace; upon the account of Wind or Weather; Accidents and Occaſions may change, but This continues always the ſame. It is not in the power of any thing to alter or ſhake it; my mean- ing is, that the Man's Judgment and Will are fixed and immutable; and the Soul, where this Integrit hath taken up its Reſidence, is never to be corrupted, or diverted to diſhoneſt purpoſes. For the Sincerity of the Heart is the Virtue we are treating of ; There it is lodged, by That we muſt judge; for External Aäions, and thoſe eſpecially that are of a publick Capacity and Importance, are of a Nature and Con- ſideration very different from this ; as I ſhall have oc- caſion to ſhew hereafter, when my Method brings me to treat of them diſtinétly. Of 4. What it is in Truth, Of Wiſdom. Book II. Of this I ſhall give my Reader ſome deſcription, when I have firſt deſired him to recollect what was ſaid in the Preface; and that in agreement to the deſign of this Treatiſe, I ſpeak of Probity and Wiſ- dom at preſent, as Virtues purely Human, ſuch as entitle a Man to the Charaćter of an Honeſt or a prudent Man with regard to Civil Affairs, and com- mon Converſation; without any reſpect at all to the Chriſtian and more exalted ſenſe of the thing. Of which nevertheleſs, though Foreign to the gene- ral Intent of my Book, I ſhall take occaſion to ſay ſome little matter, before I leave this Subječt. The true Spring and Source of this Probity is Na- ture; which obliges a man to be ſuch as he ought to be ; that is, to conform, and govern himſelf ac- cording to her Dićtates and Directions. For Nature maintains a twofold Charaćter, and is at once a Miſtreſs to Command, and a Law to teach, and ſet us out our Duty. With regard to the former of theſe Capacities, there is an Internal, Univerſal, that is, a natural Obligation incumbent upon every Man, to be an honeſt, ſincere Man, and ſo to an- ſwer the End of his Creation. And This is an Ob- ligation ſo ſtrong, an Inducement ſo weighty, that no one need look for any greater, any additional Motives; nor indeed is it poſſible, to find any that deſerve greater Deference and Regard; any antece- dent to it, ſince its Validity is of the ſame date with our Selves, and both It and We came into the World together. Every Man ought to make it his buſineſs and care to be a good Man, upon this very account, becauſe he is a Man; for he who is regardleſs of this point, is a Monſter, renounces himſelf, reproaches his Nature, and in effect ceaſes to be, what he ap- pears, and uſurps a Form, which of Right belongs not to him. This Probity muſt alſo be of its own growth, without Cultivating of Conſtraint; that is, it muſt proceed from an Internal Principle, which > God Ch. 3. Integrity the Firſt Part of Wiſdom. 67 God hath wrought into our Nature and Conſtitu- tion; and not be the effect of Accident, or any foreign Inducement. No Man, whoſe Will is un- corrupt, would chuſe a thing in its declenſion, as debaſed and fallen from its natural Perfection; It is a Contradićtion to pretend a Man deſires a thing, and that he is indifferent at the ſame time, whether it be what it ought, and have all the Commendable Qualities of right belonging to it. A Man is ſolici- tous to have all his parts in their true Perfection; his Head, his Eyes, his Judgment, his Memory, his whole Body; nay, the very Conveniences and Ac- coutrements belonging to that Body; and ſhall his Will and his Conſcience be the only neglected things about him 2 Shall it be no part of his Care whether Theſe have their due Integrity or not *. I would have a Man reſolute in Goodneſs, though it were but purely upon his own account, and in regard to his Charaćter as he is a Man; ſenſible, that to Act other. wiſe, is, as much as in him lies, to abandon and deſtroy himſelf; and thus Probity will be an Inter- nal Principle, as eſſential to, and of a piece with him, as He is with himſelf. No external Cauſe is capable of being a ſufficient Foundation for it, be- cauſe all ſuch are foreign and accidental; and as ſuch are liable to Changes and Decays ; and when- ever the Foundation ſinks, the Superſtructure muſt of neceſſity tumble with it : If a Man be virtuous and juſt for the ſake of his Reputation, or any other Advantage, What Obligation will this be to his Re- tirements, to his Solitary Actions? Take off the Hopes of his Virtue being known, and you either take off the whole thing, or cool, and check his vigour in the pračtice of it. If fear of Laws and Puniſh- ments reſtrain him ; put him but in a way to elude the Laws, and eſcape publick Diſcovery ; and what ſhall ſecure his Honeſty then? So poor, ſo precari- ous; ſo uncertain a thing is this Occaſional Virtue : F 2. And Of Wiſdom. Book II. 6, And yet This is the Virtue in vogue, and what very few riſe beyond. As the World goes, ’tis very well if all theſe Conſiderations will prevail upon Men to do what becomes them; nay if their Actions becom- mendable or blameleſs, whatever their ſecret Diſpo- ſitions are. Now I expect, in the perſon whom this Treatiſe undertakes to form, a Probity that will ſtand upon its own bottom ; ſo firmly rooted, that you can no more ſeparate it from the Man, than you can his very human Nature it ſelf. I expect he ſhould never yield to do an Ill thing, though he could be aſſured it will never be known. For is it poſſible to conceal it from himſelf? And if his own Con- ſcience be privy to it, what need any farther Wit- neſſes 2 This One is more than all the World beſides. By the ſame reaſon he muſt be as obſtinately good, notwithſtanding any Recompence which would bribe him to be otherwiſe; for it is impoſſible he ſhould receive a valuable Conſideration in this Caſe ; and nothing can be ſo near to him, as his own Eſ- fence, which Wickedneſs impairs and corrupts. To yield upon ſuch Temptations, is like the being con- tent with a very ill Horſe, provided a Man have an embroider'd Saddle. I muſt therefore inſiſt upon it, that being a Man, and taking care to live as becomes one, that is, taking care to be a ſincere good Man, fhould always go together, and be above the power of all the World to ſeparate them. This particular I think is ſufficiently urged, let us now proceed to the next. Now the Model and Pattern, the Spring and Source of this Integrity, is the Law of Nature; by which I mean Univerſal Equity and Reaſon, that Candle of our Maker lighted up in every breaſt, to guide, and ſhine in us perpetually. For This is the Dićtate and Direction º God himſelf; He is the King, and This the Fundamental Law of the Uni- verſe, a Ray and Beam of the Divine Nature, that - flows | Ch. 3. Integrity the Firſt Part of Wiſdom. 69 ºf flows from, and hath a neceſſary Connection and Dependence upon that Eternal and Immutable Law, which the Almighty preſcribes to his own Actions, - A Man that proceeds upon this Principle, is his own Rule ; for he acts in agreement with the nobleſt and moſt valuable part of his Nature. This Man's : Honeſty is Eſſential to, and Inſeparable from him; not precarious and uncertain, and owing merely to Chance and Occaſion; For this Light and Law is born with, and bred in us; a piece of our Frame, and Original Conſtitution; and from thence ob- tains the Name of Nature, and the Lily of Nature. Such a Man by conſequence will be a good Man conſtantly, and at all times; his Wirtue will be uni- form and even; every Place, every Emergency will find him the ſame. For this Law of Nature is per- i petual; the Obligation of it is laſting and inviola- ble; the Equity and Reaſon of it are Eternal ; written in large and indelible Charaćters; no Acci- dent can deface them, no length of time waſte or wear them out ; even Wickedneſs it ſelf, by the Cuſtomary Habits whereof the poſitive and additio- nal Improvements of this Law, are corrupted; yet cannot debauch, or exterminate theſe firſt and Na- tural Notions; no Place, no Time can alter or diſ- #. them ; but they continue every where the ame. The Collections inferred from them differ infinitely, but theſe firſt Principles themſelves, which are the Ground of all Moral Inſtitutions, ad- mit of no Change, no Increaſe, no Abatement; : no Fits and Starts, no Ebbings and Flowings ; but, as they are a part of our Subſtance, ſo do they # agree with what the Schools ſay of all Subſtances in general, " that it is contrary to their nature to be more * or leſs than they are. Why then, Wain Man, doſt º : ‘Subſtantia non recipit magis & minus. ſ: F 3 thou of Wiſdom. Book II. Rom. 2. I 2. Rom. I. thou trouble thy ſelf, to ſeek abroad for ſome Law and Rule to Mankind? What can Books or Maſters tell thee, which thou mighteſt not tell thy ſelf 2 What can Study or Travel ſhew , which at the ex- pence of much leſs pains thou might'ſt not ſee at home, by deſcending into thy own Conſcience, and hearkning attentively to its Admonitions 2 When Ignorance of this kind is pretended, the ſame Reply is fit for Thee, which would be given to a ſhuffling Debtor; who, when Payment is demanded , pro- feſſes not to know how the Money became due, when all the while he hath the Bill about him: For thou carrieſt the Bond, and the particulars of thy ; ! Debt in thy own Boſom; and what thou ſeekeſt In- ; formation of from others, canſt not but know, if thou conſult thy Self. To what purpoſe is all this Labour and Coſt; the toilſome tumbling over of Codes, and Inſtitutes ; of Precedents, and Reports; of Statutes and Re- cords, when all theſe are contained in one ſmall portable Volume 2 The Two Tables of Moſes, the Twelve Tables of the Greeks, the Law written in the hearts of Them who had no Law; and in ſhort, all the Rules of Equity, and Good Laws, that have any where been enacted, and obtained in the World, are nothing elſe but Copies and Tranſcripts produ- ced in open Court, and publiſhed from that Origi- nal, which thou keepeſt cloſe within thee, and yet all the while pretendeſt to know nothing of the matter; ſtifling and ſuppreſſing, as much as in thee lies, the Brightneſs of that Light, which ſhines with- in ; and ſo falling under the Condemnation of thoſe mentioned by the Apoſtle, who hold, or detain the Truth of God in Uhrighteouſneſs. If This have not been ſufficiently publiſhed, and promulged as loud, as clear, as intelligibly as other humane Laws, the only Reaſon is, that that Light which is really All- heavenly and Divine, hath been put under a º that : Ch. 3. Integrity the Firſt Part of IITſlim. 7 1 that is, too much neglected, and induſtriouſly for- gotten. All other Inſtitutions are but ſo many Ri- vulets and Streams derived from this common Source: And although they be more viſible, and obvious, and expreſs, yet is not the Water they carry ſo co- pious, nor ſo lively and pure, as that of the unſeen Spring within thy own Breaſt; if thy own Negi- gence did not ſuffer it to waſte and dry up. It is not, I ſay, ſo Copious; for as one well obſerves, * What a world of Good Offices are there , which Pisty, Humanity, Liberality, and Fidelity require fºom a Man, and yet no written or poſitive Law ever preſcribed 2 Alas! how poor and ſcanty a thing is that Honeſty of your Formal and Hypocritical Pretenders, who ſtick to the Letter of the Law, and think, when That is ſi- tisfied , they have fully diſcharged their Duty; whereas there are infinite Obligations incumbent up- on a Man, which no human Law ever binds upon him. i. He that is homeſ; only in the Eye of the Law, hath but a very ſlender ſort of Innocence to loaft; fºr the Meaſure of our Duty is of a much larger extant, than the Law can pretend to. “There are infinite Caſes un- “foreſeen; ſudden Emergencies, and extraordinary “Conjunctures; the Occaſions and Circumſtances “ whereof are too many and too intricate, for any “human Wiſdom to foreſee ; and much more im- “ poſſible for it to make any competent Proviſion “for; ſo that a Man muſt often be left to his own “Judgment and Diſcretion ; and, even where he is “not, a Good Man will ſometimes think the Rule “too narrow; and diſdain to confine or cramp up “his Virtue within the Compaſs of that, which was * Quam multa Pietas, Humanitas, Liberalitas, Fides exigunt, quae extra Tabulis ſunt? • v + Quâm anguſta Innocentia ad Legem bonum eſſe ; latās Of. ficiorum quâm Juris patet Regula. F 4 “ thought 72 Of Wiſdom. Book II. “ thought neceſſary to be impoſed upon every Com- “mon Man.” And as this inviſible Fountain with- in is more exuberant and plenteous; ſo is it more lively, and pure, and ſtrong, than any of thoſe Streams derived from it. Of which we need but this ſingle Teſtimony; That, whenever any Diſputes ariſe about the Interpretation and right Execution of a poſitive Law, the conſtant and beſt Method of Underſtanding the Equity and true Intent of it, is by running it back to its firſt Head, and obſerving what is moſt agreeable to the Law of Nature in the Caſe ; This is the Teſt and Touch, This the Level and the Truth, by which all the reſt are to be judg- ed. For, as we commonly ſay, "Reaſon is the Soul and Life of the Law; here we find things clear and limpid in their Source, which when drawn out into Rivulets, grow foul and ſullied, by all that Faëtion, and Intereſt, Ambition, and ſerving of Parties, which corrupt all human Sanétions and Eſtabliſh- InlentS. And thus I have deſcribed to you a Real, Sub- ſtantial, Radical, Fundamental Honeſty; born with us; rooted in us; ſpringing from the Seed of Uni- verſal Reaſon. This in the Soul, is like the Spring and Balance in a Clock, it regulates all its motions; like the Natural Warmthin the Body, which ſuſtains and preſerves it ſelf, and is both its own Strength and Safety, and the Perſon's to whom it belongs. The Man that proceeds according to This, acts in conformity to the Will of God, in conſiſtence and agreement with himſelf; in compliance with Nature; and obedience to thoſe Rules, upon which all Go- vernment and Civil Conſtitutions are founded; he proceeds ſmoothly, gently, filently ; His Wirtue draws little Obſervation perhaps, as it makes no --- Noiſe; ' Anima Legis Ratio. Ch.3. Integrity the Firſt Part of Wiſdom. 73 Noiſe ; but ſlides on, and keeps its Courſe, like a Boat carried down by the Courſe of the Water in a Calm day: Whereas all other ſorts of Virtue are the Produćts of Art and Accident, grafted into us by Diſcipline, and not of our own natural growth; fickle and out of Temper, like the Intermitting Heat and Cold of a Fever; they are acquired at firſt, and drawn out into exerciſe afterwards, by Chance and Occaſion, practiſed upon foreign and diſtant Conſiderations; acting by ſudden ſtarts, and ſhort ſpurts; with Clamour, and Noiſe, with Hurry and Clutter, with Oſtentation and Wainglory. And from hence we are led to the true meaning of all thoſe Glorious things, which Philoſophers and Wiſe Men in all Ages have ſaid of Nature: For what Dočtrines are more common in the mouths of every one of them, than theſe, "That the way for a Man to live well, is to live agreeably to Nature; That a perfeół Conformity with Nature is the Supreme Good, the moſt exquiſite Happineſ. Mankind are capable of; That if we make Nature our Miffreſ, and Guide, and conſtantly follow the Directions ſhe gives, we ſhall never go amiſ 2 By all which it is plain, that Nature is ſet to ſignify that Univerſal Reaſon and Equity, which is given for a Light to our Minds; and is both of that vaſt comprehenſion, as to contain under it the Seeds of all kind of Virtue, Probity, and Juſtice; The Com- mon Parent, that gives Birth to all wholſome and good Laws, all juſt and Equitable Judgments, that ever were or will be given; and alſo of that Clearneſs and Perſpicuity too, that Men of the meaneſt Ca- pacity and Attainments, might determine themſelves, and be condućted by it. Whatever ſcandalous of * Naturam ſi ſequaris Ducem, nuſquam aberrabis. Bonum eſt quod ſecundum Naturam, Omnia Vitia contra Naturam ſunt. diſpa- 74 Of Wiſdom. Book II. diſparaging Reflečtions ſome may aſperſe Nature with, or how great a part of them ſoever this Cor- rupted State of it may deſerve, yet there is no doubt to be made, if we look back to their Original, and primitive Conſtitution, but all things were created and diſpoſed in the beſt Order and Condition they were capable of; and had their firſt Motions toward Good infuſed and interwoven with their Being, and ſtrong Tendencies to the End they ought to aſpire after. This was the Work and Wiſdom of Nature; and from hence it is, that no Man who follows and obeys her Dićtates, can ever fail of obtaining and en- joying the End, and true Happineſs proper to his Species. For after all; Men are naturally and origi- nally Good; and when they follow Evil, they for- fake Nature, and are ſeduced by the falſe Allure- ments of Profit, or of Pleaſure: And becauſe Theſe are the two governing Motives, and ſuch as will be ſure to bear a powerful Sway in the World; there- fore the Makers of Laws have always found it ne- ceſſary to propoſe two contrary Objects, that is, Re- ward and Puniſhment, to the Perſons whoſe Obe- dience they would engage. And the Deſign of Theſe is by no means to put a Violence upon their Wills, and ſo conſtrain them to act againſt natural Inclina- tion, as ſome weakly imagine; but it is in truth, to * reduce them to better ſenſe, and bring them back to that, which is not only the beſt, but was the firſt and moſt natural Inclination of their Minds, till perverted by wicked and deceitful Appearances of Counterfeit Good. Nature without all Controverſy is a ſufficient Guide, a gentle Miſtreſs, capable of inſtrućting * Sapientia eſt in Naturam converti; & ea reſtitui unde publi- cus Error expulerit. Abilá non deerrare, ad illius Legem Ex- emplumque formati ſapientia eſt, every Ch. 3. Integrity the Firſt Part of Wiſdom. 75 every one of us, in all the Branches of our Duty, provided we would but be as careful to hearken to its Admonitions; to exert, and keep it awake and aétive. There is no need for Us to beg or to bor- row from Art and Learning, thoſe Means, and Re- medies, and Rules, which are neceſſary for the good Government of our ſelves; for each of us can ſubſiſt and live by himſelf; his own proper Stock is ſuffi- cient to maintain him. A Happy, and a Contented Life is indeed what every one does and ſhould aim at ; but theſe are Bleſſings by no meansentailed up- on Learning, or Parts, or Greatneſs, or Honour; a Man may attain them, and never ſee the face of a Court, or a City. There is a Proportion common and natural to all, which is enough for this pur- poſe; and All beyond that, however valuable, as additional Advantages, are yet by no means neceſſa- ry; we can do very well without them ; and which is worſe , we are ſo far from doing very well upon their account, that they do but increaſe our Trou- bles and our Difficulties, and do us more Hurt than Good. How many plain, and ignorant, and mean Men do we ſee, that live with more ſenſible Plea- ſure and Satisfaction, more ſedate and undiſturbed both in their Minds and Fortunes; and upon occa- fion can meet, and encounter Poverty or Pain, Dan- ger or Death, with a better Grace, and greater Com- poſure, than the moſt Learned, and celebrated Phi- loſophers? And if one take the pains to obſerve it nicely, you will find more frequent Inſtances, more eminent Patterns of Patience, and Conſtancy, and Evenneſs of Temper, among plain Countrey Peo- ple, and thoſe of mean Condition, than all the Schools can boaſt of Theſe are ſimple and unaffect- ed, they go on where Nature leads, are influenced by the Reaſons ſhe ſuggeſts, and the impreſſions ſhe makes, without creating new and imaginary Trou- bles. They feel no more than is to be felt, and uſe In O Of Wiſdom. Book II. no Art and Induſtry to torment themſelves; Their Paſſions are low, and quiet, and ſmooth, in com- pariſon of Theirs who take pains to ruffle them; and eſteem it a piece of Bravery to indulge and blow them up ; and ſo they go on in all their Af- fairs more calmly and conſiderately, without Heat, or Diſorder; whereas others look big and bluſter, do every thing with Pomp and Hurry; are in perpetual Agitation and Alarm, and keep themſelves and all Mankind awake. One of the greateſt Maſters, and moſt exquiſite Improvers of Nature was Socrates, as Ariſtotle was proportionably Eminent for Art and Learning. Each of theſe in their reſpective Province was wonderful ; but it is obſervable, that Socrates took a plain, and natural way, inſinuated himſelf by vulgar Arguments, familiar Similitudes, an eaſy Style ; and, by talking as a downright Countrey Fellow, or a good diſcreet Woman would have done, did not only ſuit himſelf better to the Capacities of Men, but laid down ſuch uſeful Precepts, and Rules of a Virtuous Life; ſuch powerful Antidotes againſt all manner of Sufferings, and Accidents, that the Strength and Vigor of them was never yet improved, nor the Succeſs, exceeded, ſhall I ſay? No, not ſo much as matched; or any thing like it invented by all the Study and Acquired Learning in the World. But alas! we are ſo far from truſting to the Gui- dance of Nature, that we never ſo much as give it the Hearing. The Violence put upon it, and the intraćtable Temper of Vice and Extravagance, of unruly Appetites, perverſe Diſpoſitions, and depra- ved Wills, which are eternally ſtriving to choak, and ſuppreſs, nay quite to deface, and utterly to ex- tinguiſh, as much as in them lies, the Light within; that mortify and kill the very ſeeds of Virtue; theſe are too groſs to come within the preſent Account. My Complaint is, that whereas the Concurrent Advice of all Wiſe men hath been to follow Na- turº Ch. 3. Integrity the Firſt Part of Wiſdom. 77 ture, the Generality of Mankind run away from it. We let it ſleep, and ruſt upon our hands; play Tru- ant, while we may learn at home; and chuſe to beg our Improvement abroad, to have recourſe to Study and Art, which are comparatively ſordid and deſpi- cable ways of attaining Knowledge, rather than content our ſelves with an Independent and noble Wiſdom, which is generous, and of our own Growth. We have all of us a buſy turbulent Spirit, that af. ſects to be ever managing, and governing, and will have a hand in every thing; this is variable and humorſome, perpetually buſtling, and reſtleſs; fond of Novelty, and Diſguiſe; inventing, adding, al- tering; never pleaſed long with the ſame thing, nor ever content with pure Nature, and unaffected Simplicity; but a Contemner and Wilifier of Plain- neſs, as if it were not poſſible for any thing to be Good, which is void of Art, and Cunning, and nice Contrivance. Thus * Virtue, which is genuine, in- ſtead of the Frankmeſ, and Openneſ; peculiar to it, is cor- rupted and changed into dark and crafty Speculation. And beſides all this, One Fault more we are tainted with; which is, The Diſeſteem of every thing in general, which is the produćt of our own Soil; What we can have for nothing is worth nothing; it muſt be far fetched and dear bought, to recommend it: Foreign things only can pleaſe; and in agree- ment with this Whimſey it is, that we prefer Art be- fore Nature; which is in effect, To ſhut out the Sun when ſhining in its Strength, and to light up Candles at Mid-day. All which Follies and Extra- Nagant humours are owing to One more; which is a Weakneſs in a manner entail d upon the whole World; That, I mean, of eſtimating things, not ac- , ‘Simplex illa & aperta Virtus in obſcuram & ſolertem Scien- tiam verſa eſt, cording Of Wiſdom. Book Iſ. cording to their real and intrinſick Value, but on- ly according to the Shew, and Figure,and Noiſe they make; which is to renounce our own Judgment and Experience, and in effect to give our ſelves up to be determined by the Common Opinion, of thoſe, who are leaſt qualified to know or judge at all. Nor does this Folly ſtop here; but we proceed to yet higher degrees of Inſolence; we even trample Nature under foot, diſdain, deſpiſe, and are perfect- ly aſhamed of it; are nice in Poſitive and National Laws, and diſregard thoſe that are Natural and Uni- verſal. Nay, for the ſake of bringing Ceremony and Form into Reputation, (which is a moſt horrible Indignity,and very Contemptuous Treatment); We cancel and condemn a Law of God's making, to advance Laws of Civility and Good Manners of our own forging. Thus Art carries away Nature; the Shadow is of greater Conſideration with us than the Body; and the Air and Face of things, than the Solidity and Subſtance. We take great care to cover and conceal ſome things that are natural, that we may not give offence; we bluſh at the very ſound of ſome words in modeſty and good breeding; and yet we are under no Fears, no reſtraint of doing things unlawful, and unnatural. To keep us at as great a diſtance from ſome forts of Sins as is poſſi- ble, we are not allowed ſo much as to name the parts employed in them; and yet after all this ſcru- pulous ſhyneſs, How many are there who never boggle in the leaſt at abandoning themſelves to all manner of Debauchery and Laſciviouſneſs? It was an old Complaint of the Stoicks, that though ſome very natural and innocent Actions of Life were induſtriouſly concealed; yet Many others were named without a bluſh, which yet were in their own nature wicked and abominable; and what both Na- ture and Reaſon deteſt; ſuch as Perjury, Treachery, Cheating, Lying, Murther, and the like. We may improve Ch. 3. Integrity the Firſt Part of Wiſdom. 79 : : : improve the Complaint, by adding, that in Our days Men pretend to more nicety in Converſation; but theſe really wicked things, they do not only menti- on without Shame, but act without Fear. Nay, even in Treaſons and Aſſaſſinations, thoſe blackeſt of all Willains make pretenſions to Ceremony, and think themſelves obliged to Murther in point of Ho- nour and Duty; and when this is done, that it be done with ſome ſort of Decency. Prodigious Im- pudence and Folly! That Injuſtice ſhould complain of Incivility; and Malice think it ſelf wronged by Indiſcretion. Does not the Art of Ceremony then plainly prevail over Nature, and ſhew, that its In- fluence is much ſtronger upon corrupt Mankind 2 Ceremony forbids us to expreſs ſome things which Nature allows and juſtifies, and we ſubmit contented- ly; Nature and Reaſon would reſtrain us from wicked and miſchievous actions, and no body obeys, or at all regards them. This is manifeſtly to Proſti- tute our Conſciences, and abandon all diſtinétions, all common ſenſe of Good and Evil; and yet at the ſame time think our ſelves obliged to put on a modeſt Face, and look grave and demure. As if it mattered not, what we are within, ſo nothing appear amiſs in our Countenance; and the ſetting our looks in Form, were of more conſequence, than the Inno- cence of our Souls. This Hypotheſis is moſt Mon- ſtrous and Abſurd, and Nature cannot furniſh us with an Incongruity like it, in all the Creatures that ever God made. My meaning is not here, what ſome may maliciouſly repreſent it, to find fault with that Decency and Ceremony, which gives an Orna- ment and Beauty to our Actions, and ought there- fore to be ſtrictly regarded. But my Complaint is like that of our Saviour to the Phariſees; Ye Hypo- crites, ye make clean the outſide of the Cup and Platter, Theſe ought ye to have done, and not to leave the other undone. One Mut. xxiii. 8o | | Of Wiſdom. Book II. IO. One very ſad effect of this ſo general Alteration, and Corruption of our firſt Notions and Principles, is, That we are now come to that miſerable paſs, as to have no Footſteps of pure Nature left diſcernible among us. Inſomuch that we are wonderfully per- plexed, and at a loſs, What and How many thoſe Laws are, which ſhe preſcribes to us. The peculiar Charaćter, by which the Law of Nature uſed to be diſtinguiſhed from all others, is that of Univerſal Approbation and Conſent. For it muſt needs be ſuppoſed, that what this Common Mother and Mi- ſtreſs of us All, had really enaëted and appointed for our Rule, would be readily obeyed by all her Chil- dren; that in This there would be, as it were, One Heart and One Soul; and not only every Nation and Countrey, but every private Man would come in, and live in perfect Agreement with it. Now, if we come to examine matter of Faët in this Caſe, we ſhall ſcarce find any one thing in the world, which is not ſomewhere or other diſapproved and contradićted; not by a few particular Perſons only, nor by one ſingle Nation, but in ſeveral entire Countries; And on the other hand, there is not any thing in Our Apprehenſion ſo prodigious and unnatu- ral, but ſome Countries have entertained it, and gi- ven it not only the Countenance of a favourable Opinion, but the Authority of Cuſtom and Com- mon practice too. Neglect of increaſing their Fa- milies, and Indifference in point of Poſterity; the Murthering of their own Parents, of their own Children, nay of their own Selves; Marrying with the neareſt Relations; Pilfering and Stealing; Commerce and publick Societies of Robbers; pub- lick Bartering away one's Liberty, ſelling and letting out their Bodies, and that in Perſons of both Sexes; Theſe are things in the opinion of moſt People very monſtrous and deteſtable; and yet there are feveral Nations, which do not only connive at and allow, º: :ſº †† mºſ tº § ºf its; : Wi: | W: # th: §: $150 * Aſ #: itſen kin º, is ! ſºn # ºf º th it. Aft i Amſ *::: *d tº: º º ºf ( sº § W. § &n, | § § k . . St. § º Ch. 3. Integrity the Firſt Part of Wiſdom. 8 i allow, but uſe them ſo, as to make them the Cuſtom of the Country. What courſe then can we take, or which way ſhall we turn our ſelves to find out Nature and its Origi- nal Inſtitutions? 'Tis plain, our own Species have little ſigns of it left; and if there be any Impreſſi- ons of this kind ſtill unworn out, we muſt expect to meet with them only in Brutes, who want the Mercury we have, and ſo have not debauched and corrupted their primitive Conſtitution , by a trou- bleſome and reſtleſs Spirit, by the pretended Im- provements of Art, nor the Real Fopperies of Ce- remony. All which we have indulged to ſo extrava- gant a degree, that there is ſome reaſon to ſuſpećt, whether even Beaſts are altogether ſo ſound, as they ſhould be in this point; and if the keeping ſo ill Company as Mankind have not in ſome degree drawn upon Them the Inſection of our Follies. The reſt of the Creation however follow Nature entirely ; they are content to ſtick and abide by that Firſt and Univerſal Order, and Rule, which the Great Author and Governor of all, thought fit to eſtabliſh, and appoint. Man is the only factious and diſcontented Creature; he breaks in upon the Con- dition and good Government of the World; and while he profeſſes to mend and poliſh what Nature hath preſcribed, he confounds all with his Freedom of Will, and Gallantry of Spirit; ceaſes to be regular upon pretence of being more refined; and deſtroys Nature, while he goes about to exalt and add to it. In a word then, True Honeſty and Integrity, That which is the very Foundation and Support of Wiſdom, conſiſts in following Nature, that is, to ſay, ačting in agreement with right Reaſon. The Happineſs, the Aim, the End, That wherein all the Eaſe, the Liberty, the Contentment of the Mind is compriſed; and to be ſhort, the utmoſt perfection we are capable of in this World, is to govern our I. ayn - II. I2. Of Wiſdom. Book II. s 3 . and Aétions by the Rules which Nature hath ſet us; and keeping the Order of our Creation.And that Or- der conſiſts in this, That the meaner and more groſs Appetites ſhould be kept in due Subjection, and that : which is the moſt excellent part of our Nature, ſhould controul and bear ſway. That is, When Reaſon governs Senſe, and Truth is preferred before falſe and empty Appearances. And as the Needle, when touchd with the Load-ſtone, reſts at no Point but the North; And by fixing there becomes a Guide to Sailors in their Courſe: So Man is never in his due Poſition, when his Eyes are not fixed upon this Primitive, this Divine, this Univerſal Law of Human Nature. For That is the proper Compaſs, to direct his Inclinations and Opinions by; and all the other helps he enjoys, are but ſo many freſh Lamps kind- led at this Original Light. - - Now although This be a Power from which no Man is excluded, yet I cannot but acknowledge, that the putting it in practice, and bringing the Endea- vours of this kind to good effect, is not in every Man's power equally. Some do it with much greater Eaſe and Succeſs than others. There are a fort of Perſons, who ſeem to be made for Virtue; their Complexion and whole Conſtitution diſpoſes and fits them for it. Their Tempers are ſo well mixed, ſo naturally ſweet and gentle, that they feel in themſelves a ſtrong Inclination , and an Original Propenſity to Goodneſs and Integrity, without any pains to bend their Affections by Art, or to ſubdue and correct them by Diſcipline and Study. This happy Frame of Mind is what I conceive to be prin- cipally owing to the firſt Formation of the Parts; the Proportions and Compoſition of the Spirits and Humours; and afterwards, to the proper and kindly Nouriſhment of a good Milk, and the Care and Management of their Infancy and firſt. Beginnings of Education. And thoſe, who are thus inclined - - - - - -- - -- - * , - - * - tos Ch. 3. Integrity the Firſt Part of Wiſdom. 8; to follow and comply with Nature and Reaſon, who bear a ſecret Reverence to its Dićtates, and find little or no difficulty in ſubmitting, are the Perſons proper- ly meant, when we ſpeak of the Happineſs of good- tempered Men; and ſuch as we ſay, Nature hath been kind, or partial to. This natural and ſponta- neous Honeſty now, which comes as it were into the World with us, is properly called Good Diſpoſiti- on, the Quality of a Soul and Body well put toge- ther, and of Humours duly moderated; It is a Sweetneſs, Eaſineſs, and Gentleneſs of Temper. By which I would not be ſo miſtaken, as to be thought to make no difference between this, and a Softneſs, which is indeed an effeminate, ſottiſh, un- concerned, and vitious Eaſineſs of Mind; which is managed and led by the Noſe; hath no Courage, no Choice of it's own; ſtrives to carry fair and be- come agreeable to every body, and above all things declines giving offence to any ; that will not do an Aćt of Virtue and Juſtice, if it be likely to diſpleaſe; nor dares refuſe the wickedeſt and moſt unbecoming Compliances, when the Favour and Opinion of Men lye at ſtake: Theſe Perſons have no regard in the Earth for Equity or Reaſon, the Merits of the Cauſe, or the Service of the Publick; but all their Conſiderations are fixed upon the Conſequences, as to their own private Intereſt, and they look no far- ther, than who is like to be obliged or diſobliged, by what they do. It is of ſuch wretched, poor- ſpirited, Complaiſant Perſons, that you hear People frequently give that falſe and moſt unjuſt Commen- dation; Oh he is a wonderful good Man! for he is kind even to the worſt and wickedeſt Men; where- as indeed This Charge is much more deſerved and true of them ; that É. a Man cannot be a Good Man, becauſe he is not ſevere to ill Men, but encou- rages their Willany by his Mildneſs, and falſe ſhew of Good nature. Such a Goodneſs as this is, ſhould G 2 rather 84 Of Wiſdom. Book II. rather be called Harmleſsneſs, for it is juſt like that Quality of little Children, and Sheep, and ſuch other Beaſts, as we commonly call poor, innocent, ſimple Creatures. But the true Sincerity and Honcſty I am ſpeaking of, hath a very different Character; . it is a maſculine, brave, vigorous, and active Good- neſs of Mind; a ſtrong conſtant Affection, an eaſy, ready Inclination, by which the Soul embraces, and ſtands always bent to that which is conſonant to Reaſon and Nature; and Nature in this ſenſe is but another word for Goodneſs, and Equity, and Juſtice. º Again: There are many Inſtances, on the other hand, of Perſons ſo croſs and ill contrived, that one would be tempted to think them Monſters in Human Form.They have a Diſpoſition ſingular and by them- ſelves, ſo very rough and unmanageable, as if ſome evil Genius had ſhuffled them up together, in perfect Contradićtion, and deſpight of Nature. In ſuch Circumſtances there is great difficulty; This vitious Diſpoſition muſt be cured and correóted ; the Harſh- neſs of it ſweetned; its wild and bruitiſh Rough- neſs tamed and made gentle; its crooked, and ſtiff, and irregular Humours bended and bowed down,and made flexible and complying with the ſtreight Rule and Plan of Univerſal Nature ; which is the true Level and Standard, Men ſhould bring themſelves to. And the propereſt Remedy for effecting this Cure is for ſuch People to betake themſelves to the Study of Philoſophy (as Socrates did) and to the ſerious and reſolute practice of ſevere Virtue; which is a con- itant Combat with Perverſeneſs of Temper; a pain- ful and vigorous conflićt with all manner of Vice; a laborious Study and Exerciſe of the Mind, that re- quires a great deal of Time and Toil, indefatigable Diligence, and ſtrić Diſcipline. Virtue is attended 2"ith Hardſhip, and employed upon a ſubječi, that can nc- wer be eaſy; Labour and Sweat watch perpetually at the Gate ºf Wºrº, and no Entrance is to be attained but by their * - ". . . -- . . . - means ; Ch. 3. Integrity the Firſt Part of Wiſdom. 85 means; ſay ſome of the Antients to this purpoſe. And again: The Gods have ſet a high price upon Virtue, and ſold it dear to Mankind, at the expence of great la- bour and trouble. Now the End of all this Severity and Pains, which I propoſe to Men of this unkind- ly Compoſition, is not to graft in a freſh Fruit upon the Crab-ſtock, not to introduce, I mean, a new, foreign , or artificial Honeſty, and conſequently ſuch a one, as (according to the account already given of this matter, ) would at the beſt be but oc- caſional and accidental only, and ſo, far ſhort of that ſubſtantial and perfeót Integrity I am aiming at: But the Deſign and effect of this Study muſt be to clear the Ruſt and Rubbiſh, to take away Obſtru- ctions, not to create, but to awaken the Powers of Nature; to ſnuff and trim this Lamp within, which is foul, and burns dim; and to quicken all thoſe ori- ginal Seeds of Goodneſs, that have been long kept down, and almoſt quite choaked and killed, either by any vitious Habit in particular, or by ſome perſo- nal Indiſpoſition, and natural Defečt. For the Eyes of the Mind are like thoſe of the Body; the viſive Faculty is formed with them, and inherent from the Beginning; and therefore the way of helping the Sight, is not to add any thing new, but to remove the Films that grow over the Pupil; as a Man wipes away the Duſt from a Looking-Glaſs, to make the * Reflexion clear and ſtrong. I4. From this Repreſentation of the Caſe we may per- Three Pé- ceive, that True Integrity may be diſtinguiſhed into ##. two forts; The One Natural, eaſy, gentle, and even, * * which is properly called a Good Temper; The Other is acquired, full of difficulty, attained by labour and much pain, and This is termed Virtue ; to both which we may add a Third,which is a kind of Com- pound of the Two former, and fo there will be Three Degrees of Perfection in the Caſe before us. The Firſt and Loweſt is an Eaſineſs of Temper, a G 3 Miin 86 Of Wiſdom. Book II. Mind ſo well diſpoſed, as to have naturally and of its own accord, a diſreliſh and averſion to all man- ner of Extravagance and Vice; and this we may call Goodneſs, or Innocence. The Second and next Stage, which we call Virtue, conſiſts in the Art and Labour of Prevention, ſetting it ſelf with all its Force and Vigour, to guard the Avenues, to hinder the Advances of Vice, and check the very firſt Mo- tions of the Paſſions, when they grow mutinous ; and if the Inſurrection be actually begun, to muſter and arm all a Man's Forces to ſtop, and quell, and reduce them. The Third and Higheſt degree of all is a Mixture of Noble Reſolution,and a Happy Tem- per; ſo that the Man from both theſe met together, is ſo excellently well diſpoſed, as not only to conti- nue impregnable, but to be free even from Attacks. Not ſo much as a Temptation riſes to give him Trou- bie ; the very Seeds of Vice are quite rooted out. Virtue is the only, the Natural Growth of this proſperous Soil; and becomes not the Habit, ſo much as the Complexion and Conſtitution of the Man. This Laſt may juſtly be ſtyled Perfection; This and the Firſt kind do thus far reſemble one ano- ther, and are both very differing from the Second; That they are ſilent and ſtill, without difficulty, and without ſtruggle , the natural Air, and conſtant Courſe of the Man, a cheap and eaſy Virtue, that coſts him little or nothing; whereas the Second is a perpetual Conflićt, and dwells in the midſt of Hur- ry and Alarms, and Battels. The laſt and moſt per- fect of theſe Degrees, is acquired by a long and painful Study, a ſerious and conſtant Exerciſe of the Rules of Philoſophy, added to a Good, and Generous, and Noble Nature, largely and liberally furniſhed; and a Mind enriched with all manner of good Diſpoſitions. For in this Caſe Both muſt con- cur; Nature and Induſtry muſt each do their part; and it cannot be entirely the work of one of theſe, * . - 110t Ch.3. Integrity the Firſt part of Wiſbm. 87 * : not all infuſed, nor all acquired. This is the End, which all the old Philoſophers propoſed to their Studies; but above all the reſt, the Stoick and Epicu- rean Sect, ( I, make no ſcruple of ſaying the latter did it as well as the former, though this I confeſs might ſeem ſtrange, had we not the Teſtimony of Seneca, and ſeveral other Ancient Writers in confir- mation of it.) Theſe gallant Men look'd upon Diſ. grace and Contempt, Want and Sickneſs, Pains, and Tortures, nay even Death it ſelf, to be Toys and Trifles, fit for none but Fools and Children to be anxious or concerned about. They did not only deſpiſe them, and endure them with Patience and Conſtancy, and gain an abſolute Conqueſt over all the Troubles and Difficulties of them, whenever they made the Aſſault; but they went out into the Field, they ſought and provoked them, Rejoiced in; as well as Triumphed over them. They look'd lip. on theſe Encounters as neceſſary Breathings for their Wirtue, to keep it in Exerciſe and Vigour; and by the frequency of ſuch Engagements, did not only ſecure and eſtabliſh that Virtue, and render it Firm, and Steady, and Severe, (as Cato and ſome other renowned Stoicks for inſtance did ), but even Cheer- ful and Gay; and if that be not an improper expreſſi- on, wanton and full of play, by the perfect Maſtery they had got over all external Accidents and Things. . Upon the ſtating of the whole Caſe, and compa- ring theſe Three together, ſome who have but in- perfect apprehenſions of the noble Height and true Excellence of the Third Degree, have been incli- ned to think, that the Second was the moſt Honou- table, and to be valued above eitherof the Reſt; by reaſon of the Difficulties and Dangers it contends with, and the many painful and laborious Struggles the Attainment of it coſts. And, as Metellus ãì. that the Doing Evil was a deſpicable thing, becauſe it was the Effect of Cowardice and Lazineſs; ſo G 4 thé 88 Of Wiſdom. Book II. the Doing Well, where it is without the expence of Trouble and Hazard, is look'd upon by theſe per- ſons, as too vulgar and cheap a thing; but the at- tempting and going through with it, in deſpight of Hazards and Troubleſome Oppoſitions, and where theſe attack us in great number, and labour hard to obſtruct, and deter us from our Duty; This is the Commendation of a Good, and a Wirtuous Perſon indeed. "Whatever is excellent is Difficult, was, we know, the uſual Saying of the Nobleſt Philoſopher. But to deal plainly, and ſpeak the Truth of the mat- ter, the Difficulty of obtaining any thing doesby no means alter the nature, or add to the real and in- trinſick value of the thing it ſelf; nor is it, as I have taken occaſion formerly to obſerve, any juſt and warrantable Cauſe for raiſing it in our Eſteem. Nay it is beyond all Controverſy certain on the other ſide, that Natural Excellencies are much more deſirable, and better than thoſe that are ſtudied and acquired. ' That it is much more Brave, and Great, and Divine to act by the motions and ſpontaneous Perfections of Nature, than with the moſt exquiſite Dexterity and niceſt Improvements of Art; in an eaſy, free, equal, and uniform manner, than with laborious Efforts, uncertainly, and with Doubt, and Danger, and Perplexity of Thought. It is in the former of theſe two Senſes, that we term Almighty God Good, His Excellencies are his Nature, Eſſen- tial to him; and if They could ceaſe, he muſt ceaſe to Be. And therefore to call not Him only, but even the Bleſſed Angels, and the Spirits of Juſt Men made perfect, Virtuous; is a Diminution and Diſpa- ragement to them. Theirs is properly Goodneſs too, but Virtue is a Title too low for the Happineſs of unfinning Perfection, a State of Indefectibility, "Difficilia quæ pulchra. 348; at 7& 42.2, Plato. and Ch. 3. higi, the Firſt Part of Wiſdom. 89 and above the reach of all Temptation. 'Tis true indeed, in the Condition we now live, where Dan- gers ſurround, and threaten, and Frailties betray us perpetually ; Virtue makes ſomewhat of noiſe and clutter, and is forced to act with ſome Wehemence; and this gives it the Preference before Smooth and Still Goodneſs. For the generality of people always meaſure the Excellence of a Thing by the Shew, and the Difficulty; and admire that moſt, which coſts deareſt; but this is a falſe method of judging; and we are not much to wonder, if They are wrong here, who indeed are generally ſo in all their Efti- mations of Men and Things. For theſe great Swel- ling Performances, that look ſo big, and ſeem to be all zeal and fire, are not ſubſtantial, nor to the pur- poſe; They are no part of true Honeſty, nor the Produćts of that fix’d Principle we are ſpeaking of; but rather intemperate Heats, and Feveriſh Fits, very different from that Wiſdom we are now in queſt of, which is healthful and moderate, gentle and calm, equal and uniform. Thus much may ſuffice to be ſaid of Honeſty or Sincerity in general; For as to the ſeveral parts of it, and the particular Duties reſulting from thence, they will come under our Conſideration in the Third Book, and particularly, when we ſhall treat of the Virtue of Juſtice. And here I find my ſelf under an Obligation, of diſcharging my Promiſe, in the neceſſary Addition of what follows in this Paragraph. To ſilence (if I6. Of Grace, it be poſſible) the unjuſt Malice, and diſadvantagi- Gus Charaćter caſt upon me by ſome who find fault with my (as they think them ) Extravagant Com- mendations of Nature; as if This were able to do every thing, and no other Aſſiſtances were required. To theſe perſons it might ſuffice to reply, that by Nature I underſtand (as was obſerved before ) the God of Nature, and the Dićtates of Eternal Rea- ſon, 90 Of Wiſdom. Book If. fon, written and engraved in every Heart by His Almighty Hand. I might alſo alledge, that the Sub- jećt of this Book is only Natural, and Human; and that the Author is not obliged by his Deſign to concern himſelf with any Virtues properly Divine, or the Advantages above the power of Nature to confer. But waving all this, I readily acknowledge, that to render the Virtue and Integrity I have been deſcribing compleat, and give it all the Perfections it is capable of, one thing more is neceſſary : The Grace of God I mean ; which muſt animate and invigorate this Goodneſs and Probity; ſhew it in all its luſtre; give the finiſhing ſtroke, refine and exalt it from a mere Moral to a Chriſtian Virtue. This renders it accepted at the Throne of Heaven, approved of God, capable of an Eternal Recom- pence; and fo crowns it both with Perfection here, and a Reward hereafter. It is not eaſy to find Ap- poſite Reſemblances for Things which cannot preſent themſelves to us by any ſenſible Ideas: But if you will pardon the meanneſs of the Compariſon, I ſhould almoſt venture, to compare the Probity here inſiſted on , to a Skilful Maſter, who touches the Keys of an Organ, with abſolute Accuracy and Art; but all to no purpoſe, the Inſtrument is dumb, till the Wind expreſs the Excellence of his Hand, by gi- ving Sound to the inſtrument; and making that Melody, which all his Maſtery in playing was not able to do without it. Thus Moral Wirtue is but a fort of Speculative Perfe&ion, till the Grace of God inſpire, and enable us to put it in Practice, and pro- duce the Fruits of it. . - - Now This is a Bleſſing, which does not conſiſt in refined Thought , nice Notions, and long or learned Diſcourſes; it is not to be acquired by Rule, or the methods of Human Induſtry and Art, nor can we attain to it by our own Labour and Toil; the utmoſt we can do is to prepare, and endeavour to qualify | Ch. 3. Integrity the Firſt Part of Wiſdom. 9 I qualify our ſelves duly for the receiving it; for after All, Receive it we muſt ; It is a Gift that comes down from on high, and the very Name of Grace is deſigned to repreſent to us the Good Will of the Donor, and that the Gift is entirely free. Our part is to ask, to ſeek, to implore it, with all imaginable Humility, and the moſt fervent Deſires we are ca- pable of. To proſtrate our ſelves before the Throne of Grace , and with the utmoſt Contention of Heart and Voice to ſay, “Wouchſafe, O my God, “in thy Infinite Goodneſs to look down with an “Eye of Mercy and Pity upon thy poor Servant; “Accept and grant my Deſires, aſſiſt my weak En- “deavours, and crown thoſe good Inclinations, “ which are originally derived from Thee: The “Law by which I ſtand obliged , the Light by “which I am inſtructed in my Duty, are of thy Or- “dering ; thou haſt ſtamped our Nature with theſe “Impreſſions of Good and Evil, and ſhined in our “hearts by thy Precepts; O give Succeſs to thy “ own Inſtitution, and finiſh the work thou haſt be- “gun; that ſo the Glory and the Fruit may redound “to the Planters uſe, and thou may'ſt be firſt and laſt “in all my Aëtions and Deſigns, my Thoughts and “my Deſires. Water me abundantly with thy “Grace, and take me for thy own, that I who am “of my ſelf miſèrable, and poor, and naked, and “blind, and weak, may be able to do even all “things, through Chriſt, who ſtrengtheneth me. Theſe are proper Addreſſes upon ſuch an occaſion, but the propereſt and moſt probable method to ob- tain them , that is, to incline the Compaſſion of God, and diſpoſe him to gratify ſuch Deſires, will be ſtrict Moral Honeſty, and a Conſcientious Obſer- vation of the Law of Nature to the beſt of our power. For this, though it be not an abſolutely Meritorious Cauſe, is yet a Conditional one, and a good Preparation for the receiving Supernatural Aſ- - ſiſtances; ~ of Wiſdom. Book II. fiſtances; as Matter ready diſpoſed is cloathed with the Form, and the Vegetative and Senſitive Soul deri- ved from our Parents, lead the way, and put all things in readineſs, for the Acceſſion of the Ratio- nal and Intellectual one, which proceeds from God. Thus Human Wiſdom is the Introdućtion to Divine, Philoſophy the Handmaid to Religion, the Natural and Moral Duties of a Man ſubſervient and Inſtru– . mental to the Liberty of a Chriſtian, the Light, and Favour of the Children of God. He who does His beſt in the matters of Reaſon, and Morality, gives God an occaſion of exerciſing his Bounty, and be- ſtowing larger and nobler Wirtues upon him. It be- ing an equitable Method, and ſuch as our Bleſſed Saviour aſſures us, God himſelf proceeds by , to truſt that Man with more and greater Talents, who hath approved himſelf diligent and faithful in the good management of leſs. To this purpoſe are all thoſe Holy Aphoriſms. Thou haſ been faithful in a very little, be thou ruler over much. God giveth the Holy Spirit to all them that ask him. To Him that hath ſhall be given, and He ſhall have abundance. God demies no man Grace, who does his utmoſł. God is wanting to mo Man in neceſſary Supplies; and the like. - On the other hand, To live in Contradićtion and Defiance to Men's Natural Light, is to put one's ſelf out of all Capacity of God's Favour, and, as much as in us lies, to make it impoſſible for Grace to begi- ven us. Since He, who gives it, hath expreſly de- clared upon what Conditions Men are allowed to ex- pećt it ; and if He exceeds thoſe Meaſures, and be- ſtows it upon perſons wholly unqualified, This is be- ſide the Common Method, and an excepted Caſe from his regular Diſpenſations. This obſtimacy and jã is expreſly mentioned, as the Reaſon why our Saviour refuſed to preach in ſome particu- lar places; and , ſince the Evangeliſts, St. Cyril , St. Chryſofton, St. Aliguſtin, and other of the Fa- thers | Ch. 3. Integrity the Firſt Part of Wiſdom. 93 thers have largely diſcourſed upon that matter to this purpoſe. By all which it appears evidently, that Grace and Nature are not contrary Principles; for ( in the Senſe I have all along uſed the Term in this Chap- ter) Grace is ſo far #. forcing or deſtroying Na- ture, that it is a gentle and ſeaſonable Relief to it; nay, it ſtrengthens, and crowns, and perfeóts Na- ture. We muſt not therefore ſet theſe two in oppo- fition to each other, but join both together, and put on the One as the Ornament, the Fulneſs, and juſt Finiſhing of the Other. Both proceed from God, though after different manners; and therefore we muſt neither put them at variance, nor confound them for want of duly diſtinguiſhing them aſunder; for each hath its proper Springs, and peculiar Moti- ons. They neither ſet out together, nor operate alike ; though both came from the ſame place; and lead to the ſame End at laſt. Nature may be without Grace, and when duly followed hath its commendation even then, in re- gard to thoſe Circumſtances which admitted of no more. Thus it was with the Philoſophers and Great Men heretofore, Perſons whoſe Proficiency under this Firſt and General Law , and their Attainments in all ſorts of Moral Virtue, may be allowed to ex- cite our Wonder , as well as challenge our Praiſe. Such likewiſe is the Caſe of all Infidels at this day; becauſe the Grace we ſpeak of is a Goſpel-Bleſſing, and They who are not under the Evangelical Cove. nant, have no Title to it. But Grace cannot be without Nature; becauſe This is the Matter for it to work upon; for the buſineſs of Grace is to reform and perfect; and therefore This as neceſſarily ſup- poſes Nature, as the raiſing of a Roof ſuppoſes a Foundation to be laid, and Walls already car- fied up. The Organiſt may exerciſe his Fingers, ’tis true, upon the dumb Keys, and make his tº - lit 94 Of Wiſdom. Book II. but the Harmony muſt come from the Breath; or if it could ſound, yet would it be but like St. Paul's tinkling Cymbal, of no worth or ſignificancy at all : : But all the Air in the World will never make Mu- : ſick of the Inſtrument, without a Hand to ſtrike . the Keys. In This I have been the more particular, † and deſcended to familiar Compariſons, becauſe : Some I find have ſuffered themſelves to be led into : very groſs Miſtakes upon the matter. Perſons, who have never conceived a right and worthy Notion of . that true Probity and entirely Honeſt Principle we & f V. -w have been recommending; but are blown up with ſtrange Romantick Conceits of Grace ; which they : doubt not to attain, and pračtiſe eminently well, . without any regard to Morality; and by a Scheme . of Phariſaical Accompliſhments; ſome eaſy, lazy, formal Performances, which carry a great appearance of Sanétity to the World; but as for the real Sub- ſtance, and inward Power of Goodneſs and Inte- grity, they give themſelves no trouble at all about it. I ſee great ſtore of theſe Men in the World every day; but alas! I can find but very few ſuch as Ariffides, Phocion, Cato, Regulus, Socrates; no Epa- minonda's, no Scipio's, no Strićt and Conſcientious Profeſſors, I mean, of ſtanch and ſolid Virtue; and 1°hiloſophical, or if you pleaſe, common Juſtice, and downright Moral Honeſty. The Reproaches and Complaints ſo liberally beſtowed by our Saviour upon the Phariſees, and Hypocrites, will never be out of ſeaſon; for the perſons obnoxious to theſe always abound; and even thoſe who ſet up for the Great Cenſors of Manners, the Zealous Railers at Vice, and Grave Reformers of the World, are not all exempt from this Charge themſelves. But enough of this. I have ſpoken largely of the Virtue it ſelf; now before I cloſe this Chapter, I muſt take leave to add one word, concerning the diſpoſition of Mind contrary to it. Now Ch. 3. Integrity the Firſt Part of Wiſdom. 95 Now Wickedneſs (or Evil Pračtices and Tem- per) is againſt Nature, it is deformed, odious, and offenſive ; all that can judge and diſcern muſt needs deteſt and loath it; which gave occaſion for ſome to ſay, That it is a monſtrous Birth, the Product of Brutality and Ignorance. It does not only provoke the Diſlike and Averſion of others, but raiſes the In- dignation of a Man's own Mind, who is guilty of it; Repentance and Self-condemnation are its cer- tain Conſequences. It gnaws, and corrodes, and frets the Soul; like an Ulcer in the Fleſh; makes one reſtleſs and uneaſy; out of Countenance and out of Conceit with himſelf; and is ever buſy in contri- ving and inflićting freſh Torments, as if it were or- dained to be its own Executioner. Hence thoſe Ob- ſervations ; - - - * Nome quits himſelf; his own impartial Thought Will damn; and Conſcience will record the Fault : And again, Not ſharp Revenge, nor Hell it ſelf can find A fiercer Torment, than a Guilty Mind. Hence f Wickedneſs is ſaid to drink the greateſ; part of its own Poyſon; the bitterneſs and the dregs fall to its own ſhare. Evil Counſel turns moſt to the prejudice of the per- ſon that gives it. As the Waſp, though ſhe may hurt and occaſion ſome ſmart to the perſon ſtung by her, * —Prima eſt ha-cultio, quëd ſe Judice, memo nocens abſolvitur. juv. Sat. Xili. Pena autem vehemens, ac multo ſevior illis Quas aut Ceditius gravis invenit, aut Rhadamanthus Noête dieque ſuum geſtare in pećtore teſtem. Ibid. # Malitia ipſ, maximam partem veneni ſuibbit: Malum con- filium conſultori peſſinum, - - yet 17. Wickedneſs. of Wiſdom. Book II. 18. Whether it. be ever al- lowable to do a fault. yet does it ſelf the greateſt harm; and ſuffers more by the loſs of its Sting, and being diſabled for ever after. It is true, Vice is attended with ſome Plea- ſure; for were there not this to recommend it, Wickedneſs would never find any entertainment in the World. No Man ever was, or can be vitious, merely for the ſake, or ſatisfaction of being ſo. But ſtill, when we have allowed this Advantage of a ſhort and ſenſible Satisfaction; yet we muſt not forget what follows, and how poor a buſineſs this is, in compariſon of that laſting Diſpleaſure, and Diſſatis- faétion, it begets afterwards. So that, as Plato ſays : truly, The Puniſhment conſtantly follows the Sin; or rather indeed, as Heſiod yet more nicely obſerves, They are Twin-Children, and come into the World together. Now the Caſe of Virtue is juſt the Re- verſe of This; It gratifies, and ſooths us; leaves ſweet and pleaſing Remembrances behind: Fills us with inward Complacencies, ſecret Congratulations of our own Happineſs, and inexpreſſible Satisfaction, in having done what becomes us. This is the true Reward of a virtuous Mind, a Happineſs inherent and Eſſential to it. And the Applauſes, and Joys, and Tranſports of a Good Conſcience, as they are ſure to us, and cannot be withheld by any who en- vy, our Virtue, or our Fame; ſo are they likewiſe, to large, and full; ſo generous and noble, and ſuffi- cient, as may very well encourage, and ſatisfy us, during our continuance in this preſent World. That Vice is, above all things in the world, to be hatcd, abominated, and avoided, no body, that I know of, ever pretended to diſpute. But ſome Qug- ſtion may be made, whether we are obliged to be ſo general, and irreconcilable in our Hatred, that it ſhould be impoſſible for any Pleaſure or Advan- tage ſo deſirable to offer it ſelf, for the proſpect of which the committing of any Vice might not be al- lowable, at leaſt excuſable in us. Many * in- - €e Ch. 3. Integrity the Firſt Part of Wiſdom. 97. deed are but too apt to think, that there are ſeveral ſuch reſerved Caſes, wherein the common Rules of Morality may be very fairly diſpenſed with. And, if we allow the Advantage to be publick, the Wri- ters of Politicks make no doubt of it, (provided the proceedings be ſo qualified, as I ſhall have occa- ſion to adviſe, when I come to treat of the Virtue of Prudence in point of Government.) But ſome have not been content to reſtrain this Liberty to the neceſſities of State; but have enlarged its bounds be- yond their juſt extent; and given the ſame Allow- ance to the Private Pleaſure and Profit of ſingle Men. Now This is a thing not poſſible to be de- termined in favour of their Aſſertion, without the Caſe were ſtated in all its Circumſtances; and both the Perſon, the Quality of the Faët, and the Nature of the Advantage propoſed, particularly ſpecified. But otherwiſe, while we treat of the Matter ſimply, and abſtraćtedly, it is a general Rule, not only in r Religion, but in mere Morality too, That the pro- ſpect of no Advantage or Pleaſure whatſoever, will juſtify a Man in doing any thing Ill in it ſelf, or which is contrary to his Duty and Conſcience. Again ; It is paſt a doubt, that Sin and Wicked- neſs hath it not in its power to furniſh out Pieaſures and Satisfactions ſo ſolid and agreeable, as Wirtue and the Conſciouſneſs of one's own Sincerity, is able and wont to do; nay, it is moſt certain, that Wices are their own Tormentors, and execute ſevere Wengeance upon the Authors. But yet this is not univerſally, and in all Caſes true; and therefore it is neceſſary to make ſome diſtinction of Perſons and Circumſtances. Now Wickedneſs, and Wicked I 9. Whether all Sin beget Repentange. Men may be diſtributed into three ſorts. Some, ſºft, are perfeótly incorporated with Evil, they Reaſon themſelves into it; their Reſolutions and the whole Bent of their Wills are fixed entirely in its Intereſts; or elſe long Cuſtom hath got ſuch a perfect Maſtery - fi Over Of Wiſdom. Book II. over them, that they cannot Diſengage themſelves. Theſe miſerable Wretches are utterly abandoned; their very Underſtanding is vitiated, ſees, conſents to, and approves the Evil: And This uſually is the Caſe, when Vice and Debauchery meets with a . Strong and Vigorous Mind, and hath taken ſuch deep root in it, that it comes at laſt to be naturalized, and of a piece with it; all the Faculties are tinétu- i. red, it is corrupted throughout , and Vice ſo cloſely interwoven, as to become a part of its Temper and Conſtitution. Others, ſecondly, have their Intervals of Folly only; They are wicked now and then by fits, juſt as any violent Guſh of a Temptation di- ſturbs or puts them out of their Courſe; or ſome impetuous Paſſion drives them headlong upon the Rocks; ſo that theſe Men are ſurprized, and carried away forcibly, by a Current too ſtrong for them to ſtem. The Third ſort are betwixt theſe two Ex- tremes: They have a right Notion of Vice, conſi- der'd in it ſelf; and when they reflect upon their Fault abſtraćtedly, do ſeverely accuſe and condemn themſelves for it; and thus they differ from the Firſt Sort, who are advanced even to the deſperate degree of a good liking of Wickedneſs : But then they have not the violence or ſurprize of Paſſions or Temptations to qualify and extenuate their Crime; and in this reſpect they differ from the Second ſort too. But theſe Men go to work in cold blood, and with great deliberation; they weighCircumſtances,and drivea Bargain as it were; obſerve wellthelheinouſneſs of the Sin; and then put the Pleaſure or Profit it brings, into the contrary Scale; and thus they bar. ter away their Souls, and are content to be wicked at a certain Price , and for ſuch as they think a va- luable Conſideration. They lend themſelves to the Devil, for ſo much Intereſt to be paid for the uſe. of their Perſons; and are ſo fooliſh to think, that there is a great deal to be ſaid, in excuſe for ſuch a Commerce ' Ch. 3, Integrity the Firſt Part of Wiſdom. 99 # Commerce as this. Of this kind we may reckori : Extortion, and Oppreſſion, and Covetouſneſs for : Gain; and the Exceſſes and Debaucheries of Wine # and Women for the ſake of Pleaſure; and indeed * ſeveral other Sins committed upon occaſions, though they benot reigning and habitual; ſuch as Men think, º and conſult upon, and at laſt reſolve wrong; where the Will is manifeſtly concerned, or where the Com- flexión of the Man is apt, againſt his Reaſon and better Senſe, to determine him. - Now the Firſt of theſe Three ſorts are paſt repent- 26: tº ing by ordinary Means, and nothing leſs than an Thºſ. Thr ºf unuſual, and almoſt miraculous Impreſſion from comparts. Heaven can be ſuppoſed to reclaim them. For they * (as the Apoſtle expreſſes it) paſt feeling, and ºf timmit evil even with Greedineſs. The Stings and º Pickings of Wickedneſs are very ſharp and piercing indeed, but theſe Men's Conſciences are ſo tough º, and harden'd, that nothing can enter them. Be- | g ſdº, The Underſtanding, as was obſerved, is brought ºf Q'er to an Approbation of the thing; and ſo all Senſe of Remorſe muſt be loſt, which proceeds chiefly from acting againſt our better Judgment ; : The Soul is entirely corrupted, the Diſtinctions of * Good and Evil obliterated and worn away; and conſequently the Will can be under no follicitude to ſtrain, or refuſe. The Third ſort of Men, though they may appear in ſome meaſure to repent, and ºndemn themſelves, yet in reality, and properly ſºaking, they do not. Take the Fact by it ſelf, as matter unlawful and unbecoming, and ſo they diſ- º allow it; but view it dreſt up in all its gay Attire, ... with all the Circumſtances of Pleaſure and Profit, ... it recommend, and ſet it off, and you ſhall find ... in of another Opinion. They think the Advan- ... gº of their Sin, a ſufficient Compenſation for the $.” Guilt; and cannot be ſaid to repent of That, which had the full and free Conſent of their Reaſon and … H 2. Con- / ico - Of Wiſdom. Book II. Conſcience; and with which they are always ready to cloſe, as often as it ſhall proffer it ſelf upon the ſame Terms. So that in Truth the Second ſort ſeem to be the only perſons, that are ſeriouſly concerned to repent, and reform. And ſince we are now upon the mention of Repentance, I ſhall take this oppor- tunity to ſay one word upon that Subject. 2 I. Repentance, is a Diſpoſition, or rather an Aćt of Rºpentance. the Will, whereby the Man diſclaims, and ſo far as in him lies, undoes again what he had done before. It is a Grief and Sadneſs of Heart, but differing in this one reſpect from all other Pains and Paſſions of that kind, ariſing from external Cauſes, That Rea- ſon begets, and heightens This, whereas it mitigates and expels Thoſe. Repentance is wholly internal; the Ground and Foundation of it is from within, and upon that account it is more violent than any other: As the Cold of Agues and Heat of Fevers is more fierce and inſupportable to the Patient, than any, which is ever occaſioned by Objects from with- out. Repentance is the Phyſick of the Soul; the Death of Vice; the only Health of Wounded Con- ſciences, and Depraved Wills. But though all Man- kind muſt agree in the Excellent Effects and Com- mendations of the thing, yet many miſtake it; and therefore good care ſhould be taken to diſtinguiſh aright, and be perfectly informed in this matter. As Firſt ; There are ſome ſorts of ſin, of which Men very hardly, and ſeldom repent; as was ob- ſerved juſt now concerning old inveterate Vices, ſuch as Cuſtom hath made in a manner natural and neceſſary, and the Corruption of the Judgment hath given Authority to , by determining in their Favour. For while a Man continues under the power of ſuch Habits, and the Blindneſs of ſuch an erroneous Choice; the ſenſe of his Mind is with him; and he feels no Check or Reluctancy at all; ſo that Repentance, which implies ſuch Régret, is (uſually Ch. 3. Integrity the Firſt Part of Wiſdom. 1 on (uſually ſpeaking ) terminated in Accidental and Occaſional Miſcarriages; the ſudden and ſurprizing Faults, where there is not leiſure for Deliberation to interpoſe; or the Violent Sallies of Paſſion, where the Judgment is over-power'd, and under ſome Con- ſtraint to do amiſs. Another ſort of things there are, which a Man cannot be ſaid with any Truth Or Propriety of Speech to repent of ; and thoſe are, Such as are out of a Man's own Power: At theſe in- deed we may conceive a Juſt Indignation, or be much concerned , and extremely ſorry for them; but we Cannot be ſaid to Repent of them, becauſe This im- Pies not only Sorrow, but the blaming and con- demning our ſelves, and failing in what we might have done better. Nor does That diſpleaſure of Mind deſerve this Name, which proceeds from the diſappointment of our Expectations, or Events con- s tiary to our Wiſhes and Intentions. We laid, as we thought, a very wiſe Project, and had a very fair Proſpect of Sücceſs; but Matters have happen'd quite otherwiſe, than we imagined it likely or poſſi- be for them to do; and ſome unforeſeen Accident flºps in betwixt, and blaſts the whole Deſign. Now Pray, What is all this to the Matter in hand 2 or what ground can here poſſibly be for Repentance 2 The Deſign, and the Method, were well and juſtly contrived; every wiſe and good Man would have taken the ſame Courſe. You have done your Duty; but you have not ſucceeded in it. And is that any ſult of Yours? You adviſed well, and proceeded - *gularly; and this is the utmoſt Man can do. For We can neither command Events, nor have any po- ise knowledge before-hand what they will be: he Uncertainty of the Iſſue is the foundation of all ºudence and good Conduct, for were This fixt and Oreknown, no place could be left for Deliberation and Management; And therefore there is not a §eater weakneſs, nor a more unreaſonable pretence H 3 i II 1 or Of Wiſdom. Book 11. in the world, either for tormenting our ſelves, oren- tertaining meaner thoughts of others, than Want of . Succeſs. Advice, and Condućt are by no means to . be judged by the Event; for there is an unſeen, and an unaccountable Providence, that directs all the Chances, that ſometimes defeats the wiſeſt, and proſpers the weakeſt and moſt unpromiſing Coun- : ſels and Undertakings. Again; Repentance is not, as ſome fondly ſuppoſe, that Change of Mind , . which proceeds from Old Age, Impotence, want of . Opportunity, or want of Inclination , or any ſuch Diſreliſh, as either Satiety and Exceſs, or a natural Alteration of Palate, brings upon us. For there is a mighty Difference between forſaking Vice, and being forſaken of it; between denying our Appe- tites when they are keen and eager; and gratifying them by a pleaſing Abſtinence from what they are cloyed with already. Beſides, To like anything the worſe upon theſe accounts , is really a Corruption of, and a Reflection upon our Judgment. For the things are ſtill the ſame; the ſame Approbation, or the ſame Diſlike , was due to them heretofore, no leſs than now; All the Change is in our Selves only, and that too is a Change in no degree voluntary or choſen, but purely neceſſary or accidental, the effect of Age or Sickneſs. We ſpeak moſt improperly , when we ſay that a Man is grown wiſer or better in ſuch caſes; for all the Reformation, that proceeds from humour or diſcontent; from diſreliſh or diſ. ability; is Fear, and Phlegm, Coldneſs, and Liſt- leſsneſs. There is oftentimes not the leaſt of Real Conviction, or any Principle of Conſcience in it. And ſure a feeble Body is a very unfit Conveyarice, to carry us to God, and drive us to Repentance and our Duty. For true Repentance is ſomewhat very different from all this; it is a particular Gift of God, by which we grow wife in good earneſt; a Remorſe. which checks our hotteſt Career, even in the mid it Ch. 3. Integrity the Firſt Part of Wiſdom. Io; of Sprightlineſs and Courage; and this is what muſt be created and cheriſhed in us, not by the want of opportunities, or of power to uſe them, not by the weakneſs of a Body broken, and worn out, and grown unſerviceable to Vice any longer; but by the Strength of Reaſon and Thought, and the better conſideration of a Reſolute and Vigorous Mind. For nothing more argues Greatneſs of Soul, than the Correcting our former Follies, and Steadineſs in anew Courſe of Life; notwithſtanding all the Diffi- culties andDiſcouragements of an entireReformation. Now One fruit of true Repentance, is a frank, 22. and conſcientious Confeſſion of one's Faults; This of cºnfſ. is uſually the Sign, the Conſequence, and in ſome ſing and Caſes ſo neceſſary a Qualification, that all Profeſſi- ; : ons of Penitence without it are Hypocritical and “” vain. It is with the Mind in theſe Reſpects, as with our Bodies. For, as in Bodily Diſtempers there are two ſorts of Remedies made uſe of, One, that make a perfect Cure, by going to the very Root, and removing the Cauſe of the Diſeaſe; Another, which only ſooth the Patient, conſult his preſent Eaſe; and are properly termed Quieting Medicines; and, as in this caſe, that former Application is much more painful, but withal more powerful and ef- fectual, and better for the perſon, than the latter; So likewiſe in the Wounds and Sickneſſes of the Soul, the true Remedy is of a ſearching and a cleanſing quality; and This is ſuch an Acknowledg- ment of our Faults, as is full of Seriouſneſs and Shame; a being content to take the Scandal, and the Folly of them upon our ſelves. But there is ano- ther deceitful Remedy, which only covers, and diſ- guiſes them; its deſign is not to heal, ſo much as to conceal the Diſeaſe; and this conſiſts in Extenuati- ons, and Excuſes; from whence we commonly ſay, That Wickedneſs makes it ſelf a Garmcut , to cºver its own Shame. This is a Remedy invented by the All- H 4 thor 104 Of Wiſdom. Book II. thor of Evil himſelf; and it anſwers the Malice of his Nature and his purpoſes, by rendring the Party ſo much the worſe, and obſtructing the Methods of his Recovery. Such were the Shifts, and Shufflings, ſuch the Covering of their Nakedneſs, which the Firſt Tranſgreſſors made; the Fig-leaves and the Excuſes were both alike, and made the Matter but ſo much the worſe, while they laboured to mend it. We ſhould therefore by all means learn to accuſe our ſelves; and get that neceſſary Conqueſt over our Pride and Self-love, as frankly and fully to con- feſs the very worſt of our Thoughts and Aëtions, and not allow our ſelves in any reſerves of this kind. For, beſides, that this would beget a brave and generous Openneſs of Soul; it would likewiſe be a wonderful Check, and effectual Preſervative, againſt all ſuch Aétions and Thoughts, as are not fit to be publickly known, and what a Man would be aſhamed of, if they were ſo. For He that obliges himſelf to tell all he does, will be ſure to take care not to do any thing which ſhall need to be con- cealed. But alas! the Common Pračtice of this naughty World is the direét contrary to the Advice I am giving. Every Man is diſcreet, and modeſt, and ſecret in the Confeſſing; but bold, and free from all reſtraint, in the Committing part. For as indeed the Confidence and Hardineſs of the Crime, would be very much curbed and abated; ſo likewiſe would it be in ſome meaſure compenſated, by an equal frankneſs and hardineſs in the accuſing of our Selves, and acknowledging what we have done amiſs. For whatever Indecency there may be in do- ing an ill thing, not to dare to confeſs our ſelves in the wrong, is ten thouſand times more odious and baſe. To this purpoſe we may obſerve, that there are ſeveral Inſtances of Perſons eminent for Piety, and Learning; ſuch as St. Auguſtin, Origen, Hippo- crates, and the like; who have taken pains ". adulº Ch. 4. The Second Point of Wiſdom. 1 of abuſe the World, and to publiſh Books, wherein they confeſs and retract their own Miſtakes and erroneous Opinions; and well were it, if People could be brought to ſuch a Degree of Sincerity, as to do the ſame in point of Morals, and Misbehaviour. Where- as now, they oftentimes incur a greater Guilt, by endeavouring to hide and ſmother a leſs; for a publick premeditated Lye ſeems to Carry ſome Aggravations along with it, which render it more abominable and more Wicious, than ſome other Facts commit- ted in ſecret; though theſe be ſuch as in their own Nature, are apt to raiſe a greater Abhorrence and Deteſtation in us. All This does but inflame the Reckoning; it either makes the firſt Fault worſe, or adds a ; one to it; and in either caſe the Guilt of the Man is not abated, but increaſed ; and whe- ther we count this Increaſe by way of Addition, or of Multiplication, the Matter comes all to one. w C H A P. IV. The Second Fundamental Point of Wiſdom. The Fixing to one's ſelf a particular End, and then chalking out ſome determinate Track, or Courſe of Life; which may be proper for leading us to that End. Fter having ſpoken ſo largely concerning this * \ firſt Fundamental Point, the Real and Hearty Sincerity, upon which Wiſdom muſt be built, we are now led to ſay ſome ſmall matter of the Second Prediſpoſition, which is alſo neceſſary in order to living prudently and well. And That is, the Pitch- -— 1ng I. 106 Of Wiſdom. Book II. 2. This no ea- # watter. ing upon, and Drawing out to one's ſelf ſome deter- minate Method or Courſe of Life, that we may not live at large, and at random ; but betake our ſelves to ſome particular ſort of Buſineſs, or Profeſſion, which may be proper and convenient for us. My meaning is, ſuch as a Man's own Temper and Na- tural Diſpoſition qualifies him for, and applies it ſelf chearfully to ; (with this Caution only, that, while we follow our own Nature in particular, there be a conſtant Regard had to the Dićtates of Human Na- ture in general, which is and ought to be the Great, the General , the Governing Miſtreſs of us all, as you were told in the laſt Chapter.) For Wiſdom is a gentle and regular Management of our Soul, that moves and acts in due meaſure and proportion, and conſiſts in a conſtant Evenneſs of Life, and Con- ſiſtency of Behaviour. It muſt then of neceſſity be a matter of very great moment, to manage our ſelves well in making this _Choice; with regard to which People behave them- ſelves very differently, and ačt with great confuſion, and perplexity; by reaſon of the great variety of Conſiderations, and Motives, which they are influ- enced with; and Theſe many times ſuch as interfere, and confound one another. Some indeed are very fortunate in this Choice, and proceed with great Alacrity and Succeſs; and theſe are ſuch, as either by reaſon of a particular Happineſs in their Nature, found no great difficulty in diſcerning and chufing what was moſt proper for their purpoſe; or elſe by ſome lucky hit, which ſpared them the trouble of any great deliberation, are thrown into their own Element; ſo that Fortune hath choſen for them, and fixed them right; or elſe the friendly aſſiſtance and diſcreet care of ſome Friends, who had the ad– viſing , or the diſpoſal of them , hath conducted them in this weighty Affair, to the beſt Advantage- Others Ch. 4. The Second Point of Wiſdom. 1 oz. Others again are in the contrary Extreme, the moſt unhappy and ill-ſuited with their Circumſtan- ces, that can poſſibly be imagined. They made a falſe Step at firſt, and have never been able to re- trieve it ſince. Either they wanted the Judgment to know themſelves, or the diligence and care which was neceſſary, to take right Meaſures, or to think better, and knock off in time, when they found they had taken wrong. For the beſt thing left for Them to do , had been to recede quietly; whereas for want of this prudent retiring, they find them- ſelves afterwards engaged too far, and beyond all poſſibility of a Retreat. Which being now cut off, they are forced to drudge on, through infinite In- conveniences; and lead a Life made up of nothing elſe, but Trouble and Conſtraint, Repentance and Diſcontents. * . . . . . But then This frequently happens too, from ſome failure in the perſon, that deliberates about it, and confiders amiſs; as well as from the Ignorance or the Raſhneſs, of ſuch as conſider very little, or not at all. And That may be, from a Man's miſtaking his own Genius, or Capacity; and thinking too highly of his own Abilities. And when upon theſe #. Preſumptions he hath undertaken any thing above his management, the Conſequence of it is ; Either to lay it down again with Diſgrace; Or elſe to live in perpetual pain, and torment, by obſtinately per- fiſting in an Attempt too much for him. We ſhould always remember, that he that lifts a Burden, muſt be ſtronger than his Burden; for elſe there is no re- medy, but he muſt let alone, what he cannot carry; or fink under the weight of it. And a wiſe Man will always be Maſter of his own Buſineſs, and not undertake more than it is poſſible for him to diſ- atch. - p There is alſo another Obſtrućtion of this kind, no leſs common and fatal, than the Former; which is a ſtrange 108 Of Wiſdom. Book II. . 3 a ſtrange Levity of Temper, that neverſticks to any hing, but is every day forming ſome new Project; Thus we ſee abundance of People that are never pleaſed or ſatisfied with any thing; every thing gives them uneaſineſs and diſcontent; Tired of . Buſineſs, and Sick of Leiſure; Governing and being Governed makes them equally reſtleſs, and they can neither lead nor follow quietly. Such Creatures as theſe are doom'd to Wretchedneſs irrecoverable; for they are always under Conſtraint, and Miſery; every thing they do is grievous, and againſt the grain : And, which adds yet more to their Unhappineſs, they can never reſt in quiet, but are always in mo- tion and buſtle, and all the while without any deſign; conſtantly buſy , and nothing done ; Whereas the Aétions of a wiſe Man have al- ways ſome Aim , to direct and determine them. * And you muſt know 'tis no ſmall commendation for a Man to be conſtantly the ſame; for all of us are of a thouſand different forms and ſhapes , and mone but the Wiſe Man is all of a piece. But the greater part of Mankind never beſtow any ſerious thought upon the matter; and if you ask why they are of this Profeſſion rather than any other, the only account they are able to give is, that their Father was of it, or that they took a ſudden fancy to it; they are carried by Inſtinét, or Con- ſtraint, their own blind inclination, or the Autho- rity of Friends and Relations. And as they enga- ged in it without Thinking, ſo they are at a loſs how to diſengage again. Now in order to a Man's managing himſelf in this Affair as he ought; that both his Choice may be wiſely made, and the Diſcharge of the Employment "Magnam rem putaunum hominem agere; praeter ſapientenn nemo unum agit, multiformes ſumus, he Ch. 4. The Second Point of Wiſdom. 109 he hath choſen, may prove ſucceſsful; there are Two things which require a very particular Conſide- ration ; and theſe are, The true Nature and Con- dition, both of Himſelf, and of his Buſineſs. 1. Firſt, It is abſolutely requiſite, he ſhould be perfectly well acquainted with his own Mind; the Conſtitution, Inclination, Capacity, and Temper of Soul and Body both ; Wherein it is, that his Ex- cellency lies; and Which are his weak and blind Sides: What he is qualified for , and of What he is uncapable, or leſs diſpoſed to. For a Man that goes againſt Nature, does in effect tempt God, and bid defiance to Providence; he cuts himſelf out a great deal of work, which he can never finiſh; and by breaking that known Rule, of f attempting mothing which we cannot maſter; expoſes himſelf to Scorn and Deriſion, and becomes the Jeſt of all that know him. 2. After this Knowledge of himſelf, it is, in the next place, as neceſſary, that he ſhould be acquaint- ed with his Buſineſs; that is, with That Employ- ment, or Truſt, or particular Condition of Life, which he propoſes to fix in. For there are ſome Profeſſions incumbred with Matters of great diffi- culty ; Others of vaſt importance; a Third ſort, that expoſe us to Danger; and a Fourth, where the Buſineſs, though it be not of any mighty Conſe- quence, is yet extremely intricate and perplexed; and involves a Man in a world of Trouble and Care, and other Affairs that depend upon, or are interwoven with it. Now all Employments of this Nature do greatly haraſs and fatigue the Mind; and keep one's Thoughts always buſy and bent. Beſides, As the Buſineſs of each Profeſſion differs from the reſt, ſo do the Faculties and Parts, that qualify Men +Nec quidquam ſequi quod aſſequinequeas. for Of Wiſdom. Book II. for it. One requires Acuracy of Judgment; Ano- ther Livelineſs of Imagination; a Third, Strength of Memory; and a Man may be very eminent and commendable in himſelf; and yet ſpoil all, by being in a wrong way. Now what hath been formerly obſerved in the firſt Book, concerning the Parts and Faculties of the Mind in general, and the differing Temperaments of the Brain, may, I preſume, be of ſome uſe in this point; and, if judiciouſly applied, aſſiſt and direct Men toward the underſtanding, both the Nature of each Profeſſion, and Courſe of Life; and their own Fitneſs or Incapacity for it. For by examining firſt their own Diſpoſition, and then the State of Life they have thoughts of, and then con- fronting, and comparing theſe two together, they will ſoon diſcern, whether theſe will ever hit it, and agree long with each other; for agree they muſt, or no Good can be done: This will quickly ſhew Men, what they are to truſt to. For if it happen, that a Man be obliged to ſtruggle with his own Inclination, and muſt conquer, and commit a violence upon his Nature, to make it ſerviceable to his purpoſe, and capable of diſcharging the Employment he hath taken upon him ; Or on the other hand; if in obe- dience to Nature, and to gratify our Inclination, we are, either with our own conſent, or inſenſibly and againſt our Wills, trapann’d into a Courſe, that falls ſhort of our Duty, or runs counter to it; what mi- ſerable Confuſion and Diſorder muſt here needs be? How can we ever expect Evenneſs, under ſo much Force 3 Conſtancy from ſo much Conſtraint, or De- corum where every thing is againſt the Grain 2 For as is well obſerved; " If there be ſuch a thing as Decency * Si quicquam decorum, nihil profe&to magis, quam a quabi- liras Vitae univerſae & ſingularum ačtionum ; quam conſervare non poſſis, ſi aliorum imitans Naturam, omittas tuam. p * → in Ch. 4. The Second Point of Wiſdom. in the world, it is ſeem in nothing more than in an eaſineſs and conſiſtency both of one’s whole life in general, and of each particular Aëtion in it. And this Decorum can ne- ºver be maintain'd, if you live in conformity to other peo- ple's diſpoſitions, and have no regard to the following your own. There cannot be a vainer Imagination, than to ſuppoſe any thing can laſt long, or be well done, and eminently good in its kind, or that it can be- come a Man, or fit eaſy upon him, if there be not ſomewhat of Nature and Inclination in it. + Diſcern which way your Talent lies, Nor vainly ſtruggle with your Genius. Lord Roſcom. * That which is moſt a Man’s own , is always moſł graceful; And we muſt always take care ſo to order mat- terſ, as firſt to offer no Violence againſt Nature in general; and them to follow our own Genius in particular. But now, if it ſhould ſo fall out, that a Man, ei- ther through Misfortune, Imprudence, or any other Accident, ſhould perceive himſelf entred into a Pro- feſſion, and courſe of Life, full of Trouble, incon- venient, and improper; and that he is ſo deeply en- gaged too, that there is no poſſibility of changing, or getting quit of it; in this caſe, all that Wiſdom and good Condućt hath to do, is to reſolve upon ſupporting, and ſweetning it; keeping one's ſelf eaſy, and making the moſt of it: Like skilful Game- ſters, who when they have an ill Throw, mend it in the playing. For Plato's Counſel is beſt upon theſe occaſions, the bearing our Chance patiently, and managing it to all the Advantage an ill Bargain is + Tu nihil invità dices facieſve Minervä. Hor. Art. Post. * Id quemgue decet quod eſt ſuum maximè. Sic eſt ficien- dum, ut contra naturam univerſam nil contendamus; ea ſºr- vatā propriam ſequamur, capable Of Wiſdom. Book II. capable of You ſee what a Knack of this kind Na- ture hath given to ſome ſort of Creatures; when the Bees out of an Herb ſo rough and harſh and dry, as Thyme is, can extract ſo ſweet a Subſtance as Ho- ney. And This is ſuch an Excellence, as all thoſe wiſe and good Men Imitate, who manage Difficul- ties dextrouſly, and, as the Proverb expreſſes it, make a Virtue of Neceſſity. - C H A P. V. The Firſt Asi or Office of Wiſdom. The Study of, and ſerious Endeavour after True Piety. TH E neceſſary Preparations to Wiſdom, being thus explained in the former Chapters, which are in the manner of laying our Foundation, it may now be ſeaſonable to proceed to the Building it ſelf, and erect upon this Ground-work, the Rules and Precepts of Wiſdom. And here the Firſt, both in Order and Dignity, which offers itſelf to our Con- ſideration, concerns true Religion, and the Service of Almighty God. For certainly Piety ought to have the precedence of all Virtues, and is the higheſt and moſt honourable in the Scale of Duties; But the greater and more important it is, the more we are concerned to have a right notion of it; eſpecially, when to the infinite configuence of the thing, we add the danger of being miſtaken, and withal, how very common and eaſy it is, to deceive our ſeives in this point. Great need therefore we have of Cauri- c: and good Advice, that we may be truly informed, how | Ch. 5. The Study of True Piety. I 13 --- how the Man, who makes Wiſdom his Aim and Bu- | ſineſs, ought to manage himſelf upon this weighty occaſion. And the giving Direétions of this nature is the deſign of my preſent Diſcourſe; after I have firſt made a ſhort Digreſſion concerning the State and Succeſs of ſeveral ſorts of Religion in the World. Of which I ſhall chuſe to ſpeak but briefly here, and refer my Reader for farther Satisfaction, to what I have ſaid more at large to this purpoſe, in another Treatiſe of mine, called the Three Truths. And firſt of all, I cannot but take notice, how I. diſmal and deplorable a thing, the great Variety of Difference Religions is, which either now do, or formerly have ºf Keligions, obtained in the World. And, which is yet a greater misfortune and reproach, the Oddneſs of ſome of them; Opinions and Rites, ſo fantaſtical, ſo exor- bitant, that it is juſt matter of wonder and aſtoniſh- ment, which way the Mind of Man could ſo far degenerate into Brutality, and be ſo miſerably befor- ted with Frauds and Folly. For upon examination it will appear, that there is ſcarce any one thing ſo high or ſo low, but it hath been Deified; and even the vileſt and moſt contemptible parts of the Creati- on, have, in ſome quarter of the World or other, found People blind enough to pay them Divine Ho- nours, and Adoration. - / Now, notwithſtanding this Difference be really as vaſt, and as horrid, as I have intimated, or my Reader can imagine; yet there ſeem to be ſome Ge- neral Points in common, which, like Principles or fundamentals, are ſuch, as Moſt, if not All of them have agreed in. For however they may wander from one another, and take different Paths after- wards, yet they ſet cut alike, and walk hand in hand for ſome Conſiderable Time. At leaſt they appear, and affect to do ſo; the Devil transforning himſelf into an Angel of Light; and undermining the * I Yy 1 I 4 Of Wiſdom. Book II. by Mimicking it; as knowing that the moſt effectual Art to ſeduce Men is by contriving fair and plauſible Lies; and dreſſing up Wickedneſs in its moſt en- gaging Attire. To this purpoſe it is obſervable, that the moſt prevailing Perſuaſions have ſprung from the ſame Climate, and firſt drew breath in almoſt the ſame Air. Paleftime I mean and Arabia, which are Countries contiguous to one another. Some of their Firſt and main Principles are very near alike; ſuch as the Belief of one God, the Maker and Governor of all things; All own the Providence of God, and his Particular Love and Favour for Mankind; the Im- mortality of the Soul; a Reward in Reſerve for the Good; and terrible Puniſhments, which await the Wicked, even after this Life; ſome particular Profeſ- ſion, and ſet Form of Solemn and External Wor- ſhip, by which they put up their Prayers, invoke the Name of God, and think that a decent Honour, and acceptable Service and Homage is paid to the Divine Majeſty by ſo doing. To give theſe a bet- ter Countenance and greater Authority in the World, ſome of them really produce, and others pretend Revelations, Viſions, Propheſies, Miracles, Prodi- gies; Holy Myſteries, and eminent Examples of Saints, Perſons exemplary for their Piety, or Suffer- ings, or Doëtrine; and theſe Allegations, whether true or falſe, ſpeak the General and Natural Senſe of Mankind to agree in the expectations of Revelation from Heaven, and that Miracles are proper Atteſtati- ons of them. Each hath a particular Scheme of its own, which diſtinguiſhes the Receivers of it from Thoſe of different Perſwaſions, and impoſes certain Articles of Faith and Forms of Diſcipline; Some as t Terms of Communion, and Marks of Diſtinétion, and Others as neceſſary to be believ'd in order to Salva- tion. All of them have at firſt been weak, and low, and little regarded; but from thoſe ſlender Beginnings have by degrees gained ground upon the People, been Ch. 5. The Study of True Piety. 1 15 been inſinuated, received, applauded, and at laſt en- tirely ſubmitted to,by vaſt Multitudes; ſpread far and wide, and eſtabliſhed themſelves; as if Opinions ran like contagious Diſeaſes, and all that came with- in the Air of them, were ſure to catch the Infecti- on. And yet ſome of theſe owe all their Authority to Fićtions and Tricks ; inſomuch that even the abſurdeſt and moſt ſenſleſs of all Errors, have been embraced with as great Reverence and Devotion, and maintained with as much Stiffneſs and as Poſi- tive a Confidence, as the very Truth it ſelf. All of them do likewiſe agree in their Notions of Appea- fing God; and teach unanimouſly that Prayers, and 5. Promiſes and Vows, Days of Extraordi- nary Humiliation and Thankſgiving, are proper me- thods to incline his Ear, and obtain his Favour and ood Acceptance for our Perſons and our Requeſts; I believe, that the Principal and moſt pleaſing Ser- vice we can pay to God, the moſt powerful means of averting his Indignation, reconciling our ſelves, and becoming agreeable to him , is by giving one's ſelf ſome torment and trouble; by laying heavy Burdens upon our ſelves, and cutting out a great deal of work, the more difficult and contrary to our inclination, the better, and more meritorious. For what other account but this, can we give of thoſe infinite Profeſs'd Auſterities enjoin'd to particular Or- ders, the abundance of Fraternities, and Societies of Men, which in all Religions throughout the World, the Mahometan as well as Chriſtian, are devoted to fundry peculiar Exerciſes, full of Severity, and Diſci- pline; of Poverty and Pain; and Corporal Suffer- ings; even ſo far in ſome of them, as to ſcourge, and wound, and mangle their own Perſons 2 Theſe are obſerved to be more numerous, and differently in- ſtituted in Falſe Religions, than the True: And All this, from a ſtrong perſuaſion, that they merit by this Diſcipline and voluntary Cruelty; and are in I 2 pro- . 1 16 ~ Of Wiſdom. Book II. See the Notes. proportion ſo much better Men than Others, as they afflićt and torment themſelves more than They. An Imagination, which ſtill prevails, and ſuch as hu- man Nature is never like to get quit of; for we ſee every day freſh Inſtances, and new Inventions of this kind, and what induſtry Men uſe to be more ingenious and exquiſite, in contriving new ſorts of mortification and puniſhment. Now all this, I ſay, can be accounted for no other way, than by aſſign- ing it to an Opinion, that God takes delight, and is wonderfully pleaſed with the Sufferings and Ca- lamities of his Creatures: An Imagination, which to thoſe who think Sacrifices to have been of hu- man Invention, ſeems to have been the Ground of all that way of Worſhip, which, before the Chri- ſtian Religion made its Appearance in the world, was univerſally practiſed. Thus harmleſs Beaſts were butchered every where, and their Blood ſpilt, and poured out upon Altars, as a valuable Preſent to the Divinity; and thus too in ſome places (ſo prodigi- ous was the Infatuation of Mankind ) poor little innocent Children were barbarouſly tortured and murdered; and Grown Perſons, ſometimes Male- factors, and ſometimes Men of eminent Virtue and clear Reputation, were offered in Sacrifice; and this was the uſual Worſhip of almoſt all Nations, and looked upon, as one of the moſt ſolemn, and moſt acceptable Acts of Devotion. Thus the Old Getae in Scythia are ſaid, among other inſtances of Ado- ration and Honour paid to their God Zamolxi, to diſpatch a Man to him once in five years, to conſult and ſupplicate him in all things neceſſary for them. And, becauſe the Ceremony requires, that this Ad. vocate of theirs ſhould dye in an inſtant, and the manner of expoſing him to death, (which is the being pierced through with three Javelins) is ſome-s what doubtful in the Execution; therefore it often, happens, that ſeveral are thus diſpatched, before any OIlê Ch. 5. The Study of True Piety. 117 one wounds himſelf in a part ſo mortal, as to ex- pire immediately; and only He that does ſo, is eſteemed a Favourite of their God, and proper for that purpoſe; but all the reſt who dye ſlowly, are to be reječted, as unfit for this Sacrifice. Thus did the Perſians worſhip their Gods; as that ſingle fact of Ameſtris, the Mother of Xerxes, teſtifies; who, in agreement to the Principles of Religion then pre- wailing in that Country, did, as an Offering of Thanks for her own long and proſperous Life, bury fourteen young Perſons of Quality alive, Branches of the Nobleſt Families in the whole Kingdom. So likewiſe did the ancient Gaul, and Carthaginians, among whom young Children were Sacrificed to Sa- turn, and that with ſo remorſleſs a Zeal, that even the Fathers and Mothers uſed to be preſent, and aſ- ſiſting at the Ceremony. Thus the Lacedemonians ſought to ingratiate themſelves with their Goddeſs Diana, by ſcourging their young Men in Complai- ſance to her; nay, doing it with ſuch Rigor, that they expired under it; for the Sacrifice of Iphigénia ſhews, that ſhe was worſhipped with human Blood. The Inſtance of the two Decij proves, that the Re- mans were poſſeſt with the ſame Imagination too; which gave occaſion for this Reflection in one of their Writers; * What ſtrange Provocation could make the God; ſo extremely hard and ſevere, that there was no way of reconciling them to the People of Rome, unleſs the Atonement were made by the blood of ſuch gallant Men? Thus, the Mahometans, who ſlaſh and cut their Faces, their Breaſts, and other Members, to recommend themſelves to their Prophet; and the people in our new Diſcoveries of the Eaſt and Weſt-Indies, and at Themiſłitan, where they cement the Images of their * Quae fuit tanta iniquitas Deorum, ut placari Pop. Rom, nºn poſſint, niſi tales virioccidiſſent & I 3 Gods, 1 18 Of Wiſdom. Book II. 3. And others wherein they differ. Gods, with Children's Blood. Now what Madneſs, what Stupidity is this, to ſuppoſe, that Inhuman Aétions can ever gain upon the Divine Nature; that the Goodneſs of God is requited, or decently ac- knowledged by our own Sufferings; or that Barba- - rity can be a proper Method of ſatisfying his angry Juſtice As if Juſtice could thirſt after human Blood, or feaſt it ſelf upon the Innocent lives, that are ſpilt with infinite torture, and the moſt exquiſite pain. # At this rate the Gods are fond of expiations which even Men abominate; and the Mercy of Heaven is purchaſed with ſuch Barbarities, as all Nature ſtarts at. Whence could ſo wild a fancy as this, a fancy ſo di- ſtant from all the Juſt Ideas and Perfections of God ſpring up, that he takes a pleaſure in the miſery of human nature, and the ruin, or at leaſt the torment : and damage of his own Workmanſhip 2 What can be more impious or extravagant, and how monſtrous a Being does ſuch a Belief as This, make of God? . And how juſtly does the Dočtrine of Chriſt com- mand our Reverence and Eſteem, which hath abo- liſhed all ſuch Worſhip, and rectified Mens Notions in this matter? - Now as All, or Moſt Religions have been ſhewed to have ſome Principles in common, wherein they are agreed, ſo have they likewiſe Others, peculiar to themſelves; Certain Articles, which are the Cha- raćters, and, as it were, the Boundaries of their Re- ſpective Communions; and ſerve to ſeparate and di- ſtinguiſh the many Sečts and Profeſſions from one another. With regard to Theſe it is, that the Men of every Religion prefer themſelves above all the World beſides; that they affirm, with great aſſurance, their own Perſuaſion to be the beſt, the pureſt, the moſt f Ut ſic Dij placentur, quemadmodum ne homines quidem * - iæVluſit. Crtho- | Ch. 5. The Study of True Piety. I 19 l Qrthodox of any; and, as another means of magni- fying themſelves, are eternally reproaching thoſe that differ from them, with Errors and Corruptions; and by this means they are eternally employed too in creating Breaches, or in widening and keeping open ſuch as are already made; by the mutual S㺠allowance and Condemnation, which every Party is perpetually declaring againſt the Notions of every other Party; and repreſenting all Syſtems, but their own, to be falſe and dangerous, and by no means to be admitted. But, Bleſſed be God, We Chriſtians need be in no pain in the midſt of this Variety and Conteſt. Our Religion having the Advantages of all others, both in point of Authentick and unqueſtionable Teſtimony, and in other Excellencies peculiar to it ſelf. This I have demonſtrated at large in the Se- cond of my Three Truths, and ſhewed the manifeſt Preeminence due to it. Now One thing is very worthy our Obſervation in this general Strife; and That is the Advantage, which Time and Succeſſion have given in this mat- ter. For we ſhall find, that in proportion as One Religion hath been of a later date than another, ſo it hath gained ſomewhat from that which came into the World before it, and the Younger hath always built and raiſed it ſelf upon the Elder; more parti- cularly upon that, which was next of all before it in Order and Time. And the method of effecting this hath been,not by diſproving or º all that went before in the groſs and at once; for upon theſe terms it could never have found entertainment, or got any manner of Footing with people ſo pre- poſſeſſed; but the Courſe hath been, to accuſe what was formerly received, of ſome defect or Inſuffici- ency; alledging that the Inſtitution was imperfect in it ſelf; or that it was only Temporary; and the Term, for which it was calculated, then expired ; I 4 and 4. The later are built apon the former and 7more an. :- €77t. | 2 O Of Wiſdom. Book II. and therefore this New Additional one was neceſſary to ſucceed in the place of an aboliſhed, and to com- pleat an unfiniſhed Religion. And thus by degrees the New one riſes upon the Ruins of the Old, and is enriched by the Spoils of its vanquiſh'd Predeceſ- for; As we know the caſe hath plainly ſtood with the jewiſh Religion, when it prevailed over the Pa- gam and Egyptian way of Worſhip; the fewiſh peo- ple not being to be brought off from the Cuſtoms of that Country all at once : And afterwards the Chriſtian Faith and Promiſes, when they triumphed over the jewiſh Privileges and Moſaical Diſpenſation; and ſince that, the ſame Pretence hath been made uſe of to advance Mahumetiſm upon the foyiſh and Chriſtian Religion taken together. Each of theſe hath retained ſomething of the Religion it pretend- ed to diſpoſſeſs; and built upon Old Toundations : But none ſo much as the Mahometan ; which pro- fºſſes to perſiſt , and be fully perſuaded in All the Doctrines of Jeſus Chriſt, ſave only that Great and mºſt important one, which aſſerts his Divinity. So that he who would paſs from fudaiſm to Mahometa- miſm, muſt take Chriſtianity in his way. And we are told, there have been ſome Mahometams, who have expoſed themſelves to Sufferings and Torture, in defence of the Chriſtian Truths; as a Chriſtian likewiſe upon his own Principles would be bound to do, in vindication of the Authority, and Dočtrines of the Old Teſtament. But now if we caſt our Eyes upon the more Ancient ſort of Inſtitutions, we ſhall find them dealing after a very different manner with the New , which (as I ſaid ) in part allow , and only profeſs to improve and refine upon Them. For They rejećt and condemn Them intirely, give them no quarter, but cry out upon them for Inno- vations, and look upon every thing of later date than themſelves, as a mortal and irreconcilable Ene- aly to the Truth; as if after the Period of their - own Ch. 5. The Study of True Piety. I 2 I own Eſtabliſhment, Time could from thenceforth produce none but monſtrous Births; and all, who did not ſit down and ſtick there, muſt be inevitably abandoned to Falſhood and Corruption. This I think may be farther affirmed to be a Qua- lification common to all Religions whatſoever; that they are, every one, in Some Points uncouth and fo- reign from the CommonSenſe and apprehenſions of Mankind. And the Reaſon ſeems to be, that They all of them propound to our Conſideration and Be- lief, and are Syſtems conſiſting of, and built upon, Points of a very diſtant kind from Common Senſe. For Some of them, when weighed in the Balance of human Judgment, appear to be exceeding mean, and low, and contemptible; ſuch as a Man of Wit, and Vigorous Thought, finds himſelf rather tempted to ridicule and expoſe, than to pay any Reverence to them : And Others again are ſo exceeding ſublime, the Luftre of them ſo ſtrong, the Nature of them ſo full of Miracle and Myſtery, that, as Finite Cau- ſes could never effect, ſo finite Underſtandings can never comprehend them fully; and at Theſe the Men 5 - All of them uncouth to Nature. { of Diſcourſe and Demonſtration take offence, and will allow nothing to be credible, which is not in- telligible. Whereas in Truth, the Sphere in which the human Intellect moves and acts, is placed be- tween theſe two Extremes. For we are capable but of ſuch things as lye in a middle State, and are of a moderate proportion. Theſe only are of a ſize with our Souls, They fit us, and therefore They Only pleaſe and are eaſy to us. Thoſe of a lower Rank we look down upon with Indignation and Scorn ; and thoſe of a higher Condition are too weighty and bulky for us; they create Wonder and Amaze- ment only; and therefore the wonder ought not to be great, if the Mind of Man recoil again, and ſhew a diſreliſh againſt all Religion; ſince in All there is ſo very little of ſuch Doctrine as is agreeable º t!}{2 I 2. Of Wiſdom. Book II. 1 Cor. I. 23- the common Temper and Capacity of Mankind ; - but the principal Points of Faith and Worſhip are in one of the forementioned Extremes, and thoſe of Pračtice diſtant, either from common Uſe, or from general Inclination. Hence it comes to paſs, that the Men of ſtrong Parts have ſo often deſpiſed Religion, and expoſed it to the Deriſion of the World; and thoſe of Weak and Superſtitious Minds are confounded and ſcandalized at it. This was St. Paul's Complaint in the firſt planting of the Chriſtian Faith; We preach feſus Chrift crucified, to the jews a Stumbling-block , and to the Greeks Fooliſh- meſ. And this indeed is the very Reaſon, why we find ſo much Prophaneneſs and Irreligion; ſo much Error and Hereſy, in the World. Some believe not at all, and others believe amiſs, becauſe they conſult their own Judgment only, and hearken to no other Guide, but the Dićtates of human Reaſon. They bring matters of Religion to the ſame Trial with other common matters, and will needs undertake to examine, and meaſure, and judge of them, by the Standard of their own Capacity; They treat this Divine, like other Common and merely Human Sci- ences and Profeſſions; expecting to maſter, and pe- netrate to the bottom of it, by the ſtrength of Na- tural Parts. But This is not the way of dealing with Divine Truths; A Man's Affections muſt be qualifi- ed and diſpoſed for theſe Doctrines. They require Simplicity and Honeſty; meekneſs of Temper, an humble and obedient Mind. Theſe only can fit a Man for receiving Religion; For he that does ſo in good earneſt, muſt believe its Declarations, ſubmit to its Laws, and govern himſelf by them, with Re- verence and Reſignation of Soul. In ſhort, he muſt be content that his own Judgment ſhould be over- ruled by the Word of God; and to live and be led by univerſal Conſent and Authority; which ſeems to be the Subjećtion intended by the Apoſtle, when he Ch. 5. The Study of True Piety. 1 2 3 he ſpeaks of "Cafting down Imaginations (or Reaſon- ings, ) and every high thing that exalteth it ſelf againſ? the knowledge of God, and bringing into Captivity every Thought to the obedience of Faith. And, however the Conceited or Unthinking part of the World may quarrel at this method, yet it 2 Corx. 5. 6. Reaſon good was certainly a great Inſtance of the Divine Wiſ hºſhºuld dom, to order the matter thus. For ſuch a proceed- ing ſeems highly neceſſary, in order to preſerve that Admiration and Reſpect, which is due to Religion; and which, upon any other Terms, would very hard- ly have been paid to it. For Religion ought to be entertained and embraced with Holy Reverence, and great Authority; and therefore with ſome de- gree of Difficulty too. For Reaſon and Experience may ſoon convince us, that if it were in every Cir- cumſtance ſuited to the Palat, and of a ſize with the natural Apprehenſions, of Mankind; if it carried nothing at all of Miracle or Myſtery in it; as it would be more eaſily, ſo likewiſe it would be leſs reſpectfully, received. . And ſo much as you bring it nearer to the Level of common Matters, ſo much you certainly abate of that Regard it ought to have, above all other matters whatſoever. Now, ſince all Religions and Schemes of Belief are, or pretend to be what I have here deſcribed; foreign from, and far above the Common Senſe and Capacity of Mankind; they muſt not, they cannot be received, or take poſſeſſion of us by any human and natural means. (For had the Caſe been thus, the moſt exalted Minds would have been in proportion eminent for Religion, and ſo many Men of Wit and Judgment in Other things, could never have been defective here ), but theſe Notions muſt needs have been conveyed into Mens Minds, by ſu- "Captivantes intelle&tum ad obſequium Fidei. pernatural 7. Why they are 710t to be received by human 77/647/J. I 24 Of Wiſdom. Book II. Gal. I. 1, I 2. 8. But yet ſo they are. pernatural and extraordinary Methods, by Revelati- on from Heaven; and The perſons that receive and imbibe them, muſt needs have them by the ſecret Teachings and Inſpiration of God. And thus you find, that All who believe, and profeſs Religion, ſay; for all of them do in effect aſſume to themſelves that Declaration of the Apoſtle; Not of Men, neither by Man, nor of any other Creature, but of God. But, if we lay aſide all Flattery and Diſguiſe, and ſpeak freely to the Point, there will be found very little, or nothing at the bottom of all theſe mighty Boaſtings. For, whatever Men may ſay or think to the contrary, it is manifeſt, that all ſorts of Re- ligion are handed down and received by human Me- thods. This Obſervation is true in its very utmoſt Senſe and Extent, of all Falſe and Counterfeit Per- ſuaſions; for Theſe when ſearch'd to the bottom, are no better than Diabolical Deluſions, or Human In- ventions: But True Religion, as it is derived down to us from a Higher Original, ſo it moves us by other Springs, and is received after a very different manner. And here, to get a right underſtanding of this matter, we muſt 㺠between the Firſt Publication of the Truth, that Reception, which made it general, and gave it a Settlement in the World; and that Particular One, by which private Perſons embrace and come into it, when already eſtabliſhed. The Former of Theſe which firſt fix’d this Heavenly Plant, was altogether Miraculous and Divine; and agrees punétually with the Evangeliſt's account, The Lord working with the Apoſtles and Preachers, and confirming the Word with Signs following. But the Latter muſt be acknowledged in great mea- ſure Human, and private Mens Faith and Piety to be wrought by common and Ordinary Means. This ſeems to be ſufficiently plain, firſt, from the Manner of Religion's getting ground in the World, and that, whether we regard the firſt general planting of any - - Per- Ch. 5. The Study of True Piety. 125 Perſuaſion, or the method of its gaining now upon private perſons. For, whence is the daily Increaſe of any Sect? Does not the Nation to which we be- long, the Country where we dwell, nay the Town, or the Family in which we were born, commonly give us our Religion ? We take that which is the growth of the Soil; and whatever we were born in the midſt of, and bred up to, that Profeſſion we ſtill keep. We are Circumciſed, or baptized, fews, or Chriſtians, or Mahometams, before we can be ſenſible that we are Men; So that Religion is not the Gene- rality of People's Choice, but their Fate; not ſo much their own Aćt and Deed, as the Aét of Others for and upon them. The Man is made a Member of the jewiſh or Chriſtian Communion without his Knowledge, becauſe he is deſcended of jewiſh or Chriſtian Parents, and in a Country where this or that Perſuaſion obtains moſt. And would not this, do you think, have been his Caſe, if born in any other part of the World 2 Would not the ſame per- ſon have been a Pagan, or Mahometam, if born where Heathen Idolatry, or Mahumetiſm prevailed 2 But now as to the Obſervance, and living up to the Pre- cepts of Religion; Thoſe who are True and Pious Profeſſors, beſides the external Profeſſion of the Truth, they have the Advantage of the Gifts and Graces of God, the Aſſiſtance and Teſtimony of the Holy Ghoſt, common to all, and from which, even the miſtaken are not utterly excluded. This indeed is a Privilege, which (bleſſed be God) is ca- pable of being very uſual and frequent, and many great Pretenſions and pompous Boaſts are made of Se: the Nefef. it. But yet I vehemently ſuſpect, notwithſtanding all the fair ſhew, and plauſible pretences Men make of this kind, This Grace and Spirit is not ſo largely and ſo commonly enjoyed, nor ſo ſtrong in its In- fluences and Effects, as Some would have us believe. For ſurely were This ſo powerful in us, and were Religion 126 Of Wiſdom. Book II. Matth. xvii. 20. Religion our own free Choice, and the Reſult of our own Judgment, the Life and Manners of Men could not be at ſo vaſt a diſtance and manifeſt diſ- agreement from their Principles; nor could they, upon every ſlight and common occaſion, act ſo di- rectly contrary to the whole Tenor and Deſign of their Religion. And this Inconſiſtence of Faith and Manners, is alſo a Proof, that our Faith is not from God; for were this planted and faſten’d in our Minds by ſo powerful a hand as His , it could not be in the power of any Accident or Temptation to jhake, or unſettle us; ſo firm and ſtrong a Band could not ſo eaſily be broken or burſt through. Were there the leaſt Touch, the ſmalleſt Ray of Divine Illumination, This Light would ſhine in every action of our lives, and dart itſelf into every corner of our Souls; The Effects of it would appearin all our beha- viour, and not only be ſenſible, but wonderful and amazing too, according to what Truth himſelf ſaid upon occaſion to his Diſciples; . If ye had faith but as a grain of muftard-ſeed, ye ſhalſay to this mountain, Remove hence, and it ſhall remove; and nothing ſhall be timpoſſible to you. But alas! if we look abroad, and conſider the behaviour of the World; what propor- tion, what correſpondence can we find, between the Belief of the Soul’s lmmortality and a future Judgment, and the Practices of Mankind 2 Would Men, Could Men indeed lead the lives they do, and at the ſame time be perſuaded in good earneſt, that a Recompence awaits them hereafter; ſo glori- ous and happy on the one hand, or ſo full of miſe- ry, and ſhame on the other? One ſingle thought, and the bare Idea of thoſe things, which Men profeſs ſo firmly to believe, would perfectly confound, and ſcare wicked Men out of their Wits. There have been inſtances of very ſtrange effects wrought upon Perſons, only by the apprehenſion of publick Juſtice; the Fear of dying by the hands of a Common Exe- w cutioner, Ch. 5. The Study of True Piety. 117 cutioner, or ſome other Accident full of misfortune and reproach; and yet, What are all theſe Calamities, in compariſon of thoſe Horrors, which, Religion tells us, will be the Sinner's portion hereafter? And is it poſſible, that theſe things ſhould be entertained and believed indeed, and Men continue what they are 2 Can a Man ſeriouſly hope for a Bleſſed Immor- tality, make This the Objećt of his Expectations and Deſires, and yet at the ſame time live in a ſlaviſh dread of Death, which he knows is the Neceſſary, the Only paſſage that can lead him to it 2 Can a Chriſtian fear and live under the apprehenſions of Eternal Death and Puniſhment, and yet indulge himſelf in thoſe very Vices, which that very Hell, he believes, is ordained to avenge 2 Theſe are moſt unaccountable Stories; and things as incompatible, as Fire and Water. Men tell the World that they believe theſe Dočtrines, nay they perſuade them- ſelves that they do really believe them ; and then they endeavour to proſelyte others, and make Them believe ſo too; but alas ! there is nothing in all this; nor do They, who talk and act thus inconſiſtently, know what it is to Believe. Such Profeſſors as theſe, are what an Ancient Writer called them, Liars and Cheats; or, as another expreſs'd himſelf very well upon the like occaſion, who reproached the Chriſti- ans with being the gallanteſt Men in the World in ſome reſpects, but the pitifulleſt, and moſt contem- ptible wretches in others. For, ſays he, if you con- fider the Articles of their Belief, you will think them more than Men; but if you examine their Lives and Converſations, you will find them worſe than Brutes, more filthy than the very Swine. Now certainly, if we were wrought upon by ſuch becoming Impreſ. ſions of God and Religion, as are the Effects of Grace, and an Engagement ſo forcible, as Thoſe of a Divine Power; nay, were we but perſuaded of theſe matters by a bare ſimple, and common A. uch 128 Of Wiſdom. Book II. ſuch an hiſtorical Faith, as we credit every Vulgar relation of matters of Faćt with; did we but al- low the ſame Deference to what we call the Word of God, which we pay to the advice, and exhorta- tions, and common diſcourſe of our Friends and Acquaintance ; the Doctrines of the Goſpel could not but be preferred by us, infinitely above any other advantages whatſoever, for the ſake of that incom- parable Goodneſs and Excellence, ſo illuſtriouſly vi- ſible in every part of them. But ſure the leaſt we can be imagined capable of in this caſe, would be to admit them into an equal ſhare of our Affection and Eſteem, with Honours, or Riches, or Friends, or any kind of Allurements this World can pretend to ſeduce us by. And yet, all this notwithſtanding, there are but very few, who are not more afraid to offend a Parent, or a Maſter, or a Friend, than they are of incurring the diſpleaſure of an Almighty God: And who would not rather chuſe to act in contradićtion to an Article of Religion, and ſo for- feit Heaven hereafter, than to break the meaſures of worldly Intereſt and Prudence, at the expence of what they ſtand poſſeſs'd of in preſent? This is in- deed a Great Wickedneſs and Misfortune; but for Perſons who conſider things impartially, Chriſtianity will not ſuffer in Their Eſteem. The Honour and Excellence, the Purity and Sublime Powers of Reli- gion are no more Impaired or Polluted by it, than the Rays of the Sun contiaćt Defilement from the Dunghils they ſhine upon. For Principles are not to be tried by their Profeſſors, but the Profeſſors by their Principles. But we can never exclaim ſuffici- ently againſt thoſe vile Men, who profane the Truth, by their Vicious Lives; and againſt whom that very Truth it ſelf hath denounced ſo many Woes, and ſuch dreadful Wengeance. Now Ch. 5. The Study of True Piety. 129 Now the firſt ſtep towards informing our ſelves, What the nature of True Piety is, will be to diſtin- 9. The Diffe- guiſh it from That, which is Falſe and Counterfeit, “”. and only the Mask and Diſguiſe of Religion. Till this be done, we ſhall but confound our ſelves with equivocal and ambiguous Terms; and prevaricate, both in Expreſſion and in Pračtice, as indeed the greateſt part of Mankind (it is to be feared) do upon this occaſion. Now there is nothing, that pre- tends more to a graceful Air, nor takes more true pains to appear like true Piety and Religion , than Superſtition does; and yet, at the ſame time, no- thing is more diſtant from , or a greater Enemy to it. Juſt as the Wolf, which carries ſome tolerable Reſemblance to a Dog, but is of a quite different Diſpoſition; and comes to devour that Flock, which it is the other's buſineſs to defend; as Counterfeit Money is more nicely wrought, than true Coin; or as a Flatterer, who makes ſhew of extraordinary Zeal and Affection, but is in reality nothing leſs than that true Friend he deſires to be thought. It is no injudicious Charaćter given by Tacitus, when he de- tº peez true and falſe Religion. ſcribes a ſort of Men, "extremely liable to Superſtition, and at the ſame time violently averſe to Religion. Su- perſtition is likewiſe envious, and jealous to the laſt degree, affectedly officious and troubleſome; like a fond Courtezan, who, by her amorous jilting tricks, puts on more Tenderneſs, and pretends to infinitely more concern and love for the Husband, than his true Wife, whom ſhe endeavours to leſſen in his eſteem. Now ſome of the moſt remarkable Cir- cumſtances, wherein theſe two differ, are ; That Religion ſincerely loves and honours God; ſettles the Mind in perfect eaſe and tranquillity, and dwells in a noble and generous, a free and gallant Spirit; * Gens Superſtitioni obnoxia, Religionibus adverſa. K whereas Of Wiſdom. Book II. IO. whereas Superſtition fears and dreads God; gives Men unworthy and injurious apprehenſions of his Maje- ity; perplexes and ſcares the Man, and is indeed the Diſeaſe of a weak and mean, a timorous and : narrow Soul. " It is (according to St. Auguſºn's account of it, ) all over Error and Phrenſ); it lives in : terror of thoſe whom it ought to love ; diſhonours and af- front; thoſe whom it pretends to reſpect and adore; it is the Sickneſs of a little and feeble Mind; He that is once tainted with Superſ?ition, can mever more enjoy peace and reſi. Varro's obſervation is, That Religious Men ſerve . God out of Reverence; but the Superſ?itious out of Horror and perpetual Dread of him. But we will be a little more particular upon each of theſe Qualities. The Superſtitious Perſon is one, who neither lets superſition himſelf, nor any thing elſe be quiet, but is eternally teazing and troubleſome, both to God and Man. The Ideas he entertains of God repreſent him, as an Ill-natur'd and Moroſe, an Envious and a Spite- ful Being; Unreaſonable, Rigorous, and hard to be pleaſed; quickly provoked, but long before he is re- conciled again; One that takes notice of our Aćti- ons, after the ſame manner that we commonly ob- ſerve thoſe of one another; with a ſort of malicious Curioſity, watchful to find faults, and glad to take the advantage of any Failings. All this, it is true, he does not own, nor ſpeak it out; but the manner of his ſerving God ſufficiently declares, and ſpeaks it for him; for That is agreeable, and exactly of a piece with theſe Notions. He trembles and quakes for fear; hath no enjoyment of himſelf, nor any degree of Comfort or inward Security; full of Fears and Melancholy Diſtruſts; always fancying, aftribed. "Superſtitio Error inſanus. Amandos timet; quos colit vio- lat: Morbus puſilli animi. Qui Superſtitione imbutus eſt, quie- tus eſſe nuſguam poteſt. Vario ait, Deum a Religioſo vereri, à Superſtitioſo timeri, that Ch. 5. The Study of True Piety. I 1 that he hath done too little; and left ſomewhat un- done, for want of which, all the Reſt will ſignify nothing. He very much queſtions whether God be ſatisfied with his beſt Endeavours; and in this diſ. quiet he applies himſelf to methods of Courtſhip and Flattery; Tries to Appeaſe and gain upon him by the length and importunity of his Prayers; to Bribe him with Vows and Offerings; Fancies Mira- cles to himſelf; eaſily believes, and takes upon truſt the Counterfeit Pretenſions of this kind from others; Applies every Event to his own Caſe, and interprets thoſe that are moſt ordinary and natural, as expreſly meant, and direéted to Him, by the particular and immediate hand of God; he catches greedily ateve- ry Novelty; and runs after every new Pretender to Light and Revelation. “ Two inſeparable Qualities of Superſtitious People ( ſays one ) are, Exceſ of Fear, and Exceſs of Devotion. Now what in truth is all this, but to Torment one's ſelf moſt immoderately, and at the expence of infinite trouble and diſquiet, to injure and affront God; to deal with him after a moſt baſe, ſordid, and unworthy manner; to uſe him, as if he were a mercenary Being, and to treat the Majeſty of Heaven and Earth, as we durſt not preſume to uſe a Man of Quality or Honour : And indeed, generally ſpeaking, not only Superſtition, but moſt other Errors and Defects in Religion, are owing chiefly to want of right and becoming appre- henſions of God. We debaſe and bring him down to Us; compare and judge of him by our Selves ; cloth him with our own Infirmities, and unac- countable Humours; and then proportion and ſuit our Worſhip and Services accordingly. What hor- ñd Prophanation and Blaſphemy is This - Duo Superſtitioſis propria, nimius Timor, nimius Cultus. *- - K 2 And 13 * Of Wiſdom. Book II. I I. And yet, as deteſtable a Vice, as dangerous a Diſ- It iſ natu- eaſe as This is, it is in ſome meaſure Natural, and all ral. I 2. Common, Mankind have more or leſs Inclination to it. Plu- tarch laments the Weakneſs of Human Nature, in that it never keeps a due Medium, nor ſtands firm upon its feet; but is eternally leaning and tottering to one or other Extreme. For in truth, either it de- clines and degenerates into Superſtition and Vanity, and miſtaken Religion; or elſe it hardens it ſelf in a Neglect of God, and a Contempt of all Religion. We are all of us like a Silly Jilted Husband, that is Put upon by ſome groſs Cheat of an Infamous Wo- man; and takes more delight in her little ſtudied Arts to cajole and bubble him, than he finds ſatiſ- faction with his own Virtuous Wife, who ſerves and honours him with all the genuine Modeſty, and un- affected Tenderneſs becoming her Character. Juſt thus are we abuſed by the large Pretences of Super- ſtition, and prefer it before the leſs ſhowy and pom- pous Charms of true Religion. - It is alſo exceeding frequent and common; we cannot wonder the Vulgar ſhould be infected with it, after what hath been ſaid of its proceeding from Weakneſs of Mind, from Ignorance, or very miſta- ken Notions of the Divine Nature. Upon all which accounts we may well ſuppoſe it is, that Women, and Children, Old Men, and Sick Perſons, or Peo- ple ſtunn'd with any violent Misfortune, or under the Surprize and Oppreſſion of ſome uncommon Accident, are obſerved to labour moſt under this Evil. The ſame hath been likewiſe obſerved by Plu- tarch, of rude and unciviliz'd Countries. " The Bar- barians, ſays he, are maturally diſpoſed to be Superffiti- ous. Of Superſtition then it is, and not of Religion and true Piety, that what we commonly repeat after "Inclinant naturâ ad Superſtitionem Barbari. Plutarch insertario. Plata Ch. 5. The Study of True Piety. I 33 Plato, muſt be underſtood; where he ſays, that the Weakneſs and Cowardice of Mankind firſt brought Religion into Pračtice and Eſteem; and that upon this account, Children, and Women, and Old Peo- ple were moſt apt to receive Religious Impreſſions, more Nice, and Scrupulous, and more addićted to Devotion, than others. This, I ſay, is true of Su- perſtition, and miſtaken Devotion ; but we muſt not entertain any ſuch diſhonourable Thoughts, of true and perfeót Religion. This is of a nobler De- ſcent, its Original is truly Divine; it is the Glory and Excellence, not the Imperfection of Reaſon, and Nature ; and we cannot be guilty of greater In- juſtice to it, than by aſſigning ſuch wretched Cauſes, for its beginning and increaſe, and drawing ſo ſcan- dalous a Pedigree for its Extract. Now, beſides thoſe firſt Seeds, and general Ten- dencies to Superſtition, which are derived from Na- ture, and Common to Mankind, there are large Im- provements and Additions of this Vice, owing to Induſtry and Cunning. For many people ſupport and cheriſh it in themſelves; they give it counte- nance and nurſe it up in others, for the ſake of ſome Convenience and Advantage to be reaped from it. It is thus, that Great Perſons and Governors, though they know very well the Folly and baſeneſs of it, yet never concern themſelves with putting a ſtop, or giving any diſturbance to it; becauſe they are ſatis- fied, This is a proper State-Tool, to ſubdue Mens Minds, and lead them tamely by the Noſe. For this reaſon it is, that they do not only take good care to nouriſh and blow up that Spark, which Nature hath already kindled; but when they find occaſion, and upon ſome preſfing Emergencies, they ſet their Brains on work to forge and invent new and unheard of Follies of this kind. This we are told was a Strata- gem made uſe of by Scipio, Sertorius, Sylla, and ſome other eminent Politicians. - K 3 Wha I 3. Cheriſhed by Reaſon and Policy, I 34 Of Wiſdom. Book II. And paint Religion with ſo grim a Face, That it becomes the Scourge and Plague of human race. * Who by falſe Terror Freeborn Soul debaſe; § † Nothing keeps the Multitude under ſo effectually, as Super- tº to”. I4. f But enough of this wretched People, and that 4*.ſit"- baſe Superſtition, which, like a common Nuſance, #: ... ought to be deteſted by that Scholar of mine, whom tion %. I am now inſtructing, and attempting to accompliſh Religion, in the Study of Wiſdom. Let us leave them grovel- ling in their filth, and betake our ſelves now to the Search of true Religion and Piety; of which I will here endeavour to give ſome ſtrokes, and rude lines; which, like ſo many little Rays of Light, may be of ſome uſe at leaſt, and help to guide us in the purſuit of it. Now from the former Conſiderations it does, I hope, ſufficiently appear, that of the great Wariety of Perſuaſions at preſent, or any poſſible to be Inſti- tuted, Thoſe ſeem to Challenge the Pre-eminence, and beſt deſerve the Character of Truth and Religi- on indeed, which, without impoſing any very labo- rious, or much external Service upon the Body, make it their buſineſs to contračt, and call the Soul home ; that employ and exalt it by pure and hea- venly Contemplations, in admiring and adoring the Excellent Greatneſs, and Majeſty incomprehenſible of Him, who is the Firſt Cauſe of All Things; the Meceſſary, the Beſt, the Original Being; And All this, without any nice or preſumptuous declaration what this Being is, or undertaking poſitively to de- termine and define any thing concerning that Na- Qui faciunt animos humiles formidine Divām. Depreſſoſuue premunt ad terram. t Nulla res multidudinem efficacius regit, quam Superſitio. ture, Ch. 5. The Study of True Piety. 135 | ture, which we cannot underſtand ; or preſcribing too peremptorily, how he ought to be Worſhipped: But contenting our ſelves with ſuch large and inde- finite acknowledgments as Theſe, That God is Good- neſs, and Perfection it ſelf; infinite in all Reſpects, and altogether incomprehenſible; too vaſt for human knowledge to underſtand, or conceive diſtinétly. And thus much the Pythagoreans, and other moſt ce- lebrated Sects of Philoſophers taught long ago. This is the Religion of Angels; and that beſt ſort of Wor- ſhippers in Spirit and Truth, whom God ſeeks and loves. But among all thoſe leſs ſpiritualized Pagans, who could not ſatisfy themſelves with ſo refined a Principle, as Inward Belief, and the Exerciſe of the Soul only ; but would needs gratify their Senſes and Imagination with a viſible Objećt of Worſhip, (which was an Error all the World almoſt was tinétured with. ) The Iſraelites choſe a Calf; but None ſeem to have made ſo good a Choice, as thoſe who pitch- ed upon the Sun for their God: This indeed excel- ling all other Creatures ſo vaſtly, with regard to its Magnitude, and Motion; its Beauty and Luſtre, its wonderful Uſe and Aétivity, and the many un- known Virtues, and Efficacies of its Influences; that it does certainly deſerve, nay, command the admi- ration of all the World; we cannot think too high- ly of it, while we remember it is ſtill but a Crea- ture; for, look round this whole Fabrick, and (Man excepted) your Eye ſhall diſcover nothing ſo glori- ous, nothing equal, nay, nothing near, or compa- rable to it. - The Chriſtian Religion preſerves a due Temper between theſe Extremes, and by devoting both Bo- dy and Soul to God, and accommodating it ſelf to all Conditions and Capacities of Men , hath mixed the Inſenſible and Internal Worſhip, with that which is Senſible and External. Yet ſo, that the moſt per- feót and Spiritual Perſons º themſelves chiefly 4. 111 136 Of Wiſdom. Book II. in the former, and the weak and leſs exalted are ta- ken up with that which is inviſible and popular. I 5. Religion conſiſts in the Knowledge of God, and Some de- of our Selves. For This is a Relative Duty, and ſºrptiºn ºf theſe are the two Terms of that Relation. Its buſi- * neſ, is to magnify God, and ſet Him as high; and to humble Man, and lay Him as low , as poſſibly we can. To ſubdue and beat him down , as a loſt worthleſs Wretch; and when this is once done , then to furniſh him with helps and means of raiſing himſelf up again; to make him duly ſenſible of his own Impotence and Miſery, how Little, how mere a Nothing he is ; that ſo he may caſt away all Con- fidence in himſelf, and place and ſeek his Hope, his Comfort, his Happineſs, his All, in God alone. That which Religion is chiefly concerned in , is the binding us faſt to the Author and Source of all Good; the grafting us afreſh, and conſolidating Man to his firſt Cauſe, like Branches or Suckers into their proper Root. For ſo long as Man continues firm and fixt in this Union, ſo long he preſerves the Per- fection of his Nature ; but on the contrary, when once he falls off, and is ſeparated from it, all his Wi- gor and Powers are dried up and gone, and he im- mediately withers and dies away. * 17 The End and Effect of Religion is faithfully and truly to render their Dues, both to God and Man; that is to ſay, All the Honour and Glory to God ; and all the Gain and Advantage to Man. For theſe two comprehend under them all manner of Good whatſoever. The Profit or Gain, which is a real Amendment and bettering of our Perſons and Con- ditions, is an eſſential and internal Benefit ; and This belongs to Man, who is of himſelf, and with- out this, a Creature Impotent and Empty; Indi- gent and Neceflitous; and miſerable in all reſpects: The Glory is not ſo much an Advantage as an Orna- ment, an Additional and External Grace; and This - belongs Ch. 5. The Study of True Piety. 137 | belongs to God only; for he is the Fulneſs and Per- fection of all Good; ſo abſolute and compleat, that nothing can be added to his Eſſential Happineſs; and therefore Benefit is a thing he cannot receive. And thus if you pleaſe, you may underſtand that Angelick Hymn; Glory to God in the Higheſt, and on Luke II. Earth Peace, and Favour towards Men. Thus much being premiſed in general, the parti- cular Steps or Direétions in this matter, muſt be I4. 18. Piety ex- theſe that follow : Firſt, It is neceſſary that we ap- plained. ply our ſelves to ſtudy, and in ſuch a meaſure as we are capable, to know God. For our Knowledge of Things is the Foundation and the Standard of the Honour we have for them. The firſt thing then, that we ought to be convinced and fully perſuaded of upon this occaſion, is His Exiſtence; then, That he created the World, and that all other Beings whatſo- ever are the Produćts of his Power, and Goodneſs, and Wiſdom: That by theſe ſame Attributes he go- verns this Univerſe of his own making; That his careful Providence watches over all things, and even the leaſt and moſt inconfiderable Events do not eſcape his obſervation; That whatſoever his Diſpenſations to Us are, they are all for our Good; and that all our Evil comes from our ſelves alone. For, if we ſhould account thoſe Accidents, which God appoints for us, to be Evils, this were to be guilty of great Prophanation, and to blaſpheme againſt his Govern- ment; this were to tear up the very Foundations of all Piety and Religion; becauſe Nature teaches us to Honour and love our Benefactors; but begets ha- tred and averſion to them that deal unkindly by us, and do us miſchief Gur Duty therefore is to get a right Notion of God's dealings toward us; to re- ſolve, that we will obey him at any rate; to receive all that comes from his hand, with Meekneſs and Contentation; to commit our ſelves to his Protećti- on I. To know God. 138 Of Wiſdom. Book II. 2. To Honour him. on and Care, and to ſubmit all we are, and all we have, to his direction and wiſe diſpoſal. The next Duty, which follows upon our Knowing God, and which indeed reſults moſt naturally from it, is the Honouring him. And the beſt, the moſt becoming, and moſt Religious Honour we can pay him, conſiſts,Firſt of all, In raiſing our Souls far above any Carnal, Earthly, or Corruptible Imagination; and then exerciſing our ſelves in the Contemplation of the Divine Nature, by all the pureſt, the nobleft, the holieſt and moſt reverent Conceptions that can be. When we have adorned and repreſented this moſt excellent Being to our ſelves, in all the moſt magnificent Ideas; when we have given him the moſt glorious Names, and ſung forth his Praiſes in the moſt excellent manner, that our Mind can poſſi- bly deviſe, or ſtrain it ſelf up to ; we are ſtill with all Humility to acknowledge, that in all this we have not done, or offered to his Majeſty, anything ſuit- able to his own Excellency, or in it ſelf worthy his Acceptance; and to poſſeſs our ſelves with yet more awful and reſpectful Ideas of him, by the profound- eſt Senſe of our own Imperfeótions; That it is not in the power of Human Nature to conceive any thing better; though we plainly ſee, that our moſt exalted Thoughts ſerve not ſo much to ſhew us his Glory, as to reproach us with our own Weakneſs and Defects. For God is the laſt and higheſt Flight, which our Imagination is able to make, when it would ſoar up towards abſolute Perfection ; and in aſpiring to this Idea, every Man lets looſe his Mind, and enlarges his Notions according to his own Capa- city; or rather indeed, God is infinitely greater and higher than all the boldeſt and braveſt Flights of poor feeble Man; a Perfection more exquiſite, more bright, than the Dim Eye of Mortals can receive the Luftre of, or the moſt tow’ring Imagination make any approach to. We Ch. 5. The Study of True Piety. 139 We muſt alſo ſerve this God Sincerely, in Spirit, 20. and from the Heart; for this is a ſort of Service, To ſerve which is moſt agreeable to his Nature. God himſelf "...” is a Spirit, and they that worſhip him, muſt worſhip him jº, in Spirit and Truth, ſays he, who beſt knew both """ ; what he was, and what he expects from Us. This Argument the very Heathens could enforce for In- ward Purity, and a Sanctified Mind". This he will not only accept, but it is what he ſeems deſirous of, and hath declared will be exceeding welcome and delightful: The Father ſeeketh ſuch to worſhip him. The W. 23. Offering of a ſweet-ſmelling Savour, and what he values indeed, is That of a clean, free, and humble Spirit, (The Mind is a Sacrifice to God, ſays Seneca ; ) an unſpotted Soul, and an Innocent Life. And thus others; t He that brings the beft heart, worſhips God beft. The moſt Religious Adoration is to imitate the Perfections of Him we adore; The only way of ſerving God is not to be an ill Man. The truly Wiſe Man is a True Prieſt of the moſt High God: His Mind is God's Temple, and the Houſe where his Honour dwelleth : His Soul is God's Image, a Ray or Reflection of that Brightneſs and Glory above: His Affections and Ap- petites, like ſo many Oblations; are all conſecra- ted, and entirely devoted to his uſe and ſervice. And his great, his daily, his moſt ſolemn Sacrifice, is to imitate, and ſerve, and obey him. You ſee how dif- ferent this is from that abſurd Notion of thoſe Peo- ple, who make Religion conſiſt in Giving to God. Alas! what can We give to Him 2 All is his own al- ready; and the .# we can poſſibly do, is but to reſtore and pay back what his Bounty hath beſtowed * Si Deus eſtanimus, ſit purá mente colendus. + Optimus Animus pulcherrimus Dei Cultus. Religioſiſſimus Cultus imitari, Unicus Dei Cultus non effe malum. Lafiant. Merc. Triſm. upon – I 4o Of Wiſdom. Book II. upon us. But we are wretchedly miſtaken, if we imagine it poſſible for God to receive any Addition, or be enriched from Men; No, he is above all That; Our buſineſs muſt be to ask of Him, to implore his Favour and Aſſiſtance for our Wants and Weak- neſſes: It is the Charaćter of the Great to give, and of the Poor and Mean to ask; And therefore we may eaſily diſcern which of theſe two parts belongs to an Infinite Almighty God, and which to wretch- A&s xx. ed indigent Mortals. It is more bleſſed to give than to 35. receive : And however he may graciouſly condeſcend to interpret thoſe Works of Mercy done for his ſake, yet in the way of Sacrifice and Worſhip of himſelf, it is a Prodigy of Vanity that many have been guilty of, to think themſelves in a Condition of Giving to Him, from whoſe liberal Hand alone it is, that they receive their own Subſiſtence. - 2 I. But though the Mind be that, which we are prin- With our cipally obliged to offer, and God is beſt pleaſed to Body. be ſerved with ; yet is not the External Worſhip and Service of the Body, by any means to be neglected or diſdained by us. The demonſtrations of Reve- rence expreſs'd by This Part, and particularly in his Publick Worſhip, are by no means contemptible in his fight. He eſteems and expečts theſe from us ; that we ſhould appear in the Aſſemblies of his Ser- vants; that we ſhould aſſiſt and bear a part with our Brethren in what is done there ; that we ſhould ob- . ferve and conform to thoſe Ceremonies, which ei- ther the Laws have enjoined , or Cuſtom hath made common; And that all this be done with Modera- tion and Temper; without Vanity or Affectation, without Hypocriſy or Ambition, without Luxury or Avarice; conſtantly poſſeſſing our ſelves with this Reflection; that God expects to be ſerved with the Spirit, and all theſe outward Services are more upon our own account than His ; that they are decent ſig- nifications of our Reverence and Zeal, marks of - Unity, Ch. 5. The Study of True Piety. I4 I Unity, and tend to the Edification of our Brethren, the enſlaming their Devotion, and encouraging them by good Examples; and that they are very Reaſon- able and Decent upon theſe accounts, though they regard Comelineſs and Cuſtoms only, and are not the Eſſentials of Worſhip; nor of the very Subſtance of Religion; but Ornaments and Convenient Helps to 1ſ. - The Wows and Prayers we make to God, muſt all of them be regulated by, and ſubjećt to his own good Pleaſure. "We ſhould never deſire, we muſt never ask any thing, but only with ſubmiſſion to his wiſer Appointments; and every Requeſt muſt be at- tended with that neceſſary Reſervation, Thy Will be done. To ask any thing contrary to the order and methods of his Providence, is as if we ſhould at- tempt to bribe the Judge of all the Earth, and divert this univerſal Governor from his Rules of Juſtice and Judgment: To imagine that God is to be courted or flattered into Compliance, that Preſents and Pro- miſes can win him over ; is to Affront him : God cares not for our Riches, for the whole world is His, and all that is therein. He demands not any Gifts at Qur Hands; for, ſtrićtly ſpeaking, we have nothing to ive. For All is His, and he only requires, that we id walk worthy of thoſe which our ſelves have ſo largely received from Him; He does not expect we ſhould Preſent him, but that we ſhould make known our Wants with Faith and Humility, and re- ceive our ſupplies with Modeſty and Thankfulneſs. And by ſuch Requeſts he thinks himſelf honoured. But even in theſe we muſt be much reſigned. For Us topreſcribe to His Wiſdom, to be too peremptory and particular in our Requeſts; to inform Him what is fit for us, or eager and importunate, for what we are fond of, is a breach of that Deference and Reſigna- tion we owe to God; and it is often of ill Conſe- quence to ourſelves; it expoſes Men to the Incon- Wenlen CC 22. By Prayer. – J42 Of Wiſdom. Book II. venience of Midas in the Fable, and ruins them at their own inſtance. The wiſeſt, as well as the moſt becoming Style, for all our Addreſſes to the Throne of Grace, is, That he would ačt with us according - to his own Wiſdom and Goodneſs; and always do and give thoſe things, which are moſt pleaſing to Him, and which He knows beſt, and moſt expedient : for Us. *In a word, All our Thoughts, our Words, our -Behaviour, and whole Communion with God ſhould : -be managed, even in our greateſt privacy, with the •ſame Decency and Reverence, as if all the World were by, and ſaw them; and all our Converſation •with Men ſhould be managed with that Sincerity, •which becomes thoſe, who remember that God ſees, ‘and is conſcious to every thing we do, and cannot •be impoſed upon, though our Brethren may. 23. The making bold with God's moſt Holy Name, ** , is a Great and Horrible violation of that profound ...ºf Honour and Reſpect we owe to him; And thoſe Peo- ple are exceedingly to blame, who take it into their McNuths lightly, and promiſcuouſly, and mingle it with every Sentence they ſpeak, and every thing they do. Of this Nature are all thoſe Exclamations of Paſſion, or Wonder, or Surpriſe; all thoſe vain and cuſtomary Oaths, which we ſo frequently hear, and find habitual; all thoſe mentionings of God, by Me n who do not ſo much as think of Him, or know that they do it; and to be ſhort, All thoſe haſty and trifing forms of ſpeech, wherein God is called upon irré werently and by the by ; for No reaſon at all; or for Such as is not important enough to juſtify ſuch an Invocation. For we ſhould by all means take care of being familiar or ſawcy with ſo Auguſt a M. jeſty; we ſhould name him but ſeldom ; and when we do, with great Seriouſneſs and Gravity; with Modeſty and Humility, with Reverence and } ar. We ſhould never ſpeak of Him, or His do- --- - 1n2S, Ch. 5. The Study of True Piety. 143 ings, but with all poſſible Submiſſion and Caution; and eſpecially, we ſhould never take upon us to judge or paſs ſentence upon any of His Aëtions, but conclude, that whatever he does, is Juſt, and Good, and fitteſt to be done. And thus you have ſuch a compendious Account of Piety, as I thought neceſſary for this place. I only add, that This Virtue ought to be had in the reateſt Eſteem and Veneration; and that Men j make it their Conſtant Care and Buſineſs, as well as Entertainment and Delight, thus to be con- tinually exerciſed in the Contemplation of Almighty God; with Freedom and Chearfulneſs, and Filial Reverence and Affection; for This is Religion; And not with a Mind terrified and troubled, and haunted with gaſtly and affrighting Idea's of him, which is the Vice and the Torment of the Superſtitious. As to the particular Points both of Faith and Pračtice, The Chriſtian Dočtrine is to be our Rule: For this is the Trueſt,the Nobleſt,the moſt Refined and Spiritual,and beſt accommodated to the Glory of God, the Comfort and Safety of our own Souls, and the General Good of Mankind. And therefore here we muſt fix, and to this we muſt ſtick; And amidſt the unhappy Diffe- rences of theſe ſeveral Contending Parties, who all profeſs to follow this Rule, the Conſtant Authority, and the Concurring Senſe and univerſal Agreement of the Church in all Ages and Parts of the Chriſtian World, is to be our Meaſure. This is an Authority ſo venerable, that it requires our Submiſſion with Meekneſs and much Deference. Here we muſt fix; and to This we muſt refer the Reſolution of our Doubts. At leaſt All that are of a modeſt and peace- able Spirit will forbear the being factious and trou- bleſome, and not diſturb the Quiet and Order of their Brethren, by ſtarting any Novelty, or engaging in behalf of any Private and Singular Opinions. And this they are obliged in Duty and Conſcience - to 24. Concluſion. 144 Of Wiſdom. Book II. 25. Piety and Probity muſt go to- gether. 26. to do, upon the account of the Reaſons laid down by me at large in the firſt and laſt Chapters of my Third Truth; which places alone are ſufficient to ſa– tisfy thoſe Readers, who either have not the oppor- tunity, or will not give themſelves the trouble of per- uſing the whole Book. One neceſſary Caution there is yet behind, and he who makes any pretenſions to Wiſdom, muſt by all means attend to it; which is, That he do not ſepa- rate the Piety ſpoken of in this Chapter, from that Probity and Integrity treated of before; and ſo imagining, that One of theſe is ſufficient for his pur- poſe, be at no pains to qualify himſelf with the Other ; and as careful muſt he be too, not to con- found and jumble theſe two together, as if they were but two names for one and the ſame thing. For in truth, Piery and Probity, Devotion and Con- ſcience, are diſtinét in their very nature, are derived from different Cauſes, and proceed upon different Motives and Reſpećts. I deſire indeed, that they may go hand in hand, and be both united in the Per- ſon, whom at preſent I am forming into Wiſdom ; and moſt certain it is, that Either of them without the Other, is not, cannot be perfect. But ſtill they muſt both meet, and both continue diſtinét; and though we would join, yet we muſt take care not to confound them. And Theſe are two Precipices, which muſt be diligently avoided; and few indeed keep clear of them; for either they ſeparate Religi- on and common Honeſty, ſo as to ſatisfy themſelves with one of them alone; or elſe they jumble Godli- neſs and Morality together, ſo as to make them all one, or at leaſt to repreſent them, as exačtly of the ſame Species, and effects of the ſame Common Principle. The Perſons under the former Error, which ſepa- Piety with rate theſe Two, and content themſelves with One of out Protify them ſingly, are of two foºts: For ſome devote themitives | Ch. 5. The Study of True Piety. 145 themſelves entirely to the Worſhip and Service of God, ſpend all their time and pains, in Praying, and Hearing, and other holy Ordinances; and place all Religion in Theſe ; but as for Virtue, and ſtrićt Honeſty in their Dealings, Sincerity, and Charity, and the like, and in a word, living in agreement to their Prayers, and praćtiſing what they hear and read, they have no reliſh or regard for Theſe things, nor make any account of them at all. This is a Vice taken notice of, as Epidemical, and in a man- ner Natural to the People of the fews, (who were above all Mankind addićted to Superſtition, and upon that account ſcandalous and deteſtable to all the World beſides;) and among them the Scribes and Phariſees in a yet more infamous degree. The Pro- phets exclaim againſt it loudly, and afterwards their own Meſſiah reproaches them with it perpetually. He expoſes that villanous Hypocriſy, which made Matt. xxi. their Temple a Den of Thieves ; which exalted their Ceremonies and outward obſervances, to the prejudice of inward and ſubſtantial Holineſs; which made a Conſcience of Traditions, that they might, xv. under that pretence, get a convenient Cloak and Excuſe for the moſt unnatural Barbarities; which Tithed Mint, and Aniſe, and Cummin, but over- xxiii. look'd Judgment, and Righteouſneſs, and Fidelity: In one word, They were ſo overrun, ſo extrava- gantly conceited in the matter of external Devoti- on, and ceremonious Obſervances; that, provided they were punétual in Theſe, they fancied themſelves diſcharged of all Other Duties; nay, they took occa- fion from thence to harden their hearts, and thought This would atone for other Faults, and give thema Privilege of being wicked. This is a ſort of Fe- male and Vulgar Piety, and vaſt numbers are taint- ed with it every where, at this very day; they lay out all their Diligence and Care upon thoſe little Exerciſes of outward Devotion; for Little ſure they , are, 146 Of Wiſdom. Book II. 27. are, as They uſe them, who never carry the Effects of them home to their Lives and Conſciences ; but Pray, and Read, and frequent the Church, and Qr- dinances, and are not one whit the better Men for doing ſo. This gave occaſion to that Proverb, 4 Saint at Church, and a Devil at Home. They lend their hand, and their outſide to God, pay Him all the demonſtrations of Reverence and Reſpect; And a fair outſide it is ; but all This, as our Lord told the Phariſees, is but a whited Wall, and a whited Se- pulchre; This people honourth me with their lips, but their heart is far from me. Nay, they do not only ne- glect the Pračice of other Duties, and take no #: to be all of a piece; but their very Holineſs it clf is from a wicked Deſign; they make this Piety a Cover for greater Impieties; alledge, and depend upon their Devotions, firſt to give them Credit in the World, and greater Opportunities to deceive un- der the Mask of #. much Sanétity; and then for the extenuating or , making a compenſation for their Vices, and ſinful Liberties. Others theſe are, who run into a diſtant, and quite contrary Extreme : They lay ſo great Streſs upon Virtue and Moral Honeſty, as to value nothing elſe; and make Religion and Piety, ſtrićtly ſo cal- led, no part of their Concern. This is a Fault ob- ſervable in ſome of the Philoſophers; and may be obſerved very commonly in people of Atheiſtical Principles. And ſurely , it, is the proper Fruit of ſuch a Corrupt Tree; for, that Men ſhould believe God and his Revelations; that they ſhould call Them- felves Chriſtians, and yet be of opinion, that we are excuſed from all the Acknowledgments, and Marks of Homage due, and paid to God, in our Faith and Worſhip, and That Branch of our Duty, which is properly diſtinguiſhed by the Title of God: lineſs, is very inconſiſtent, and unaccountable. * * ~ tº 13, ºf . , t , e, , ; , ºf Theſe t Ch. 5. The Study ºf True Piety. 147 Theſe are the two Vicious Extremes; whether of the Two is the more or leſs ſo, I ſhall not at pre- ſent take upon me to determine; nor will I diſpute, whether Religion, or Morality, will ſtand a Man in greater ſtead. Thus much only give me leave to add, by way of Compariſon, as to Three Conſide- rations; which is, that the Former, as deſcribed in the laſt Paragraph, and practiſed by the few: , is without diſpute, by much the eaſier, the more pom- pous, and more incident to weak and vulgar Souls. The Latter muſt be allowed infinitely more difficult and laborious; it makes leſs Noiſe and Oſtentation in the World, and is more proper to Brave, Reſo- lute, and Generous Minds, for the former reaſons; as being more ſubſtantial, and of a larger compaſs, meeting with great oppoſition, and having leſs to feed Mens Vanity with. . . . My buſineſs is next with a Second Sort of Men, who confound and ſpoil all, for want of a juſt Di- ſtinétion, but perplex theſe Two, and the Grace of God; and jumble all together. Theſe in truth are defective in all Three. . When you come to exa- mine the matter ſtrictly, they will be found to have neither true Religion, nor true Moral Honeſty, nor true Grace at the bottom; but by the Figure and all the outward appearances they make, they very much º: the Perſons mentioned before, who are ſo immöderately zealous for Religion, that they have 28. Againſ? them that confound theſe twº. little or no concern for any thing beſides; marvel-, louſly ſatisfied with Themſelves, and merciléſ, Cenſu- rers of all the World beſides. And theſe are the Men, that make all manner of Probity and Good Actions to be a conſequent and attendant upon Re- ligion; wholly to depend upon, and entirely to be devoted to it; and ſo they acknowledge no ſuch thing as Principles of Natural Juſtice, or Probity of Mind, any otherwiſe than they are derived from, and moved by the Springs of Conſiderations purely - - L 2 Religious. Of Wiſdom. Book (ſ. A. Religious. Now the Matter is far otherwiſe; for Religion is not only after it in Time, but more limi- ted and particular in its Extent. This is a diſtinct Virtue, and not the Comprehenſion and Sum of all Virtues; and, as the Inſtances of Phariſees and Hype- crites here prove, may ſubſiſt without Them, or that general good Diſpoſition of Mind, which we call Probity : And ſo again may They be independent of Religion, as the Examples of Philoſophers, and good Moral Heathens (who we cannot ſay had eve; any Religion properly ſo called), ſhew on the other hand. This is alſo, according to the common Schemes of Theology, a Moral Virtue, a Branch of Juſtice, which we know is one of the Four Cardinal Virtues, and teaches us to give to All their Due ; according to their Quality, and reſpective Claims Now God being Supreme, the Maker and Maſter of the Univerſe, we are bound to pay him the moſt profound Honour, the moſt humble Obedience, the Inoſt punctual and diligent Service. This now is pro- perly Religion, and conſequently it is a diviſion un: der the General Topick of Juſtice. Again, Theſe Perſons, as they miſtake the Nature, ſo do they like- wiſe invert the Order of things; for they make Re- ligion antecedent to Probity: But how can this be, ſince, as the Apoſtle ſays, Faith cometh by Hearing, and Hearing by the Word of God; how, I ſay, can That which is the Effeót of Revelation and Inſtrućti- on, be the Cauſe of a Thing originally rooted in Nature, born with us, and inſeparable from us? For ſuch is that Law and Light of God, kindled in every Man's Breaſt, and interwoven with the Conſtitution of the whole Species. This therefore is plainly di- ſturbing the true Order of theſe matters; and turn- ing them out of all method. They would have a Man Wirtuous and entirely Good, merely for the ... of Heaven to allure, or the Terrors of Hell to affright and awe him into his Duty. But me- thinks rº- . . Ch. 5. The Study of True Piety. 149 thinks thoſe Expreſſions carry a very ill ſound, and ſpeak a mean and vulgar Virtue: * If the Fear of the Divine Vengeance and Everlaſting Damnation did not reſtrain me, I would do thus or thus. O pitiful cowardly Wretch what Senſe, what Notion haſt thou of thy Duty 2 what Inclinations doſt thou cheriſh all this while 2 what Motives doſt thou act upon * what Thanks doſt thou deſerve for all that is done upon ſuch conſtraint and againſt thy own Will? Thou art not wicked, becauſe thou dareſt not be ſo for fear of the Rod. Now I would have thee ſo perfect, as not to want the Courage but the Inclina- tion to do amiſs; I would have thee ſo reſolutely good, as not to commit the leaſt Evil, though thou wer’t ſure never to be chidden, never to be called to an account for it. Thou playeft the part of a Good Man, that thou may’ſt be thanked and rewarded for thy pains; I would have thee be real- ly ſo, without any proſpect of hire or gain, nay though none but thy ſelf ſhould ever be conſcious of thy Virtue. I would have thee ſo, becauſe the Laws and Dićtates of Nature and Reaſon direct and Command thee to be ſo. (For Nature and Reaſon in this caſe are but another word for God: and Theſe Principles, and That Light,and the Original Diſtinétions of Good and Evil are his Will and his Laws iſſued in a different manner). Becauſe the Order and Good Government of the World, where- of thou art a part, require this at thy hands; be- cauſe thou canſt not conſent to be otherwiſe, with- out ačting againſt thy ſelf, in contradićtion to thy Being, to thy Intereſt, to the End of thy Creation; And when thou haſt thus ſatisfied thy duty and acted upon theſe motives, never be ſolicitous for the Event; but perſevere in Virtue, in deſpight of any Sufferings or Dangers that may threaten thee. When I urge This as the beſt Principle of doing well, I do not wholly diſallow all others, norutterly L 3 con- 15o Of Wiſdom. Book II. condemn that Probity required and cheriſhed by the external motives of Recompence and Puniſhment, as if Theſe were unlawful to be proceeded upon. Doubtleſs they have their Uſe and Efficacy; are ve- ry proper for the reducing of Ill Men, who muſt be treated in a more ſlaviſh and mercenary way; and the Foundations thus laid at firſt come frequent- ly to noble Improvements. But ſtill I call this a poorer and meaner Principle, and would have my Wiſe Man aſpire to ſomething ſublimer, and more worthy his Charaćter. For This requires a brighter, ſtronger, and more generous Probity, than the Com- mon ſort of Mankind may be allowed to take up with. And even Divines have generally repreſented ſuch a Piety as Servile, Imperfeót; accommodated to the weaker and more ignorant, and fitter for Babes and Beginners, than for Strong and Maſterly Chriſtians. This farther is very certain, that the Probity wholly depending upon a Spirit of Zealand Religion; and having no ſegard to the Principles of Natural Light; beſides that it muſt needs be accidental and unequal in its Operations, and want that Evenneſs and Conſtancy which was there large- º to be one of its Properties; I add, that his is a very dangerous Principle, and does fre- quently pruducehorrid and ſcandalous effects; for it makes º Rules of Common Honeſty ſubſervient to Zeal for Religion; and opens a Door for all thoſe execrable Willanies, which the dear-bought ex- perience of all Ages hath too ſenſibly convinced us, are capable of being committed under the fair Shew and Colour of Piety. And Theſe are really ſo dread- ful and deteſtable, that we have reaſon to queſtion, whether any other occaſion or pretence in the World have done more miſchief, than thoſe falſe but ſpecious profeſſions of Religion. The Cauſe and Honour of God is indeed the Greateſ, the Nobleſt, and moſt worthy our Zeal; and if it were not º - this Ch. 5. The Study of True Piety. 1 5 1 this in its own nature, the abuſe of it could never, be ſo fatal as it is. For Brave and Valuable things on- ly are ſubjects for Hypocriſy; and what is little and eſpicable, as the right uſe of it does no great good, ſo the perverting it to wrong purpoſes can do no mighty harm. It is not therefore any Diſparage- ment to Religion, but the confeſs'd Excellency of it above any other Subjećt whatſoever, that the Cor- ruption and falſe Pretences of it are ſo pernicious; Were it leſs good, the abuſe of it muſt have been leſs evil. * Such Deviliſh Ağs Religion could perſuade — If you ſhall ſtart at theſe bold Truths, and fly Such Lines as Maxims of Impiety, Conſider that Religion did, and will, Contrive, promote, and ačf the greateſt, Ill. - - * º' . . . . . . . . . . Creech, To lay aſide all manner of Affection and Com- mon Humanity for all Sečts and Parties but our own ; To look with Scorn and Indignation upon them, as if every Man, of a different Perſuaſion from our ſelves were perfect Brutes and Monſters; To ſuppoſe our ſelves diſparaged and defiled with their Company and Converſation; Theſe are ſome of the mildeſt and moſt moderate principles and actions of ſuch furious Zealots. He that profeſſes himſelf a good and an honeſt Man merely for the Check and Reſtraints which Religious Fears have l - - — , , "Tantum Religioporuitfundere malorum— Illud in his rebus wereor ne forte rearis , Impia te Rationisinire elementa, viamºue . . Endogredi .# §: contrå .olim eligio perperit ſecleroſa atque impia fatta, - Religio p petitieclero º impianº. Lucret, Lºb. I. - " ... . . . Cºlº * - r + - - * * }, 4 - upon 151 Of Wiſdom. Book li. John XVI. 2. upon him; and hath no other motives of Virtue, no ſcruples of doing ill, but ſuch as depend upon Re- vealed Promiſes and Threatnings, is a Man of leſs noble Principles, more hardly to be truſted, and leſs to be eſteemed or admired. "I will not call ſuch a Man wickeder ; but ſure there is more danger in him, than if he had no Virtue nor Religion neither. Such People would tempt one to think that Religion whets their Paſſions, and enflames them with Pre- tences of Zeal, as it did the jews of old; Whoſoever killeth you, ſhall think that he doth God ſervice. Not that I mean, by all This to caſt the leaſt Aſperſion upon Religion, as if It Taught, or warranted, or countenanced any kind of Evil, (as ſome who from hence take occaſion to argue and rail at Religion in general, would pretend; (For this is not to ſhew their reaſon, but to betray their extreme Folly, or their extreme Malice ) The falſeſt and moſt abſurd of all Perſuaſions that ever were, will not own any fuch Intention. But the bottom of all this Miſchief ſeems to lie here; That ſuch Men have no taſte or ſenſe, no Idea or diſtinét Notion of Sincerity and Honeſty, but merely as it retains to Religion, and is entirely in its ſervice and devotion; and withal they know no other Definition of a Good Man, but One who is extremely diligent and warm in the pro- pagating and promoting the Religion himſelf pro- feſſes; From which two Imaginations joined toge- ther, they eaſily and naturally ſlide into a Third ; and preſently perſuade themſelves, that any thé blackeſt and moſt barbarous Enormities, Treachery and Treaſon, Seditions and Murthers, are not only lawful and allowable, when ſheltered under the Co- lour of Sanétity, and the protection of a Zeal for the advancement of one's Religion; but they are even Sanétified by this pretence; ſo far from deſer. ving Puniſhment of Reproach, that they commence Commendable and Meritorious; and think nothing r- - -- - Ch. 5. The Study of True Piety. leſs than a Canonization their due, if their own Party and Perſuaſion reap any advantage, or their Adverſaries ſuffer any damage or defeat from them. Thus the jews, we read, were moſt unnatural and barbarous to their Parents; unjuſt to their Neigh- bours; they neither Lent nor Gave to thoſe in want; and were ſo far from contributing towards ſupplying the Neceſſities of the Poor, that they refuſed to pay their own juſt debts; and all this becauſe they con- tributed to the Temple; Corban was thought an an- ſwer ſufficient to ſtop the mouths of all the World and He that could make this reply, look'd upon ii. St. Hier. ſelf diſcharged from all Duties and Demands what- ſoever. Let Parents ſtarve, or Creditors be cheated, ret all was well, ſo long as the Money that ſhould Hºe paid the one, and fed the other, was devoted to pious Uſes. And now, to conclude what I have to ſay upon this Subjećt, I will ſhew you very briefly, how I would have my wiſe Man qualified, with regard to Piety and Probity, which is in one word by a ſtrict union, and inſeparable alliance of them both; and that in ſuch a manner, that, like Perſons in a con- jugal State, each ſhould ſubſiſt and be able to act upon its own natural, and proper Strength, but yet neither of them ſhould ever part, or be deſtitute of the other. And then to make the Union com- pleat, and the Virtue as Chriſtian and Noble as it is capable of being, I deſire that both the For- mer Qualifications may be crowned with the Grace of God, which, as I have obſerved before, he is not ſparing in to Them who do their utmoſt, but will be ſure to give his Holy Spirit ſufficiently and liberally, to all Them that ſincerely and devoutly ask Him. I 53 Matth. 29. Concluff The * 54 of Wiſdom. Book II. T HE Advertiſements thought neceſſary to Ji be inſerted here, being not ſo much in the nature of Remarks upon little occaſional Paſſages, as Diſſertations upon Diſtinčf Arguments, both here and in the Eleventh Chapter ; the Reader will find them at the End of this Second Book. It appearing more Convenient to allow them a ſepa- rate place by themſelves ; than to make ſuch very large Interruptions in the Body of this Treatiſe. - * - * tº -- i C. ** º - : - 1. - !!! -> * - * - —- … Tº * * - 2 is *. * * * : hº º ; : - - - -- ** * * * * : * ~ * > . . . . . . *:::. . . . . . . . . . .'; .. ſi: ; - - º - - i 155 Ch. 6. C H. A. P. VI. Of a due Regulation of a Man, Pleaſures and Teſires. NE very conſiderable effect of Wiſdom, is the Teaching and Qualifying a Man, to be moderate in all his Pleaſures, and attain a perfect Maſtery over his Deſires. For, as for renouncing all our Pleaſures, and utterly extinguiſhing all Incli- nation, I am ſo far from expecting any #. thing in that Pattern of Wiſdom I am now endeavouring to form; that I look upon This, not only as a fan- taſtical and extravagant; but, which is a great deal worſe, I verily believe it to be a Vicious and an Un- natural Notion. The firſt thing therefore requiſite to be done at preſent, is to confute that Opinion, which abſolutely condemns, and would fain exter- minate all Pleaſures; and then, after the vindicati- on of the thing in general, to lay down ſome di- rečtions, how Men ought to govern Themſelves in the Uſe and Enjoyment of them. - There is ſcarce any Opinion more ſpecious and plauſible, more admired by the generality of Man- kind, and more affected by thoſe who pretend to be, and would fain paſs for the beſt and moſt know- ing part of them, than the Contempt of the World. No Man ſets up for extraordinary, Wiſdom and Sanétity, but One of his ſolemn and moſt pompous Profeſſions, is the Neglecting and abſolutely Deſpi- fing all ſorts of Pleaſure; a perfect Diſregard of the Body, an Abſtraćtion of the Mind, and retiring within himſelf; ſo as to cut of all wº - W . .in I. Of the Con- tempt of the World. Of Wiſdom. Book II. with the World and the Body; raiſing and refining his Mind by the Contemplation of noble and ſub- lime Subjećts; and thus contriving, that his life ſhall paſs away in a State of Inſenſibility; without ſo much as ever deſcending to taſte, or take notice of its Enjoyments. And indeed, the common ex- preſſion of Men's paſſing away their Time is in a peculiar manner applicable to theſe Perſons above any others: For they have a notion, that the beſt Uſe Life can poſſibly be put to, is to let it ſlide over without obſervation; to deceive the Time, and ſteal from the World, as if Living were a moſt miſèrable Hardſhip, full of unavoidable Miſchiefs; and a Pe- nance, ſo burdenſome and tedious, that He only is happy, who can make his eſcape from it. Thus theſe great Sages dodge, and run away from the World; they do not only bring the common methods of Living into Suſpicion, and caſt an Odium upon the Recréations and Entertainments, and innocent Li- berties in common uſe; but they even proclaim War upon the Neceſſities of Nature; and profeſs an Averſion to thoſe very things, which God in his Wiſdom hath ſeaſoned with Pleaſure, on purpoſe to recommend the Uſe of them to us. They never come in the way of theſe, but with Reluctance, and are rather dragged, than move willingly; they keep their mind ſtill in exerciſe and employment upon ſomewhat elſe, and are abſent in thought all the while; In ſhort, If you will believe the mighty boaſts they make, and all the mortified account they ive of themſelves, Their whole Life is a Toil and a #. Death is the only Eaſe and Solace they propoſe to themſelves. And that unnatural Sentence is ever in their mouths, "That they do indeed bear and can be content to Live, but if they might follow e --~~~~~. . C:. . . * Vitam habere in Patientiã, mortem in Deſiderio. - their : Ch. 6. Of Regulating our Pleaſures, &c. 157 their own Inclinations, the thing they wiſh, and would much rather chuſe, is to Die. But it will be no hard matter to take off all the 2. ſeeming Virtue of this Opinion, and to blaſt the This opini- Glories and Commendations it pretends to. For in diſap- when we come to a cloſe and impartial Confiderati- ?” on of the matter, The Unreaſonableneſs, the great Wickedneſs indeed, of ſuch a Contempt diſcovers it ſelf in ſeveral Inſtances. For, Firſt of all, if we conſult Nature, and attend to the Condition and Deſign of our Creation, Reaſon will teach us, that nothing is more Graceful, no Duty more Obligatory, than the conſidering and maintaining the Charaćter aſſigned to us; that is in plain Engliſh, the Learning to live here, in all reſpe&ts, as becomes Men. It is in truth a very difficult Study, but withala moſt divine Accompliſhment, to know how to Enjoy and Uſe the Being God hath given us, as he intended we ſhould do: To obſerve the Common Model of Na- ture, and then the particular Circumſtances and Qualifications of our own State and Caſe: And ſo to adjuſt and proportion our behaviour to the firſt of theſe, as at the ſame time to be guilty of nothin foreign to our private Condition, or any way # agreeable to the part we are to play upon this Com- mon Theatre. We are to follow and to act what is given us, but not to invent and make a new part of our own head. But now theſe Extravagant Sin- gularities, Theſe Studied and Artificial Eſſays and Overtures, Theſe ways of living beſide the common road, are all of them Sallies of Men's own Folly, and Paſſion, and impertinent Additions of ſuch, as, becauſe they do not underſtand their part, miſtake and overdo it. They are the Diſeaſes and Phrenſies of the Soul, that put Men quite beſide their Senſes. They Spiritualize themſelves, only to be more refi- ned Fools; and while they affect the perfeótion of Angels, degenerate into the ſtupidity of Brutes. It Was 158 Of Wiſdom, Book II. i was wiſely ſaid by him in the Comedy, Homo ſam”. humani à me nihil alienum puto; which with reſpect to : our preſent Subject is, I myſelf am a Man ; ; & and therefore, muſt think nothing that is Human, unworthy my concern. For this is the very State of: -our Caſe, Man is a compounded Being; a Creature : : conſiſting of Soul and Body both; and it is by no : means commendable to maim Nature and take : the Building to Pieces, by cutting off this Fleſhly . Tabernacle. God hath United, and as it were Married : theſe Two together, by all the Ties of Nature, and , the moſt tender intimate Affection; and how impi- ousan Undertaking is it for Us to createJealouſies and : : Diſlikes, to drive things to Separation and Divorce, and thus to put aſunder thoſe whom God hath joined : together?:Quite contrary, we ſhould rather tye this Knot faſter, by all the good Offices and mutual Aſ. fiſtances they are capable of to one another. For indeed, they are well contrived for ſuch . Services. The Body of its ſelf is heavy and ſtupid, and therefore the Soul ſhould animate, and awaken, and renderit Vigorous and Aétive. The Spirit of its ſelf is light and airy, and oftentimes very troubleſome- ly brisk; and therefore the Body is of uſe to check and fix it. In a word, The Mind ſhould govern, and cheriſh, and be helpful to the Body, (as a Huſ- band ſhould aſſiſt and direct his Wife) and by no means hate, or caſt it off; or deſpiſe the Infirmities and Neceſſities of this weaker Weſſel. It is an unbe- coming Niceneſs and Pride, to refuſe the partaking in its innocent Pleaſures; ſuch as Nature ordains, and the Laws of God and Man allow, for our Recreati- on and Entertainment. For the thing required upon this Occaſion is not total Abſtinence, but prudent Moderation. Man is really bound to make this Life a conſiderable part of his Care ; to taſte the Plea- fures of it; nay, to chew the Cud, and reflect up- on them with Satisfaction; for all this is neceſſary - - - - to --- - Ch. 63 Of Regulating our Pleaſures, &c. 159 to ſº and Value of them, and to make him duly thankful, and ſenſible of the Good- neſs of that Providence, which hath made ſo liberal a Proviſion for our Entertainment here below. Do not miſtake; There is no part of that which God hath in bounty beſtowed upon us, unworthy our re- gard: Were it below Us to accept, it would have been much more below Him to give. We ſhall do welltherefore to remember, not only that we may Ičive it, but that we are accountable for every the kaff mite of it. And therefore the Uſe of Life is no jeſting matter; but a Commiſſion, and a Talent, which requires our moſt ſerious Care; that the li- ing in agreement to Nature, and governing our ſºlves by ſuch Rules, as reſult from a due Confidera- tion of it, is an expreſs Duty, impoſed upon us in Very good earneſt, and with an intent to be ſeverely reckoned for., * * ~ * > . . . . - - And Thus much may ſerve to convince us,how un- natural, and how fogliſh a Delicacy that is, which teaches Men to condemn Aćtions as Vicious, be- Giuſ: they are Natural; or to nauſeate and diſdain im, as mean and below their Character, becauſe they are neceſſary. Whereas in reality, Neceſſity and Pleaſure are the happieſt Marriage that ever God made in all .."; of Nature. It is a moſt ºnvincing Demonſtration of his Infinite Wiſdom, that in thoſe Aétions which are of greateſt Uſe and indiſpenſable Neceſſity to human Life, the matter 3. See B. 111. Ch. 38. ſhould be ſo order'd, that ſome agreeable Satisfacti- ºn ſhould always attend them; and that our Senſes hould be : as often as our Wants are ſupplied. Thus are we doubly invited to our Refreſhments; firſt by Reaſon . Neceſſity, and then by Appe- ite, and a certainty of being Gratified. Now your mor ified and Philoſophical Contemners of the World take upon them to invert this Order, break the Rules of Nature, and utterly overthrow this - * * - beautiful Of Wiſdom. Book II. ºr, pline, and good Order. " beautiful Eſtabliſhment. Whereas in truth, it is eve- ry whit as unreaſonable and unjuſt to fall out with : the World, and utterly renounce all Pleaſures, as it is to doat, and be fond of all, and abandon one's ſelf to all Inanner of Exceſs and Abuſe of them. In ſhort, We ſhould neither run after them, nor run . away from them. But when they make their Ap- proaches, and put themſelves in our way, we ſhould receive them kindly, love them moderately, and en- ; joy them ſoberly and diſcreetly; in ſuch manner as will be preſcribed hereafter, when our Method brings us to the Rules proper for this Occaſion. He who values himſelf upon this Abſtraćtion of the Soul, and keeping it in a Separate and Inde- pendent State from the Body, let him give usa Trial of his Skill, when the Body is languiſhing under Sickneſs, or tortured with Pain; and ſhew that he can at ſuch a time preſerve it free, and above the reach of this Contagion. Then Experience will ſhew ſuch Attempts as much out of his Power, as Reaſon argues them to be againſt his Duty. For, if we will conſider this matter as in all Equity and *Common Humanity it ſtands, it is certain the Soul . ought not to abandon the Body, nor caſt off all Fellow-feeling of its Sufferings and Diſtreſſes. It is mere Apiſhneſs and Affectation for any Man to pre- tend to it. The Mind, if you pleaſe, ought to go thus far; It ſhould look both Pleaſure and Pain in the Face, without Commotion or Tranſport; with the ſame Compoſure of Countenance, and Evenneſs of Temper: Or rather let it meet the One with a Severe and Grave Mieri, and the Other with an Air of Gaiety; But let the Circumſtances of the Man be what they will, the Mind is obliged upon alloc- caſions to ſtand by the Body; to lend it Affiftance, to eſpouſe its Cauſe; and keep it in conſtant Diſci. - - - - - - - - - - - Temperance Ch. 6. 0f Regulating our Pleaſures, &c. 16. Temperance, which is the Rule and Standard of Pleaſure, conſiſts in a Mediocrity, and is no leſs diſtant from a Sullen Inſenſibility, which is the Ex- treme in point of Defect; than it is from Extrava- gance and Luxury, which is the other Extreme in Exceſs. For voluntary Rigor and Torment is unna- tural; and ’tis as ridiculous to hate cheap and eaſy Conveniences, as it is mad and fooliſh to purchaſe expenſive and uncommon Delicacies. The Contempt of the World ſounds big in the Mouth; they are very ſolemn and pompous Words, and ſuch as every Man proclaims his own Gallantry in, with great Triumph. But when we come to en- quire into the true meaning of this Expreſſion, and what there is really in it; I cannot for my part think that the Perſons who uſe the Phraſe, know what they Intend by it; and much leſs does it appear, that any of them practice what it denotes, if it have anySenſe or Signification at all. For after all, What does this Deſpiſing of the World import? What is this World, which they repreſent as ſo juſt an Ob- jettof Contempt 2 Is it the Heavens, and the Earth, and in one word, what we call the Univerſe, or whole Frame of Created Beings 2 No; Theſe they allow are no ſuch deſpicable things. What are we to underſtand by it then 2 The Uſe and Profit, the Service and Convenience, which theſe Things are ca- pable of yielding us? What monſtrous Ingratitude would this be to the Great Author and Maker of all theſe things, who in Kindneſs fitted them to our uſe, and provided for our Neceſſities by them 2 What a Reproach and Accuſation upon Humane Nature in general, which leaves us liable to ſuch Neceſſities 2 For after all their bluſtering, I would fain know how they can diſpenſe with the want of Theſe things, or which way they can continue Men, and ſubſiſt without them 2 If then you ſhall evade this Difficulty too, and ſay that you underſtand the World neither M in 16? Of Wiſdom. Book II. in the one , nor the other of theſe Senſes ; but All that you make the Object of your Contempt, is the Abuſe of things Good and Neceſſary ; that is, The Vanities and Follies, the Extravagances and Vicious Exceſſes, which you ſee daily practiſed, and which are the Failings common to all that appear to be fond of living like the reſt of the World; I muſt tell you, That, however commendable your Virtue, or the Deſign of it may be in it ſelf, yet you give it a wrong Name. For what can be more injurious than to call thoſe Things the World, which are no part of it, nor hath the World any thing to do with them 2 So far from it, that Theſe are all of them directly againſt the Order and good Government of the World; and in truth, have no Being, no Foun- dation in Nature, but are purely Additions of Mens making , born and brought up: within their own Breaſis. Theſe are Artificial Debaucheries, the ef- fect of wicked Induſtry and Skill, to corrupt and pervert Nature ; and therefore the preſerving a Man's Self from theſe, in ſuch manner as the Study of Wiſdom, and the Rules, which you will meet with preſently, direét; This is not Deſpiſing the World, which is not one whit the leſs, but would be a great deal more perfect, if all theſe things were taken out of it; but it deſerves much rather to be called, Making a good Uſe of the World, and be- having one's ſelf prudently in it : And thus Divines make a very juſt Diſtinction, between Uſing the World, and Delighting in it. Theſe Philoſophical Gentlemen, I know very well, imagine Themſelves great Maſters, and that they have got quite above the World, and all its Temptations, and Enjoy- ments, becauſe they practiſe ſome affected Singula- rities, and have put themſelves in a way of living, quite beſide the common Road of the reſt of Man- kind. But alas! This is all a Jeſt. The World hath nothing in it ſo Worldly, and ſo particular as theſe - - very Ch. 6. Of Regulating our Pleaſures, &c. 16 3 very Men are; There is a great deal more trifling, and playing the Fool, by Thoſe that pretend to ſhun and live out of it, than by Them that are content to be thought in it ; and if you would find Fond- neſs and Concern for the World in Perfection, you muſt ſeek it in thoſe places, where you hear moſt of running away from it, and ſcorning all its Enjoy- ments. Upon the whole matter, This abandoning all Pleaſures, and ſtifling all our Deſires, is an Ex- treme as culpable, as abandoning our ſelves to them. What I ſay here, is intended as a juſt Reproof of Thoſe Men and their Hypocriſy, whoſe pretended Mortifications, and particular way of making a Fi- gure in the World, ſerves only to ſwell them more with Pride, and fill them with impudent and cenſo- rious Malice againſt all who are not of Their way: But I would not be thought to caſt the leaſt Reſic- &tion upon any Religious Self-denial, or any ſuch Retirements and Auſterities as are practiſed for the Advantage of Picty and Heavenly Contemplation. But ſtill'I ſay, To condemn and diſallow ſuch Ap- petites and 㺠Gratifications without Reſerve, is the Effect of a Sick Imagination; a fantaſtical, mo- roſe, and unnatural Opinion. God himſelf is the s.s III. Creator and the Giver of Pleaſure; and our Duty is Č. 3s. to receive it Thankfully, and not to diſparage the Gift, by charging it with Folly. All that we have to do in the Caſe , is to learn how to enjoy theſe things, and to uſe them ſafely; to harken to the Voice of Wiſdom, and conform our ſelves to thoſe Rules of Behaviour, which ſhe will not fail to fur- niſh us with upon this Occaſion. Now the Direction,neceſſary for this purpoſe may 3. very well be reduced to Four Particulars, Firſt, That Tº...a our Deſires be Little. Secondly,That they be Natural, part, which Thirdly, That they be Moderate. And Laſtly, cºncernith: That they be bounded within a ſhort compaſs, and ...; with regard to one's own ſelf. And theſe are ſuch ; and M 2 Qua- deſireſ. of Wilm. Book II. Qualifications, as, if theſe mighty-mortified Perſons, and magnanimous Contemners of the World would practiſe in good earneſt, I ſhould allow them to be Excellent Men indeed. Theſe Four generally go together. And, when thus in Conjunction, they make up one Perfect and Entire Rule. One might indeed contract them into leſs compaſs; And he that is diſpoſed to ſave his Memory, may comprehend all the Four Qualities in this ſingle Word, Natural. For in truth, Nature, if we would faithfully purſue her Dićtates, is not only the Fundamental, but of her ſelf alone a Sufficient Direction to us, in the ma- nagement of this whole matter. But however, to explain the Thing more fully, and for the making our Notions more clear and eaſy, we will allow each of theſe Particulars a diſtinct Conſideration. 1. The Firſt Branch then of this Rule concerns the Quantity of the Object, and commands us to deſire but Little. The reſtraining our Deſires, and cutting them ſhort, ſo that they ſhall extend to very few, if any Things at all, is of infinite Uſe and Ad- vantage: It is the ſtraighteſt Road to Happineſs; a certain Defence againſt the Aſſaults of Fortune; it ſecures all the Avenues by which ſhe can attack us, and leaves her nothing to faſten upon; It is the on- ły courſe we can take to live Contentedly, and Hap- pily, and in one word, Wiſely. He that can brin himſelf to deſire nothing, the matter is not great # he have nothing; for even upon theſe Terms he is as Rich, and as Great, as he that poſſeſſes all things; They come both to one at laſt ; for in ſumming up a Man's Wants, " it makes no difference in the account, whether you ačually have a thing, or whether you have mo deſire of it. For which reaſon it was well enough obſerved, that Wealth and Contentment were not * Nihil intereſt, an habeas, an non concupiſcas. Ch. 7. Of Agulting our Pleaſures, &c. 1.65 to be attained by Variety and Abundance, but by Scarcity and Nothing; that is, by Scarcity of De- fires; for He that is Poor in Deſires is Rich in Con- tentation. " The Want of Deſires is the true, the great- eff Wealth. In a word, The Man who deſires no- thing, hath made great Advances toward a State of Abſolute Perfeótion, and is in ſome degree like God himſelf. He approaches very near to the Condition of the Saints and Bleſſed Spirits in Heaven, whoſe Happineſs does not conſiſt in having and enjoying all that We value here below, but in not wanting, not deſiring, and being above it all. He that batſ, maſtered, and confined his Deſires , may vye Hippingſ, 2vith Jove himſelf; ſays a Heathen Author. But on the other hand; if we let the Reins looſe, and ſuf- fer Appetite to fly out at pleaſure; if nothing but Abundance will ſatisfy, and we grow Nice and Fan- ciful in the Propoſals we make to our ſelves, perpe- tual Miſery and Torment muſt be our Portion. Things in their own Nature ſuperfluous will then be- come neceſſary and indiſpenſable ; our Mind loſes its Native Freedom, and is enſlav'd to the Body; and all we live for from thenceforward, is only Wanton- neſs and Pleaſure. If we do not moderate our Pleaſures and Deſires, and meaſure all we have, and all we ſeek, by the Standard of Reaſon, Opinion will carry us away, and run us upon Pits and Pre- cipices, without bounds, or bottom. Tor when we once have begun to indulge our Extravagances, there is no knowing where the Luxury will end. At this rate, for inſtance, we may cover our Shoes, firſt with Velvet, then with Gold, after that with Embroidery, and at laſt come to ſet them with Pearls and Dia- * Summe opes inopia Cupiditatum. + Qui Deſiderium ſuum clauſit, cum Jove de felicitate con- tendit. - - M 3 mond: ; > - 166 Of Wiſdom. Book II. monds; And thus when we lay the Foundations, and carry up the Walls of our Houſes, we may riſe from Stone to Marble, and then to jaſpar and Porphyry. This method of enriching one's ſelf hath likewiſe theſe farther Advantages, that it expoſes a Man to no Fraud or Injuſtice, but is agreeable to the ſtrict- eſt Rules of Equity; and it is alſo entirely in every one's own power and diſpoſal. There is no need of going abroad to ſeek for Contentment; it dwells at home ; we need but ask our ſelves, and we may have it: Stop but the Current of our own Deſires, and the thing is done. How unreaſonable is all , the Formality of Prayers, and Vows, and Wiſhes ; all the Complaints we make of Wexations and Diſ- appointments; all the Blame we lay upon God and Nature, and the World, how wicked and unjuſt are they ; when the Reſult of all is in truth no more than This, That we want ſomething to be given us, which none can give , none can procure, but our ſelves; and which we are ſo abundantly provided with Means and Opportunities of obtaining, that we cannot poſſibly fail of it, unleſs we will be want- ing to our ſelves? For after all, Why ſhould I ra- ther beg of another to grant me what I have not, than .# my ſelf not to deſire or be uneaſy for the want of it? " How abſurd is it to think Forture will gratify my Deſires, when I cannot eaſe my ſelf by ceaſing to deſire 2 And wherefore ſhould I ſo far forget the fraily of my Condition, as to indulge my Deſire, 3 If I cither cannot, or will not prevail with my ſelf, whom I have a Right to govern; with what confidence can I pretend to importune others, over whom I have no Right, nor Power; and hope to extort from * Quare potius à fortuna impetrem ut det, quâm a me ne pº- jam 2 quare autem petam oblitus fragilitatis humanæ & - - | - . . " * Sºmec, Ép:#. xv. There, Ch. 6. Of Regulating ºur Pleaſures, &c. 1 67 Them, what, without all this trouble of asking, might have come much better fiom my own Hand 2 Take this then for the firſt Rule neceſſary for the Regulating Mens Pleaſures and Deſires, That the Quantity be rightly adjuſted. For this Little, or to expreſs the thing in terms every whit as true, though more acceptable, A moderate Proportion, and Suf. ficiency of Mind, is the thing that brings Wiſdom and Satisfaction. This is what will content a Wiſe Man, and keep him always in a State of Eaſe and Tranquillity. Upon the full Convićtion of this Truth it is, that I have choſen for my Motto thoſe two ſignificant words; Paix & Peu. Quiet and a Lit- tle. A Fool thinks nothing enough ; he is fickle and irreſolute; knows not what he would have; nor when to have done; and conſequently can ne- ver be contented, becauſe he never knows what would ſatisfy him. Such a Man is well enough repreſented by the Story Plutarch tells of the Moon; which came to her Mother, and begged ſhe would give her ſome New Cloaths that would fit her ; but received this Anſwer, That ſuch a Garment was impoſſible to be made , for ſhe was ſometimes very Big, and at other times very Little, and con- tinually Increaſing or Decreaſing; and how then could ſhe expect to be fitted with a Garment, which muſt always be the ſame, when her own Body was ſo changeable, that its Bulk was never two days toge- ther the ſame? 2. The next Point is, That our Deſires and Plea- ſures be Natural; and this in truth carries great Affi- nity and Reſemblance to the former. For we cannot but obſerve, that there are Two ſorts of Pleaſures; Some of which are Natural, and Theſe are Juſt and Lawful; They have a foundation in our very Temper and Frame, and are imparted, not to Men only, but are exačtly the ſame in Brutes Theſe Appetites and the Gratifications of them are ſhort , and bounded - M 4 in 7 - 168 Of Wiſdom. Book II. in a narrow compaſs; it is an eaſy matter to ſee to the End of them. Now with regard to ſuch, no Man is, or can be poor; tº: all Circum- ſtances and all Places furniſh enough to ſatisfy theſe Inclinations. For Nature is Regular and Abſtemious, a very little contents her; and not only ſo, but ſhe is very well provided too, and puts into every Man’s hand as much as will ſuffice to ſupport him. Thus Seneca obſerves, " That the Suffenance Nature requires, is always ready, and any-where to be had ; and it is very eaſy to come at enough for the ſupply of our Neceſſities; For that which Nature requires for the preſervation of its Being is in reality as much as we need; and ſure we ought to acknowledge it a particular Happineſs, and a ſpecial Favour, that Thoſe things which we ſtand in need of for the ſupport of Life ; as they muſt be had or we periſh, ſo they are eaſy to be had, and no body need periſh for want of them; and that the matter is ſo contrived, that whatever is hard to be obtained, we can be without it, and ſuf- fer no great Prejudice. If we lay aſide Fancy and Paſſion, and follow Nature and Neceſſity, we are always rich, and always ſafe; for theſe will direétus to ſuch purſuits, as all the malice of Fortune cannot defeat. To this ſort of Deſires, we may add too thoſe others, which regard the Cuſtoms of the Age and Place we live in, and the Circumſtances and Qua- lity of our Perſons and Fortunes. For I can eaſily allow, that They ſhould be comprehended under this Head too, though it muſt be confeſs'd, that they do not come up to the ſame degree of Neceſſity with the former. If we will ſpeak ſtrićtly and confider things according to their utmoſt rigour, Theſe are neither Natural, nor Neceſſary; but if they be not * Parabile eſt quod Natura deſiderat & expoſitum ; Ad ma- nam eſt quod ſateſt, . | i. i. - : * ~ ; ; ; ; ; abſolutely Ch. 6. Of Regulating our Pleaſures, &c. 169 abſolutely ſo, yet they follow cloſe in order, and are next to Thoſe that are. They do indeed exceed the bounds of Nature, which hath done her part, when ſhe maintains us in Any Condition; but yet we are not tied to all that Exactneſs, but are permitted to enlarge our Deſires farther; and may, without any breach of Virtue, deſire a Competency, in propor- tion to the Rank Providence hath placed us in. We may, I ſay, deſire and endeavour this fairly and rea- ſonably; but yet with this Reſerve, that it is againſt Juſtice and Reaſon both, to murmur and be diſcon- tented, if we be diſappointed in our Hopes, or de- prived of the Poſſeſſion of it. For Theſe are Addi- tional Advantages, and the Effect of Bounty; all that Nature hath bound her ſelf to, is the Subſiſtence of our Perſons, and we have no Right to depend up- On 11]OTC. But we muſt not omit to obſerve, that there are (as I hinted before) another ſort of Pleaſures and Deſires which we may truly call Unnatural, becauſe they are quite beſide and beyond the Bounds already mentioned. With Theſe Nature hath nothing at all to do; ſhe knows them not; They are of a Baſtard Race; Fancy and Opinion give them birth; Art and Induſtry Cheriſh and Improve them; They are ſuper- fluous and ſtudied Follies; and muſt not be allowed ſo mild a Term, as Appetites, but are moſt truly, and in the worſt ſenſe of the word, Paſſions. I know not well indeed, what Title to diſtinguiſh them by; they are ſo fantaſtical, that it is not eaſy to find a Name, for them; but call them if you will, Luſtings, Longings, Any thing that expreſſes the Whimſy and Impatience of a wild and wanton Mind. Theſe we have therefore ſpoken to already, when in the Firſt Book we treated of the Paſſions at large ; all that is neceſſary to be added here concerning them is only, That the Greateſt part of what Men call Deſires, are ſuch as Theſe; and that They are the proper ſource - * - - - - - - - - - of 17o Of Wiſdom. Book II. 8. See Book III. Ch. 40. of that Miſery and Fretfulneſs we ſee Mankind ſo generally diſquieted by ; and That a Wiſe man will think himſelf concerned to diſtinguiſh his Virtue in no one Inſtance more, than in keeping himſelf abſo- lutely and entirely clear from any Vanities of this kind. 3. The Third Qualification requiſite upon theſe Occaſions, is, That all our Pleaſures and Deſires be Moderate; by which I mean, that they ſhould be guilty of no Exceſs in any reſpect whatſoever. Now This is a Rule of a very large Extent, and capable of being parcelled out into a great many ſubdiviſions, but I think All of them may be reduced to theſe Two ; That neither, firſt our Neighbour, nor ſecondly our Selves ſuffer by them. When I mention other People's Sufferings, I deſign by it, that we ſhould indulge our Selves in nothing that may any way give any perſon diſquiet,by ſcandalizing him, or miniſtring juſt cauſe of Reſentment; nothing that may contri- bute to his loſs or prejudice,by hurting hisPerſon,Eſtate or Reputation: By Our Own ſuffering I mean, that we ſhould have all due regard to our Health, our Leiſure, our Buſineſs, and particularly the Offices of our Calling and Capacity, our Honour, and above all, our Duty. And He that is content with being ſubječt to theſe Reſtraints, and takes care not to break in upon any of the forementioned Boundaries, I ad- mit to be ſuch a one, as exerciſes what I call Mode- ration in his Pleaſures and Deſires. 4. There remains yet a Fourth Direétion, which is, a Short Compaſs, and a conſtant Regard to ones ſelf. For, beſides that our Deſires muſt not be let fly at large, nor our Pleaſures run wild without any Check or Controul; the very Courſe and Figures they move in, muſt be managed and rightly ordered. It is not enough, that a ſtop be put to their Career; but, if the Reader will permit that Alluſion, they muſt not move in a Right Line, but in a Circle, of . which Ch.6. Of Regulating our Pleaſures, &c. 171 which the Perſon himſelf is the Center..My meaning is, They muſt not run out into Lengths a great diſtance from us, as Right Lines do; but they muſt have a conſtant reſpect to, keep near, and quickly return again, to the Point from whence they ſet out at firſt : For This is to terminate in our ſelves; and to make our own Neceſſities and Enjoyments the Subject and the Meaſure of them. And what miſèrable work do They make, who do not govern themſelves by this Reflection ? How wretched, for want of keeping cloſe, and moving round their proper Center, are the Slaves to Avarice, and Ambition; and infinite others,who are follicitous for Poſterity,and contriving to keep up the Family in long diſtant Succeſſions, or upon any pretence, as vain as theſe, run beyond themſelves, and are perplexed for things that no way concern them 2 Such Actions are properly Excen- trical and Irregular, Fanciful and Wain; and yet ſo very frequent withal, that, if all theſe Unreaſonable Projećts were reduced, or quite taken away out of our lives, it is incredible, how great a part of Men's Cares and Anxieties would be cut off with them. - C H A P. 172 Of Wiſdom. Book II. C H A P. VII. Of Tecent Teportment, and Evenneſs of Temper, in Proſperity, and Adverſity. W E R Y Man in this World hath two ſorts of Fortune to grapple with ; a Good, and an Ill Fortune ; or Proſperity and Adverſity, as we com- monly call it. Theſe are the Rencounters, in which a Man ought to ſtand upon his Guard; the Trying Seaſons, when we are moſt obliged to have our Wits about us. The two Schools, by whoſe Diſcipline we are trained up in Wiſdom; the Eſſays, or Touchſtones, which bring Men's Minds to the Teſt; and diſcover whether they be Standard or not. The Common and Ignorant part of the World have no notion of Trial, except in One of Theſe only; They can by no means imagine, how Pro- ſperity, and kind Fortune ſhould poſſibly make a Man work, or involve him in any Difficulty or Trouble ; they hear no Threatning, and ſo they fear no Danger. They are ſo tranſported, ſo giddy with their Joy upon theſe occaſions, that they loſe all Senſe ; know not where they are, nor what they do; and ſo Inſolent, that there is no enduring them. And in Afflićtion again, they are ſo miſerably ſub- dued, ſo perfeótly ſtunned and confounded, that they have no manner of ſenſe left; but are affected with this Sickneſs and Feebleneſs of the Mind, as we generally ſee men with That of the Body, who are always uneaſy and in pain, can bear neither Heat nor Cold, but are reſkets and diſſatisfied in either Extreme. - But Ch. 7. Of Proſperity and Adverſity. 173 But Wiſe Men have quite different notions of the matter; They obſerve and acknowledge a Difficulty in Both ; and think it an inſtance of equal weak- neſs, on Which ſide ſoever the miſcarriage happens. And indeed it is the ſame Vicious defect, and as egre- gious a Folly, for a Man not to be able to govern himſelf in Proſperity, as not to ſupport himſelf un- der Adverſity. . But though all Men of Judgment allow a Difficulty on Either ſide, yet on which hand the difficulty is Greater, they are not ſo perfeótly agreed. . Some are of Opinion, that Adverſity is the harder Task of the Two ; by reaſon of its ex- treme Severity, and that ſenſible ſharpneſs we feel under the ſmart of it. So ſays one Philoſopher, "It is harder to endure, and bear up under Grief, than to deny one’s ſelf, and be moderate in joy; and another, f It is a nobler Vićiory to get well over Hardſhips, than to temper Pleaſures. Others again rather incline to Proſperity, and think This the nicer and more dangerous State of the Two. They obſerve very truly, that Good Fortune charms and gets within us by her Smiles and kind Careſſes; That there is Treachery at the bot- tom of all this Fondneſs; that it unbends and ſof. tens the Mind, enervates all its Powers, ſteals away its generous Qualities, and, as Dalilah dealt by Sampſon, betrays the ſtrength and vigour of the Soul, and reduces the beſt and braveſt Heroes to the Con- dition of common Men. And of This we have frequent Inſtances; Perſons who have been firm and inflexible, ſtood their ground, and born the ſhock of Adverſity with all the Reſolution and Gallantry in the World; and yet even Theſe Invincible Sufferers, whom Afflićtion could not break, Proſperity hath *Difficilius eſt Triſtitiam ſuſtinere, quam a delettabilibus ab, ſtinere. # Majus eſt Difficilia perſtringere, quam Laeta moderari. quickly 3. Which the harder. 174 Of Wiſdom. Book II - quickly vanquiſhed and melted down. Courtſhip and Flattery have cffected what Threats and Blows never could; and Verified that Saying, That Pro- ſperity is no ſuch eaſy matter, but This muſt be En– dured too; (how odd ſoever that expreſſion may ſound) and i is really a difficult and laborious thing to be born. As Full Ears load and lay the Corn, ſo does too much good Fortune bend and break the Mind. It deſerves to be conſidered too, as another Diſadvantage, that Affliction moves Pity, and recor- ciles our very Enemies; but Proſperity provokes Envy, and loſes us our very Friends. Again, Ad- verſity is a deſolate and abandoned State; the gene- rality of People are like thoſe infamous Animals, that live only upon Plenty and Rapine; and as Rats and Mice forſake a tottering Houſe, ſo do Theſe the Falling Man. Now This hath ſometimes that good effect, that when One perceives himſelf thus reduced and deſtitute, and that his own Endeavours are all he hath to truſt to; his Courage is awakened, he rouzes and ſhakes himſelf, collects and exerts all his Powers, and with wonderful Bravery and Succeſs forces his way through. In Proſperity, quite con- trary, Everybody is making their Court by Com- pliments, and Commendations, proffers of Service, and officious Aſſiſtances; and This is a Temptation to Negligence and Security, we truſt to Others, and negleá our Selves; apprehend no difficulty becauſe we feel none, and promiſe abſolute ſafety, while we ſee not our danger; Tillat laſt our falſe Confidences deceive us, and we are fenſible of our Error, when it is too late to retrieve it. Thus much, and a great deal more might be urged on both ſides of the Queſtion, which H ſhall not take upon me to deter- mine on either ſide; For it may be, that it is not capable of any general and poſitive Deciſion, one + Magni laboriseſt ferre proſperitatem. - - way Ch. 7. Of Proſperity and Adverſity. 175 way or other. And the moſt probable Reſolution we can come to in the caſe, is in my poor Judgment This ; That Both the forementioned Opinions are true as it may happen; and that Proſperity is more difficult to ſome, and Adverſity to others, according to the different Diſpoſitions and Complexions of the Perſons concerned in making the Experiment. But if we look at the Thing itſelf, and the Uſefulneſs of it in general, the Advantage ſeems to lie on the ſide of Adverſity : For this is the ſeed and occaſion of great Wirtues, the Field in which the Braveſt Heroes have ſignalized themſelves. For Wounds and Hard- ſhips provoke our Courage, and when our Fortunes are at the loweſt, our Wits and Minds are common- ly at the beſt. : Now the Direétions which Wiſdom gives upon this occaſion are, To preſerve an Evenneſs of Tem- per and Behaviour, through the ſeveral occurrences of Life, and to meet them all with the ſame ſerene compoſed Countenance. A Wiſe Man is Maſter of his Trade, and knows how to manage his Matters ſo, as to make every Thing turn to Account;xLet the ‘Accident be what it wiil, ſtill Virtue ſhall be the reſult fit; asthe Painter Phidia; ſhewed his Skill, in making the ſame Figure repreſented, what form or proſpect ſeveryou put the Piece into. Thus Events are his *Materials, and whatever comes to hand, he will not "filtoconvert into an occaſion of doing good; and how different ſoever the Aſpects of Fortune may be to Him, yet his own face always keeps the ſame Air. "A Wiſe Man (ſays Seneca ) is provided for occurren- 'Adutroſque caſus Sapiens aptus eſt; Bonorum Rector, Ma- §um Vićtor. In Secundis non confidit, in Adverſis non deficit. ... Nº avidus periculi, nec fugax; proſperitatem non expedans, ºutrumque paratus, adverſus utrumque intrepidus; nec illius imultu, nechujus fulgore percuſſus. Contra calamitates fortis contumax; Luxuriae non adverſus tantum ſed & infeſtus: º Præcipuum in humanis rebus erigere Animum ſupra Minas Promiff Fortunæ. Seneca. - c64. 4. Both in com/20%. 176 of Wiſdom. Book II. ces of any kind, the Good he manages, the Bad he van- quiſhes. In Proſperity he betrays no Preſumption, in Ad- verſity he feels no Deſpondency. He neither raſhly courts danger, mor cowardly runs away from it; and for Pro- ſperity, he ſets not his heart upon it, but ſtands well ap- pointed for any thing that happens ; He fears no attack in any kind; the hurry and diſorder of the one does not con- found him, nor the ſplendor of the other dazzle or tranſport him. Calamities find him gallant, reſolute, and inflexible; Luxury and Eaſe he is not only no Friend, but an Irrecon- cilable Enemy to. And, in ſhort, this is his greateſ? Excellence and the juſt Commendation and Character of a Good Man, in all the variety of human Chances, to raiſe the Soul, and get above the Promiſes and Threats of For- tune. Thus Wiſdom equips us for the Fight; She puts proper Weapons into our Hands, teaches us to handle the Arms ſhe gives, and when we are well diſciplin'd, leaves us to engage, as the Laws of Combat, and the preſent Exigence of Affairs, re- quire. When we are to encounter with Adverſity, She provides us a Spur to quicken us, raiſes and whets our Courage, calls up our Reſolution, and hardens our mind againſt it; and thus She inſpires us with the Virtue of Fortitude; When Proſperity engagesus, She puts a Bridle into our Hand to curb and contain us, that our Flights may not be too bold, but all regula- ted by Prudence and Modeſty; and thus She qualifies us with the Virtue of Temperance. Theſe are the two great Cardinal Virtues, which enable us to man- age the Two Extremes of Fortune, and are a Prepara- tion ſure and ſufficient, againſt any kind of Acci- dent, that can poſſibly befall us. All which the brave Epiéfetus intimated his ſenſe of, when he ſummed up the whole Syſtem of Moral Philoſophy in thoſe two ſignificant, and moſt comprehenſive words", Bear and Forbear. Applying the former to what the World Ch.7. Of Proſperity and Adverſity. 177 World uſes to repute Evil, all manner of Misfortune and Diſtreſs ; for Theſe things, as Burthens, are to be ſuſtained with Patience and Conſtancy. The latter, of Forbearing to all thoſe, which in common eſteem paſs for Good things; the Plenty, and Plea- ſures, and proſperous Succeſſes of our Lives, all which require Moderation and Reſtraint. As for any particular Directions, ſuited to the particular Favours or Unkindneſſes of Fortune; The Reader muſt give me leave to beg his Patience, till the Third part of this Treatiſe; where I ſhall have occaſion to treat of this Subjećt more at large, under the To- picks of Fortitude and Temperance. At preſent I ſhall only lay down ſome general Rules and Remedies, againſt Proſperity and Adverſity taken in the groſs; the deſign and buſineſs of this Second Book being to extend no farther than general Inſtructions to Wiſ- dom, without entring into reſpective Caſes, which call for the exerciſe of ſuch Rules; for This you may remember was the Scheme and Method of this whole Undertaking, laid down in my Preface, at our firſt ſetting out. All the general Inſtrućtion, which I think neceſ. ſary in this place, with regard to Proſperity, con- ſiſts of theſe Three Conſiderations. Firſt, That it is a great Miſtake, nay, a great Injuſtice, which thoſe Men are guilty of, who eſteem Honours, and Riches, and other Gifts and Advantages of Fortune, Good things; and reckon them among the moſt ſubſtan- tial Happineſſes of Human Life. For with what pretence can they be called Good : They can nei- ther impart nor improve Goodneſs; they reclaim no Man who lives amiſs; nor can they reform one vicious Habit; nor are they peculiar to, or any diſtin- guiſhing Character of Good Men, but diſtributed promiſcuouſly, and, at leaſt in equal Proportions, :O the Wickedeſt and worſt part of Mankind. And He, that calls them Good in the notion of Happi- N neſs, 5. of Proſpe- rity. Of Wiſdom. Book II. neſs, and places his Hopes and his Felicity in them, hath committed his Treaſure to a Rotten Cable, and anchored his Weſſel upon a Quickſand. For what is there in the whole World, ſo floating and unfaith- ful, as the Poſſeſſion of ſuch ſlippery Advantages 2 They go and come at randome, no body knows how nor why; flow in upon us, and Ebb off again like a ſudden Tide of Water: Like That, they come on with noiſe and obſervation, are violent and fierce in their motions, troubled and foul in them- ſelves; And like That too, they preſently diſappear, leave us drawn dry of all our overflowing Comforts and Joys, and nothing but Mud, and Stench, and Filth, left behind at low Water. The Second part of this Advice, is, To entreat Men, that they would remember, what the Nature of Proſperity is; That nothing better reſembles it, than a Poyſon given in Honey; which, though it be ſweet and pleaſing upon the Palat, yet is fatal in the operation, and Certain Death at the Stomach; and therefore that Men ought to be conſtantly upon theirGuard againſt its treacherous Flatteries.WhenFor- tune ſmiles upon us, and every thing falls out to our hearts deſire; then is the ſeaſon eſpecially for Watch- fulneſs and Fear; then we ſhould be more than or- dinarily ſevere in the Government of our Paſſions, and draw the Reins tight, becauſe we are apter to i. skittiſh, and fly out at ſuch times. Then we ould be careful, that all our Behaviour be ſerious and compoſed, and above all things avoid Pre- fumption and Inſolence ; which are exceeding apt to grow upon us in the midſt of Gaieties and fair Weather. Alas! Proſperity is a very ſlippery Ground, and all a Man's caution is little enough, to ſtand faſt, and tread ſure in it.&There is not any Circumſtance - in the World, in which Men are more diſpoſed to =forget God; it is the very critical Seaſon that pra- = Jamque Faces & Saxa volant, Furor Arma miniſtrat. Tum Pietate gravem ac Mento ſi forte Virum quem Conſpexere, ſilent, arre&iſque auribus aſtant, . . " Ille regit dićtis animos & pećtora mulcet, AEneid Lib. 1, O 3 A. 0f Wiſdom. Book II. Cuftom, Authority. And this is ſupported upon two Baſes. 3 Admiration and Fear; both which muſt go together, and jointly contribute to the keeping it up. Now this Majeſty and Authority is principally and pro- perly in the Perſon of the Supreme Governor, the Prince , and Lawgiver, and in him it lives, and moves, and acts, in its utmoſt Vigor. The next De- gree of it, is, when lodged in his Commands, Or- ders, and Decrees, that is, in the Law, which is a Prince's Maſter-piece, and the Nobleſt Copy of that Incommunicable. Majeſty , whereof himſelf is the Original ; And by this Law it is, that Fools are re- duced from Evil, informed in Good , governed and led to know and do, what is convenient for their own, and neceſſary for the Publick Intereſt. Thus you ſee in ſhort , of what Weight and Efficacy Au- thority and Laws are to the World; how neceiſary, and how beneficial to the preſent Circumſtances, and the greateſt part of Mankind. . . . . . . This Authority is ſtated, fix’d, and agreed upon ; but there is. Another, which comes neareſt of any up to it, commonly called Cuſtom ; a very Powerful, but withal a very Poſitive and Imperious Miſtreſs. This Power is all gained by Encroachment and Uſurpation, by Treachery and Force; it gets foot. ing by Inches, and ſteals in upon the World inſenfi- bly. The Beginnings of it are finall and imper. ceptible; gentle and humble; and frequently owing to Men’s Tameneſs er Neglect; their Lazineſs, and, Yielding ; the Influence of Example, and the Blind- neſs of Inconſideration ; but when it hath once taken Root, and is fix’d by Time, it puts on a ſtern domineering Look, iſſues out its Orders, plays the Tyrant, and will be obſerved: It is to no purpoſe then to argue for Liberty and Right; no Man is ſuffered to #. to move, to look, in contradićtion to ſuch an Efiabliſhment. It ſtops your Mouth with Poſſeilion and Precedent; which indeed are its pro- * * * . . - per ------ Ch. 8. Oledience to Laws and Cuſſoms. 199 per and only Pleas of Title, grows great and more eminent, the farther it goes; and, like Rivers, en- larges its Name and Channel by rowling; inſomuch, that even, when the Miſchiefs and Inconvenience of its ſtill prevailing are manifeſt, yet is it not ſafe to reduce it to its firſt Infant-State; and Men are oftentimes better adviſed in ſuffering under it, than in attempting to diſuſe, or reverſe it. If now we compare theſe Two together; it will - be found, that Lamp and Cuffom eſtabliſh their Au- Law and thority by very different Methods. Cuſtom creeps º' d. upon us by little and little, by length of Time, by “” gentle and acceptable Means, by the Favour and general Conſent, or at leaſt with the Approbation of the Majority; and its Beginning, Growth, Eſta- bliſhment, are all from the People. The Law, ad- mits none of theſe ſlow Proceedings; it is Born at once, and in full Perfeótion; comes to Vigor and Maturity in a Moment; it marches out with Autho- rity and Power, and receives its Efficacy from the Supreme Commander; it depends not always upon the good liking of the Subjects, but is frequently full ſore againſt their Wills; and yet prevails, and takes place, though burdenſome and ungrateful to them. This laſt Conſideration is the Reaſon, why Some have compared Law to a Tyrant, and Cuſtom to a King. Again, Cuſtom, though otherwiſe never ſo engaging, yet never propoſes Rewards or Penalties; But the Law propounds both, and to be ſure threat- ens Penalties upon the Diſobedient at leaſt. Yet, notwithſtanding theſe Differences, the matter is ſo order'd, that theſe Two are frequently capable, ei- ther of ſtrengthning, and mutually aſſiſting, or of deſtroying and overthrowing each other. For Cu- ſtom, though in ſtrictneſs it be only upon Suffrance, yet when countenanc d and publickly allowed by the Prince, will be ſtill more firm and ſecure ; and the Law likewiſe gets ground upon the People, and O 4 ſtands 2 OO Of Wiſdom. Book II. Different and odd Cuſtoms. ſtands the faſter by means of Poſſeſſion, and long Uſage. On the Contrary; Cuſtom will be quaſhed by a Law prohibiting the Continuance of it ; and a Law will go down the ſtream, and be loſt to all the purpoſes and effects of it, if a contrary Cuſtom be connived at. Thus, I ſay, they may interfere to the Prejudice of each other ; but uſually they go hand in hand , and are in reality almoſt the ſame thing, conſidered under different reſpects; The wi- ſer and more diſcerning Men conſidering That as a Law, which the Ignorant and Vulgar, who have little Notions of a Legiſlative Power, or its Sanéti- ons, obſerve purely as a thing Cuſtomary, and be- cauſe it hath been in uſe, without attending how it came to be ſo. - The ſtrange Wariety of Laws and Cuſtoms, which have obtained in the World, and the Extravagance of ſome of them, is really prodigious. It is ſcarce poſſible to think of any Imagination ſo whimſical and odd, but ſome Country or other hath received it as a Cuſtom, or eſtabliſhed it by a Law. I will give my ſelf the trouble of inſtancing in ſeveral up- on this occaſion, to convince Thoſe, who perhaps cannot eaſily ſuffer themſelves to be perſuaded, how much Truth there is in this Obſervation. And here, not to inſtance in Religion, which in the Idolatrous and leſs civiliz'd Countries eſpecially,hath had groſſer Deceits, more abominable Abſurdities, and more ama- zing Variety of theſe, than any other Subject what- ſoever; yet, becauſe it does not fall ſo directly with- in the Compaſs of our preſent Argument, I ſhall paſs it over at preſent ; and confine myſelf to the Head of Civil Commerce; in which alone Cuſtoms, properly ſo called, are uſed to take place; and where the Matter being exceeding obvious to every Under- fianding, it is ſo much the more aſtoniſhing, that Menſhould be carried into ſuch Extravagances. Now Thoſe, which I think moſt remarkable, and fit to be * . men- Ch. 8 Obedience to Laws and Cuſtºms. 7 O I mentioned, are ſuch as follow. The Reputing it an Inſtance of Affection and Pº when Parents live to a certain term of Years, for their Children to Kill, and to Eat them; In Inns and other Publick Houſes of Accommodation, inſtead of diſcharging the Reckoning with Money, to lend their Wives and Daughters to the Hoſt for Payment; The ha- ving Wives in common; The ſetting up Publick Stews for Young Men; The eſteeming it honoura- ble, for Women to be Common, and wearing Tufts of Fringe at thir Garments by way of Boaſt and Glory, to ſignify the Number of their Gallants; The ſuffering Single Women to abandon themſelves to all manner of Filthineſs, and publickly to procure Abortions when with Child; but of all Married Women requiring the ſtrićteſt Chaſtity, and Fidelity to their Husbands imaginable; The Marrying of Men to one another ; The Women going to War, and engaging in Battel along with their Husbands; Wives dying, and laying violent hands upon them- ſelves, either at the inſtant, or very quickly after the Death of their Husbands; The allowing Wi- dows a Liberty of Marrying again, provided their former Hnsbands died by a Violent death ; but if otherwiſe, then debarring them of that Privilege. Inveſting Husbands with an Abſolute, Unlimited, | Uncontroulable Power over their Wives; to Di- vorce them at Pleaſure, without being obliged to ſhew Cauſe ; to Sell them off, if they bring no Children; to Kill them without any manner of Provocation, merely by virtue of this Deſpotick Power, and the Relation the Wife ſtands in to him, and to borrow afterwards from other People ; Women to Bear Children without any manner of Terror, or Complaint ; Killing their Children, be- º' cauſe they are not Handſome, not Beautiful in Com- plexion; not well-Featured, Crooked, or ill Shap’d, or without aſſigning any Reaſon at all; The Feed- ing 2 O2 Of Wiſdom. Book II. Cuſtoms. Examined and judg- ed. ing altogether upon Man's Fleſh; The Eating Fleſh and Fiſh quite Raw ; the Lodging Perſons of all Ages and Sexes indifferently, to the Number of Ten or Twelve together; Making the putting their Fing- er down to the Ground, and afterwards pointing with it up to Heaven, the common Form of Saluta- tion; Turning their Back upon the Perſon they Addreſs, and make a Civility to; and taking it for a conſtant Rule, never to look at the Perſon, to whom you deſign Honour and Reſpect; Obſerving it as a Mark of Duty to gather up the Spittle of Princes in their Hands; Never ſpeaking to the King, but through a long Trunk; Never cutting the Hair or Nails during their whole Lives; To Shave the Hair on One ſide, and Pare the Nails of One Hand, but never to do it of the Other; The Boring Holes in the Cheeks, and other parts of the Face, to wear Pendants, and Jewels at, and the ſame at the Breafts and Nipples; Abſolutely to deſpiſe Death; to wel- come it with Feaſting and Joy; to contend and quarrel for it; nay, to plead and ſue for it in pub- lick, as if it were ſome remarkable Dignity, or ex- traordinary Favour; and to look upon the granting theſe Suits, and being preferred before other Com- petitors in them, as a ſingular Honour; The Eſteemi- ing it the moſt Honourable way of diſpoſing their dead Bodies, and much more glorious than any Bu- rials, to be Eaten up of Dogs, and Fowls of the Air, and to be Boiled or Baked, Dried and Pounded to Powder, and that Duſt mingled with Men's ordinary Drink. Now, whatever Diverſion the relating ſuch Cu- ſtoms as theſe, or whatever wonder it may create, yet if we come a little cloſer to the matter, and once undertake to paſs a Judgment upon them, all then is noiſe and ſcuffle, eager and endleſs quarrel. The Common People are ſo over-run with Prepoſ. feſſion and Pedantick Folly, that They, according to y their Ch. 8. Obedience to Laws and Cuſtoms. zo 3 ſ their uſual Wiſdom, run all down at a venture; and without more ado, condemn every thing for Barbarous and Brutiſh, which is not juſt according to their own Palate, that is, which does not agree with the received Practice and Cuſtoms of their own Country. For they, never looking Abroad, nor un- derſtanding what is done there, can ſee no manner of Reaſon, why their own Local Uſages at Home, fhould not be the only, and unalterable Standard of Truth, and Juſtice, and Decency, all the World over. If you endeavour to infuſe ſome larger No- tions of Theſe Matters, by telling them, That Other People of their Capacity are even with them; That they are every jot as much out of conceit with Our Methods, as we can be with Theirs; they cut you ſhort immediately, by replying, You may ſee by that how Barbarous and Brutiſh they are ; which is but ſay- ing the ſame thing over again; and here they re- ſolve to ſtick. But now a Wiſe Man is more refer. ved, and allows a greater Latitude; he gives them a fair hearing at leaſt, and does not determine haſtily, for fear of too much warmth, and wronging his Judgment; and he is certainly in the right; for there are really a great many Laws and Uſages, which, at firſt ſight, appear inſufferably Barbarous, contrary to all the Notions of Humanity and found Reaſon, and yet if they were ſoberly confidered, (all Paſſion and Prejudice apart) if they did not ſo far approve themſelves to our Judgment, as to be allowed Juſt and Good, yet it would be found that they are not deſtitute of all Colour of Reaſon; but have a great deal to be ſaid in their Windication; and Argu- ments plauſible enough to excuſe Other Men's Pra- étice, though not enough to recommend them to our Own. - º Let us now, for inſtance, make the Experiment in thoſe Two firſt mentioned, which, I muſt con- fefs, ſeem extremely odd, and the moſt diſtant that C3:l 204 Of Wiſdom. * Book II. can be, from all the Apprehenſions we commonly entertain of the Duty and Affection we owe to Thoſe who brought us into the World, and were at the Trouble and Expence of our Suſtenance and Education. Theſe Cuſtoms then are the Killing one's Parents, when they come into ſuch particular Circumſtances; and Eating their dead Bodies. ...The People who receive this Cuſtom, look upon it as the higheſt Teſtimony of Piety and Reſpect; the laſt and fulleſt Proof of their Tenderneſs and ſincere' Affection. The great deſign they have in it is Compaſſion to their old decrepit Parents, whom they think themſelves under the ſtrióteſt Obligations to deliver from a ſtate of Miſery and Infirmity; a State, that renders them, not only utterly Uſeleſs to Themſelves and to every Body elſe, but even a. Trouble and a Burthen ; a State of Languiſhing and Decay, of Uneaſineſs and Pain; that makes Life a Wearineſs and a Torment to themſelves and all about them; and therefore they think That Death which É. them Eaſe and Reſt, and puts them paſt Suf. ering any more, a very profitable Exchange, a Gain, which they might be glad to chuſe, and thankful. for receiving. "When they have done them this Kindneſs, (as they eſteem it ) the next Proof of their Dutiful Regard, is to give them the moſt ho- nourable Burial in their power: And for this pur- poſe they make their own Bodies their Repoſitory; lodging theſe Carkaſſes and precious Relicks in their own Bowels; thus in ſome meaſure conveying a new Life, and recruiting their periſhed Nature, by Digeſting, and turning to Nouriſhment this dead. Fleſh of their Parents, and Tranſubſtantiating it in- to their own living Fleſh. Theſe Reaſons are not . ſo very Contemptible; at leaſt, I am apt to believe, they may ſomewhat abate that Deteſtation, which the prejudice of a contrary Opinion is apt to pro- duce in the generality of People, A Man that con- ſiders Ch. 8. Obedience to Laws and Cuſtoms. 1 of ſiders impartially, will, I believe, allow, That the Perſons who have been brought up to this Cuſtom, may think it ſo plauſible a one, that it will not be eaſy to bring them off from it; Nay, that it may appear in the Eyes of theſe Perſons, a horrible Cruelty, and Abomination, to ſee their Aged Parents lie Languiſhing before their Eyes, in the : midſt of ś and Pain, and Faint Strugglings for the wretched Remnants of Life; without any kind Hand to do the good Office of ſetting them at Reſt. And when Declining Nature hath finiſhed its own Courſe, it is no hard matter to imagine, that Theſe People ſhould with Reluctancy and Hor- :ror Interr theſe Spoils of Thoſe, who gave them Being ; that they might think it a Neglect and a Re- proach to caſt thoſe Remains they ſo dearly Love into a Hole, to Rot in the Earth, to Corrupt and become Food for Worms; that This is the greateſt Diſregard they can poſſibly be guilty of, and a very ill Expreſſion of Tenderneſs and Duty. And, that this Suppoſition is not ſo very much out of the way, we have plain matter of Fact to prove: For Darius made the Experiment, and found it to be exactly as I have put the Caſe. He firſt demand- ed of ſome Grecians, upon what Terms they would be content to take the Indian Cuſtom of Eating the -Bodies of their Deceaſed Parents; and their An- ſwer was ; What do ſo Barbarous a thing, as Eat our own Fathers ? We could not do it at any rate Then again he attempted to perſuade the Indians, That they would Burn the Bodies of their Parents, after the manner of the Grecians; and he found Theſe a great deal more averſe to his Propoſal, and more difficult to be perſuaded , than the Other. Give me leave here only to add one Inſtance more of...Men's different ways of Reaſoning in a Trifling TMatter, and ſuch as only concerns Decency and Civility, A Man that uſed to wipe his Noſe º 1S zoö of Wiſdom. Book II. 6. his Fingers, being reproved for ſo unmannerly * : Trick; deſired in his own vindication, to know, what Privilege that filthy Excrement had above all the reſt, that we muſt pay it the reſpect of a fine Handkerchief, and then, as if it were ſome valuable Treaſure, wrap it up cloſe, and carry it in one's Pocket: That in all reaſon this ſhould rather turn one's Stomach, and give offence, than throwing it careleſly away. Thus you ſee how few things there are, for which ſome probable Reaſon may not be alledged; and This ſhould be a warning to us, not to condemn Things haſtily and raſhly, but to conſi– der both ſides of the Queſtion. º But after all, the Power of Cuſtom is incredible; - The force ºf no Man can conceive eaſily, how abſolute and un- Cuſtom. controuled an Authority it exerciſes over Mankind. He that called it a Second Nature, came far ſhort of the Truth; for it is equal, it is ſuperior to Na- ture; it even contends with, it triumphs over, Na- ture. Whence, I pray, comes it to paſs that Fa- thers never fall in Love with their own Daughters, though never ſo charming and deſirable Creatures? Or why are Siſters ſeldom or never ſmitten with their own Brothers, though infinitely handſomer, better accompliſh'd, and more engaging than Stran- gers ? This Reſervation and Coldneſs does not pro- perly proceed from Nature ; She makes no ſuch Di- ſtinctions; Theſe are the Effe&t of general Cuſtoms and Poſitive Laws, who forbid ſuch Mixtures, pro- nounce them “Scandalous, and Horrid, Inceſtuous and Wicked; but again, I ſay, theſe Characters are fix’d by Divine or Human Inſtitutions; for Nature knows no ſuch thing as Inceſt, nor condemns any Alliances, let the Line or Relation be what it wiłł. - - - 4. . . ... This is ſufficiently plain from Scripture, not only if we conſider the Chiidren and firſt Deſcendents of dilaza, whoſe Cafe made the thing unavoidable. * * But Ch. 8. Obedience to Laws and Cuſtoms. 1 oz. | But obſerve the Marriages and Relation of Abraham Gen. ii. ... and Nahor, and the Deſcendents from Them ; the ...” Matches of Iſaac and jacob ; the Fact of fudah one ...; of the Twelve Patriarchs; Amram the Father of Lºº." Moſes; and other Holy and Eminent Perſons. It xviii. was indeed the Law of Moſes, which Prohibited Pºſt. theſe Mixtures within the neareſt Degrees; And yet ...” this very Law Diſpenſed with that Rule in certain iii. Caſes, not only in the Collateral Line, that of ta- 1 Kings ii. king the Brother's Wife for inſtance, which was an expreſs Command, and not barely an Indulgence, but between Brother and Siſter of the Half Blood; nay, even in a Right Line of Alliance, as betwixt the Son and his Father's Wife; for as to a Right Line in Blood, This indeed ſeems a Crime againſt Nature, and the Example of Lot can give no Coun- tenance to it; whatever Excuſes ſome great Men Seº Cºiºt. have found for his Daughters, who ſeem to have * done this for the ſake of preſerving Mankind, which in the Conſternation they were then in upon the Deſtruction of Sodom, they thought Ail extirpa- ted but Themſelves. But the Law of Nature is an Original Law, and Eternal one too, ſuch as none but God can diſpenſe with, and ſuch as we never find any Example of his having ever diſpenſed with. But then, as for ſuch Inceſts as are Accidental, and Ignorant, and Involuntary, 'tis very likely Tertulli- º Complaint may be too true, That the World is full them. i - Farther yet; Cuſtom commits a Violence upon the Rules of Nature, and overbears them; witneſs that daily practice of Phyſicians, who frequently forſake the Theory, and ſet aſide what Art and Rea- ſon do both concur in, ſo far as the Rules and Grounds of their Profeſſion can diſcover or direct; and take a different courſe with their Patients, in Deference to Experience, and common Succeſs ; Witneſs again thoſe People, who have wrought a perfect . 1 o? Of Wiſdom. Book II. perfeół Change in their Conſtitutions, even ſo as to Eat, nay to live upon Poiſon ; Spiders and Ants, Lizards and Toads; as ſeveral whole Nations are ſaid to do in the Indies. Cuſtom does likewiſe ſtu- pify our Senſes, and alter the Temper of the Or- gan, and the quality of the Impreſſion, and the Report made from it. To this purpoſe are the ac- counts we read of thoſe People, who dwell near the Cataraćts of the River Nile, and indeed a Mill- pool, or a Steeple, or a Brazier's Shop will in pro- portion have the ſame Effect; and, if you give cre- dit to ſome Old Philoſophers, All the World are deaf to the Muſick of the Spheres, which is nothing elſe, but the different Motions of the ſeveral Orbs turning round upon their own Axis, and variouſly juſtling and interfering with one another. In one word, The great and Maſter-workmanſhip of Cu- ſtom is, That it ſubdues and conquers Nature, van- quiſhes every Difficulty; makes thoſe things eaſy by degrees, which ſeemed unattainable and impoſſible; and the Bitterneſs of pain and Suffering it wears out, and ſoftens, till at laſt our Complaints ceaſe, and we are reconciled, even to our Miſeries themſelves. Nay it does not only produce Content, and lay aſleep the ſenſitive Soul, but it manages and domineers over the Rational one too; and exerciſes a moſt unjuſt,and arbitrary Power, over our Imaginations, and Judg- ments. It makes and unmakes at pleaſure: Gives and takes away Reputation and Eſteem ; without, nay ſometimes, againſt Reaſon. It brings Notions in Philoſophy, in Religion, in Politicks, Opinions and Ceremonies, Faſhions and Modes of Living into credit; though they be never ſo fantaſtical and ex- travagant ; never ſo uncouth and diſtant from what Reaſon and Judgment would teach and approve. Nor is its Tyranny leſs formidable in the contrary Extreme; for it as frequently does great wrong, to things in themſelves noble, and worthy of univerſal Advan- Ch. 8. Obedience to Laws and Cuſtoms. zoº) Advantage, by diſparaging and leſſening them, and even bringing them into Neglect, and univerſal Contempt. So unreaſonably does Cuſtom and com- mon Fame raiſe or lower the Market; ſo precarious and uncertain is the greateſt intrinſick Worth, if it happen to be lodged in an Obſolete Opinion, an An- tiquated and Unfaſhionable Virtue ; For all theſe things have their Seaſons of Improvement and De- clenſion; and the Sentiments of the World upon them will vary, though the Reaſon and Nature of the thing be conſtantly the ſame. 4. What we now with greateſt eaſe receive, Seem’d ſtrange at firſt, and we could ſcarce believe; And what we wonder at, as Tears increaſe, Familiar grows, and all our Wondring ceaſe. [Creech. Thus you plainly ſee the vaſt Influence, and ex- ceſſive Power of Cuſtom. Plato was once reproving a Youth, for playing often at Cob-nut ; who re- plied in his own excuſe, Methinks, Sir, under favour, you chide me for a very ſmall matter: No, (faid Plato ) you are mightily miſtaken ; for be aſſured, Young Man, that Cuſtom is never a ſmall matter. A Sentence this, which well deſerves the Serious Attention of Ali, who have the care of educating Youth. Once more. Cuſtom is ſo very tyrannical in the Exerciſe of its Power, and expects ſo unreſerved a Compli- ance, that it will not give us leave to ſtruggle with it, or retreat from it; nay, does not allow us ſo much as the Liberty to conſider, and reaſon with our ſelves, whether what it impoſes be fit for us to comply with, or not. It ſo perfectly charms our * Niladeo magnum, nectam mirabile quic]uam Principio, quod non deſinant miratier omnºs—Paulatim. Lucret. L, i I. P Senſes Of Wiſdom. Book II. / . Advice with re- gard to Laws and Cuffoms. Senſes and Judgment, as to perſuade us that every thing which is new and ſtrange, muſt needs be con- trary to Reaſon ; and that there can be no Juſtice or Goodneſs in any thing, which Cuſtom hath not confirmed, and made current by its Approbation. We do not govern our ſelves by Reaſon, but are carried away by Cuſtom; whatever is moſt in uſe, that we effeem moſt virtuous, moſt becoming ; even Error it ſelf, when it is become Epidemical, hath the Authority of Truth with us. Theſe Complaints of Seneca are but too true in every Age and Place ; and, were only the Plain, and Mean , and Ignorant People concerned in them, the Calamity were ſomewhat tolerable : Be- cauſe theſe Men are not really qualified to enter in- to the true Reaſons and Differences of things; they have not Sagacity enough to ſee, nor Solidity enough to ſearch an Argument to the bottom; and There- fore 'tis the beſt thing They can do, ſince they are not able to diſtinguiſh and judge for themſelves, to pin their Opinions upon the Sleeves of Thoſe that are able, and let Them ſpeak for them. This is a ſafe and a peaceable way, and the Publick finds great Eaſe and Convenience from it. But for Wiſe Men, who are under a very different Character, and have another part to Aćt; to ſee Them led thus about by the Noſe, and enſlaved to every Folly, that puts on the Venerable Face of Cuſtom ; is very much below their Judgment and Quality; and may juſtly be allowed to move our Indignation,that They ſhould ſo far forget themſelves, and what they are quali- fied for. I do not mean by this, that a Man, who would approve himſelf Wiſe, ſhould be Singular and Pre- ciſe, and denounce War upon all Mankind, and their Manners; for my Deſire and Advice is, that he ſhould be very obſervant of the Laws and Cu- ſtoms which are eſtabliſhed, and in preſent force in the Countrey where he dwells: Yet that, not with a Servil: Ch. 8. Obedience to Law; and Cuſtoms. 2 11 Servile Superſtitious Spirit, but from a Manly and Generous Principle: That he ſhould ſpeak of them with Deference, and great Reſpect; and conform his Aétions and whole Behaviour to the Rules and Meaſures they preſcribe. And all this I would have him do; not merely from a Convićtion of their Agreement with the Principles of Juſtice, and Equi- ty, and Reaſon; but without regarding ſo much what they are in themſelves; and upon this Conſi- deration only, that they are Laws and Cuſtoms: Then I deſire he ſhould be very cautious and conſi- derate in his Judgment of Foreign Cuſtoms and Con- ſtitutions, and not raſhly condemn, or take offence at them, upon ſlight and ſuperficial Pretences. And Laſtly, I would have him with all poſſible Seriouſ- neſs, Freedom, and Impartiality, examine into both the Domeſtick, and the Foreign ; and engage his Judgment and Opinion in the behalf of either, no farther than Reaſon will bear him out ; Theſe are the Four Inſtructions, which I ſhall a little enlarge upon, and they contain the Whole, of what ſeems to me neceſſary under this Head. In the Firſt place, All Wiſe Men agree, that the 1. obſerving the Laws, and being governed by the Tºy ought Cuſtoms of the Countrey where we dwell, is the to be com: Great and Fundamental Principle; the Law of P*** Laws; becauſe indeed it is This, which gives Life and Vigor to all the reſt. All affected ways of li- ving that are particular, and out of the common Road, give juſt Cauſe of Indignation and Jealouſy; betray a great deal of Folly, or Conceitedneſs, or Ambition; confound the Order, and diſturb the Government of the World. - - - I add in the Second Place, that This be done out 2. of Reverence to Publick Authority. For ſtrictly Nºt mºre!, ſpeaking, theſe Laws and Cuſtoms ſupport their Cré-ſºº. ſº dit, and ought to preſerve an Authority, not merely ### - with regard to any inherent Equity or Raº. them. - 2 11C1S 212 Of Wiſdom. Book II. neſs to be diſcovered in them; but they are ſacred upon this ſingle Conſideration, That they are Laws and Cuſtoms, though there be nothing elſe to re- commend them to our Obſervance. This is the Myſtical Foundation upon which they ſtand, and the great Secret of Government; and, properly ſpeaking, they have no other Motive but their San- Čtion to enforce them. My meaning is not from hence, That any Eſtabliſhment, though never ſo ſtrong, can derive a Right to our Obedience, upon Laws and Uſages, manifeſtly Unreaſonable and Un- juſt ; but that He who obeys a Law, merely for the ſake of its Subjećt-matter being juſt, though he do the thing commanded by it, yet he does it upon a wrong Principle. For at this rate every Law muſt ſubmit it ſelf to the Judgment of every private Man; and each Subječt ſhall call it to account, arraign and try it at the Bar of his own Breaſt; bring all Obe- dience to be a Matter of Controverſy and Doubt, and by conſequence, all the Right of Adminiſtration, and the whole Civil Polity muſt truckle and ſubmit, not only to the Fickleneſs and Variety of infinite ſe- veral Judgments; but to the Changeable and Hu- mourſome Sentiments of one and the ſame Perſon. That which binds the Law upon Men's Conſciences, is the Authority of the Legiſlative Power; and the Sanétion it receives from thence; the Reaſonable- neſs of the Duty contained in it is only an addi- tional and collateral Obligation. How many Laws have there been in the World ſo far from any ap- earance of Piety or Juſtice, that they have really been exceeding trifling, extravagant, and ſenſleſs; ſuch as no Man's Reaſon knew what to make of 2 And yet Mankind have ſubmitted, nay, and enjoyed as much Peace, and good Order, and been as regu- larly governed, as highly contented; as if they had been the Juſteſt and moſt reaſonable, that ever Hu- man Wiſdom and Policy enacted. Now, he that ſhould ! A. 2 13 Ch. 8. Obedience to Laws and Cuſtoms. ſhould have gone about to create a Diſſatisfaction and Diſlike to ſuch Laws, or attempted to repeal, or to amend them, would have deſerved to be ſuſpected as an Enemy to the Publick, and not to be endured or harken'd to in a wiſe Government. There are very few things, but Human Nature may in proceſs of Time reconcile it ſelf to ; and when once the Difficulty is overcome, and things ſit eaſy upon Peo- ple, it is no better in effect, than an Aćt of Hoſti- lity, to offer at the diſſetling them again. We ſhould always be content to let the World jog on in its own beaten Path; for it is but too often ſeen, that your Removers of Ancient Land-marks, and buſy Politicians, under their plauſible Pretences of Re- forming, ſpoil, and ruin All. - There is ſeldom or never any conſiderable Altera- tion made in eſtabliſhed Laws, received Opinions, acknowledged. Cuſtoms, and ancient Ordinances, and Diſcipline; but it is of very pernicious Conſe- quence. The Attempt is always extremely hazar. dous; there is commonly more Hurt than Good done by it; at leaſt this deſerves to be duly weighed; That the Miſchief, if leſs in it ſelf, is yet ſooner felt; for the Diſorders every Change creates are cer- tain and preſent, but the Advantages it produces are diſtant and doubtful; ſo that we exchange a Good in Poſſeſſion , for one in Expectation only ; and where we ſubmit to That, there ought to be very great Odds in value, to juſtify the Prudence of our Proceeding. This is certain, that Men are but too fond of Novelties, before they have tried them ; and Innovators never want ſome very fair and plau- fible Pretences, to catch and feed their Fancies with; but the more of this kind they pretend, the more ought we to ſuſpect and be aware of them. For how indeed can we forbear deteſting the vain and ambitious Preſumption of Perſons, who undertake to ſee farther, and be wifer than all Mankind be- P 3 ſides 2 2 14 Of Wiſdom. Book II. ſides 2 What an intolerable Arrogance is it in ſuch Turbulent and Factious Spirits, to perſuade Men in- to Compliance with their Humours, at the Expence of the Publick Peace, and to think it worth while, that the Government ſhould run the Riſque of its own Ruin , merely for the ſake of eſtabliſhing a freſh Scheme, and paſſing a private Opinion into an Univerſal Law 2 I have already hinted, and do repeat it here again, That we are not by any means obliged to obey all Laws and Conſtitutions whatſoever, which our Su- periors ſhall think fit to impoſe, without any Di- ſtinétion or Reſerve; For where we find them evi- dently to contradićt the Laws of God and Nature, in ſuch caſe, we muſt neither comply on the one hand, nor diſturb the Publick Peace by our refuſing to do ſo on the other. How Men ought to behave themſelves in ſuch Critical Junétures, will fall more properly under Conſideration, when we come in the rext Book to treat of our Duty to Princes. And indeed this Inconvenience is much more fre- quent upon Subjects, with regard to Their Arbitrary Commands , than the Eſtabliſhed Laws. Nor is it ſufficient, that we ſubmit to Laws and Governors, upon the account of their Juſtice, and particular Worth; but this muſt not be done ſervilely , and cowardly, upon Motives of Fear and Force; This is a Principle fit only for the Meaneſt and moſt Ig- norant; it is part of a Wiſe Man's Charaćter, to do nothing unwillingly and upon Compulſion, but to delight in his Duty, and find a ſenſible Pleaſure in a reaſonable Obedience. He keeps the Laws, for his own ſake; becauſe he is jealous and tender of doing any thing he ought not, and a rigid Maſter over himſelf. He needs no Laws to conſtrain him, in what is decent and good. This diſtinguiſhes Him from the Common Populace, who have no other Senſe or Direction of their Duty, but what Poſitive - " - - Laws | 2 15 Ch. 8. Obedience to Laws and Cuſtoms. Laws can give. In ſtrićtneſs, according to the old Stoical Notions, the Wiſe Man is above the Laws, and a Law to himſelf. But however, he pays all outward Deference to them, and a free voluntary Obedience , This is due from him as a Member of Society, as the inward Freedom of his Mind is owing to the Prerogative of a Philoſopher. In the Third Place, I affirm it to be the Effect of extreme Levity, a Preſumption, vain in it ſelf, and injurious to others; nay, a Mark of great Weak- neſs and Inſufficiency of Judgment, to Condemn all thoſe Laws and Cuſtoms abroad, which are not con- formable to thoſe of our own Native Countrey. This indeed is owing either to want of Leiſure and Opportunity, or to want of Ability, and Largeneſs of Mind for the confidering the Reaſons and Grounds impartially, upon which Foreign Eſtabliſhments are founded. It is a great Wrong done to our own Judgment, to pronounce a Raſh Sentence, which, when we come to a more perfeót underſtanding of the Cauſe, we ſhall in many Inſtances, find our ſelves obliged to retract, and be aſhamed of And it is an Argument that we forget the Extent and Condition of Human Nature; how many, and how different things it is ſuſceptible of. It is a ſhut- ting the Eyes of our Mind, and ſuffering them to be laid aſleep, and deluded, with the often repeated Impreſſions of the ſame thing, the daily Dream of Long Uſe ; and to ſubmit ſo far to Precedent and Preſcription, that Theſe ſhould overbear the plaineſt Reaſon; and give Example the Aſcendent over Judgment. Laſtly, It is the Buſineſs and the Charaćter of a generous Mind, and ſuch a Wiſe Man, as I am here drawing the Idea of, to examine all things. Firſt, To take each apart, and conſider it by it ſelf; Then to lay them one over againſt another, and compare them, together; that ſo the ſeveral Laws and Cu- P 4 ſtoms 2 16 Of Wiſdom. Book II. ſtoms of the whole World, ſo far as they ſhall come to his Knowledge, may have a full and a fair Trial; and that, not for the directing his Obedience, but to aſſert his Right, and execute his Office. When This is done, he ought to paſs an honeſt and impar- tial Judgment upon them, as he ſhall find them, upon this enquiry, to be agreeable, or otherwiſe, with Truth, and Reaſon, and Univerſal Juſtice; For This is the Rule, This the Standard, which all of them are to be Tried and Meaſured by. To Theſe we are Principally and Originally engaged; nor may we ſo far falſify our Obligations, as to depart from Them in favour of any Cuſtoms; q to ſuffer our Judgments to be debauched with falſe Notions, though our National Conſtitutions were Ten thou- ſand times dearer to us, than it is poſſible to ſuppoſe them For Theſe can only claim a Secondary Obli- gation ; the Former was general, and concerned us as Men ; This only binds us as Subjećts, or Natives. of ſuch a determinate place; and ſo the Obligati- on is limited and particular ; and if we pay our outward Obſervance, and ſubmit in our Behaviour to theſe Municipal Injunctions, this part of our Duty is diſcharged; and all Parties have reaſon to be ſatisfied. It is true, Things may ſo fall out, that in compliance with this Second, this particular, and Local Obligation, (that is, in conformity to the Laws and Cuſtoms of the Place where we dwell) we may do ſomething, that does not appear to Us in every point Agreeable to the Primitive and Univerſal one ; that is, ſuch as Nature and Reaſon do not dictate, nor evince the Equity of; but we ſtill are true to this Obligation, by reſerving our Judgment for it, acknowledging that what Nature ſuggeſts, and Univerſal Equity dićtates, ought to be preferred ; and continuing firm in our Opinions, that This is always beii, though it be the Unhappi- neſs of our particular Conſtitution not to be regu- lated Ch. 8. Obedience to Laws and Cuſioms. 2 17 Twº lated according to it. For after all, our Judgment is the only thing we can call our Own, and all we have left to diſpoſe of; the World hath nothing to do with our Thoughts. Our External Behaviour, 'tis true, the Publick lays claim to, This we ought to pay, and muſt be accountable for it ; and there- fore thus far our Laws and Uſages take place. We may very juſtly do, what we cannot approve for any Juſtice or Goodneſs of its own ; and Obey Laws, which have nothing of that intrinſick Excellence, that, had we been in Power, or perfectly Free, we Íhould either have Enacted , or made Choice of them. A great deal muſt be foregone for the ſake of Order and Quiet; for, in ſhort, there is no Remedy; This is the Condition of the World, and, as matters ſtand, Mankind could not ſubſiſt with- Out 15. Next in order to the Two former Governeſſes, Law and Cuſtom, ſucceeds a Third; who with a great many is eſteemed of equal Authority with Ei- ther of the Former; and indeed, Thoſe that ſub- mit, and enſlave themſelves to her, ſhe treats with a more tyrannical, and unrelenting Severity, than Either of the Former does. And This is Ceremo- my, which in plain Engliſh, is for the moſt part no better, than a ſet Form of Vanity. But yet, through Littleneſs of Soul, and the ſpreading depra- vation of Mind and Manners, #. very general among Men; it hath gained ſo undeſerved Honour and Reputation, and uſurped ſuch a Power, and is ſo inſolent in the Exerciſe of it, that a great many People are poſſeſs'd with an Opinion, That Wiſdom conſiſts in a nice Obſervance of it. Under this Notion of the Thing, they tamely come to the Yoke, and liſt themſelves its moſt willing Slaves; inſomuch, that their Health, their Convenience ſhall ſuffer and be loſt; Buſineſs be diſappointed ; Liberty be ſold or given up; Conſcience violated; God and Reli- - gton * 2-18 Of Wiſdom. Book II. gion neglected; rather than they will ſuffer them- felves to offend againſt one of the leaſt, and niceſt Punctilio's. This is manifeſtly the Caſe of Formal Courtiers, and Others, that affect the Charaćter of Civility and good Breeding; This Mint, and Aniſe, and Cummin , is punctually paid, when the weigh- tier matters of the Law are paſſed over; and the Idol Ceremony ſet up in the place , and to the infi- nite prejudice, of plain downright Honeſty, and ſincere Friendſhip. Now I am very deſirous, That the Wiſe Man of my Forming ſhould by no means ſuffer himſelf to be thus Captivated and Impoſed upon. Not that I would have him Singular and Moroſe, as if Wiſdom conſiſted in Rudeneſs, and aćting in Defiance of Ceremony; for ſome Allow- ance muſt be made to the way of the World; and all the outward Conformity we can ſhew, is fit to be paid to the Manners of it, provided always, That this Compliance do not thwart other more weighty Conſiderations. For thus much I muſt needs inſiſt upon, That my Scholar never bind himſelf without reſerve, nor be ſo abſolutely Devoted to theſe ſorts of Reſpect, but that, when he ſhall find it Neceſſary, in point of Duty, or otherwiſe ſhall fee fit, he may have the Courage to Diſpenſe with, and ſhew, that he can Deſpiſe theſe little Niceties. And This I would have done with ſo viſible a Pru- . dence and Gallantry of Soul; that all the World may be ſatisfied, it is not Humour and Affectation, nor Ignorance, or ſordid Neglect, which moves him to a Behaviour different from Theirs; but that he is acted by a right Judgment, and juſter Notions of the matter; which will not let him value theſe poor things more highly than they deſerve; that even where his outward Comportment is ſuited to the Practice, his Will and Judgment are entire and un- corrupted, and have not been perverted to a falſe Approbation and Eſteem: In ſhort, That, however he Ch.9. Of Behaviour in Converſation. 2 19 ! he may lend himſelf to the World when he ſees oc- caſion, and not be Sullen, and Reſtiff, and Particu- lar; yet he will not, nor can it ever become any : Wiſe or Good Man, to ſell, or give himſelf up to the World, by being eternally Supple and Ceremo- - º and devoted entirely to the Rules, and Modes ... Of 10, º C H A P. IX. Modeſt and 0bliging behaviour in Converſation. H IS Particular is properly reducible to the T Topick of Juſtice; a Branch of that Virtue, which inſtructs us how to live and converſe with all Mankind; and to render to every Man, what by any ſort of Right becomes his due. And the pro- per Place for Treating of This will be in the follow- ing Book; where the different Rules and particular Direátions will be laid down, ſuitable to particular Perſons and Occaſions. At preſent you muſt expect only general Advice, That being agreeable to the Scheme at firſt Propoſed, and ſuch as the Deſign and Matter of this Second Part of my Treatiſe is confined to. Now this is a Subjećt, which offers it ſelf to us 1. under a Twofold Conſideration, and conſequentl this Chapter which diſcourſes of it, muſt of jº ty be divided into Two Parts; according to the Two different ſorts of Converſation, which Men uſe, and are engaged in, with the World. One of theſe is ſimple, general, at large, and in common ; ſuch as is made up of our ordinary Company, and that Indifferency in Commerce and A*: - WI11C 22 O Of Wiſdom. Book II. 2. E 'ſineſ: of Humour. which ſome accidental Occaſion, or Buſineſs, or Tra- velling together, or Meeting in Third Places, or fre- quent interviews at places of Publick Reſort, or the Civilities of Wiſits and Complemental Ceremonies, do every day lead us into; and ſo increaſe, or leſſen the number of our Acquaintance, introduce new Familiarities, or change our Old; All, or ſome of which, happen not only with thoſe we know, but with ſuch as we never knew nor ſaw before: And This is a Correſpondence and Converſation wholly owing to Fortune, and Formality; our own Choice hath nothing to do with it, nor did we ſeek or take pains to procure, or contračt it. The Other ſort of Converſation may be called Particular; becauſe con- ſiſting of ſuch Companions as we like and love; Acquaintance of our own deſiring; ſuch as we ei- ther induſtriouſly ſought, and choſe to recommend our ſelves to; or elſe ſuch as when offered to Us, was moſt willingly embraced, and that with a pro- ſpect of Advantage to our ſelves; either for the im- provement of our Minds, or the advancing our In- tereſt, or ſome other Profit or Pleaſure, which we hope to reap from an Intimacy with them. And here, we are not to conſider ſuch a ſuperficial Com- merce as before, but that which is ſtrićter and more endearing, cloſe Conferences, mutual Communica- tion; ſecret Confidences, and great Familiarity. Each of which require diſtinct Rules, and ſhall have Directions apart. But before we enter upon either of theſe Conſiderations, I beg the Readers leave, to lay down One general Rule, which regards them both; and is in truth a Fundamental Principle in the Caſe before us; for which reaſon I chuſe to place it here, as a neceſſary Introdućtion to every part of the ſubſequent Diſcourſe. One very great Vice, which, the Wiſe-man I am all this while forming, muſt be ſure to keep himſelf clear of ; (and indeed a moſt Unſeaſonable and Trouble- Ch.9. Of Behavionr in Converſation. 2, 2 I Troubleſome ill Quality it is, both to ones ſelf, and to all he converſes with) is the being particularly ad- dićted to ſome certain Humours, to keep always in the ſame road of Converſation. This brings a man into ſlavery to himſelf, to be ſo inſeparably wedded to his own Inclination, and Fancy, that he can up- on no occaſion be prevailed with to comply, nor be agreeable to other People; and 'tis a certain ſign of a perverſe and unſociable Diſpoſition; the Effect of ill-nature and ill-breeding; of unreaſonable Arro- gance, Partiality, and Selfconceitedneſs: The Men of this Temper have a rare time on’t; for, whereever they come , they are ſure to meet with Obječts enough, either to try their Patience, or to raiſe a Controverſy. On the other hand, It argues great Wiſdom, and Sufficiency, when a Man hath an ab- ſolute command of his Temper, ſo that he can ac- commodate himſelf to all Companies; and is of ſuch a flexible and manageableSpirit, that he can riſe and fall with the Company, be pleaſant or ſerious, keep pace, and conſtantly make one, with what he finds the reſt diſpoſed to. And indeed the beſt and braveſt Men have always the largeſt and moſt general Souls; and nothing argues Greatneſs of Mind more, than this univerſal Temper; the being always in good hu- mour, free, and open, and generous in Converſa- tion. This is a Character ſo beautiful, that it in ſome meaſure reſembles God himſelf, and is a Copy of his Communicative Goodneſs: And among other things ſaid in Honour of Old Cato, this is one Noble Com- mendation ; * That he was of a Diſpoſition ſo dextrous and eaſy, that nothing ever came amiſ; to him; and what- ever you ſaw him engaged in at that time, he was ſo per- fečily Mafter of it, that you would imagine this, the very thing, which Nature had cut him out for. * Huic verſatile ingenium ; Sic pariter ad omnia fuit, ut na- tum adid unum diceres, quodcunque ageret, Having 2 - 2 Of Wiſdom. Book II. 3. Firſt part. And Ad- vice upon it. Having premiſed this general Conſideration, which is of uſe in both the following Branches of the Sub- jećt, I am now upon; let us return to the former part of the Diviſion, which concerns what I called Simple, and General, and Common Converſation; in diſtinction from that other, which is Choſen, and Intimate, and Particular. Now for Our Behaviour in this Point; there are ſeveral things very proper and neceſſary to be obſer- ved ; and the Firſt thing I would adviſe, is, To be very Reſerved and Modeſt in our Diſcourſe. The Second is, Not to be out of humour with eve- ry fooliſh, or indiſcreet thing; every little Indecen- cy, or Levity, which want of better Senſe, or better Breeding, or ſome unthinking Gaiety of mind may betray Men to : For we are to conſider, when in Company, that we are in ſome degree diſpoſed of to Others, and no longer entirely our Own; ſo that, al- lowing the Thing to have been otherwiſe than it ought, and better let alone; yet it is troubleſome, and impertinent in Us to take offence at everything, which is not juſt as we would have it, or think it ought to be. The Third is, Not to be too profuſe of ſpeaking all we know ; but to play the good Husbands, and manage the Stock of our Underſtanding prudently. For Reſervedneſs is not unbecoming even the wiſeſt, and beſt provided for Diſcourſe; É. far as it argues a Deference to the reſt of the Company, and de- clines that Aſſuming way of talking All. But gene. rally it is adviſeable, that Men ſhould be more incli- ned to hear, than to ſpeak; and converſe, rather with a proſpect of informing Themſelves, than with an Intention to teach the Company. For indeed 'tis a very great fault, to be more forward in ſetting ones felf off and Talking to ſhew ones Parts; than to Learn the Worth, and to be truly acquainted with the Abi- lities of other Men: He that makes it his buſineſs not to ſ l, 223 cº, Of Behaviour in Converſation. to Know, but to be Known, is like a fooliſh Tradeſ. man, that makes all the haſte he can to ſell off his old Stock, but takes no thought of laying in any IneV. The Fourth is, Not to lie upon the Catch for Di- ſputes; nor to ſhew our Wit, by perpetually entring into Argument; and even, when it is proper to do ſo, with regard to the Subject, yet to make a diffe- rence, as to the Perſons, with whom we are to en- gage. We ought not to conteſt a Point with Perſons of Honour, and thoſe that are much above us; it is a breach of the Deference and Reſpect due to their Character. Nor will it become us to do it with thoſe that are much below us, either in Quality, or in Parts; for neither of theſe are an equal Match for us; To the One we are reſtrained by Good Manners; and the Other is to Triumph, where we ought rather to be aſhamed of the Victory. The Fifth Rule is, To be Modeſtly Inquiſitive: For there is a decent and very commendable Curio- ſity, ſuch as with great Innocence and Temper, and genteel Addreſs, endeavours to be informed of all things fit to be known; and when a Man hath at- tained to this, his next care muſt be to manage his Knowledge to the beſt advantage, and make every thing turn to ſome account with him. The Sixth and moſt important Direction is, To make uſe of his Judgment upon all occaſions; for the examining and conſidering Matters well is the Ma- ſter-piece of a Man; 'Tis This, that ačts, and influ- ences, and finiſhes All. Without the Underſtanding every thing is void of Senſe and Life, and in all re- ſpects as #it were not. Thus in Hiſtory particularly, How poor a thing is it to remember the Paſſages we read? The judging of what is done is the Soul and Energy of Reading: But this perhaps you will think a little out of ſeaſon here; and ſo far I confeſs it is, that the aëting this judicious part in Converſition, 1S 7. 2 24 Of Wiſdom. Book II. 9. is what concerns a Man's ſelf, and not the Company he is engaged in. - The Seventh is, Never to talk poſitively, nor be peremptory in any thing : And above all things, to avoid that Magiſterial and Imperious Air, that pre- tends to Dićtate to all the Company; That Stiffneſs and Opiniatrety, which is, of all things in the World, the moſt nauſeous and offenſive. An inſolent dog- matical Humour is what nobody can help being pro- voked at ; and indeed it is uſually a ſign of a Senſe- leſs Ignorant Fellow. The Style of the Ancient Ro- mans was ſo extremely modeſt, that even the Wit- neſſes in their Depoſitions, and the Judges in their Sentences and Decrees, when they ſpoke nothing but from their own poſitive and certain Knowledge, did always ſoften their Expreſſions with an Ita videtur, To the beſt of my Knox'ledge, and This is my judgment. And if theſe Perſons were ſo much upon their Guard in thoſe moſt Solemn Occaſions; what ought the Generality of People to be in Common Diſcourſe 2 Sure it were convenient, for a Man to accuſtom himſelf to all thoſe Expreſſions, that may any way ſweeten the harſhneſs, or take off from the raſhneſs of what we ſay; ſuch as, Poſſibly, As they ſay, In my Opinion, In ſome ſenſe; And ſo again, when we reply to others, to qualify our Anſwers thus, Sir, I do not apprehend you; what is the meaning of that 2 may poſſibly it may be ſo, ſay you ſo 2 or the like. By all which we ſufficiently make our own Senſe underſtood, but convey it in a leſs ſhocking manner. I will conclude this firſt general part of the Chap- ter with this ſhort Admonition; That the true Qua- lifications for converſing with the World, are * an open good-natur'd face, a free air, pleaſing and agreable to * Frons aperta, Lingua parca, Mens clauſa, Nulli fidere. Vide, Audi, Judica. every Ch.9. Of Pehaviour in Converſation. 1 25 everybody; a mind clºſe and ſecret, open to nobody; a Tongue ſober and reſerved, ſuch Diſcretion as is always upon its Guard, and lays not too much ſtreſs upon other People; in ſhort, The Man that ſees and hears a great deal, that talks little, and judges every thing, is perfectly accompliſhed, as to this Point. Let us now proceed to the other Conſideration, Io. and that part of Converſation which is Choſen and Secºnd Particular. And here theſe following Hints may ...,n. probably be of ſome uſe, for the due Government of £º Ollſ ſelves. tion. The Firſt concerns the Choice of our Acquaint- ance ; in which it ſhould be our great care, to find out Men of the beſt Senſe, and ſoundeſt Judgment; and to frequent the Company of ſuch. For by conferring with Wiſe and Judicious Perſons, the Mind whets and fortifies it ſelf; it improves every day, hath ſtronger and higher Notions of Things, and is elevated above its common pitch. As on the other hand, it degenerates and falls off, grows poor, and weak, and deſpicably low ; by uſing the Con- verſation of People that are ſo: For Ill Qualities are catching as well as Diſeaſes; and the Mind is at leaſt as much, if not a great deal more, liable to Infection, than the Body. The Second is, Not to be Surprized, or much Of 11. fended with the Opinions of other People; for how different ſoever they may be from our Own, or from Thoſe commonly entertained in the World; how odd and extravagant, how frivolous and abſurd ſo- ever they may appear to Us, yet ſtill they are ſuited, it ſeems, to the Notions and Nature of a Human Mind; which, like a fertile Soil, is in a capacity of producing all manner of Seed; and therefore it is a Weakneſs in us to be amazed at a Crop, ſo very unlike what grows in our own part of this common Field. Q The * of nº ºn I 2. The Third is, Not to be afraid of Correótion, nor ſurprized or troubled for any rough Treatment, or ſharp expreſſions, which it ſhall fall to our Lot to receive. For Theſe are Things, that a Man ought by all means to harden himſelf againſt, and learn to bear them without being moved. Brave Men ex- preſs themſelves boldly ; they ſpeak and ſpare not; This nice and ceremonious Softneſs,this tender Com- plaiſance, ſo fearful to give the leaſt umbrage, is fit for none but Women, and formal Coxcombs: Men ought to Converſe like Men; their Familiarity ſhould be open and free, maſculine and generous, full of courage and becoming confidence; they ſhould dare, both to give and take Reproof, when occaſion requires. It is but a dull and inſipid Plei; , ſure, to have always to do with ſuch ſupple and well-bred Fools, as Conſent, and Flatter, and Ap- plaud all you ſay, be it True or Falſe, Right or Wrong, Indifferently. I 3. The Fourth is, To make Truth our Conſtant Aim and End ; to direct all our Diſcourſes hither, to acknowledge it wherefoever we meet it, to yield to it fairly and chearfully ; For This is a Mark of In- genuity, to make no difference or reſpect of Per- ſons, but give up our Aſſent to Truth, let it come from what hand it will ; To be Honeſt and Sincere upon all occaſions, and in all our diſputes; and not like Pedantick Wretches, who affect to ſhew their Parts, maintain an Argument, right or wrong, and wrangle for Wićtory, and the laſt Word ; and think it a Reproach to give out, and not Silence their Ad- verſary. The nobleſt Conqueſt, after all, is to conquer one's own Vanity; and the trueſt Glory, is to ſubmit to Reaſon ; for This we are ſure is Victo- ry indeed; but an Adverſary may be baffled by Art and Management; a Good Cauſe may ſuffer by a weak and unskilful Defence; This is not carrying a Point, but triumphing over an Infirmity; and *: - - - OTC i * w ſ Ch.9. Of Behaviour in Converſation: 227 fore all Heat, and Poſitiveneſs, and Paſſion, ſhould be avoided. When a Man confeſſes his Miſtake, owns his Scruples, or his Ignorance; and acknow- ledges, his Faults, when made ſenſible of them; when he can yield quietly and decently to ſtronger Reaſons; This Man ſhews more than common Marks of Judgment, and Candour, and Sincerity ; which are indeed the principal Qualities of Ho- neſty and Wiſdom ; But Stiffneſs and Obſtinacy is an irrefragable Evidence of an ill Mind; and a fire ſign of great, and many Vices and Defects. Fifthly. When we engage in any Diſpute, it will 14. be very adviſable, not to trouble one's ſelf with muffering up all the Arguments that can any way be ſerviceable to us; but rather out of that Wariety to cult out a few of the beſt, moſt pertinent, and ſuch as come up to our purpoſe ; and to put Theſe into as cloſe and ſhort a method, as conveniently we can. For let a Man talk never ſo well, yet he may ſay too much; and the beſt Subjećts may be ren- dred tedious. And indeed, this Affected way of Enlargement, and Spinning out our Diſcourſes; our Repetitions and formal Amplifications, are a cer- tain ſign of a Man's Oſtentation, and Vanity, and lowing to hear himſelf Talk; and as ſuch, it is cer- tain too, to be troubleſome and offenſive, and ne- ver fails to tire, and to prejudice the Company againſt us. - . The Sixth, and indeed the Chief, Directionis, To 15. obſerve due Form and Order, and not to make im- tinent Digreſſions and Excurſions in our Diſcour- Oh the horrid Confuſion, and Wexation, that there is in diſputing or talking, with an impertinent Coxcomb; that ventures at Ali, knows nothing of the Matter, will be kept to no Method, but is eter- nally out of Time! This ſeems the only reaſonable excuſe for breaking abruptly, and renouncing all Meaſures; nay, for leaving the Field, and giving Q 2 quite 228 Of Wiſdom. Book II. 16. quite out. For, what can you expect but Teazing and Torment, from a Fellow, that is Untračtable, and Incorrigible Not to diſcern the Strength of what you offer againſt him, to take his own courſe, to run away with his own Notions, and never Re- ply to the Objections of an Adverſary; to hang upon ſome one word ; to catch hold upon a thing accidental and by the by ; and let go the principal and deſigned Argument of Diſcourſe; to con- found and jumble all; ſuſpect every word; deny every thing at a venture; to proceed in no order; to weary you with formal Prefaces, and unprofita- ble Digreſſions; and after a world of words, no- thing to the purpoſe, to grow Loud and Clamorous; to ſtick to his own Senſe, and not to be one whit moved by all one can ſay ; to inſiſt upon Forms and Terms of Art; and never come to the true head of an Argument, nor know the real Merits of the Cauſe; Theſe are the Qualities, and common Pra- étice of Pedants and Sophiſters, Arrogant and Af. fected Coxcombs. And from this Deſcription we may very eaſily learn, how to diſtinguiſh between judicious and pertinent Wiſdom, and prating Im- pertinence and Folly. This is Bold and Raſh, Hot and Fierce, Arrogant and Aſſured; the Former is never Confident or Poſitive ; but Cautious and Fear- ful ; Modeſt and Reſerved; Calm and Peaceable. The Wiſe Man is full of Reſpect, and free in ma- king Allowances; obtains his Wićtory fairly, and uſes it generouſly; but the Impertinent is full of Self-ſatisfaction and Joy; leaves the field with an air of Gaiety and Boaſting; as taking for granted that the Day is his own ; all his Countenance and Behaviour is triumphant, and proclaims to the Company, that he looks upon himſelf as abſolute Conqueror. - Laſtly. When we are reduced to a neceſſity of contradićting any thing ſaid; particular care ſhould - b: Ch.9. Of Behaviour in Converſation. 1 19 be taken, that we do it not after a bold and aſſu- ming manner; nor betray any thing that looks like Eagerneſs and a Spirit of Contention. For, if it have any of theſe ill Symptoms, it can never be well received; and the Miſchief will be much great- er to the Author himſelf, than to the Perſon whom it is directed againſt. The only way to render any oppoſition tolerably eaſy to the Company, and to be ſecure from any of thoſe ill Reſentments, which are apt to follow upon it, is to contrive, that it ſhould be produced upon the ſpot, and immediately applied to the Matter, which gave the Provocation; that it be not far fetched, not foreign to the pre- ſent Diſcourſe, nor ripping up ſomewhat long paſt and forgotten. It muſt alſo be levelled at the Thing alone, and be free from any Perſonal Refle- tions; nor muſt we contradićt any thing becauſe ſuch a one ſays it, but merely becauſe the Thing it ſelf deſerves, and the vindication of Innocence or Truth requires it. In which caſe, if there be any manner of occaſion put into our hands, it is a very proper expedient, to ſoften the difference of Opi- nion, with ſome particular Commendation of the fºn". oppoſe; But above all things, we muſt be ſure that in all matters of this Nature, we com- mand our Temper; and Reaſon with all the Cool- neſs, and calm Argument; the gentleſt Terms, and moſt inoffenſive Language, that is poſſible. Q 3 C H A P. 23 o Of Wiſdom. Book II. I. C H A P. X. Trudent Management of Buſineſs. HIS Particular does in ſtrićtneſs belong to the Wirtue of Prudence; of which our intended Method hath not as yet led us to treat, but reſerved that to the following Book. And there indeed is the proper place, for inſiſting ſeverally upon the ma- ny Rules and Admonitions, which anſwer to the ſeveral Kinds and Branches of Prudence ; and pro- vide againſt that infinite variety of Occurrences, which call for the exerciſe of it in Human Life. But in the mean while, I will ſo far enter into that Sub- jećt at preſent, as to lay down ſome of the princi- pal Points of Prudence, which may ſerve for com- mon and general Topicks; Thus to inſtrućt my Scho- lar in the Groſs, how to behave himſelf well and wiſely in the common Correſpondence and Com- merce of the World; and to make him a Maſler of his Buſineſs. For the due Management whereof, I would recommend theſe Eight Directions that follow. The Firſt of theſe is, That he would be ſure to knowledge get good Information, and a competent Knowledge of Men and of Men and Things. For the Men he hath to deal Things. with, it is requiſite he be well acquainted with their particular Humour and Diſpoſition, their Under- ſtanding and Capacity, their Inclination, and go- verning Paſſions; their Intention and Deſign, and the Methods by which they move. The Things, or particular Buſineſs, in which a Man is engaged, or which he propoſes to undertake, ought likewiſe to be well underſtood; Whereby I mean, not ſuch a ſlender | 23 I Ch. 10. Management of Buſineſ. ſlender and ſuperficial Knowledge, as conſiders the Appearances only, but a thorough Examination to the very bottom: Such a Diſquiſition, as does not only conſider the Things themſelves in their own Nature, but enlarges and extends it ſelf, to the Ac- cidents which they in any probability may be incum- bred with , and the ſeveral Conſequences they are like to draw after them. Now, in order to attain- ing this Knowledge, it is neceſſary to take a cloſe ° and particular view of our Affairs; to turn them all * manner of ways, eye them in all the different Pro- ſpets they are capable of , and nicely ſcan all the Forms, and Circumſtances of them, which our own Imagination can repreſent them under. For there are a great many Attempts, which have a fair and beautiful ſide, full of Invitation and large Pro- miſes; and yet if you turn the other ſide, look horrid and forbidding, and ſhew nothing but Defor- mity and Danger. Now there is no occaſion to prove the Neceſſity of ſuch a Knowledge as This; becauſe it is ſo very evident, that This is the very Compaſs Men muſt ſteer by; For no Man doubts, but that the different Tempers of Men, and conditions of Things bring us under an abſolute Neceſſity of chan- ging our Meaſures, and making all our Scheme ſuit- able to them. A Man in this caſe ſhould be as vigi- lant, and as dextrous, as the Seamen are; who im- mediately gibe their Sails, and ply their Oars diffe- rently; as the Wind ſhifts, or their Courſe they run, brings them upon different Roads and Shores. And as They could never make their Ports by ſteering al- ways the ſame Courſe, no more could a Man, who always governs himſelf alike in Buſineſs, expectany Other effect at laſt , than that his Affairs ſhould be ruined and come to nothing, and that all the World ſhould deſpiſe and laugh at his Folly. Now, if we do but reflect a very little, how intricate the Affairs of the World are, and how much more intricate Q 4 and 232 Of Wiſdom. Book II. 2- juſt Pulua- tion of 'em. and full of Diſguiſe Human Nature is; The Per- plexity will appear ſo great, as to convince us, that the Knowledge I have here been adviſing, is no ſuch eaſy matter; but that we muſt be content to come at it ſlowly and painfully; for it requires much At- tention, long Study, and repeated Conſideration ; a Judgment clear and ſtrong, and a Mind unpreju- diced and free from Paſſion. The next Leſſon to be learnt upon this occaſion, is That of knowing how to make a juſt Eſtimate of Things, ſo as to give each that real Value, and pro- per Place in our Opinion, which of Right belongs to it. And this is a certain Effect of Prudence and Sufficiency. It is indeed a very high pitch of Phi- loſophy, to be able to do this; and ſuch as a Man ſhali never riſe up to, except he firſt get clear of his own deceitful Paſſions, and the Common received Errors of the World. There are ſome ſix or ſeven Qualities, that ſtrangely captivate Vulgar Minds; and ſeduce them into very miſtaken Valuations of a Thing, which Wiſe Men will take good Care not to be deluded by. Theſe are, The Novelty, The Ra- rity, The Strangeneſs, The Difficulty, The Artificial Compoſure, The Quaintneſs of the Invention, The Abſence or preſent Want, The loſing or being refu- ſed it; but eſpecially, and above all the reſt, the Noiſe, and Show, and Pomp it creates in the World. Thus the generality of People look upon all things to be little better than deſpicable, which are not ex- alted by Art, and Study, and Human Skill; they muſt have them raiſed and refined, to recommend them. Thoſe that are plain and ſimple, and have nothing but their own Native Excellencies to ſet them off, (let thoſe Excellencies in reality be never, ſo valuable ) are ſo far from being had in any re- gard, that they are ſcarce taken notice of at all. They paſs off in the common Crowd, unobſerv'd and unſeen; or, if they are ſeen , yet do they not 1: . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . move Ch. Io. Management of Buſineſ. 233 move us, but are look'd upon as low, flat, and inſi- pid: Than which we cannot have a plainer Proof of the Wanity and Weakneſs of Mankind, who thus take up with Air and Emptineſs, and are content to accept Baſe Metal, and Counterfeit Coin in Pay- ment, rather than True Standard and Current Mo- ney. Hence it is, that Art is ſo much preferr'd be- fore Nature; Acquired Excellencies to Thoſe that are Innate; Things difficult and elaborate, before Thoſe that are eaſy; ſudden Guſhes, and Flights, and impetuous Sallies, before the Conſtancy and Calm- neſs of Habit and Temper; Things extraordinary, above Thoſe that are ordinary and uſual; Oſtentati- on and Pomp, above intrinſick and private real Worth; Things that are Another's, above our Own; Foreign above Domeſtick, Borrowed before Natu- ral. And how egregiouſly fooliſh now is all This? This, I ſay, is the Folly of the Vulgar and the Un- diſcerning; but Wiſe Men obſerve other Meaſures. They take care not to be thus impoſed upon, nor carried away with fantaſtical Notions; but to paſs a ſevere and critical Enquiry; and judge of Things, firſt by their True, Subſtantial, and Natural Good- neſs, which many times is internal, and lies far out. of ſight; And then by the Advantages they are ca- pable of bringing. Theſe are ſolid Foundations of Eſteem, all the reſt is mere Cheat and Deluſion. Now, it muſt be confeſs'd, the being able to make theſe Diſtinétions judiciouſly, is exceeding difficult; for the World is full of Sophiſtry and Diſguiſe; Things have a Thouſand Falſe Faces; and it often happens, that Thoſe which are really Counterfeit and worth nothing, look fairer, more gay, more inviting; than Thoſe that are truly valuable and good. (Nay, Ariſtotle hath ventured to ſay, That in Mat- ters of Speculation, there are a great many Falſities, which carry more ſhew of Probability, and bid fair- er at firſt fight for engaging our Aſſent, than ſeveral * Truths 2 34 Of Wiſdom. Book II. Truths do: ) But then, for our Encouragement, we ought to remember, that as This is a very difficult and laborious, ſo is it likewiſe an incomparably No- ble and moſt Divine Attainment ; and withal, that it is of infinite Uſe, and Abſolute Neceſſity. " How neceſſary is it (ſaith Seneca ) to ſet a true rate upon things 2 And ſo without queſtion it muſt needs be. For, to what purpoſe does a Man inform himſelf in the Rules and Directions for living well, till he be firſt rightly inſtructed , what account he ought to hold thoſe ſeveral Objects in, which his Deſires and Aétions are converſant about 2 Riches, for inſtance, and Health, and Beauty, and Quality, and Learn- ing, what degrees of Good theſe can pretend to, and what Evil he is to expect, or can ſuffer from their Contraries. It is a great Inſtance of Skill in Moral Heraldry, to know the Places of all theſe, and what Precedences are due to them reſpectively; and eſpe- cially, when ſeveral of them meet together, it is not eaſy to proportion our Reſpects, becauſe the Number confounds us ; and indeed all People are not, nor ever will be agreed as to their Quality, which of them is moſt honourable. The Taſtes and Judgments of particular Perſons differ exceedingly; And it is very well they do, for if all Mankind were fond of the ſame thing, they would conſtantly be interfering, and hindring one another. For an Inſtance of what I have ſaid; let us take theſe Eight Principal Sources of all the Happineſs, we can propoſe to ourſelves in this World; whether of Body or Mind. ... I ſhall pair them together by mentioning Four of each ſort; And they are Pro- bity and Health ; Wiſdom and Beauty; Good Parts and Quality ; Learning and Riches. Theſe Terms I underſtand here in the common and received "Quâm neceſſarium pretia rebus imponere 2 - Senſe, Ch. Io. Management of Ruſineſs. 135 Senſe, and do not confine them to a Philoſophical Nicety. By Wiſdom I mean a Prudence and Diſcre- tion in the Government of our Selves, and in all our Converſation and Deportment with Others: By Good Parts, that Capacity, and thoſe Abilities for Buſineſs, which ſuch Perſons are known to be pre- pared and provided with, above others,to whom Na- ture hath been leſs bountiful. And by Learning, that Knowledge of Things, which is acquired by Books and Study. . The Reſt are ſo perſpicuous, that they need no Explanation. - Now what a prodigious Difference do we find in the Opinions of Men, in adjuſting the Place and Precedence, which is pretended to belong to theſe Eight Things 2 What infinite and irreconcilable Competitions are there among them 2 I, for my own part, have delivered my own Judgment freely already in this Treatiſe; I have here mingled them together, and tacked them to one another in ſuch order, that each Advantage of the Mind hath one belonging to the Body, joined ; and ſo joined as to be correſpondent, to it; for as Nature hath united Body and Soul together, ſo ſhe ſeems to have given each of them Accompliſhments extremely agreeable, and alike. Thus Health is to the Body, what Pro- bity is to the Mind; it is the Probity or good Diſpo- ſition of the Body, as Probity is the Health of the Soul. Theſe ſhould be the Sum of our Wiſhes. :* Frgive the Gods the reſt, and ſtand confin'd To Health of Body, and a Virtuous Mind. Says the Poet. Beauty is commenſurate to wiſdom ; the Juſt Mea- ſure, exact Proportion, and Comelineſs, is the Wiſ. * —Mens ſåna in Corpore ſano, dom 236 Of Wiſdom. Book II. º 3 * . Wiſchoice. dom of the Body; and Wiſdom is the Regularity, the Decency, the Beauty of the Soul. Quality and Good Birth is a wonderful Capacity, a mighty Diſpoſition to Virtue; and theſe Spiritual Abilities again, and Good Parts, are the Nobility of the Mind. Learning is the Wealth of the Soul, and Riches the acquired Advantage of the Body. Others, I know, will differ from me in the Method and Order of ranging theſe Qualifications; for ſome put all the Advantages of the Mind firſt ; and are of opinion, that the leaſt of Theſe is more valuable, than the beſt and higheſt of Thoſe that belong to the Body; and others, who go not ſo far, yet may not agree in the Preference due to each Particular. Every Man in this Caſe follows his own Senſe, and from that we cannot but expect great Variety of Judgments will enſue. / In the next place, ſucceeds a Third Qualification, which indeed naturally ſprings out of the former; For, from the Sufficiency of paſſing a juſt Eſtimate upon Things, is derived an Ability of making a Wiſe Choice; and this is, not only a matter of Duty and Conſcience, but very often an Eminent Inſtance of Wiſdom and good Condućt. There are indeed ſome Caſes extremely plain and eaſy; as when Dif. ficulty and Vice, Honeſty and Profit, Duty and In- reſt ſtand in competition ; For the Preeminence in this Compariſon is ſo viſible and ſo vaſt, on one ſide above the other, that whenever theſe things encoun- ter each other, the Advantage lies, and the Balance ſhould always fall, to the ſide of Duty, though at- tended with never ſo great Difficulty and Inconve- nience. In the Caſe of Private Perſons, I mean, for poſſibly there may ſometimes be room for an Exception; but then this does not often happen, and if it do, 'tis generally in the Adminiſtration of Pub- lick Affairs; and then too, it muſt be managed with great Tendérneſs and Circumſpection. But of This I ſhall Ch. 10. Management of Buſineſs. 237 I ſhall have a more proper ſeaſon to ſpeak, when my Third Book brings us to treat of Prudence in particular. But ſometimes there is ſuch a Con- juncture of Circumſtances, that a Man is driven to a very hard Choice: As for Inſtance, When we ſtand inclos'd, as it were, with Two Vices, and there is no getting clear of both. Thus Hiſtory deſcribes that Eminent Father Origen, who had it left to him, Whether he would commit Idolatry, or ſuffer his Body to be carnally abuſed by a Moor: The firſt was the Thing he choſe, and ſome ſay he choſe amiſs. Now, when we are unhappily involved in ſuch Per- plexities, and at a loſs which way we ſhould incline, in the choice of Matters not morally evil; the beſt Rule we can be guided by , is to go over to that ſide, where there is the greateſt Appearance of Ju- ſtice and Honeſty. For, though every thing ſhould not afterwards ſucceed according to our Wiſh or Expediation, yet there will reſult ſo pleaſing an Ap- plauſe, ſuch Glory, and Self-gratulations from with- in, for our having taken the better Part, as will make us ample Compenſation for our Misfortunes, and abundantly ſupport us under them : And beſides all this, If the Worſe, but ſeemingly Safer Side, had been choſen, what Security can we have, that the Event would have proved more favourable? and why may we not reaſonably ſuppoſe, that the Governour and Lord of Us, and all our Fortunes, would have been provoked to puniſh, and diſappoint us that way too? When Matters ſeem to be ſo equal, that we cannot diſtinguiſh, which is the better, and ſhorter courſe, we ſhould take that which is the plaineſt and ſtraighteſt. And in Things manifeſtly Immoral (of which properly ſpeaking there cannot be any Choice) we muſt avoid that which is moſt deteſtable, and hath more of Willany and Horror in it. For this indeed is a Point of Conſcience, and is more truly a part of Probity than of Prudence. But it is . Ottº I? of Wiſdom. Book II. ' often exceeding hard to ſatisfy one's ſelf, which of Two things of the ſame kind is the more agreeable to Juſtice, or to Decency, or which is preferable in point of Advantage: And ſo likewiſe of Two Ill Things, which is the more Unjuſt, more Indecent and Diſhoneſt, or attended with worſe Conſequen- ces. Upon the whole matter then, though the Act of chufing is an Act of Probity and Conſcience; yet the Ability of making this Choice aright is a part of Prudence and ſound Judgment. I am apt to believe, that in ſuch Straights as theſe, the beſt and ſafeſt way will be to follow Nature; and to deter- mine, that thoſe Things which are moſt agreeable to Nature, are the more juſt and becoming ; and that what is moſt diſtant from, or contrary to Na- ture, is more eſpecially to be avoided and abhorred by us. This agrees well with what was formerly delivered in our deſcription of Probity, That we ought to be Good Men, by the Dićtates and Im- pulſe of Nature. Before I go off from this Point of Choice, give me leave to ſay one word or two for the reſolving a Doubt, which ſome People have ſtarted, with re- gard to the Determination of our Wills in theſe Ca- ſes. The Queſtion is, When Two Things are pro- poſed ſo Equal and Indifferent, that we can give no reaſon, why One ſhould be valued more than the Other; what it is that diſpoſes the Soul to take the One, and leave the Other The Stoicks pretend, that it is a raſh Operation of the Soul, ſomewhat Fo- reign, and Extraordinary, and beſide its proper courſe. But let Them ſay what they will, We may be bold to affirm , That there is no ground for the Queſtion; and that no Two Things ever do, or can preſent themſelves to our Conſideration, ſo as to be perfectly Equal and Indifferent to us: It fre- quently happens indeed, that the Difference is very finalſ and inconſiderable; but ſtill ſome difference - there Chio. Management of Buſineſs. 239 there is; ſomething we apprehend in One, and not in the Other, which caſts the Scale, and draws us on to a Choice; though the Motion be ſo gentle, that we ſcarce feel it ; and the Motive ſo ſlender, ... that we know not how to expreſs, and can very hardly give our ſelves any account of it. But ſtill certain it is, that were a Man evenly poized between Two Defires, he would never chuſe at all: For all Choice implies Inclination of the Mind, and all In- dination ſuppoſes Inequality. Another very neceſſary Direction in this Matter, is, That of conſulting with our Friends, and taking 300d Advice. For there is great danger in acting upon our own heads, and depending entirely upon out ſelves; Others will ſee further, and judge better of Our Affairs, than Partiality and Concern will ſuffer Us to do. Now in this Point of Conſulting, there are Two Cautions very neceſſary to be obſer- Ved for the prudent management of our ſelves, and the making this method turn to account with us. The Firſt regards the Choice of fit Perſons to Adviſe with : For Many are much better let alone than applied to, and a Man is as highly concerned to be upon his Guard, and cor ceal his Deſigns from Some ſort of People, as he is to communicate them, and addreſs for Counſel to Others. Thoſe then, Conſulta- tion. who are proper for ſuch purpoſes, muſt Firſt of all be Men of Integrity and Fidelity, that is, fit to be truſted; and then they muſt be Men of ſound Senſe, Sober and Diſcreet, Wiſe and Experienced; otherwiſe they will not be fit to Direct. Honeſty and Sufficiency are the Two Indiſpenſable qualifica- tions of good Counſellers; and indeed, to Theſe we may add a Third Conſideration which ought to Weigh with us very much in our Choice ; and This is, That neither They themſelves, nor any of their Relations, or particular Friends, be at all concerned in the matter we conſult about. For, though you may 240 Of Wiſdom. Book II. may poſſibly Reply to this, That I have ſufficiently prevented any Miſchiefs of that kind, by providing already, that they ſhould be Perſons of Integrity, and whoever is ſo, will not be biaſſed by his own, or his Friend's Intereſt; yet to that I muſt rejoin, in juſtification of this Advice; Firſt, That Honeſty ſo ſtanch, and firm , and Philoſophical, as ſhall be Proof againſt all the Impreſſions of Advantage, is to be met with in very few. It is indeed what ought to be; but as the World goes, it is rather to be wiſh’d for, than found and practiſed. And Se- condly, Allowing the Party we Conſult, to have at- tained this Perfection of unmovable Sincerity; yet it is neither Wiſdom, nor Kindneſs, nor good Man- ners, to drive him to ſuch Difficulties, and ſuch Anxieties of heart, as the asking his Advice in ſuch Circumſtances muſt needs involve him in. This is what we call putting him in between the Milſtones, where he muſt either cruſh himſelf, or us. The other part of Caution, requiſite upon theſe occaſions, regards the receiving Advice, when our Counſellers are choſen. And this muſt be ſure to have a patient Hearing, and kind and grateful En- tertainment allowed it; we ſhould follow and put it in pračtice betimes, and not delay, till we are re- duced to Extremities; we ſhould conſider and pro- ceed upon it with Judgment and Candour, and be well pleaſed that our Friends ſhould ſpeak their Minds freely, and declare the Truth, though it hap- pen to be ſevere and unpalatable to us. When we have taken our Meaſures according to it, in full confidence of the Prudence and Friendſhip with which it was given, we muſt not afterwards repine, or be ſorry that we have been guided by it, though the Event fall ſhort, or prove contrary to our Ex- pečtations. For it is a very common thing for good Counſel to be very unſucceſsful. But a Wiſe Man Cught to take greater Satisfaction in proper Meaſures, and Ch. 10. Management of Buſineſs. 24t and prudent Condućt, though the Conſequence be calamitous; than in the greateſt good fortune ima- ginable, when his Meaſures were falſe and ill-ad- juſted; When as the Hiſtorian obſerves of Marius; "The Raſhneſs of the General was corrected by the Event, and his fault received Honour and Commendation. It is below a Man of Senſe, and agreeable to the Cha- raēter of Vulgar and Ignorant Souls only, to fit down and wiſh they had done otherwiſe; and, af. ter the matureſt Deliberation, and the beſt choice their caſe will admit, to fancy they took a wron Courſe: For ſuch People in their Croſſes and Diſ. appointments, only weigh the Reaſons for the con- trary Methods, without having Greatneſs or Preſence of Mind to counterbalance Theſe, with Thoſe other, Once more forcible Arguments, which induced them to act as they did. Thus much was not amiſs, I thought, to be hinted briefly for the uſe of thoſe who want, and ask Advice; but as for the Perſons addreſs'd to, the Rules fit to be obſerv'd by Them in giving of it, ſhall be ſpecified at large under the Head of Prudence. For indeed Counſel is a very conſiderable and extenſive Branch of that Virtue. . The Fifth Thing, which I apprehend adviſable for the prudent Management cf Affairs, is a Steadi. neſs of Temper; conſiſting in a middle ſtate, be- tween the Extremes of Confidence and Diſtruſt; Aſſurance and Fearfulneſs. And, this is neceſſary • Moderation between Fear and Aſurance. to be well Moderated, both with regard to our Selves, and Others. - - To repoſe too great Confidence in a Friend, and reckon our ſelves abſolutely ſure of him, is very often Prejudicial to our Affairs; and to diſtruſt his Ability, or his Inclination to do us Service, is offenſive to Him; Inſomuch, that where we enter- "Sic correàa Marijtemeritas gloriam exculpá invenit. - R tain J. 24, 2 Of Wiſdom. Book II. tain Suſpicions, though never ſo juſt in themſelves, yet it is not prudent to give any Demonſtrations of our Jealouſy. For no Man loves to be Diſtruſted, ( becauſe every Man loves to be thought to have Power and Sincerity.) and therefore to betray our Diſtruſt is ſure to Diſpleaſe; nay, likely to Provoke, and turn a Friend into an Enemy. But then, on the other hand we muſt be careful too, not to be ſo entirely depending, ſo lazy and ſecure in our Confi- dences, as not to be very much upon our Guard, except it be with ſome very choice and tried Friends: A Man never Rides ſafe without the Reins in his own Hand; only, the Skill of the Horſeman muſt be. hewn, in neither letting them hang too ſlack, nor drawing them too ſtiff. A Man-ſhould never diſ-, cloſe all his Thoughts, and Intentions; but, ſo far as he thinks convenient to communicate his Mind, he ſhould do it with Truth and Sincerity; he muſt by no means Deceive or Enſnare his Friend, and, therefore let him tell True; but he muſt take heed. too, that he be not Deceived or Abuſed Himſelf, and therefore he ſhould take care not to tell All. He ſhould follow that excellent Advice of our Bleſſed Maſter; to Marry the Serpent with the Dove; tem- pering and qualifying, that Innocence and Simplicity which reſtrains a Man from hurting Others, with that Wiſdom and Subtlety, which keeps him from injuring Himſelf; ſo ſtanding upon one's Guard, and Defending one's Self againſt the Cunning In- ſinuations, and Treacherous Deſigns, and unſeen Ambuſhments of our pretending Friends. For Po- licy and Stratagem is as commendable a Weapon, when uſed Defenſively, as it is Diſhonourable and Baſe, when Offenſive. And therefore every Motion #hould be wary and well-adviſed; and in our Ad- vances of Familiarity and Confidence, we muſt ne- veſ. Cngage ſo far, as not to ſecure a Retreat to our Selves, whenever our Inclination ſhall diſpoſe, or : - th: **"... Ch. 10. Management of Buſineſs. 243 the Neceſſity of our Affairs oblige us to it: Nay not only ſo, It is not enough, that our Retreat be poſſi- ble, but it muſt be ſafe and eaſy, without any great Reluctancy in our Selves, or any Damage from Thoſe, in whom we Confided. On the other hand, we ſhould not ſo far be con- fident of our Selves, as to let this grow intoSecurity and Preſumption. If we have Friends, though they do not bear our whole Weight, yet it is not convenient to let go our Hold; nor for any Opinion, either of our own Abilities, or the proſperous Con- dition of our Affairs, to diſdain Another's Help, or grow negligent and remiſs in our Own Care. And yet this is oftentimes the Caſe of Men, who think no body ſo Wiſe as themſelves, or have that Opini- on of their own Power and Addreſs, to imagine every thing will bow before, and truckle under them ; that no body will dare to attempt any thing to their Prejudice or diſſatisfaction; and from Theſe fond Poſſeſſions, come to abate of their Pains, to deſpiſe all Care; and ſo at laſt are abominably over- reached, ſurprized into Miſchief and Ruin, and be- come a Jeſt and publick Scorn. - - Another, and That indeed a very important piece of Advice, is, To take every thing in its proper Time, while it is ſeaſonable, and Occaſion ſerves. And in order hereunto, we muſt be ſure to avoid Precipitation, which is a mortal Enemy to Wiſdom, the bane and confounder of all good Deſigns: And a Vice very uſual, and much to be feated, among People in heat of Youth, and all others of a warm and ſanguine Complexion. And in truth, the knowing how to take every thing in the Nick; to lay hold on every Opportunity and Advantage, and make the beſt of all times, and all means of Action, is one of the maſterly Perfections of a Wiſe and Dextrous Manager. For we are to conſider, that every thing hath its Seaſon, and even the beſt things, - * R 2 aS 6. The laying hold on Oc- cºſions. 244 Of Wiſdom. Book II. as we may order them, may be irregular, and out of due Time. Now Haſt and Hurry is the moſt contrary to that good Quality, that can poſſibly be imagined; for This diſorders, and confounds All ; and ſo at laſt ſpoils All. You know the common Proverb , " Hiſty Bitches bring blind Whelps. This Precipitation is uſually the Effect of ſome Paſſion, which ſpurs us on too faſt, and will not endure to wait till Matters are ripe for Execution; t The im- patience of deſire puts us upon haſtening, and Haft diſor- ders and undoes all; ſo that This is always improvident and blind; Haſtineſ, and Anger are the Two things in the World moſt diſtant from a Sober and judicious Mind. Such is the account generally to be given of it; though it cannot be denied, but theſe Haſty pro- ceedings are frequently owing to Weakneſs, and want of Judgment. Now the contrary Vice of Heavineſs, and Sloth, and Negligence in our Af. fairs, which is ſometimes miſtaken for Solidity, and Thought, and wife Caution, is no leſs dangerous, and deſtructive to our Affairs, eſpecially then, when all Preliminaries are adjuſted, all Reſolutions taken, and nothing remains but the Executive part. For it is well obſerved, That in Deliberation and Conſul- tation a Man is allowed to ſpend a great deal of Time, becauſe then every Particular is to be nicely weighed, every Advice canvaſſed, and out of All compared together, the Beſt to be pitched upon; but when we come to Aétion, the caſe is much other- wiſe, for the Mind is then ſuppoſed to be ſettled, and all Doubt over; upon which account it is, that , we are commanded by the Maſters of Wiſdom, to to be Slow in Counſel, and Swift in Execution; to r i- ''Canis feſtinans cºcos parit catulos. * * t Nam qui cupit, feſtinat ; qui feſtinat evertit; unde feſtina. tio improvida & cºcca; duo adverſiſſima recta menti Celeritas & Ira.- : * : * ~~. . . . 2. - “. ‘deliberae Ch. to. Management of Buſineſ. 245 deliberate at leiſure, but to finiſh apace. It is true indeed, this Rule is not ſo univerſally efficacious, but that ſometimes we ſee Events contrary to it. A Man ſtumbles upon Succeſs, though he run headlong upon it; and proves as Fortunate in the Event, though the Time he took to conſider, was very ſhort; and the Reſolves he made, as raſh and imprudent, as they were haſty; But this is very ſeldome ſeen; and the few Inſtances we have of it are owing purely to Chance; And Chance is ſomewhat ſo di- ſtant from the ordinary courſe of Affairs, that a Man can never depend upon it, or govern himſelf by ſuch Events. On the contrary, He ſhould take great care, That theſe lucky Hits, like a winning hand, do not tempt us to run too great a Riſque, and venture upon them boldly. For, commonly ſpeaking, Gameſters give out Loſers; and all they have to ſhew for their daring Haſtineſs, is only That Proverb, Of Reſolving in Haft, and Repenting at Lei- ſure; Ruin and a fruitleſs Remorſe being commonly the End of ſuch inconſiderate Undertakings. Theſe then are the Two Extremes, which like Rocks muſt be avoided, and with equal care too ; for if we Split upon Either, our Affairs will be ſhipwrack'd and 1. It is as great a Fault to antici- pate a fair occaſion, and ſnatch it, while it is Green and Crude; as it would be to let it Wither and Rot in our Hands. The Former is a Defeót moſt inci- dent to Young Men; whoſe Spirits move briskly, and their Blood boils in their Weins; and whoſe De- fires are ſo eager and impetuous, that they want Pa- tience, and cannot be content to let Time and Pro- vidence bring things to Maturity, and work for them; and ſo theſe ſprightly Men, by ſtarting too quick, run, and catch nothing; The Latter is more proper to Stupid Men, the Cowardly and Irreſolute; the Lazy and Unaćtive. For there is need of a Sprightly and Vigilant Soul to diſcern and to lay R 3 hold 246 Of Wiſdom. Book II. hold on favourable Junétures ; but then at the ſame time that the Soul muſt be awake, we muſt ſee, that it be not Reſtleſs and Impatient. A Man muſt look before him; deſcry Opportunities at a diſtance; keep his Eye conſtantly upon them ; obſerve all the motions they make towards him; make himſelf ready for their approach; and , lying thus up- on the catch, when he ſees his time, lay faſt hold, and not let go again, till he hath done his Bu- ſineſs. - - - 7 - Induſtry and Fortune, The Seventh Direction I would give at preſent, is for a Man to govern himſelf well, and do his Duty to the Two great Diſpoſers, and Superintendants of all Human Affairs; Induſtry I mean, or which in this place comes to the ſame thing, Virtue, and For- tune. It hath long been matter of Controverſy, which of Theſe carries the greateſt Sway; and the Queſtion never was or will be decided to the Satis- faction of all People ; for ſome have a greater re- ſpect for One , and ſome for the Other. Thus much at leaſt is paſt all doubt; that both the One and the Other do a great deal ; both have Power and Credit; and both have a Title indiſputable to ſhew for it; for nothing can be more palpably falſe, than that either of theſe Two does All, and the other Nothing, ; Perhaps indeed Matters would go better, if it were not thus; and Men have reaſon to wiſh, That the whole Authority were veſted in one of them ſingly, For then we ſhould know what to truſt to. Then our Task would be eaſy, becauſe all our Thought and Diligence would be fixed, and de- termined to one Object; whereas now we float be- tween both, the Diſtraction of the Mind renders our Attempts infinitely laborious and full of hazard; and we can very hardly attend to both, and bring them friendly to conſpire together. Daily Experi- cºce proves this Truth to us ; for uſually, thoſe who are Very much taken up with the One, diº - aſl Ch. 10. Management of fuſingſ. 2.47 -— and perfeótly deſpiſe the Other. Thus the Young and Sanguine, the Forward and Daring Men keep Fortune in their Eye, and lay the main ſtreſ, there, as you ſee plainly by their large Hopes, and the mighty Succeſſes they promiſe themſelves in every Undertaking : And Fortune often rewards this Ré- ſpect they pay her, and declares them her Favourites, by the many Prodigious and moſt Surprizing things wrought by them. On the Other hand, Men in Years, whoſe Blood is cold and heavy, and They conſequently calm and ſlow, place all their Expedia- tions in Induſtry: And it cannot be denied, but Theſe act the more reaſonably of the Two. If a Man were diſpoſed to compare them both together, and obſerve what can be alledg'd to determine his Choice on either fide; we may ſtate the Matter very fairly Thus. He that depends upon Induſtry, takes the Safeſt Side, the more Virtuous , and the more Reputable : For admit, that Fortune run coun- ter, and ſpightfully defeat all his Diligence ; yet is there ſtill this Satisfaction left , that he hath made no falſe Steps, that he ſuffered in his proper Poſt, doing his Duty ; aid that he hath acquitted himſelf, as became a Wiſe and an Honeſt Man. Thoſe that take the other courſe, are in F.; of wait- ing and hoping in vain: But if all ſhould ſucceed to their hearts deſire, yet ſtill this is none of Their doing; nor is there really any Credit or Commen- dation due to them for it. But indeed, Wiſdom takes a middle Courſe; ſhe adviſes no Man entirely to devote himſelf to either of theſe ; and though One may be preferred, yet not to that degree, as to bring the Other into abſolute Neglect and Contempt. For ſince Neither can be excluded from our Affairs, it is fit we ſhould allow Both a place in our Regard; and indeed they are often beholding to one another; and an obſerving Man will eaſily diſcern a great deal of Mutual Aſſiſtance, and a very good Underſtand- R 4 - ing of Win. Book W. " ing between them. We muſt take care then to diſ. charge our part to Both, but Both do not challenge our Reſpects alike. For the Preference is abundant- ly on the ſide of Induſtry; for according to that old Motto, "Virtue ſhould lead, and Fortune go along with us, There is yet one neceſſary Caution behind, which is, In all our Behaviour to act with Diſcretion. For This ſeaſons every Aétion, and gives it an agreeable Reliſh. Now Diſcretion is not any One Particular Quality, but a Large and Comprehenſive Wirtue; that mingles with every part of our Duty. Indiſ. cretion ſpoils all; and the very beſt Aétions, if taint- ed with it, loſe all their Beauty, and Commenda. tion. If a Man deſign an Aćt of Beneficence or Charity, This is neceſſary to direét it; for neither all Kindneſſes are fit to be done; nor all forts of Perſons fit to receive them. If a Man would vindi- cate or excuſe himſelf, he muſt do it diſcreetly; for there are ſome ways of Apologizing, which in effed are Bills of Indićtment againſt one's Self; and in. creaſe the Suſpicion, inſtead of clearing our Inno- cence. If a Man would pay Civilities, and appear courteous and well-bred; he muſt diſtinguiſh and moderate himſelf here too; otherwiſe he will run into the Exceſs of Foppery and Affectation; or de- generate into Clowniſh Rudeneſs; and the ſame may be ſaid of Offering, or Accepting, or any other Inſtance of Courteſy and Converſation; or indeed of Virtue in general ; for without this Prudence, and diſcreet Managery, even Virtue, and the beſt Intentions, can never recommend, nay, Can ſcarce juſtify themſelves to the Spectators. :-- _* * Virtute duce, comite Fortuna. , y c H A P. C H A P. XI. The Fruits, or Good Effečis of Wiſdom. The Firſt, Living in a conſtant Readineſs for Death. TH E Day of our Death is the Principal and 2.49 I. moſt Important, of any that belongs to us; The Day ºf That which gives the finiſhing Stroke, and fixes the Death. Charaćter upon all the reſt; for indeed all the Aéti- ons of our whole Life muſt be ſubmitted to this Teſt. This is moſt truly what we commonly call it, The Great Trial; The Eſſay, that diſtinguiſhes our Alloy and True Standard; and it is in the good Suc- ceſs of this Trial, that we are to expe&t the greateſt Fruit of all our Studies. In order to make a true Judgment of Life, we muſt of neceſſity inform our ſelves what ſort of Concluſion it hath; For the End compleats and crowns the Work; and as a Good Death is an Honour to our whole Life, ſo an Ill one caſts back Infamy, and ſullies all that went before. You can never give a Juſt Charaćter of the Player, till his Part be at an End ; and the Caſe of Com- mon Life is ſo far the ſame, that the Management of the Laſt Aćt is incomparably the moſt difficult of any, that belongs to either of them. Epaminondas, one of the Braveſt Men that ever Greece bred, when his Opinion was asked, To which of the Three, he thought the Preference due , Chabrias, Iphicrates, or Himſelf; made anſwer, That this was a Queſtion incapable of being reſolved ; For ( ſays he ) the Man that would determine juſtly of ſuch a Compe- tition 25 o Of Wiſdom. Book II. ' tition for Honour, muſt ſtay till he hath ſeen how - we all Three dye. The Reaſon is evident; becauſe - every other Action of a Man's Life is capable of Hypocriſy and Diſſimulation; but in this Laſt Scene alone All is Natural, and no room left for Counter- feit or Diſguiſe. -- - - - * * * 2 * * * - * For then Mens Words will with their Thoughts agree; And, all the Mask pull'd off, ſhev what they be. - - - , - . . tº Creech. --> → *, - ‘. . . º. º. º 'º - Fortune in truth ſeems to way-lay us here; to drive us upon this as her laſt Reſerve; to make the utmoſt Effort upon our Virtue; and in one moment overturn all that Character and Credit, which we have formany Years with infiniteToil, and Anxiety, been ſetting up. Oh what a Triumph it would be then, to make a Man expire with Laberius his Excla- mation; i. I have lived thisione day more, than it was for my Honour and Advantage to have lived So truly as well as wiſely, ſo every way worthy of Solom, was that Obſervation made to Creſus, which one of the Poets hath illuſtrated thus: . . . . . . .cº. ; : ºf ºf , º, . . . * * * , , , , , ; . . . . . - Man muſt cenſured be by his Laſt Hour, , Whom truly we can never Happy call, , , , ... Before his Death, and cloſing Funeral, ºf Sandys. . . . . . . . . . … 3 * : * > . . . . . - 'Tis without all diſpute a moſt Excellent Attain- - - — --- - * – : -, nº - - - * Nam veræ voces tum demum pedore abimo Ejiciuntur, & eripitur Perſona,'manet Res. Lucret. Lib.3. - * . . . - ... ſ. . . . . - * - . . . . . . . . * * * * * * * - - - ...+ Nimirum hác die una plus viximihi, quamvivendum fuit. - ... ** - ---. . . . . . . i - i. --- ... —Scilicet ultima ſemper . . . . . . . . * Expectanda dies homini, dicique beatus - . • : Ante obitum nemo, ſupremaque funera debet.” - * - r nlent, I Ch, 11. , Conſtant Readineſs for Teath. 251 ment, to have learnt how to dye: It is the Study of 2. true Wiſdom, and that in which all its Rules, and all of know- its Labours determine : He that hath laid out his whole Life upon it, hath put it to no ill uſe; and He, who among all the reſt of his Qualifications is not Maſter of This, hath thrown away all his Time and Pains to no manner of purpoſe. That Man can never Live well, who knows not how to Dye well; and he hath lived to very good purpoſe, who makes a happy End, ( ſays Seneca.) A Man can no more govern and direét his Aétions as he ought, who does not keep Death in his Eye; than an Archer can ſhoot well, who never looks at the Mark. In one word, The Art of Dying as becomes us, is the Art of Liberty, and an Eaſy Mind; the way to get above all Fear, and to live in perfect Happineſs and Tranquility; Without this there is no Pleaſure in Life ; it is im- poſſible indeed there ſhould ; for who can enjoy That with Peace and Satisfaction, which he eſteems moſt valuable and dear, and is tormented with per- petual anxious Fear of loſing every Moment? Now the Firſt and Principal Step toward this, is to make it our Care and conſtant Endeavour, that Our Vices may dye before us; and then our next Care muſt be, to live in conſtant Readineſs and Ex- ing how to dye. pectation of dying our ſelves. Who can expreſs the happy Condition of that Man, who hath husband- ed his Talent, and finiſhed the Buſineſs of Life, be- fore Death approach to interrupt him 2. So that when he comes to j. hath nothing elſe to do but to dye; no occaſion to ask longer time; no farther Bu- ſineſs for this Body; no need of any thing; but can walk out of the World, pleaſed and ſatisfied, like a Gueſt after a full Meal : All this I take to be: comprehended in the Notion of our being always in a Readineſs for Death: There remains yet One Qualification more to be attained, which is the being Willing, as well as Ready; for no Man dies well, - who 252 Of Wiſdom. Book ii. who goes out of the World with ſuch Loathneſs and Reluctancy, that it is mere matter of Conſtraint; and plain, he would fain, but cannot, ſtay here any longer. . . . . . 4- The ſeveral Sentiments and Sorts of Behaviour, Five sorts which Men are capable of with regard to Death, of * may, in my Opinion, be reduced to theſe Five that jº, follow: . . - \ Death. 1. They may Fear and Avoid it, as the Laſt and ... greateſt Evil. . - 2. They may expect and wait for it with great Eaſineſs, and Patience, and Reſignation of Mind, as for a Thing which they look upon as Natural, Unavoidable, and not only Neceſſary, but alſo Rea- ſonable to be undergone. - 3. They may deſpiſe it, as a Matter Indifferent, and of no great Concern to them. º 4. They may wiſh for it, pray for it, make to- ward it, as the only Safe Harbour which can give them Reſt and Protećtion from the Troubles of This Life ; nay; as that which will not only be a Deli- ºr verance, but a Happineſs; a mighty Advantage, as well as a perfeót Security. -- . . . . 5. They may bring it upon Themſelves. . : Now, if we examine theſe Particulars, the Se- cond, Third, and Fourth will appear Commenda- ble and Good; the Thoughts and Reſentments of a Wirtuous and a Judicious Mind; though it muſt be allowed, that as they differ from each other, ſo they are expected to move and affeót the Man diffe- rently, according to his preſent Circumſtances. For All of them are not commendable equally, and at all times. But for the Firſt and Laſt, they never are or can be ſo at all; as being the Vicious Extremes of Weakneſs and Want of Virtue; for how different ſoever the Effects may appear, This is the ſame com- mon Cauſe of them both. I ſhall enlarge a little, and Ch. 1 1. Conſtant Readineſs for Teath. 253 and try to illuſtrate each of theſe Particulars, in this Chapter. The Firſt is what no underſtanding Perſon hath ever pretended to approve, though indeed it be the Pračtice (the Failing I ought to ſay, ) of almoſt all .the World. And what can be a greater Re- proach what a more undeniable Evidence of the Weakneſs of Mankind, than that Every body in a manner ſhould be guilty of That, which No body dares undertake to defend ? But on the contrary, againſt Thoſe, who labour under this painful Folly, in Tenderneſs for Themſelves; or are thus concerned upon the account of Others, we can never want Plenty of Arguments. Among others, Theſe fol- lowing Conſiderations may perhaps do ſomething toward ſoftning the Approach of our own Death, Fear of Death. or that of our Friends to us. There is not in the The effº World any Calamity, which Mortals have ſuch ama- ºf "an o- as Death; and yet it is very evident, there is no- thing they call a Misfortune, dreaded upon ſuch Poor, ſuch Inſignificant Grounds; nay, I muſt re- voke thoſe words, Dreading and Misfortune too ; and dare venture to affirm, there is not any thing which ought to be received with greater Satisfaction, and a more reſolved Mind. So that we muſt be forced to confeſs, in deſpight of all the Sophiſtry of Fleſh and Blood to the contrary, that This is a mere Vulgar Error; Opinion hath charm'd and captivated all the World; for Reaſon hath no hand at all in it. We take it upon truſt from the Ignorant and Un- thinking Multitude; and believe it a very great Evil, becauſe They tell us ſo; but when Wiſdom aſſures us, that it is a Deliverance and ſure Repoſe from all the Evils that can poſſibly befall us ; the on- ly Haven where we can lye ſafely, after the Waves and Storms of a Troubleſome Toſſing World, ºve zing Notions, and live in ſuch conſtant Terror of, ” turn the deaf Ear, and believe not one word ſhe can - - - - ſay, 254 Of Wiſdom. Book II. ſay. Thus much is certain: Death, when ačtually preſent, never did any body hurt; and none of thoſe many Millions, who have made the Experi- ment, and now know what it is, have made any Complaints of this nature concerning it. If then Death muſt be called an Evil, it hath this to ſay in its own Vindication; That of all the Evils which are, or ever were in the World, This is the only one that does no body harm ; and in truth, the mighty Dread of it proceeds merely from ghaſtly and mon- ſtrous Ideas, which Men's vain Imaginations form of it at a diſtance. There is nothing of Foundation or Reality at the bottom: 'tis all Opinion and Fan- cy; nay, 'tis the very Inſtance, in which Opi- nion pretends moſt to ſet up againſt Reaſon; and attempts to fright us out of our Wits, by ſhewing the hideous Wizor of Death: For, Reaſon to fear it there can be none; becauſe we are ſo perfectly igno- rant what it is. How Unaccountable is our Con- cern, how almoſt Impoſſible indeed, for a Thing, of which we have little or no Notion 2 Upon which account, He, who had Apollo's Teſtimony for the Wiſeſt Man living, ſaid, that To fear Death, was to pretend to be more knowing than one really was; and a vain Affectation of Wiſdom; for it was to make the World believe a Man underſtands a thing, which neither He, nor any body elſe underſtands: And we find, that this was his real Senſe, by the Teſtimony his Practice gave to it. For when his Friends importuned him to plead for his Life, and juſtify himſelf againſt the Calumnies of his Accuſers, the Addreſs he made upon that Occaſion, we are told, was to this Effect. “Gentlemen. H I ſhould make it my requeſt, “ That you would not put me to Death, I am un- “ der ſome apprehenſions of asking a Puniſhment, “ inſtead of a Favour; and ſuing to my own Diſ. “ advantage. For I muſt ingenuouſly confeſs, I do - “ not Ch. 1 1." Conſtant ſeadineſs for Teath. 255 ‘‘ not at all know what it is to Die; nor what Good ‘‘ or Ill is conſequent upon it. They who fear * Death muſt in reaſon preſuppoſe ſome Notices of it, for my own part, I declare I have none; nor ‘‘ can I tell at all, either what ſort of Paſſage that ‘‘ is , which leads into the other World ; or how ‘‘ Matters ſtand there; ſo that for ought I know to “ the contrary, both the One and the Other, the “Condition and the Way to it, may be exceedin “Deſirable, and full of Felicity. As for jä “ things, which I know to be Evil, ſuch as Inju- “ſtice and Wrong, I have the greateſt abhorrence “ of them, and avoid them...with all poſſible Cir- “cumſpection and Care ; But for ſuch as I know “ nothing of, I know as little how to Hate, or to: “Fear them. Now Death I own is one of Theſe ; “ and therefore, Gentlemen, I leave the Matter “wholly to You. For really I cannot be ſatisfied, “whether is beſt for me; to Die or not to Die; “ and therefore I hope you will Order what is “ really beſt ; and I am perfectly content you “ſhould determine and diſpoſe of me, as you think << fit. And why this mighty Trouble and Concern upon the account of Death 2 This in the Firſt Place is moſt deſpicable Weakneſs, and ſcandalous Cowar- dice. The mereſt Woman, the moſt tender-hearted Wretch alive can Compoſe her ſelf in a few Days, and put an End to the juſteſt Paſſion, for the Loſs of a Husband, or a Child; and what a Diſparage- ment is it to Reaſon, and Wiſdom, that They ſhould not effect that preſently, which in a little while will do itſelf? The moſt Ignorant and poor Spirited Man alive can do it with the help of Time ; And why ſhould not a Wiſe and Brave Man do it without that Advantage : For what is Wiſdom, and Reſolution, and Gallantry of Soul good for, or how ſhall we diſtinguiſh it, if it do not quicken a Man's pace, and of Waak- neſ. Of Wiſdom. Book II. º 7. of Inju- ſtice. and render him more expert and dextrous; ſo that he ſhall be able to do Greater things, and to diſpatch them with greater eaſe and ſpeed, than Others, who are deſtitute of theſe Accompliſhments? From the ſame Weakneſs and Irreſolution it is, that the Ge- nerality of Dying Men, are never ſenſible of their laſt Hours; but ſtill flatter themſelves with Expecta- tions of perfect Recovery, or longer Delay at leaſt; and perhaps, there is no one paſſage of our Lives comparable to this part for Cheat and Deluſion; none that equally ſooths, and amuſes us with vain hopes. Not that I aſcribe this wholly to Weakneſs neither; for poſſibly Vanity may contribute a great deal toward it. We look upon our Death, as a matter of mighty Conſequence, a ſtrange and moſt important Revolution; in which the whole World is concerned; and can ſcarce be brought to imagine, that Providence will permit a Calamity, in which all Nature muſt ſuffer, and this orderly and Beauti- ful Syſtem of the Univerſe End, and Periſh. So extravagant are the Notions we entertain of our Selves, and of the importance we are of to God and the World. Beſides all this ; ſuch a Man is evidently guilty of Injuſtice. For if Death be really a Good and a De- ſirable thing, Wherefore are we afraid of it? And if it be otherwiſe, Why do we make it worſe? This is to aggravate and multiply upon our ſelves the very Thing we pretend moſt to be afraid of; and to create new Pains, and Torments , which Death knows nothing of, nor would ever bring upon us. / This is a Fool-hardy Madneſs, like his, who, when an Enemy had Robbed him of one part of his Goods, threw the reſt into the Sea, to ſhew how little he valued the Injury his Plunderer had done him. Laſtly. To Live in fear of Death is the greateſt Injury a Man can be guilty of to Himſelf; the ſpightfulleſt way of deſtroying his own Life. For 8. "Tº preju- dicial to Life. - - 110 I Ch. 11. Conſtant Readinºſ, for Teath. 157 no Man, who hath this Dread perpetually upon him, can ever have any tolerable Enjoyment of himſelf or the World. He only lives truly free and at eaſe, who is got above the Fears of Death: And on the other hand, Life were no better than perpetual Sla- very, if the Liberty of Dying were taken away. Death is in effect the only Foundation, and Support of all the Freedom we can make any Pretenſions to; The ſure, and common Retreat from all our Suffer- ings and Hardſhips. A Man therefore muſt needs be very wretched and uneaſy, (and yet thus wretched are almoſt all Mankind ) who takes off the Quiet and Enjoyment of Life, by an anxious Concern and Fear to dye; and loſes all the Benefit of Death too, by an immoderate Fondneſs, and afflićting Solicitude for Life. And yet, as full of Diſcontent as People general- ly are with the preſent Order and Conſtitution of Things; what loud Complaints, what Eternal Mur- murings, may we very reaſonably ſuppoſe, would have filled their Mouths, if it had been otherwiſe 2 How would Nature and Providence have been cur- ſed, condemned, and blaſphemed, if Men had been under a fatal Neceſſity of dwelling always here, whether they would or no; and no ſuch kind Re- lief, as Death is, had been provided for them? Think with your ſelf, how much more Inſupportable, how much more Grievous and Burdenſome a Life muſt needs be, without any Period aſſigned for it ; than that Life we now lead, which is attended with a Neceſſity of leaving it, but of laying down the Load that oppreſſes us along with it too? To this purpoſe it is, that the Poets tell us, Chiron refuſed to be Immortal, when it was proffered him, upon re- ceiving Information from the God of Time (his Father Saturn ) what hard Conditions the Gift was clogged with. On the other hand, What would be- come of the World, if there were not ſºmaling Ol 9. 258 Of Wiſdom. Book II. E. C. of Pain and Bitterneſs, which ſhould diſcourage us, and create in us ſome Averſion to Dying 2 There is no doubt to be made, but were it not for this Check upon our Nature, Men would run out of the World eagerly, greedily embrace Death, and upon every little Pett take Sanétuary here, without any manner of Judgment or Diſtinétion, how far the Provocati- on ought to carry them. We muſt therefore upon ſecond Thoughts confeſs, that this Mixture is made with Diſcretion ; fit to preſerve us in a due Mode- ration; ſo as neither to be fond of Life, nor pee- viſhly weary of it; and ſo again, as neither to be afraid of Death, nor to court and haſten to it; both the One and the Other are tempered with Sweet, and allayed with Bitter; enough of the One to re- commend and make it Tolerable ; and ſo much of the Other too, as will keep it from being the Objećt of any Paſſion in Extremes. So neceſſary are the Ingredients, ſo juſt the Proportions; ſo skilful, and withal ſo tender of our Good, the Hand that min- gled them. Now the Remedy, which the Vulgar preſcribe againſt the Fears I have been condemning, is much too dull and ſtupid; For They adviſe a Man to ba- niſh all Uneaſineſſes of this kind, by ſtriving to for- get the Occaſion of them, and drawing off the Mind to ſomething elſe. 'Tis upon this Account, that you find them always bid their Friends never Think of Death, and can by no means bear to hear it Named: But ſure This is for many Reaſons ave- ry improper Preſcription. For, in the firſt place, ſuch an odd careleſs Temper as This, is ſomewhat ſo contrary to a Man of Parts and Judgment, ſome- what ſo like a State of Thoughtleſsneſs and Inſenſi- bility, that none but the Ignorant and the Heavy ſeem capable of the Medicine: Application and Good Senſe cannot Doze away a Life at this rate. But if every Body could bear the Phyſick, yet what - Opera- Ch. 1 1. Conſtant Readineſs for Teath. 259 Operation, what good Effect is to be expected from it 2 where would all this End at laſt, and what a mi- ſerable Account ſhould we find when we come to the upſhot, and feel how dear this Courſe hath coſt us? For do but imagine the Condition of a Man ſurprized by Death ; the Tears, the Agonies, the Groans and Lamentations, the Rage, the Deſpair, in a word, the inexpreſſible Confuſion of being ſei- zed all on the ſudden, by a Mercileſs, Invincible, and Unſeen Enemy. Theſe are ſuch dreadful Cir- cumſtances, that Wiſdom ſure gives much ſafer and better Advice, in directing Men to ſtand their Ground; to face their Enemy ; to obſerve his Ap- proaches; and provide for the Combat. Nay rather indeed, to encounter him perpetually, by following a Method the direct contrary to That of the Wul- § which is, by fixing their Eyes and Thoughts eadily upon Death; to converſe, and grow inti- mately acquainted with it; to render it gentle and tame by Familiarity and long Uſe. To carry the Idea and the ſtrongeſt Repreſentations of it that we can poſſibly form , conſtantly about with us. To harden our ſelves in the Expectation of it; and that, not only in Times of Sickneſs, and Danger, where we have reaſon to ſuſpect our Selves; but in our moſt confirmed Health; in the midſt of what we call Safety. Death ſhould not be the Companion of our black, and ſullen, and melancholy Hours only; but of our greateſt Gaieties, beſt Humour, and moſt ſolemn Entertainments and Delights. The Sawce to every Diſh ; the Burden to every Song ſhould be this Reflection; That we are always in danger, ſet as fair Marks, and that Death is aiming at us; That ſeveral others have been ſnatched away, who thought themſelves as far out of the reach of his Dart, as we can ſuppoſe our ſelves to be now in the heighth of all our jollity; That an Accident, which happen'd at One Time, or to One Perſon, may as well hap- S 2 pen 26o Of Wiſdom. Book If. pen to Another: And thus we are adviſed by the Wiſeſt Men, to check our Pleaſures, and abate our blind Security, by imitating, as well as ſupplying by Theſe never unſeaſonable Meditations, that Ancient Cuſtom of the Egyptians, who at their Feaſts ſerved up a Death's-head; and that of Chriſtians, and other Perſuaſions too, who contrive, that their Burying- places ſhall join to their Temples, or be in ſome other Parts the moſt conſpicuous and frequented of any : The Original whereof ſeems to have been, That theſe Publick Monuments might awaken Men's Minds, and preſerve the Reflections and Remem- brances of Death always freſh and vigorous. Where Death awaits us, is very uncertain; and therefore we ſhould expect to meet it every where, and every moment; and make ſuch conſtant and ſure Provi- ſion againſt its coming, that let it ſteal upon us ne- ver ſo Cunningly, never ſo Suddenly, it may find us always in readineſs. This is no ſuch mortifying Exerciſe, as ſome fondly imagine ; quite otherwiſe, it rather ſweetens Life, and recommends its Enjoy- ments, by ſetting us above the Fears, and Diſap- pointments, and amazing Terrors, which Worldly and Senſual Men feel and labour under. It abates our Loſſes, by foreſeeing and preparing for them; and it doubles our Advantages, by looking upon them, as Clear Gains, and adding a pleaſing fort of Surprize to the Fruition. Thus the Poet very juſtly hath ob- ferved to his Friend: * While’midſ; ſtrong Hopes and Fears thy Time doth waſte, Think every Riſing Sun ovill be thy lift. And ſo the grateful unexpećied Hour Of Life prolong'd, when come, will pleaſe thee more. Creech. ! * Omnem crede diem tibi diluxiffe ſipremum, Grata ſuperveniet, qua: non ſperabitur, Hora. Hr. Lib, I. Ep.3. But, Ch. , i. Comſtant Readingſ for Teath. 26 But, that we may not be thought guilty of In- juſtice, in condemning People unheard ; let us exi- Inine a little into the Grievances they complain of, and the Excuſes they make for themſelves upon this occaſion; and then it will appear, how frivolous and fooliſh all the Apologies are, by which they would palliate their Fears, and put ſome ſpecious Colour upon their Melancholy Apprehenſions. And here you may obſerve throughout, that Men are ge- nerally aſhamed to own their being afraid to dye, ſimply conſidered; and therefore they bethink them- ſelves of ſome ſad aggravating Circumſtance or other; by which they hope to juſtify their uneaſy Dread for themſelves, or their inordinate Grief for their Friends, who have been taken from them. The Firſt of theſe is Dying Young; and This they think a very lamentable Caſe; for what Re- fle&tion can be more diſturbing, than that Death ſhould ſnatch them rudely before their Time; that he ſhould crop this lovely Fruit, while green, and in the Bud; and mow down the Glory of the Field, before it was ripe for the Sickle 2 This indeed is a Complaint moſt uſual, and moſt becoming Mean and Vulgar Souls, who meaſure every thing by the Length; and count nothing valuable, but that which laſts a great while : Whereas on the Contrary, we find, that Things rare, and excellent, and exquiſite in their kind, are generally the moſt fine, and ſubtle, and ſubječt to Diſſolution and Decay. ‘Tis eſteem- ed a Maſter-piece in Art, to contračt a great dealin- to a narrow room ; and God and Nature have ſo far taken the ſame Method in their choiceſt Pieces, that a Man would almoſt think it a Fate upon Ex- straordinary Perſons to be ſhort-liv'd. = Eminent Vir- stue, Great Parts and Attainments, and Old Age ve- try ſeldom meet together. = But the ſolid Comfort is, * that the true Eſtimate of Life is to be taken from its s Uſe and End; and if it be well employed and well S 3 finiſh- I C. I, 262 Of Wiſdom. Book II. : finiſhed, all the reſt hath its due proportion. Years are good for nothing but to make a larger Sum; nor does the Number of them contribute one whit to the rendring Life more or leſs Happy, more or leſs Deſirable. But the ſhorteſt Term is capable of Vir- tue and Felicity, and hath its proper Perfeótions, which are no more increaſed by Quantity, than the Largeneſs of the Circumference makes the Perfecti- on of a Circle: The Leaſt Round is as truly ſo as the Greateſt; and as the Figure in Lines, ſo the Quality and Manner in Life, does all. A Man of finall Limbs and Low Stature, is as truly a Man, as the Talleſt Giant that ever Story deſcribed; and to be ſhort, neither Men nor their Lives are to be Eſti- mated by their Bulk and Length; but by having All their Parts entire, and every Qualification requiſite or poſſible to the Condition of their Nature. Another could be well enough content to Die, but to do this in a remote Country, at a diſtance from all his Relations ; to be cut off with a Violent Death, and have his Carkaſs lie Unburied, and ſtink above ground; This is what he cannot bear; and ſure every body muſt allow ſuch a Death to have a world of Horror in it, in compariſon of that gen- tle and eaſy Paſſage which Thoſe have, who dye in Peace and Quietneſs; by the ſlow and gradual De- cays of Age, or ſuch as we call dying a Natural Death at leaſt, decently and in their Beds; with their Relations and Friends about them; taking and giving the Laſt ſolemn Ceremonies of Parting; Comforting Thoſe they leave behind, and receiving - Support, and Aſſiſtance, and Conſolation from them. Now how Reaſonable or Natural ſoever theſe Noti- ons may ſeem, 'tis evident all Mankind are not of the ſame Opinion. How many Brave Men do we fee every day, who follow the Wars, and con- tend for the Poſt of Honour in the Engagement, without any of theſe tender Thoughts? They put them- | Ch. 1 1. Conſtant Readineſ for Teath. 163 - s -- >.r + : º: + º, º themſelves in the way of Dying, when Life and Vigour are at their higheſt pitch; they go into a Foreign Land for Graves, and think the Heaps of Slain, and the Throng of Fallen Enemies the no- bleſt Monument; ſo far are They from grieving that They cannot Lie among their Family and their Friends. And as for the Terrors of a Violent Death, they are exceeding Childiſh and Wain; and would eaſily be cured, could we prevail with our Selves to ſee Things as they are. For, as little Chil- dren Cry and Tremble at Men in Wizors, but are preſently quiet and lay aſide their Fears, aſſoon as you uncover their Faces; ſo it is here. Remember then, Man, That Fire, and Sword, and all other Inſtruments of Violence, and Caſualties, and ſur- prizing Aggravations of this kind are only the hide- ous Diſguiſe of Death ; a Wizor put on to affright us; but all this Effect is owing to the diſmal Idea's we form to our Selves; for take but off this Mask, and you will find that Death is always one and the ſame. And he, who Dyes in Battel, or is Burnt in his Bed; he that falls in an inſtant by the hand of an Executioner, and he that Expires upon a Rack, meet all in the ſelf-ſame State, though they do not come to it the ſame way, and dye the very Death that Women and Children, and all that ſeem to us to Depart in the Eaſieſt, Gentleſt, and moſt Peaceable manner, Dye. The Difference lies only in the Pomp, and Noiſe, the Preparation and Pre- facing of Death; but let the Ceremonies be what they will, in the Subſtance and Thing it ſelf, there neither is, nor can be any Difference at all. Another ſore Grievance is their Concern to leave the World. But what occaſion of Grief is there in This 2 Alas! here is nothing new; all your Curioſity hath been ſatisfied over and over; and You have ſeen all that is to be ſeen already. Each Day is equal and exactly alike to every other Day. Four and twenty S 4 Hours 3 264 Of Wiſdom. Book II. ; - Hours brings the World round, the ſame Succeſſion of Light and Darkneſs: There is no freſh Sun to be Lighted up, nor any other Courſe or Revolution, than what Nature hath Travelled in from the very Beginning. But put the longeſt Period the thing can bear, and One Year is ſure to preſent you with all the Wiciſſitudes: In the Change of theſe Seaſons you ſee the ſeveral Stages of the World and your own Life; The Sprightlineſs of Infancy, and a new Born Univerſe in the Spring; The Gay and Chearful Youth of Summer; The Maturity and Man- hood of Autumn ; and the Decrepit Age, the Decays and Deformity of a dying World in Winter. All the Trick is to play this Farce over again, and begin where this time Twelvemonth we left off. So that they who Live longer, do not ſee any more Objects than Others; but only more of the ſame Objects oftener repeated to them. - But Friends and Relations are very dear to us, and it is a hard thing to part with Theſe. Never fear, Man, thou wilt find a great many of thy Family and Acquaintance in the Place whither thou art going. Thou art rather parted from thy Friends, here at preſent; for the Number of Thoſe thou leaveſt behind, is not comparable to Thoſe thou wilt meet in another World. Thy Acquaintance will be infinitely increaſed, and abundance of thy Kindred are there, whom yet thou haſt never ſeen, All, who were too Little, or too Great; too Re- mote, or too much before thy Time, to be known and taken notice of here. And as for Thoſe, whoſe Correſpondence is ſweet and valuable now, remem- ber that the Separation is like to be very ſhort; for They too are Travelling the ſame Road, and follow Thee apace to thy Journies End. - Oh! but a Man hath a Family of Dear Pretty Children, and what will become of Theſe poor Or- phans ? What a World of Difficulties muſt º, this - WCCſ. Ch.1.1. Conſtant Readineſ; for Teath. 265 ſweet Innocence ſtruggle with ? How will They be Expoſed for want of a Parent's Care 2 What a Prey will They be made, if They have Fortunes 2 And if They have none, How will They be Supported, or where will They find the Kindneſs of Inſpection and Good Advice : For They who are Deſtitute of a Competence, and ſtand moſt in need of Friends, are leaſt likely to have Their Aſſiſtance. This is ſurely, a very cutting Conſideration, a natural Anxiety, and a neceſſary Conſequence of thoſe Tender Regards thought due to a Man's Poſterity. But, hark you my Friend; conſider again, whoſe Children Theſe are ; Are They not God's as well as Yours? Nay, Are They not His a great deal more than Yours? He hath an Original Right in them; He is Their True, Their Firſt Father; You are only ſo in a ſubordinate Senſe; as One who by his Per- miſſion were an Inſtrumental Cauſe of Their Being. He is able to Provide for his own Family; never fear it; All Your Care without His Bleſſing is Wain and of no Significance while you Live; but though His Aſſiſtance be neceſſary to You; Yours is not in any degree ſo to Him. He will feel no Difficulty at all in Suſtaining Theſe Orphans, when You are ta- ken from Them. Every Condition, and all Times are equal to Omnipotence. And if You cannot queſtion His Power, Have You any pretence to doubt His Diſpoſition ? You have daily Experience of This; They Subſiſt by His Bounty, even now ; His Bowels are not leſs Tender than Yours; and as He is more truly and properly, ſo is he a more, Infi- nitely more Affectionate Father to Them, than Your ſelf are ; It is moſt abſurd to think, that You can either Do, or Wiſh better for Them, than He. Nay, if upon any otherConſideration ſuch an Imagi- nation could be endured, yet even common Experi- ence contradićts it. Do but obſerve the Circumſtan- ces of ſuch as ſeem to be left entirely upon Provi- *... " dence; 166 Of Wiſdom. Book II. dence; deſtitute of all Human Advantages; and you ſhall find more thriving Men in the World, more that have been raiſed to great Honours, and eminent Poſts, and plentiful Fortunes, who have had nothing but His Favour, and their Own Induſtry to depend upon, than Others, who begun upon good Funds, and thought They might ſeaſonably pro- miſe Themſelves much greater Succeſs. So particu- larly, ſo viſibly, is He the Father of the Fatherleſs. But it may be you are afraid to venture into this dark Place all alone. Never trouble your ſelf; you need not fear a Solitary Journey. That Road is always very full of Company. There are abundance of Men, that Dye when you do; nay more than you can imagine, ſet out the very ſame Hour with You. To be ſhort, You are going to a place, where you ſhall be ſure never to grudge at the Loſs of this Life. For what room, what pretence can there be for any ſuch Diſcontent? If a Man, who hath felt all the Troubles of Life, had it in his Choice, whe- ther he would live the ſame over again ; without all Controverſy he would refuſe it. And, if before one is firſt called into Being he could See and Know what he is going about, he would rather chuſe to ſleep ſtill in Non-entity. " Were People throughly ac- quainted with the Conditions, and Incumbrances of Living, no body (ſays a Wiſe-man) would accept Life upon thoſe Terms. What ground of Diſſatisfaction then can occur to Them who have felt and ſuffered un- der. Theſe ? What Temptation can They have to wiſh a Second Torment, or to repine, that Their Firſt was not of a longer Continuance 2 The Old Philoſophers fixed upon this Argument for Comfort, and thought it an irrefragable one. Either we are Nothing at all after Death, or we are in a much better State than at Preſent ; and Either way we "Vitam nemo acciperet, ſi daretur Scientibus. have Ch. 1 1. Conſtant Readineſ for Death. 167 have Reaſon to be well Content to Dye, becauſe Either way Death puts an End to allour Suffering and Pain. “ There is, I confeſs a great Alteration in ** the Caſe, when we come to conſider the matter as ** Chriſtians; becauſe thus we are aſſured that there ** is a State, infinitely Worſe than the moſt exqui- ** ſite, and moſt durable Miſeries of this Life. But “ then This is what we have fair warning of, and ** may avoid if we pleaſe. A Chriſtian who Lives “ as he ought, is better fortified with Arguments ** againſt the Fear of Death, than any Other Perſon * can be. And They who will not Live ſo, have no “ reaſon to repine; for even thus, the ſhorter the “Life, the leſs Meaſure of Their Iniquities; and “ the Damn’d Themſelves would not wiſh to Live “ again, but upon a ſuppoſition, that they ſhould “Live better than before. But be that State to “ which Death turns ſuch Men over never ſo dread- “ful, yet ſince this is a Miſery of their own making, “it comes not within the compaſs of our preſent “Argument, which only undertakes to ſhew, That “Death hath nothing formidable, ſo far as Nature “ and Providence are concerned in it. And That comes to thus much, and no more. You came out of Death, that is, out of a State of Inſenſibility, into Life, a Scene of Buſineſs and Aćtion; and this you did without any Horror, or Paſſion, or the leaſt Diſorder; You are now going back again into the Former Condition of Sleep and Ina&tivity. Travel then the way you came, with the ſame un- concernedneſs you did before. For after all, "What mighty Calamity can it be to return from whence you came, and where you lay hid for many Ages? It may be the Gaſtlineſs of Death affrights you, becauſe Dying Perſons make but a very ill Figure. * Reverti unde veneris quid grave eſt? 'Tis 268 of Wiſdom. Book II. 'Tis true, You ſee their Countenance diſcompoſed, their Features diſtorted with Convulſions, and all . their Body ſtruggling and labouring under Agonies and Pains. But all This is only that ugly Vizor, which (as I ſaid before) Death puts on to ſcare us; it is not Death it ſelf in its own Natural Viſage; for That hath nothing of Horror or Deformity, but is all Quietneſs and Compoſure. We ſend our Senſes and Paſſions out to diſcover this unknown Land; and They, like cowardly Spies, bring us an ill Report of the Countrey. They never penetrated far enough to get true Intelligence; they ſpeak nothing of their own Knowledge, but make a Report only from the common Rumour of Ignorant People, and their own Fears. But it ſnatches ſo many things away from Us, or rather it takes us away from Them; nay, takes us away from our Selves, removes us from all that we have been ſo long acquainted with, and accuſtomed to, and puts us in a State of Darkneſs and Horror; ſuch as we have no knowledge of; and from this Condition of Light, ſhuts us up in Eternal Night: In a word, It is our End, the Ruin, the Diſſoluti- on of our Perſons. Theſe are the cutting Conſide- rations, which Men aggravate to Themſelves, and magnify the terrible Ideas. To all which we may return a ſufficient Anſwer in one word; by ſaying, That Death being the neceſſary Law and Conditi- on of Human Nature, from which there is no poſſ- bility of an Eſcape (as will be ſhewn hereafter) it is to no purpoſe to diſpute, or create theſe Uneaſi- neſſes to our own Minds; and wretchedly fooliſh, to torment our ſelves with Fears of a Thing,which there is no getting quit of. Things that are doubtful and contingent may be a proper Objećt of Fear; but for thoſe that are fixed and irreverſible, we have nothing to do but to fit down, and expect, and prepare to meet them. But waving That, I rather chuſe to ob- * . ſerve Ch. 11. Conſtant Teadineſ for Death. 269 ſerve at preſent, how extremely miſtaken theſe Men are in their Account; For the Matter is in very Truth, the direct Reverſe of all the terrible Repre- ſentations theſe Perſons form to themſelves. For Death, inſtead of taking away from us all that is va- luable and dear, puts into our Poſſeſſion all we are capable of receiving; Inſtead of taking us from our Selves, it enlarges us from our Confinement, and reſtores our Souls to perfect Liberty, and true En- joyment: Inſtead of locking us up in the dark, it ſets us in the cleareſt and brighteſt Light; and ſerves us as we uſe to deal by the beſt Fruits, when we take off the Skin, or Shell, or other Covering, that ſowe may ſee, and uſe them, and taſte their Natu- ral Excellence. It removes us out of a ſtreight, in- convenient Dwelling, from a Dark, and Rheuma- tick, and Diſeaſed Place , where we can ſee but a very little Spot of Heaven, and only receive Light º by Reflection, and at a vaſt diſtance, through Two little Holes of our Eyes; into a Region of abſolute Liberty, confirmed and uninterrupted Health ; per- petual and inceſſant Light, a Sun that never ſets, and Endleſs Day without any gloomy Intervals: "A Place where our Faculties ſhall be enlarged, and all Heaven will diſplay it ſelf to us; where we ſhall not only ſee Light, but dwell with it in its own proper Sphere. In a word, It delivers us from the very Thing we dread moſt, by making us Im- mortal, and putting a final and full Concluſion to that Death, which took place from the Inſtant we came into the World, and was finiſhed at our Paſ- ſage into Eternity. f For the Day we have ſuch "AEqualiter tibi ſplendebit omne Coeli latus. Totam lucem oloco prope totus aſpicies: quam nunc per anguſtiflimas ocu- Korum Vias procul intueris & miraris. t Dies iſle, quem tanquam extremum reformidas, atternina- ta'is eſt, dreadful / 27,o Of Wiſdom. Book II. I2. dreadful Apprehenſions of, as if it were to be our Laſt, is really our Firſt, the joyful Birthday into a Life, which can never have an End. We come now to conſider the Second Sort of Re- ſentment, which Men are affected with, upon the account of Death; which is, Waiting for, and en- tertaining it with contented and chearful Minds, when it comes. This is indeed the Quality of a Good, a Gentle, and well-governed Spirit; and the Practice of it is peculiar to a plain, eaſy way of li- ving; and to Perſons, who, as they make the beſt of Life, and enjoy the Quiet of it, ſo know very well how to eſteem it as it deſerves; but ſtill they make Reaſon the Standard of all their Affections and Aéti- ons; and, as they are well ſatisfied to ſtay here, ſo they readily obey, when Providence thinks fit to call them out of the World. This is a Medium very juſt- ly tempered, a Maſterly Greatneſs of Soul; and ſuch an Indifference to all here below, as a Life of Re- tirement and Peace ſeems beſt qualified for; and the Two Extremes between which it lies, are Deſiring and Dreading; Courting and Running away from Death; according to that of the Poet : " With Courage firm, and Soul ſedate, Attend the Motions of thy Fate; And whether Death be far or near, Live free from eager Wiſh, and anxious Fear. Now theſe Extremes, except there be ſome very particular and uncommon Reaſon to give them coun- tenance, are both of them Vicious and exceeding blameable; and when I come hereafter to ſpeak of this Matter in its proper place, you will ſee, that no- thing leſs than a very extraordinary Cauſe can render Summum nec metuas diem, nec optes. them Ch.1.1. Conſtant Reddineſs for Teath. 171 them ſo much as excuſable. To deſire and purſue Death is very criminal: for it is very uniuſt to throw y J away one's Life without a ſufficient Reaſon; it is ſpightful to the World, and injurious to our Friends, to grudge them the longer Uſe and Continuance of a thing, which may be ſerviceable to them : It is the blackeſt Ingratitude to God and Nature, thus to flight, and throw back again, the beſt and moſt va- luable Preſent they can makeus; as if it were a Trifle, or a Burden, not worth our keeping: It ſavours too much of Peeviſhneſs, and Pride; and ſhews us hu- mourſome and difficult, when we cannot be eaſy, and bear the Lot that falls to our ſhare; but will needs quit our hands of the Station God hath called usto, when there is nothing extraordinary to render it cumberſome. And on the other hand, to fear and flee Death, when ſummoned to it, is an Offence * Nature, Juſtice, Reaſon, and every Branch of our Duty; ſince Dying is Natural, Neceſſary, and Unavoidable; Reaſonable and Juſt. Firſt, It is Natural; it is a part of that Great Scheme, by which the Order of the Univerſe is eſta- bliſhed and maintained, and the whole World lives and ſubſiſts. And who are We, that all this Regu- larity ſhould be broken, and a new Syſtem contrived in Our Favour? Death is really one of the Princi- pal and moſt Material Articles in the Conſtitution, and Adminiſtration of this vaſt Republick; and of infinite Uſe and Advantage it is, for determining the Continuance , and promoting a Conſtant Suc- ceſſion of the Works of Nature. The Failure of Life in One Inſtance propagates it afreſh in a Thou- ſand others. "Thus Life and Death ſucceſſive keep their round, Thing, dye to live, and by decays abound. "Sic Rerum Summa novatur. But I 3 - Dying if Natural. 272 Of Wiſdom. Book II. But, which comes nearer home, Death is not only a part of this Great Complex and Univerſal Nature; but of thy Own Nature in particular; and That every whit as eſſential a part, as that Birth which gave Thee Life. So that in cheriſhing an Averſion, and running away from This, thou attempteſt to flee from thy own ſelf. Thy Being is divided equally between Death and Life; Theſe are the Two Pro- prietors, and each claims a ſhare, and hath an inde- feaſible Right in every one of us. Theſe are the Terms, upon which Thou wer’t created, and Life was given with a Purpoſe, and upon Condition of being taken away; rather indeed it was only lent, and, like all other Truſts or Debts, muſt be demand- ed back, and may be called in at pleaſure. If then the Thoughts of Dying diſcontent Thee, conſider, that the Hardſhip does not lye here; but carry thy Reflections higher, and be concerned that ever thou waſt born. For, either there is no cauſe of Repining in either caſe , or elſe the Ground of all the Com- laint lies in having lived at all. You had Neigh- ours Fare, and purchaſed Life at the Market Price; which is, The laying it down again; no body hath it cheaper; and therefore they who do not like the Bargain, and are loth to go out again, ſhould have refuſed at firſt, and never come into the World at all. But this is what Men, were they capable of ſuch a Choice, would never do, if their Fondneſs of Life be ſo excelſively great. The Firſt Breath you drew bound you faſt; and all the Advances you made to- ward a more perfect Life, were ſo many Steps to- ward Death at the ſame time. f Affoon as born we dye; and our Live's End Upon its fift Beginning does depend. Manil. Aft, 4. i Naſcentes morimur, finiſque ab origine pendet. To Ch. 1 1. Conſtant Readineſ for Death. 173 To be concerned then, that we muſt Dye ; is to be concerned that we are Men, for every one that is ſo, is Mortal. And upon the ſtrength of this Impreſ. ſion it was, that a Wiſe Man, when the News of his Son's Death was brought him, received it with all the Sedateneſs and ſeeming Unconcernedneſs that could be, and only made this calm Reply ; I knew very well that my Child was Mortal. Since then Death is a thing ſo Natural, ſo Eſſential to all Nature in general, and contributes ſo much to the Order and Well-being of the Whole World; and ſince it is likewiſe ſo to your own Being, and the Condition of That in particular, why ſhould you conceive ſuch horrible Ideas, why hold it in ſuch irreconcilable De- teſtation : In This you act in contradiction to Na- ture. I allow indeed, that the Fear of Pain is very Natural, but I cannot admit the ſame Plea for the Fear of Death. For how is it poſſible, that Nature ſhould ever have infuſed into us a Principle of Ha- tred, and Dread, againſt an Ordinance of her own Inſtitution, and ſuch as ſhe receives ſuch a mighty Benefit from the due Execution of 2 And, as an in- conteſtable Evidence, that ſhe does not ſo, it appears plainly, that, where Nature works entire, without any Depravation or Reſtraint, there little or no Marks of this Paſſion are to be found. Little Children, for inſtance, and Brutes, who are not capable of being corrupted with Prejudice, are ſo far #. . any Fear of Death, that they meet it chearfully, an ſeem pleaſed to undergo it. The Gay and Smiling Countenances of theſe Creatures are enough to aſ- ſure us, that Nature does not teach us to fear Death, but we learn That from ſome other hand. But all the Direction we have from Nature upon this occa- fion, is, to expect and wait for Death; and when- ever it comes, to receive it with Submiſſion and Chearfulneſs, as conſidering, that it is of Nature's ſending, and expreſs appointment. Second- ſ 274 Of Wiſdom. Book II. I4. Netºfftry. Secondly. It is neceſſary; a Sentence paſt for it, and irreverſible ; and Thou who diſtraćteſt thy Soul with Fears, and bewaileſt this Fate of thine, art ſa– tisfied at the ſame time, that there is no poſſibility of avoiding it. And what more exquiſite Folly can a Man be guilty of, than the tormenting himſelf in- duſtriouſly, when he knows 'tis to no purpoſe 2 Where do you find any Man ſo ſtupidly filly, to ſpend his Time and his Breath in Intreaties, and importunate Addreſſes, to One whom he knows in- capable of granting, or inflexible and never to be prevailed upon for his Requeſts 2 Or to knocketer- nally at a Door, that will not, cannot be opened 2 And What more inexorable , more deaf to all our Supplications, than Death 2 If any Calamities be proper Objećts of Fear, they are ſuch as are barely Contingencies; which may indeed, but may not happen too. And Thoſe that are capable of Re- medy or Prevention , are fit to have our Thoughts and Care employed upon them. But Thoſe that are fix’d, and muſt come, ( which is the Caſe of Death) we have nothing to do but to expect, and to provide for; and all that is to be done with that which can- not be cured, is to fortify our Souls, and reſolve to endure it. The Ignorant and Inconſiderate fear and flee from Death; The Raſh and Fool-hardy courts and purſues it; The Wiſe Man waits its Approach, and is ready to follow and obey the Summons; but neither runs away from it, nor advances to meet it. But certainly our Lamentations are very Idle and Extravagant, where they are ſure to do no Good ; and ſo are our Anxieties and Fears, where there are no means of Eſcape. "You muſt bear, and not complain, when the thing is unavoidable. The Be- • Sam, xii, haviour of David was really very prudent; and an * Peras, non culpes, quod vitari non poteſt. i. - admi- Ch.1.1. Conſtant Readineſ for Death. 275 admirable Pattern he hath ſet us in it: When his Servants informed him , that the Child, whoſe Sickneſs he had expreſs'd a moſt paſſionate Con- cern for, was dead; the next thing he did, was to waſh, and dreſs himſelf, and return to his ordinary way of Eating, and uſual demonſtrations of Chear- fulneſs. This indeed was ſomewhat out of the common Road; and thoſe about him , who knew no better, were much aſtoniſhed at his proceed- ing; but the Account he gave of himſelf was ſo- lid and ſubſtantial; That, while the darling Infant was yet alive, and conſequently it was yet uncer- tain, how God would pleaſe to diſpoſe of him ; he faſted, and wept, becauſe he did not know, whether his Prayers might be heard, and God would be gra- cious in letting the Child live: But as ſoon as he underſtood it was dead, he changed his Courſe ; becauſe all Hopes of that kind were then paſt: Life could not be recall’d, nor his Tears and melancholy Humiliations be of any farther uſe in this Caſe. I know well enough, that fooliſh People have a Re- ply ready for all this. They will tell you, that when a Thing is beyond all Remedy, it is then the fitteſt Object of our Grief; and, that our Concern is at no time ſo ſeaſonable, as when we cannot be better than we now are. But This is the very Ex- tremity of Senſleſsneſs; this compleats, nay doubles the Folly. It is moſt truly ſaid, “ That the greateſ: Madneſs a Man can poſſibly be guilty of , is to fruggle and fret himſelf, when be ſees and knows all he does 4 in vain. Since then the Matter now before us is ſo abſolutely neceſſary, ſo unalterably fix’d, ſo per- feſtly unavoidable, it is not only to no manner of purpoſe to torment our ſelves with the fear of it; but, if we would take right Meaſures, and make 'Scienter fruſtra niti extrema: dementiae eſt. T 2 any 276 Of Wiſdom. Book II. any Profit of this Conſideration, our Method muſt be, to make a Virtue of Neceſſity; and if this grim Gueſt will come, to put on all our good Humour, and prevail with our ſelves to receive him decently, and bid him welcome. For the beſt thing we can do is to be beforehand with him. It would bet- ter become Us to make ſome Advances, and meet Death, than ſuffer It to overtake Us ; and to lay hold on That, than to be ſurprized and apprehended by It. I 5. *idly. It is highly agreeable to Reaſon and Ju- juſt and ſtice, that Men ſhould dye. For what more rea- Reaſºnable ſonable , than that every thing ſhould come to the place of its Final Reſt, and be ſafely depoſited, where no new Change, no freſh Removal awaits it? If Men are afraid of arriving at this Long Home, they ſhould not move towards it, but ſtand ſtill, or go back again, or get out of the Road: But none of theſe are in their Power to do. What more reaſonable again, than that you ſhould go off this Stage of the World, and make room for new Aétors, and a new Scene, as your Predeceſ. fors made room for You ? If you have plaid your Part well, you go off with Applauſe, and That ought to content you ; If you have enjoyed your Self and the World, you have had a good Enter- tainment, enough to Satisfy and Feaſt your Appe- tite; and therefore you ought to riſe from Table in Good Humour. If you had not the Wit to make the beſt of Life, and all its Advantages ſlipt through your Fingers; what Loſs do you ſuſtain in parting with it 2 What would you do with it any longer ? If you could be truſted on, ſtill the Talent would lye unimproved. Obſerve to this purpoſe the Reaſoning of the Poet. — If Ch. 11. Conſtant Readineſs for Death. 277 º * If Nature ſhould begin to ſpeak, And thus with loud Complaints our Folly check; Fond Mortal, what’s the matter thou doff ſgh 2 Why all theſe Fears, becauſe thou once muſt dye, : And once ſubmit to ſtrong Mortality? For if the Race thou haſ already run Aas pleaſant ; if with joy thou ſaw'ſ the Sun; If all thy Pleaſures did not paſs thy Mind, As through a Sieve, but left ſome Sweets behind; Why doff thou not them like a Thankful Gueſt, -) Riſe chearfully from Life's abundant Feaff, And with a Quiet Mind go take thy Rſ. 2 But if all thoſe Delights are loft and gone, Spilt idly all, and Life a Burthen grown; Them why, fond Mortal, doſ; thou ask for more, Why ſtill deſire t’ increaſe thy wretched Store, And wiſh for what muſt waſte, like thoſe befºre? Nor rather free thy ſelf from Pains and Fear, And end thy Life, and neceſſary Care & Creech, Lucret. * Denique ſi vocem Rerum Natura repente Mittat, & hoc aliquoi noſtröm ſic increpetipſ. ; Quid tibi tantopere eſt, Mortalis, quod nimis a gris Lućtibus indulges 2 quid mortem congemis, ac fles 2 Nam ſigrata fuit tibi Vita anteačta, priorque, Et non omnia pertuſum congeſta quaſi in vas Commoda perfluxere, atque ingrata interiere, Curnon, ut plenus Vitae conviva, recedis, AEquo animoque capis ſecuram, Stulte, quietem? Sinea, qua frućtus cunquees, perière profuſa, Vitaque in offenſu'eſt; cur amplius addere quaeris, Rurſum quod pereat male, & ingratum accidat omne ; Nec potius Vitae finem facis, atque laboris? Lucrètius, Lib. III. T 3 But 278 Of Wiſdom. Book II. But, beſides that we are accountable for the Uſe of Life while we have it, and our Profuſeneſs does but inflame the Reckoning, the longer time we have allowed us to Miſpend it in ; we muſt re- member, that, according to what was urged a little before; Life it ſelf is a debt; This is as the Princi- pal Sum put into our Hands to Traffick with, but ſuch as we ſhould always be ready to pay down upon the Nail, whenever it ſhall be called in *. and He who is the Owner and Giver may Demand it the very next Hour. How then can you Argue againſt the Condition of Your own Obligation 3 How can You falſify Your Truſt, and Act againſt Your Engagement, and Your Duty 2 It is moſt un- reaſonable to Shuffle and Flinch, and Kick againſt theſe Pricks; becauſe by Death you eaſe your ſelf of a mighty Charge and Trouble ; You make up your great Account, and pay in that vaſt Sum, for which you ſtood reſponſible, and which, while in your Cuſtody, was liable to great Loſs and Hazard. Dying is a general thing; Every Body does it, And can You take it Ill not to be Ex- empted: Do You exped to be the Single Inſtance, the Sole Reſerve from Univerſal Nature; to Enjoy a Privilege by your ſelf; a Privilege never yet ſeen nor heard of in the World? What unparallel'd Folly and Preſumptuous Madneſs is This *. Or why ſhould You be afraid to go where all the World goes, where you will find innumerable Millions of Men, who have taken up their Reſidence before you come, and whither you will be followed by as great a Number afterwards? How fingular an Af. fectation is this 2 Death is equally certain to All ; and therefore it cannot be Unreaſonable, nor Un- juſt, with reſpect to You; for Equality is the firſt conſtituent part of Equity; and no Man will be forgotten or overlook'd in this Diſtribution. a * In Ch. , 1. Conſtant Readineſ for Teath. 179 " In the ſame Road All travel oa, By All alike the ſame dark journey muſt be gº Our Blended Lots together lye, Mingled in one common Urm; Sooner, or Later, out they fly, &c. IIId. Miſcell. The Third Reſentment I mentioned upon this oc- 16. caſion is the Contempt of Death, and This is a %" ºf Mark of a Brave and Generous Mind; This fre- gº; quently proceeds from exalted Judgment, and ºn. ſtrength of Reaſon, and is more peculiarly the Vir- Good A:. tue of a Publick Charaćter, Elevated Fortune, and *. a Life full of Difficult and Weighty Affairs. For to Perſons in ſuch Circumſtances, many Accidents may happen, for which no Man ought to ſcruple Dying; and ſeveral Proſpects preſent themſelves, of Things ſo valuable, that they deſerve to be preferred even before Life it ſelf. , Lét Other matters ſucceed how they will, This at leaſt is a conſtant Rule; That a Man ought always to be fonder, and have a greater. Regard for Himſelf, than for a Life led in hurry and publick Buſineſs; which ſhews him, as it were, al- ways in a full Theatre , and expoſes him to the View and Cenſure of all the World. He muſt conſi- ſider himſelf, not only as a Spectacle, but as a Pat- tern to Mankind; and remember, That One of the Incumbrances of Honour and Dignity, is a neceſſa- ry Obligation to ſhine brighter than Common Men; to render his Wirtue more conſpicuous to thoſe be- low him; and to do Things exemplarily Good and Great, though it happen to be at the Expence of * Omnes eodem cogimur, Omnium Verſatur Urn: ; Serius, ocyus Sors exituru, &c. - Horat, Od. 3. Lib. 11. T 4 All of Wiſdom. Book II. All that the World calls Dear. To ſuch Perſons many times the ſame Methods of ſafety are denied, which private Men might make uſe of, without any re- fleótion upon their Prudence, or their Duty. They muſt by no means ſuffer any diminution of their Honour; but when driven to a pinch, muſt Riſque and Sacrifice their Lives, and truſt the Event to Fate. The Great Man, who cannot command himſelf ſo far as to Deſpiſe Death, is not only made thereby incapable of doing any Gallant and eminently Good Aćtion, but he lays himſelf open to more than ordi- nary Dangers, by this Timorous Spirit and Behavi- our; and Thoſe too, ſuch Dangers, as threaten moſt, what requires his beſt care to preſerve. For while his great Concern is to preſerve his Perſon, and ſee that Life be under Covert; his Duty, his Honour, Virtue and Probity lie naked and expoſed; and run a mighty hazard for want of Courage to Protećt and Stand by them. The Contempt of Death is in effect the very Principle, to which the Boldeſt and moſt Renowned Exploits are owing ; the moſt daring Attempts, whether in Good or Ill Deſigns. He that hath Conquered the Fear of Death, hath nothing more left to terrify him ; He hath it in his Power to do what he pleaſes; and may at any time make himſelf Maſter of Another Man's Life, becauſe he is already Maſter of his Own. And, as this Contempt is the true Source of Generoſity and undaunted Firmneſs in Aćtion ; ſo is it likewiſe the very Spirit and Life, that quickens and ſupports that Reſolution from whence they proceed. Hence Calmneſs, and Conſtancy, and Perſeverance, All the Free and Bold Determinations, by which Virtue hath expreſſed her ſelf; the Noble and Admired Sentences uttered by Celebrated Perſons, when re- duced to extremity of Danger and Diſtreſs: Such as ſhine in Story, give latting Characters to their Authors, and tranſport the Reader with wº . aſl Ch. , 1. Conſtant Rºllineſ fºr Death. 28 m and Delight; a very few of which, becauſe they now occur to my Mind, I take the Liberty to inſert here. - Helvidius Priſcus, having received a Meſſage from the Emperor Veſpaſian not to appear in the Senate; or, if he came, ſtrictly prohibiting him to interpoſe his Opinion in a Debate, which was to be moved there; ſent back word, That his Character of a Se- nator required his Attendance, and he ſhould not re- fuſe his Summons; neither ſhould he, when There, balk any thing that became him; but, if called upon to give his Judgment, would diſcharge his Conſcience, and deliver his Senſe of the Caſe freely, and with- out Fear or Reſerve. The Emperor provoked with what he thought Inſolence in this Reply, ſent a Se- cond Meſſage, threatning to put him to Death, if he opened his Mouth; To which he returned thus; Sir, ſaid he, Did I ever tell the Emperor that I was Im- mortal? His Majeſty, Iſuppoſe, will do his Pleaſure, and I will take care to do my Duty; It is in His Power to put me to Death Unjuſtly, but it is in my Own to Dye Pirtuouſly and Gallantly. The Lacedemonians, when Philip of Macedon, Father of Alexander the Great, had entred their Country with his Army, received a terrible Meſſage from him, Threatning what Severity he would uſe them with, if they did not court his Friendſhip, and ſend to make Terms with him. ... To which one Brisk Fellow Anſwered in behalf of the whole Republick, What Hirm can thoſe Men ſuffer who are not afraid of Death? And upon another Diſpatch from Philip, telling them, That he would break all their Meaſures, and prevent the Deſigns they had formed in their own Defence; The An- ſwer was, Holy, Sir, what break all our Meaſures & No, Sure you will not pretend to hinder us from Dying & This is a Projeći which you cannot Defeat. Another, when his Opinion was asked, What courſe a Man could take to live Free and Eaſy, reſolved the Doubt thus, That 282 Of Wiſdom. Book II. That all other Methods were ineffectual, except that . One of Deſpiſing Death. We read of a Young Boy, , who was taken Captive and Sold for a Slave, and in Diſcourſe with his Patron who had Bought him, Sir, ſays he, You ſhall now ſee what a purchaſe you have; I ſhould certainly be much to blame, and guilty of great Folly, ſhould I ſubmit to Live in Slivery, when my Li- berty is in my own Diſpoſal, and I can retrieve it when I pleaſe : And with that he threw Himſelf down from the Houſe top, and was daſhed to pieces. While a Perſon was deliberating with iſ: in deep perplexity of Thought, whether he ſhould quit this Life, or not accept that Deliverance, but be con- tent to tug on ſtill under the weight of a very heavy Calamity, which then oppreſſed him; A Wiſe Man told him, That in His Judgment the Matter under Debate was very ſmall and inconſiderable. ‘For,What “is it, ſays he, to Live 2 Thy Slaves, nay thy Beaſts ‘and Cattel Live; but to Dye like a Man of Honour, ‘ and Integrity, and Wiſdom; to leave the World * with remarkable Conſtancy and Courage, This in- ‘deed is a thing of moment, and worth Studying * for. To conclude this Argument; and to crownit with the moſt complete and ſubſtantial Conſiderati- on that can poſſibly belong to it; Our moſt Holy Religion owes more of its Succeſs in the World, and more of its Effect upon Men's Hearts and Lives, to this fingle Principle of getting above the Fear of Death , than to any other Human Foundation whatſoever: No Man can be an excellently Good Chriſtian, who is not Reſolute and Brave; and up- on this Account we find, that our Great Maſter, who beſt underſtood the Temper of his own Goſpel, does inſiſt upon taking up the Croſs; Hating and Deſpiſing Life for his ſake; not Fearing Men who can only deſtroy the Body, and the like; which are but other Expreſſions for the Contempt of Death; Theſe he inſiits upon, I ſay, as frequently, as ear. - neſtly, Ch. 1 1. Conſtant Readineſ for Death. 183 neſtly, as upon any other Duty, or Article of Re- ligion whatſoever. Now we muſt underſtand, That there are many Counterfeits and Falſe Pretences to Bravery upon this Occaſion; a great many People , who look big upon the matter, and would fain perſuade the World, nay perhaps are perſuaded Themſelves, That they Deſpiſe Death, and yet are in truth afraid of it. Thus ſeveral People will tell you; They do not va- lue Life; They would be content, nay glad to leave the World; but the Ceremony and Proceſs of Dy- ing is what They cannot away with. Others again, while in perfect ſoundneſs of Health and Judgment, can think of Death without any Impreſſions of Horror ; nay have, as They imagine, ſettled their Minds ſo, as to bear the Shock of it Firm and Un- moved; and Some have gone farther yet, and re- ſolved to make it their Choice, their own Aćt and Deed. This is a Farce very often played; inſomuch that the Soft, the Luxurious Heliogabalus himſelf had a Part in it; and made Sumptuous Preparations, that his Death might be as Pompous and Expenſive, as his Life had been. But when Theſe Mighty Men of Valour have come to the Puſh, their Hearts have failed; and either Courage was wanting to give the Blow, or they have repented of ſuch Hardineſs for Raſh Heat and Folly; (as Lucius Domitius parti- cularly, who after he had Poyſoned himſelf, was ſorry for what he had done, ) and would fain have Lived, when it was too late. Others turn away their Heads , draw their Cap over their Eyes, and dare not look Death in the Face; They think of it as little as they can ; ſteal upon it , and plunge in all on the ſudden; They ſwallow it down like un- palatable Phyſick; and haſten to get to the End of that bitter Potion which goes againſt their Stomach. To this purpoſe is that ſaying of Ceſar, That the Shorteſt Death is the Beft ; and that of Pliny, That a Sudden 2.84 Of Wiſdom. Book II. Sudden and Speedy Diſpatch is the greateſ good Fortune, that can happen to Man in this State of Moriality. Now no Man can truly be ſaid to have Reſolution and Courage, ſuch as is above the Fear of Death, who is afraid of facing, and coming up to it; who dares not meet, and undergo it with his Eyes open, and his Thoughts and Senſes about him. Thus we know ſeveral have done, and therefore this is no Roman- tick Excellence, above the Power or Capacity of Human Nature. Thus did Socrates particularly, who had Thirty days time to chew the Cud, and digeſt the Sentence pronounced againſt him; and yet, af. ter all this Foreſight and Confideration, Dyed with- out the leaſt Diſorder or Paſſion, without any Change in Countenance or Temper; without any ſtruggle or ſign of Reluétancy; in the moſt Calm, Compoſed, Chearful manner, that you at any other time can ſuppoſe a Man in. Thus did Pomponius Atticus, and Tullius Marcellinus, thoſe Two Gallant Romans; and Cleanthes the Philoſopher, who Dyed all Three almoſt alike. For, reſolving to Faſt Them- ſelves to Death, that ſo they might get rid of a very painful Diſtemper, that had made Life a Bur- then; and finding their Abſtinence to prove the Beſt Phyſick, and, inſtead of Killing them, to Cure their Diſeaſe; They would not deſiſt, even upon this Recovery ; but Finiſhed their Deſign; and took great Satisfaction in Obſerving the gradual De- cays of Nature; and by what Steps and Methods Death gained ground upon them. Among Theſe Fearleſs Men we may reckon Otho and Cato too; who, after reſolving to Kill Themſelves, and all ne- ceſſary Preparations made in order to it, juſt as they were going to put their Deſign in Execution, took a ſound ſleep. Thus preſerving their Spirits from any Diſorder or Confuſion, which the Pro- ſpect of Approaching Death was no more able to caſt them into, than any trifling little Accident - in Ch. 1 1. Conſtant Readineſ, for T}eath. 185 in Human Life, would Diſcompoſe a Man of Tem- per and Judgment. The Fourth Quality is the Affection of a Great and Generous, a Firm and Reſolute Mind; which hath been often , and with general Approbation practiſed, by Perſons of unqueſtionable Magnani- mity, and eminent Piety. But then they have re- ſtrained this commendable Deſire of Death to Two particular Caſes. The Firſt of Theſe, which ſeems moſt agreeable to Nature, and upon that account may juſtify ſuch a Deſire, is a Life of extreme Calamity and Diſtreſs, of perpetual Uneaſineſs, and exquiſite Pain ; Or an Apprehenſion of ſome Death more Scandalous, more Torturing, more Inſupportable, than That which at preſent they ſhould undergo; In a word, a Condition ſo Deplorable, that there is no place left for Hope, no poſibility of Remedy or Redreſs. Then Death is deſired as a ſure Retreat, and quiet Harbour from the Waves and Storms of a trouble- ſome Life; the Beſt and moſt effectual Relief for weary and waſted Nature; the only Refuge and Support of Slaves haraſſed and ill Treated; and, as the Caſe then ſtands, the ſupreme Happineſs a Man is capable of . It is, Iown, an Argument of Weak- neſs and Littleneſs of Soul, to ſink under Misfor- tunes; but it is as ſure an Inſtance of Folly, to cheriſh and be fond of them. And, in my poor Judgment, it is high time to Dye, when (all Cir- cumſtances fairly computed,) there is a great deal more Evil than Good in Living. For, as throwing away one's Life raſhly and inconſiderately is againſt Nature, ſo likewiſe is the taking pains to Preſerve it to our own Loſs; and chufing to Live in Miſery and Torment. When therefore Providence hath reduced us to ſuch a lamentable Condition as This, God will not ſure be Angry, that we wiſh a Re- leaſe. Some Perſins have run the Point ſo high, diº I -. Deſire of Death. 286 Of Wiſdom. Book II. . * as to tell you, That Men ought to Dye to avoid the Pleaſures and Temptations, which are highly agree- able to Nature; And if ſo, how much ſtronger and more cogent are the Reaſons for avoiding Pain and Grief this way, which are of all things in the World the moſt contrary to Nature? There are, in all Appearance, ſeveral Incidents in Life, worſe and much more formidable than Death : Such as a Man had better Dye than continue under; many Circumſtances, in which, if it were left to any Wiſe Man's Choice , he would infinitely rather quit the World, than ſtay longer in it; So far is Life it ſelf from being a ſufficient Compenſation for all the Evils poſſible to be endured in it. Hence it was, that when Antipater threaten’d a great many terrible things, and ſevere Revenge upon the Lace- demonians Refuſal, if they did not ſubmit preſently, and comply with the Terms he ſent them; They replied, ‘That he did not yet drive them to abſolute “Neceſſity; for if the Sufferings he threatned were ‘ worſe than Death, they would chuſe That, as the ‘more deſirable of the Two. And it is a Saying uſual with the Philoſophers, “That a Wiſe and a Good ‘Man lives as long as it is fit he ſhould, and not as ‘long as poſſibly he can : Which is the Care of thoſe only who ſacrifice their Virtue, their Reputation, their every Thing that is moſt valuable and dear, to lengthen out their Term, and gain, though it be but a little Reſpit from Death. Again. Death is much more at Command, and in our Diſpoſal than Life is, or can be; There is but One Paſſage into the World, and our Entrance in- to it muſt be aſſified by the Will of Others; Our Ways out again are Infinite, and our Departure hence needs no Conſent, but our Own : And the more chearful and contented we are at our leaving it, the more becoming and reputable is our Exit. We may want Lands and Revenues ſufficient to main- Ch. 1 1. Conſtant Readineſ, for Death. 187 maintain us while Living, but no Man can want enough to receive him when Dead ; This is a Free- hold, which neither Poverty nor Prodigality can alienate. No Man is ſo deſpicable, but he may have the Life of any other Man at his Mercy ; no Place ſo ſecure, none ſo ſtrong, as to be inacceſſible to Death ; for as the Tragedian obſerves moſt truly; "Through all the ſpacious Tračis of Air, Seas, Land, Death, Omnipreſent Death is ſtill at hand. The numerous Ills, that wretched Mortals wait, Kind Heaven with Pity ſaw, and did create & This always near, this ever ſure Retreat. Courage and Strength, JWiſdom and Virtue, All To Vice and Cowardice a Prey may fall: The Baſe and Weak may take our Life away, The Strongeſt can't detain, or force its Stay. The Privilege of Eſcape mone can refuſe, Death bath Ten thouſand plain and eaſy Avenues. The moſt valuable Preſent, that Nature hath made ls; and That which really lenders all the Com- plaints we utter in our melancholy Moods without Excuſe, is, the Truſting us with the Outlets of Life , and leaving the Keys in our own hands. ‘Why then (Vain Man) doſt thou find fault with * the World? It detains Thee not. If thouliveſt in “ Uneaſineſs, thank thy ſelf, thy own Cowardice is * to blame for it: For he that hath but the Reſolu- ‘tion to Dye, needs no more to ſet him free, and ‘ perfect his Deliverance. The Second Caſe, wherein the Deſire of Death is moſt pračticable and moſt commendable, is purely * Ubique Mors eſt; optime hoc cavit Deus; Eripere Vitam nemo non homini poteſt, At Nemo Mortem. Mille ad hanc Aditus patent. Senec. Thebais A&#. 1. Reli- Ch. 1 1. Conſtant Readineſs for 1)eath. 189 at the ſame time, Pale and Shivering for Fear, de- clining Death by all poſſible Means, and trembling at the very Mention of its Approach; though this very Thing, to which they are ſo exceeding averſe, is confeſs'd to be the Paſſage into their ſo much admi- red Eternity; the only Method of putting them in- to actual Poſſeſſion of thoſe Joys, the very Hope and Reverſion whereof they pretend to value above this whole World 2 - The Fifth and laſt Particular mention'd upon This Occaſion, is only a Putting in execution that which was mention'd before; For what is Dying by one's Own hand, but the Gratification and Accom- pliſhment of a Man's Deſire of Death? This in- deed hath at firſt bluſh a good fair Appearance; and ſeems to proceed from Virtue , and Greatneſs of Spirit : And certain it is, that the Allowance and the Pračtice of it hath been both Frequent and An- tient. Many Inſtances of this kind live in Story, Perſons eminently Great, and Good; of almoſt every Countrey, and every Religion. Greeks and Romans, Egyptians, Perſians, Medes, Gauls, Indian: ; Philoſophers of all Sects, nay Jews too; as is evi- dent from the Faët of old Razias, who hath the Ho- nourable Character of The Father of his Countrey given him, and is conſtantly mentioned with Commen- dation of his Virtue: Another Inſtance the ſame Hiſtory gives us likewiſe in thoſe Women under the Tyranny of Antiochus, who after they had Circum- ciſed their Children, caſt Themſelves down headlong from the Wall with them. Nay, not only few, but Chriſtians too; witneſs thoſe Two Holy Wo- men, Pelagia and Sophronia, Canonized for their Pie- ty and Courage; the former of which, with her Mother and Siſters, caſt her ſelf into a River, that by drowning they might eſcape the Rudeneſs and Violence of the Soldiers; and the latter ſtabb'd her ſelf, to prevent the outragious Luſt of the Emperor 8. Killing ontº ſelf. 2 Mac.xiv." 2 Mac. vi. Maxen- 290 Of Wiſdom. Book II. Maxentius. And, as if ſingle Perſons were not ſuffi- cient to juſtify this Practice, we have whole Cities and Nations giving *...} to it by their Exam- ple. Thus did the Citizens of Capua, to avoid being taken by the Romans; thus did Affapa and Numan- tia in Spain upon the ſame account. Thus the Abi- deans, when hard preſſed by Philip; and a City of the Indians, when Alexander had encamped againſt it. This hath likewiſe had the yet more Authentick Approbations of Laws and Publick Sanétions; and ſeveral Commonwealths have not only permitted, but recommended, and in ſome Caſes brought it in- to a Cuſtom ; as Marſeilles heretofore, the Iſle of Cea in the Negropont, and ſome Northern Nations, in particular; where the Publick Juſtice regulated the Times, and the Methods of doing this. Nor is it only upon Precedents, that the Favourers of this Opinion do rely, but they think it abundantly ſup- ported by Reaſon; and particularly, that ſeveral Arguments of Weight may be deduced from thefor- mer Article to juſtify it. For, ſay They, if a Deſire and Willingneſs to dye, be not Allowable only, but Commendable too; if we may Wiſh and Pray for a Releaſe; if we may put our ſelves in the way of it, and be glad when it is offered; why may we not Give this Relief to our Selves 2 Is the Deſire it ſelf a Virtue, and the Execution of that Deſire a Sin? What is permitted in the Will, why do you call for- bidden in the Aét? That which I may be pleaſed with from Another hand, why ſhould Ibe condemn- ed for from my Own: Indeed why ſhould I waitthe tedious Approach of that from other means, which I can at any time give to my ſelf 2 For is it not better to Act in this Caſe, than to be purely Paſſive? Is it not more Manly and Generous to Meet Death, than lazily to ſit ſtill and attend its Motions : The more Woluntary our Death is, the more like a Man of Honour. Again ; What Law does this offend - - - againſt? Ch. 1 1. Conſtant Readineſs for Teath. 29 i againſt & There are Penalties indeed ordained for Robbers and Pick-pockets, but is any Man liable to them for taking his Own Goods? By the ſame Rea- ſon the Laws againſt Murder do not concern Me. They provide for every Man's Security againſt the Inſults of Others; they tye my Neighbour's hands from taking My Life and Mine up from taking His; becauſe this is ſuppoſed to be an Act of Violence, and want of Conſent in the Sufferer makes it an In- jury; but what is all This to the purpoſe, or how does it render a Man guilty, who voluntarily and deliberately takes away his own Life? Theſe are the Principal, I think indeed, the Whole of thoſe Arguments commonly alledg'd in Defence of this Practice; but then there are Others a great deal more Subſtantial, and more Obligatory, that uſe to be produced for the Contrary Side of the Queſtion. Firſt then. As to Authorities, This Pračtice, how- ever countenanced by ſome, but very few States in compariſon, hath yet been abſolutely diſillow'd, and condemned by the Generality of Mankind; and not only by Chriſtians, but fews too, as joſephus ſhews at large, in the Oration he made to his Offi- cers in the Cave, at the Taking of fotapata. By the Generality of Philoſophers and Great Men, as Plato, and Scipio, and Others; who all impute this mariner of proceeding to a Defect; rather than any Sufficiency of Courage; and reproach it, not only as an Aćt of Cowardice, misbecoming a Brave Man, but of Heat and Impatience, unworthy of a Good Mah. For what can we ſay better of it, than that This is skulking and running out of the way, to hide one's ſelf from the Inſults of Fortune? Now a Virtue that is vigorous and ſtanch, will be ſure to #and its ground: Diſtreſ; and Pain are ſo far from making it flinch, that they feed and cheriſh, aftā ex- alt it; it lives, it grows, it triumphs by them. There See the Ani- madverſions at the End of this Chapter. See Joſeph. de Bill Ju- daic. L. 3. C. 14. U 2 is 292 Of Wiſdom. Book II. is certainly greater Firmneſs of Mind expreſs'd in bearing and making an Advantage of one's Chain, than in breaking it to pieces, becauſe it keeps us confined, and ties us faſt to ſome Uneaſineſſes: And all conſiderate Men muſt allow, that Regulus ſhew’d infinitely more Gallantry than Cato. * The Baſe, when wretched, dare to Dye; but He I, Brave indeed, who dares to Live in Miſery. # If the Crack'd Orbs ſhould ſplit and fall, Cruſh him they might, but not Appall. - - Sir R. Fanſhaw. Nay, theſe Men ought to be accounted Infamous, and treated as Deſerters. For no Man can anſwer quitting the Poſt he is order'd to, without the ex- preſs Leave, and freſh Orders of the Superior Offi- cer, who placed him there. We are by no means put into the World upon our own account alone; and therefore Perſonal Calamities muſt not put us upon an Aćt of ſo great Injuſtice, as the ſquandring away That, in which Others have a Right, as well as We; nor yet are we Maſters of our ſelves, but under the Diſpoſal and Direction of a Lord who hath a Right Paramount. . . . . Thus you ſee what Arguments are generally brought on either ſide; but if we ſet the Conſidera- tions of Duty and Religion aſide, and take the Li- berty to ſpeak the Senſe of mere Nature in the Caſe, the Reſolution ſhe would come to ſeems to be This: That Men ought not to enter upon this Laſt . . . . . . . . . . . . . º 'º -- . . . . - ..." Rebus in Adverſis facile eſt contemnere Vitam: . - - - Fortiter Ille facit, qui Miſer eſſe Éoteſt. Martial Lib.xi. #37. ºf Sifrastus iſlabatur orbis, " ' " " . . . . . Impavidum ferient ruine, “Horat od 3. L. 3, . •º 2 * - : - and Ch. 1. Conſtant Readineſ for Teath. 193 and Boldeſt Exploit, without ſome very extraordi- nary, and moſt preſſing Reaſon to induce them ; that ſo it may be, what They call, making a Decent and Honourable Exit. Every ſlight Occaſion, every little Pett, or croſs Accident, will not juſtify Men's falling out with the World; and therefore, They are certainly in a great Error, who pretend that a ſmall Excuſe will ſerve to quit Life, ſince there are no very Weighty Arguments to perſuade our keeping it. This is highly ungrateful to God and Nature, when ſo Rich a Preſent is ſo much ſlighted and underva- lued; It is an Argument of great Levity, and be- trays a great deal of Moroſeneſs and Ill Humour, when we quarrel and break Company upon every ſlender Provocation. But indeed there is ſomething to be ſaid (though that ſomething is not enough ) for a very Urgent and Weighty Occaſion; ſuch as renders Life a perpetual Torment, and the Thoughts of continuing in it inſupportable; ſuch, for Inſtance, as I mentioned formerly, Long, Acute, Exceſſive Pain, or the certain Proſpect of a very Cruel and Ignominious Death. And upon this account, the ſe- veral Perſons that I am going to name, how fa- vourably ſoever Story hath repreſented their Beha- viour, do by no means ſeem to have a Plea ſufficient to Juſtify, no, not ſo much as to Excuſe a Voluntary Death. Such are Pomponius Atticut, Marcellinus, and Cleanthes, who after they had begun the Proceſs, re- ſolved to finiſh it, merely becauſe they would avoid the trouble of having the whole Courſe to begin and go through again: For, what Apology ſoever might be made for the delivering themſelves from a Pain- ful Diſtemper, yet when that Pain and the Cauſe of it were removed, they lay under no farther Tem- ptation to be out of love with Life; and a bare Poſ- ſibility of the Diſeaſe returning, was a Conſiderati- on much too remote. The Wives of Paetus, and Scaurus, and Labeo, and Fulvius the intimate Friend U 3 of 2.94 of Wiſłom. Book H. of Auguſt as , of Seneca, and a great many more, were as fantaſtically fool-hardy; when they killed Themſelves, either to bear their Husbands Company out of the World , or to invite Them to go with them. So likewiſe Cato and others, who were diſ- contented with the Event of their Undertakings, and the Chance of War; and, choſe rather to dye by their own hands, than to fall into their Enemy's; notwithſtanding theſe Enemies were ſuch, as gave them no juſt ground to fear any barbarous or diſ- honourable Treatment from them neither. The ſame Cenſure will fall upon Them, who murder'd themſelves, rather than they would be beholding to one they hated, for their Lives; or lye at the Mer- cy of an Ill Man; as Gravius Silvanus, and Statius Proximus did, after Nero had given them his Pardon. Nor are They leſs to blame, who run into the Shades of Death, to hide themſelves from Shame, and co- ver the Reproach of ſome paſt Diſhonour or Miſ. fortune; ſuch as Lucretia after the Injury ſhe had ſuffered from Tarquin; and Spargopiſes, Son to Tomy- ris the Scythian Queen, and Bºges Commander under Xerxes; the former, becauſe he could not bear bei Priſoner of War to Cyrus; the other for the i. a Town taken by Cimon the Athenian General. Nor They, who could not endure to ſurvive a Publick Calamity, though nothing extraordinary had befal- len Them in particular; ſuch as Narva the Great Lawyer, Vibius Virius at the Taking of Capua, and jubellius at the Death of the greateſt part of their Senators, inflièed by a Roman Officer. And leaſt of all can thoſe Nice and Delicate People excuſe themſelves, who chuſe to dye, becauſe they are cloyed with Life, and weary of repeating the Same Things over again. Nay, I muſt go farther yet. For it is by no means ſufficient, that the Occaſion be very Important, and full of Difficulty; unleſs it be Deſperate, and paſt all Remedy too; for nothing leſs * 195 Ch. 11. Conſtant Readineſ for Teath. 1: ſ: º g ſ: leſs than Neceſſity ought to be pleaded here ; and This ſhould be the Laſt Reſerve, the Only Eſcape from Extremity of Misfortune. Upon this Account Raſhneſs, and Deſpondency, and anticipating one's Fate, and Giving all for Loſt is always exceeding blameable; an Inſtance whereof we have in Brutus and Caſſius, who, before there was any occaſion for it, put an End to their own Lives, and with Them to all the languiſhing Remains of the Liberty of Rome, which was committed to, and depended en- . tirely upon Their Protećtion. For, as Cleomemes tru- }; Men are under an Obligation to uſe Life fugally,and to make it go as far as poſſibly they can; nay, not only to contrive, that it may laſt as long as is poſſible, but that it may be uſeful to the very laſt. For a Man may diſcharge himſelf of this Truſt at any time; and when Things are at the very worſt that they can be , This Remedy is what no Man can be at a loſs for. But we ſhould wait for better Days, and try whether the hand of our For- tune will not mend upon us.. ." Many a Man, as Se- neca obſerves, hath outliv'd his Executioner. joſephus, and a great many beſides, have followed this Advice to excellent good purpoſe ; and Matters, when in all human probability deſperate and loſt, have wheel'd about, and taken a quite different Courſe, to the mighty Surprize, as well as Advantage, of all that were concerned in them. - - t Good unexpected, Evil; unforeſeen, Appear by Turns, as Fortune ſhifts the Scene: Some rais'd aloft, come tumbling down amaim, Them fall ſo hard, they bound and riſe again. * , Mr. Dryden. * Aliquis Carnifici ſuo ſuperſtes fuit. # Multa Dies variuſque labor mutabilis evi Rettulit in melius, Pirg, Æneid. II. U 4 In 196 Of Wiſdom. Book II. In this Caſe a Man of Honour and Virtue ought to aćt toward Himſelf, as he ſhould in fighting, toward his Adverſary; To be always upon his Guard; to parry and ward off the Blows with all the Art and Skill one hath, to weary him out, and make good one's own Party; but never to Kill, except the ne- ceſſary Defence of one's ſelf require it, and till Matters are brought to the very laſt Puſh. * Secondly, There is no Queſtion to be made, but it is infinitely more Virtuous, and more Commen- dable, to endure patiently, and ſupport our ſelves with firm and immoveable Conſtancy, to the very End, than to fink under the Load, and tamely flee before the Calamity. For ſuch a Yielding betrays Weakneſs and Cowardice. But, becauſe Perſeve- rance, like Continence, is a Grace not given equally to All , nor is every Man alike able to receive it ; the Queſtion before us at preſent will be, Whether upon Suppoſition of ſome Great Evil, Inſupportable for the Quality, and paſt all Hopes of Remedy or Recovery; ſuch as is likely enough to ſubvert and beat down all our Reſolution, and Irritate our Minds to ſome very wicked Paſſion; ſuch as Diſcontent, Deſpair, Murmuring againſt our Great Lord; Whe- ther, I ſay, in ſuch a Caſe, it might not be more expedient, or at leaſt more excuſable, to deliver one’s ſelf by One Reſolute Aét, from ſuch Dread- ful, ſuch Vicious Conſequences, while our Under- ſtanding is perfect and undiſturb’d; than by a Cowardiy Delay to expoſe our ſelves to the Danger of being vanquiſhed by the Temptation, and ſo ruined to all Eternity 2 Is it not better to quit the Field, than to Sacrifice one's ſelf by obſtinately ſtanding one's ground 2 This perhaps is a Courſe, which in ſome very Nice and Difficult Exigencies, Reaſon and merely Human Prudence might adviſe; and accordingly ſome, who pretended to be great Philoſophers, have pračtiſed it, in different Countries; ſo Ch.1.1. Conſtant Readineſ for Teath. 197 ſo that the Opinion ſeems to have been pretty fa- vourably received. The Stoicks do not ſtand upon ſo much Ceremony, but give Men leave to diſlodge and pack off, whenever they are diſpoſed to it; as we may colle&t from Semeca and others. The other Philoſophers are ſomewhat more reſerved, but They allow it too; provided a Man can give a good rea- ſon for his proceeding thus. Theſe are the Notions, and Determinations of the Schools of Philoſophy and Human Reaſon; but That of Chriſt teaches us much otherwiſe. For the Chriſtian Religion admits no reaſon to be ſufficient in this Caſe, nor ever diſpenſes with any Circumſtances whatſoever. The Truth and Wiſdom of God abſolutely condemns all ſuch Officious and Voluntary abandoning of our Poſt ; and never ſuffers us to ſtir from our ñº, till we are regularly diſmiſs'd, by the ſame Authority which placed us in it. No Man's own Inclinations are ſufficient, nor can the doing it of his own head bear him out in this matter. So that whatever hath been ſaid in this Chapter, which may ſeem in any degree to adviſe Men to Patience and Perſeverance, and to propoſe This, as the better and more eligible; though , in the Philoſophical Senſe, it be only re- commended as Good Counſel; yet in a Religious one, it hath the force of an abſolute and indiſpen- ſable Command. . . : Beſides we may add , That it is an Argument of very great Wiſdom, for a Man to know and di- ftinguiſh rightly, which is the proper ſeaſon for Dy- ing; and to lay hold on that Opportunity, when put into his hands. For every Man hath a Critical junéture of this kind, in which Virtue and Honour call; which Some by being over-hatty Antedate, and Others as much too ſlow let ſlip through their Hands. Both theſe Defects, though ſo contrary in the Operation, yet proceed from the ſame Princi- ples; which are a mixture of Weakneſs, and of - Cou- 198 of Wiſdom, Book II. Courage: But the Misfortune is, That even Mag- nanimity it ſelf, without Diſcretion to Temper and Direct it, will not ſecure a Man's Charaćter. How many Perſons of juſt Renown, and once unble- miſhed Honour, have yet had the Unhappineſs of ſurviving their Reputation; and from an Intempe- rate Fondneſs of Life, for the ſake of ſome poor little addition to their Days, have abſolutely Sullied and Eclipſed their former Glories, followed all their Credit to the Grave, a good Name Murthered and Buried by their Own Hands 2 The wretched re- mainder of their time hath retained not the leaſt Tinéture or Reſemblance of what went before; but the Scandal of Their Age, compared with the Ho- nours of their earlier Years, looks like ſome wretch- ed old Clout, tack'd to ſome very Rich and Beauti- ful Garment. And who would patch up Life at this Odious Deformed rate 2 It is with This, as with Fruit; there is a Critical Seaſon of gathering it from the Tree. If you let it hang too long, it putrifies and grows Inſipid ; and the longer you ſpare it, the worſe it is ; and if you pluck it too ſoon, the loſs is as great in the other Extreme ; for then it is Green and Sowr, and good for nothing for want of kindly Ripening. Many Eminent Saints have with great Induſtry declined Dying, upon conſideration of their great Uſefulneſs, and the mighty Advantage the Publick would receive from their Surviving ; and this too, not- withſtanding the certain Proſpect of their own Pri- vate Gain in leaving the World. And when a Man can exchange ſo much for the better, it argues great Charity, to be content to Live. This St. Paul de- ſcribes to be his own Caſe, (Phil. I.) And there is more than Men commonly think of Reſignation in that Old Saying, If my longer Continuance be for the Benefit of thy People, I refuſe not the toil of Living. Si Populo tuo ſum neceſſarius, non recuſo Laborem. h Deat Ch. 1 1. Conſtant Readineſ; for Teath. 299 Death appears to us under divers Shapes; and the manner of Men's undergoing it, is vaſtly different; ſome of the ways of Dying are more eaſy, and ac- cordingly the Figures and Idea's of it much leſs diſ. mal and frightful, than Others. But when all is done ; the Difference of theſe Forms, is like that of Faces; and the Preference given to them depends chiefly upon Humour and Fancy. So far as I am capable of Judging. Of all Deaths which are uſually termed Natural, That is the Gentleſt and moſt Sup- portable, which proceeds from a gradual W. and Stupefaction of the Parts: And of All that are Violent, That ſure is moſt eligible, which is quick- eſt in Execution and Diſpatch, and is leaſt thought of before-hand. Some indeed are fond of making their laſt Aćt Exemplary, a Pattern to Others, and a Commendation to Themſelves; by the Proofs they ive the World, of Courage, and Wiſdom, and Steadineſs of Mind at their laſt Hour; But This is rather to have a regard for Other People than One's Self; and a Symptom of a Wainglorious Humour, which is ºf Fame, even at the Moment we Expire; and reproaches Us with Vanity, rather than brings any real Advantage to Mankind in common. Now Dying is not an Act of Society, but of One ſingle Perſon; and therefore the Rules, for Regula- ting our Behaviour in it are Perſonal. At ſuch a time a Man hath enough to do, to mind his own Buſineſs; and the Thing he is chiefly obliged to at- tend, is to Comfort and Support himſelf in this laſt great Conflict, without troubling himſelf with the Affairs, or the Cenſures of other People; for he is that very Moment putting himſelf out of the Do- minion of Common Fame, and going to a Place, where what the ſurviving World ſays will neither reach nor concern him. That, in a word, is the Beſt Death, which is moſt Private; where a Man hath greateſt opportunities of Recoilećting º aſ] 2 I. 3oo - of Wiſdom. Book II. in the very mid and going out of the World, Quietly, without any troubleſome Attendance or Obſervation. The uſual Ceremonies of our Friends and Relations being by, and giving Their Aſſiſtance in the . Struggles of Life, is exceeding Troubleſome and Inconvenient; One Diſturbs your Sight with an Object that had better be away; Another your Ear with ſome Im- pertinent Diſcourſe; a Third your Mouth by forcing upon you ſome fruitleſs Medicine or Suſtenance; and All together Croud, and Confound, and per- fectly Stifle the Dying Man.” Then their Tears, and Groans, and Lamentations, are more Torment- ing than all the reſt; if they be Real, and proceed from Affection and Concern, they melt one down, break one's Courage and Reſolution, and cut one to the very Heart: If they be Formal only, and put on for Decency or Deſign; they raiſe one's In- dignation, and provoke a very unſeaſonable Paſſion ſ of Agonies and Convulſions. Se- veral very Conſiderable Perſons have been ſo ſenſible of this Inconvenience, that they have contrived in- duſtriouſly, to Dye at a diſtance from their Relati- ons, on purpoſe to be out of the way of it. And ſure That which moves many People to deſire the contrary, is very ridiculous. For what can be more Childiſh and Senſleſs, than to pleaſe one's ſelf with moving the Compaſſion of Friends and Ac- quaintance; and be proud that a great many People expreſs a tender Concern for what we Endure? We cannot but commend Firmneſs of Mind, and a Hardy Virtue in encountring Misfortunes; We ex- hort our Friends to it, when it is their Own Caſe, and upbraid them with Weakneſs, if they take it too tenderly; and yet this very Wirtue we hate, and accuſe as inhuman and wanting in Affection, when the Calamity is Ours. Then They who were for- merly chidden for reſenting their Own, are reproach- ed, if they are not afflićted, and do not perfectly ſink Ch. 1 1. Conſtant Readineſ for Teath. 301 fink under Our Sufferings. We condemn their Com- plaints for what they feel; and yet we cannot al- low them ſo much as to be patient under what the only ſee. This is unjuſt, unreaſonable, and fooli to the laſt degree. And certainly a Wiſe Man when fick, ſhould be very well content at leaſt, if not much better pleaſed, with the Compoſed Counte- nances, and reſigned Behaviour, of all the Friends that aſſift in his Extremities. 3oz. Of Wiſdom. Book II, | - C H A P. XII. The maintaining a True and liminterrupted Tranquillity of Spirit, which is the ver, Crown and Glory of Wiſdom : And the Laſ Head of this Book. I. Quiet and Contented Mind is the Supreme Good, the utmoſt Felicity Man is capable of in This World. This is that Rich and Noble, in- deed that ineſtimable Treaſure, which the Wiſe Men of Old with ſo much Labour and Application ſought after; the Fruit of all their Travels, the End of all their Studies, the Sum and Complement of all their Philoſophy; and This is the very Reward of all the Pains, and the Crown of all the Wiſdom, to which I am now Inſtituting my Scholar in this Treatiſe. But This, like other Excellencies, is fre- quently miſunderſtood; and therefore to prevent any ſuch Errors at preſent, I muſt firſt acquaint you, That the Quiet I now ſpeak of, does by no means conſiſt in a Retreat from the Noiſe and Clutter of the World, Leiſure from Buſineſs, Time at Com- mand, no Cares to diſturb one; a Delightful, Nice, and uninterrupted Solitude, full of Eaſe and Plenty; or in a profound Neglect and Oblivion of what is done Abroad: Were this the Cafe, what an infinite Number of happy Perſons ſhould we have 2 Care. leſs and Idle Women, Slothful and Inſignificant Fellows, Cowards and Coxcombs, the Senſual and Luxurious, would have this Bleſſing at Command. For if want of Thought and Buſineſs give a Title to = Ch.1.1. Tranquillity of Spirit. to it, Theirs is indiſputable; and what the Wiſe aſpire after , and think a Prize ſufficient for a Twhole Life's Study, Theſe attain to by a much eaſier way. This then is the firſt Principle we are to go upon, That Multiplicity of Buſineſs, or Having nothing to do, neither of them conſtitute or deſtroy, take from or contribute to, the Tranquillity we are now ſpeaking of . But This is a Decent and Beauti- ful, a Gentle and Mild, an Equal and United, a Firm and Pleaſant Compoſure of Temper. Such a "Steadineſs of Mind, as neither Buſineſs nor Leiſure, neither Proſperous nor Adverſe Fortune, no Turn of Time or Chance can diſturb or change, exalt or de- preſs. For This is the Property and “ Charačer of true Tranquillity, Never to be ſhaken ; but to continue immoveable, and unconcerned; always in humour, and always the ſame. - The next Conſideration upon this Occaſion, is, By what Methods a Man may riſe up to this Sedate- neſ; and Elevation of Soul; how we ſhall attain; and when attained, how we ſhall preſerve, and maintain our ſelves in it. And for This we need on- ly refreſh our Memories, with what hath been al- ready delivered in this Second Book: For They are the Rules, by the Obſervation and careful Pračtice whereof we may hope to gain our Point. And therefore, for the Reader's Eaſe and better Conve- nience, I will here very briefly repeat the Subſtance of them. They conſiſted, you remember, of Two ſorts. Firſt, Such as either carry off, or prevent all thoſe Qualities, that are Obſtructions to our Im- provement in this Happineſs. And 2dly, Such as fur- niſh and adorn the Mind, with ſuch Virtues as tend to the Increaſe and Conſervation of it. Thoſe Things that are apteſt to hinder, or to diſturb the Eaſe and : "Vera Tranquillitas non concuti, Quiet 3o4 Of Wiſdom. Book II. Quiet of the Mind; are Popular Opinions, and Common Prejudices, which, notwithſtanding they have made themſelves almoſt Univerſal, are yet, for the moſt part, Falſe and Groundleſs; and a Man would wonder, which way Notions could get ſo much Credit, which have ſo very ſmall a Stock of Argument to ſet up upon. The next Impediment to be removed ariſes from our Paſſions and Deſires, for Theſe indulged quite ſpoil and break our Tem- er; they make us Nice and Squeamiſh; Humour- # and Difficult; and Theſe are Qualities utterly inconſiſtent with Contentedneſs: Now Theſe Paſſi- ons and Appetites are kindled and put into motion, by the Two contrary ſorts of Events, which we call Proſperity and Adverſity; for They are the Winds and Storms, that ſwell and diſorder the Soul, and make all within foul Weather, and a troubled Sea. The laſt thing to be remedied is that mean and narrow-ſpirited Captivity of Thought, by which the Mind ( that is, the Judgment and the Will, ) is Chained down like a Slave to his Galley, or cramp'd up like a Beaſt with his Yoke, to ſet Forms, parti- cular Opinions, and Local Cuſtoms. Now the firſt thing a Man hath to do, is to knock off all theſe Fetters, and break through ſuch unreaſonable Ty- ranny and Confinement; to ſet one's Mind at large, aſſert our native Liberty, and reſolve to be at our own diſpoſal. To entertain free, extenſive Noti- ons of things ; and be Open and Univerſal, Inqui- fitive and Diſcerning, enlarging our Studies and our Idea's, and ranging through all the ſpacious Plains of the World and Nature in general. For a Wiſe and Happy Man muſt anſwer that Deſcription; * Born for the Publick, conſidering this whole World as In commune genitus, inundum ut unam domum ſpectans, toti ſe infºrens mundo, & in omnes ejus actus contemplationem ilian] nºittenS. - • ‘T ... .". (77° Ch. 1 1. Conſtant Readineſ for Death. one Common Houſe and Family, concerning himſelf with all the parts of it, and employing his Contemplation upon every thing that paſſes there. When the Platform is thus cleared of Rubbiſh, and the Ground prepared, and ready to begin upon, the next thing in order is to lay the Foundations; and thoſe are Two, An entire ſubſtantial Probity of Mind, and The Fixing one's ſelf in ſuch a Calling or Condition, as our Nature, Circumſtances, and other Qualifications have fitted us for. The Mate- rials, with which this Building muſt be carried up, and wherein both the Strength and Beauty of it will conſiſt, are theſe that follow. The Firſt and Principal is, True Piety; whereby a Man Con- templates Almighty God, not with a Soul full of Horror and Amazement, but with a Mind full of Purity, with Freedom and Delight, with profound Reſpect, and fervent Devotion. For God is the Abſolute, the Univerſal Lord and Governor of all Things; and, though his Nature and Eſſence be nei- ther viſible to our Senſes, nor fall within the Com- prehenſion of our Underſtandings, ſo that we are not able to give our Selves, or Others, an exact and perfect Account what He is in Himſelf; yet it is our Duty to Acknowledge and Confeſs Him; to pay him all poſſible Honour, and Homage, and humble Adoration ; to Serve Him Zealouſly, and with our whole Heart; to entertain becoming Thoughts of his Providence and Perfections; to Hope and Truſt in Him for all manner of Good, from the Being who is Goodneſs in the Abſtract; to apprehend nothing of Evil or Injury from Him; but be aſſured, if any thing we reſent as ſuch, hap- pen to us, it is the Effect of our own Provocations and Follies, and moſt juſtly inflicted. In the next place, Simplicity and Integrity in Converſation muſt be added, Conformity without troubleſome and un- neceſſary Scruples to the Laws and Cuſtoms º ": X 32C of Wiſdom. Book II. \ Place where we dwell; Living without Hypocriſy or Diſſimulation, Dealing Fairly and Above-board, no Crafty Reſervation or Diſguiſe, but to let our Words and Aëtions ſpeak our Heart; and the inmoſt receſſes of our Soul be thus laid open to God and the World. This is another Charaćter given of a Wiſe Man; That he " Spreads his Conſcience, as it overe, and expoſes it to Publick view, Lives and Aćis con- ſtantly, as if all Mankind were Conſcious of what he does, and hath a greater Reverence for Himſelf than for the Obſervation of Others. He that Manages himſelf thus, can never want Encouragement to do well, nor powerful Reſtraints from doing otherwiſe. Then fol- lows Moderation, which muſt extend to All Perſons and Things; our Selves, and All that can be any way concerned or converſe with Us ; our Thoughts, and Words, our Deſigns, and Aëtions, muſt All be regulated by it. For Moderation is the Original and Source, the Nouriſher and Cheriſher of Tran- quillity; by This we learn to lay aſide and to de- ſpiſe all Pomp, and Shew, and vain Superfluities; to bring our Deſires within their proper compaſs; to keep them under Government, and to content our ſelves with a Competent proviſion, ſuch propor- tions of every thing as our Occaſions require, when really and rightly conſidered, without any of thoſe Imaginary Wants, which we are apt to form to our ſelves: And thus Diſpoſed we come to like, and be very well pleaſed with our preſent Condition, not envious of other People's Enjoyments, not fond of Change. How much all this conduces to Happineſs and Tranquillity, a very ſlight Reflection will ſerve to convince us: Tor when Moderation hath thus furled the Sails, The Storm , when it blows hard, Conſcientiam ſuam aperiens, ſemperque tanquam in publico Vivens, ſe magis veritus qiān ałos, hath Ch. 1 1. Conſtant Readineſ, for Teath. 307 hath leſs to faſten upon; and cannot do us any Da- mage comparable to that we ſhould ſuffer, if our De- fires were enlarged, and the Sheet let fly to the Wind. By thus contracting our ſelves, we are for- tified againſt every Accident that might Shock or In- jure us; we bear our Minds up above all manner of Fear ; deſpiſe all the Aſſaults of Fortune, and the Malice of Death it ſelf; looking upon that, as the period of all our Sufferings; a kind Friend which takes us out of the way from infinite Calamities, but creates not, nor expoſes us to any one. Thus alſo the Wiſe Man is deſcribed. " One that deſpiſes all thoſe things which are the Plagues and Torments of Human Life; above the reach of Accidents, without Anxiety, without Fear, without any kind of tender or troubleſome Concern. Thus a Man muſt ſecure Steadi- neſs of Mind, and a good Agreement with himſelf; he muſt look for his Satisfaction in his own Breaſt; Live Eaſily, and have no Diſputes, no Trouble within; but keep all there Peaceable, and Chearful; Rejoycing and Congratulating with one's own Mind; and Dwelling, as we call it, at Home, with full Contentation, and a ſort of Self-ſufficiency; ſuch as is highly Neceſſary and Commendable, ſuch as nothing but Wiſdom can give, and without which neither It, nor the Happineſs it propoſes for our Re- ward, can poſſibly ſubſiſt. T No Body but the Wiſe Man is pleaſed with his own Condition. All Folly in a little time grows ſick of it ſelf; No Man is Happy, who does not think himſelf ſo. - * Contemptor omnium, quibus torquetur Vita : ſupra omnia quae contingunt accidumtgue eminens. Intrepidus, Impertur- batus. + Niſi Sapienti ſua non placent. Omnis Stultitia laborat ſiſtidio ſui, Non eſt beatus, effe ſe quinon putat, X 2. In 3o4 Of Wiſdom. Book II. In a word. To this Compoſition of an Eaſy and Quiet Mind Two Ingredients are indiſpenſably re- quiſite. The Firſt, and indeed the Chief, is a Clear and a Good Conſcience; which does inſpire Men with wonderful Strength and Aſſurance, and is a nighty Stay, and Defence, and Support in all man- ner of Contingencies. But yet This, as mighty as it is, will not ſingly be a ſufficient Defence; for ſometimes the Tempeſt is ſo exceeding fierce and ſtrong, that all the Innocence in the World is not able to bear up againſt it. How often do we ſee very good Men in very grievous Calamities, deject- ed and at a loſs Nay, our Bleſſed Saviour himſelf mentions ſome Tribulations of his foretelling, which ſhould endanger even ſeducing the very Elect. To This therefore we muſt add One more , which is Strength of Mind, and Natural Courage; and of this too it muſt much more be allowed, that It alone is by no means ſufficient for our purpoſe. For the Force of Conſcience is prodigious, and almoſt un- conceivable; It ſtares us in the face, haunts and dogs us with guilty Remorſe, makes us betray, ac- cuſe, and turn Enemies to our ſelves; and for want of other Evidence to convić us, it compels us to inform, and give Teſtimony of our own Crimes. . For Yºy mº Thºſe be thought to 'ſcape, who feel Thoſe Rods of Scorpions, and thoſe Whips of Steel, H%icº Conſcience ſhakes, when ſhe with Rage controuis, And ſpreads amazing Terrors through their Souls? Not ſharp Revergº, nor Hell it ſelf can find 2 fºrcer Torment, than a guily Mind. It draws our indictment, Arraigns, Tries, Condemns, and puts us to Death: So difierent are the Parts it Occultum quatiente Animo tortore flag-ilum. Juv. St. 1 3 - a 5ts, m" - * Ch. 11. Conſtant Readineſs for Death. 3 og * afts, and yet ſo dextrous and powerful is it in ſup- plying the place of Adverſary, Witneſs, Judge, and * Executioner, that we need no other. No Covert & can do the Ill Man's buſineſs, ſays Epicurus; for let it be never ſo cloſe, yet he can Never think him- ſelf ſafe ; for Conſcience will be ſure to diſcover a him to Himſelf, and that Diſcovery will always re- * preſent, and ſometimes create Danger. . i Though Bribes or Favour ſhall affºrt his Cauſe, º Pronounce him guiltleſs, and elude the Laws, ... None quits Himſelf, his own impartial Thought Will damm, and Conſcience vill record the Fault. ; This fift the Wicked feels -—— So that upon the whole matter, let a Man be never ſo º Holy and Good, yet at the ſame time, if he be in his iſ own TemperTimorousand Faint-hearted; and again, leta Man be naturally never ſo ſtout, and a ſtranger to Fear, yet if hebe not a Good Man, and his Conſcience tº cannot ſpeak Peace to him ; neither the One, nor … the Other of theſe Perſons will ever be capable of ; this happy Tranquillity of Spirit, this Perfection and * Fruit of Wiſdom, which we are at preſent treating 2 of There muſt be a Friendly Correſpondence, a Mutual Aſſiſtance of Both ; and They , in whoſe Souls both meet together, are qualified to do Won- ders; and ſuch are the moſt Eminent Perſons, which we find renowned in Story for Great and No- ble Aëtions, and Intrepid Behaviour in Times of greateſt Trial. Such were Epaminonday, Cato and Scipio in particular, whoſe Unconcernedneſs in Dan- get and Death is admirable. Theſe two Romans, when publickly accuſed, put thoſe very Perſons, who ^ t –Prima eſt ha-c Ultio quëd ſe Judice nemonocens abſolvitur. Rºid, X 3 pre- 3 to Of Wiſdom. Book II. preferred the Complaint againſt them, to the bluſh ; and made them betray their Shame to the whole Aſ- ſembly. They gained over the Judges to their ſide, and ſtruck all the Audience ſo, as not only to win their Favour, but to raiſe their Admiration. And all this only with that aſtoniſhing Unconcernedneſs, and Equality of Mind, which appeared in their Carriage; for the Character Livy gives of Scipio, and the reaſon of his voluntary Exile aſſigned there, is, That he had a heart too big, too generous, to know how to be treated like a Criminal, or deſcend ſo low as complying with the Cuſtom of defending his own Innocence by a for- mal Apology". * Major animus ac Natura erat, quam ut Reus eſſe ſciret, & ſubmittere ſe in Humilitatem cauſam dicentium. Tit. Liv. Hiſt. Lib. 38. The End of the Second Book O F Advertiſements. Book II. Chap. 5. Page 116. Sečf. 2. N Imagination, which, “to thoſe who think Sacrifices to “ have been of human Invention ” ſeems to have been the Ground of all that way of Worſhip. I have, in the rendring of this Paſſage, added thoſe words, “To thoſe who think Sacrifices to have been of human Invention,” not ſuppoſing it at all proper, to let the Sentence run in general Terms, when the Matter affirmed here by our Author is, (to ſay the leaſt of it, ) ſo very diſputable. And ac- cordingly I beg the Reader's Leave to detain him a little upon this occaſion, while I lay before him the miſtake of our Author, in theſe Two particulars, with Relation to Sacrifices; The Firſt whereof is deſigned to ſhew, that Sacrifices were not at all of Human Invention Originally, The Second, That ſuppoſing them to have been ſo, yet this Superſtitious and Falſe Imagina- tion of a God taking delight in the Sufferings and Calamities of his Creatures, does not ſeem to have been the Foundation of them, but rather Other Notions of the Deity, of a very diffe- rent kind from This. Firſt then, I deſire it may be conſidered, Whether Sacrifices were Originally of Human Invention at all ; which they muſt needs have been, to juſtify Monſieur Charron's Opinion of their proceeding from an Erroneous and moſt unbecoming Idea of God, entertained in the Minds of Ignorant Men. This indeed hath been a Point upon which Learned Men have differed in all Ages, and very great Authorities it is to be confeſs'd there are on both Sides. The Learned Reader, who hath the Leiſure and Curioſity to inform himſelf, how this matter ſtands, may ſee the variety of Judgments, and the Ground of them, in the fe- veral Commentators upon the Fourth and Eighth Chºpters of X 4 Gºreń, 3 11 3 12 Advertiſements. Geneſs, where the Sacrifices of Abel and Noah are mentioned ; Or if that be too Laborious to compare Expoſitors, Two of our Learned Countrymen will help him to a ſhort and full Colle&ti- on of what can be ſaid for that ſide, which aſſerts the Human In , ention of Sacrifices. Dr. Outram, I mean, in his Book, De Sacrificijs. Lib. 1. Cap. 1. De Sacrificiºrum Origine. And Dr. Spencer in his Treatiſe de Legibus Hebræorum, Lib. 3. Diſſert. 2. Cap. 4. De Ratione & Origine Sacrificiorum Patriarchalium. It would be too great an Expence both of the Reader's time and my own, as well as improper for the nature of an Adver- tiſement, to lay down at large all that is uſually argued on both ſides of the Queſtion. The ſum of it may be reduced within a narrow Compaſs; and therefore I ſhall with all poſſible Brevity, mention the Arguments of Thoſe, who maintain the Human Invention of Sacrifices, together with the Reaſons which I con- ceive may perſuade the Contrary rather, and that in regard they either ſeem to take off the Force of Their Arguments ; or otherwiſe recommend the Divine Inſtitution of Sacrifices, as an Opinion more probable, and liable to leſs Difficulties. H. Firſt then, It is urged, That God himſelf denies, that he ever Inſtituted Sacrifices, till after the Iſraelites Deliverance out of their Egyptian Bondage; from whence the Concluſion is this; That whatſoever Sacrifices were offered before that time, they muſt neceſſarily be of Man's own Deviſing, ſince we have the Teſtimony of God, declaring in very ſolemn manner, that they were not of His Appointment. The Texts inſiſted upon to this pºrpoſe are thoſe two, Iſaiah I. 1 1, 12. To what purpºſe is the Multitude of your Sacrifices unto me, Jaith the Lord? I am full of the Burnt Oſſer. 'gs of Rams, and the Fat of fed Beaſts, and I delight not in the B.wd ºf Bullocks, or of Lambs, or of Hegoat; ; when ye come to appear before ºne, who hath required this at your hand, to tread m) Courts & The Other, jerem VII. 21, 22. Thus ſaith the Lo, a of Hoffs, the God of Iſrael, Put your Burnt-offerings unto your Sacrifices, and at Fiſh. For Iſpake not unto your Fathers, nor cum: maided them iv the day, that I brought them out of the land of Egypt, concerning Burnt Cºring, or Sacrifice:. . . Now any One, who conſiders the Occaſion of theſe Paſſges, will find that both of them are intended for a Reproof to the Hypocriſy of the Jews, and a Check to that Confidence, they repoſed in thoſe Ritual Performances, though void of that real Devotion, ard inward Pulity, which alone was acceptable to God. The Context in each "ace minifeſtly proves this to have been their deſign, and the want cf Comparative degrees in the H. brºw Hºgºge, vili ſoff.; no great ſtreſs to be laid upon the Negºtive : ºº in ºf ſpee h, That known inſtance quoted by our Bleſſed Advertiſements. 3 13 Bleſſed Lord, I will have Mercy and not Sacrifice, is Key ſufficient Matth. IX. to theſe before us, and can warrant our concluding only thus 13. much from them; “That God prefers ſubſtantial Holineſs in- XII 7 from “ finitely before theſe things ; that Obedience was That Thing Hoſta VI. “he always required, and Sacrifices being in reality but ſo 6. “ many profeſſions of That, were not properly to be look'd up- “on as Eſſential Duties, wherein the Iſraelite; part of the Co- “venant conſiſted ; that Theſe were by no means what he aimed “at in admitting them to Covenant with himſelf; and conſe- “quently, when deſtitute of their Subſtance and End, were “ empty and inſignificant, of no account with God, and not a “Worſhipping him, but , to ſpeak plainly and truly, what “ he very emphatically, and contemptuouſly calls, a Treading his “Courts". I add too, that this Text of #eremiah cannot poſſi- bly be taken in a ſtrict and literal Senſe, ſince it is manifeſt God did ſpeak to their Fathers in the very day that he brought them. out of Egypt, concerning one Sacrifice, the Paſleover, I mean, Deat XVI which though a Feaſt, yet is it frequently termed a Sacrifice too; , s 3. " and therefore ſome Interpreters here have taken refuge in re- 'd. v ſtraining that Text to Sin-Offerings and Peace Offerings, and - W - not extending it to Sacrifices at large; which yet will not anſwer nor their purpoſe, ſince the very ſame Hebrew word, which jeremy -- r makes uſe of, is twice together applied to the Paſſover, by Moſes, Zabach. Deut, XVI 5, 6. - L01}xbach. 8 II. A Second Argument is drawn from Cain and Abel Offer- ing, each the product of his own Labours reſpectively, which makes it probable, that ſuch Oblations were the produćt of a grateful Mind, dićtating to them that God ought to have ſome acknowledgment and return made him for his Benefits. Now that Nature might inform Men, of a Duty incumbent upon them to Worſhip God, and the Common Notions of Gratitude put them upon applying part of their Subſtance to the Honour and Service of Him, who gave the whole, Men find eaſy to apprehend. But the difficulty is, How Nature ſhould inſpire Men with a Thought, that Burning this by Fire, or otherwiſe ordering it, as the Cuſtom of Sacrificers was, is a proper Method of expreſſing their Honour for, and Gratitude to God. Again, Had Sacrifices been a dićtate of Nature, How came they ever to be Aboliſhed, ſince the Natural is part of that Law, which our Saviour came nºt to deſtrºy, but tº prºfeº and fulfil & This Mat, V 17 Inconvenience Dr. Outram was ſenſible of, and therefore he " " '' '' makes a diſtinčtion between the Firſt and Eternal DiStates and Laws of Nature, and other Inſtitutions and Ordinan- ces in purſuance of, and agreement with thoſ. Whether this be ſufficient to clear the Difficulty, I leave the Reader to judge, and for that purpoſe I have preſented him ". - t ) 3.14 Advertiſements . the whole Paſſige in the "Margin. One thing only Ideſire may be obſerved, which is, That this Argument, of what force ſoever it may prove, for Sacrifices of Thanks, yet can give no Countenance at all to Thoſe of any Other Sort; and particular- ly not to the Expiatory, which Monſieur Charron hath chiefly regard to, if not to them alone, in this place. III. A Third Reaſon is taken from the great Deſign God ſeems to have had in the Legal Sacrifices, That of containing the Iſ. raelites within the Worſhip of One God, and in order to it, con- deſcending ſo far to their Infirmities, and the Infečtion they had taken from the Idolatry of Egypt, as to conform their Worſhip and Rites to thoſe of the Heathen World. Now it is not to be denied, but this ſeems to have been the Caſe, and probably the beſt account why ſuch particular Rites were inſtituted ; but to make the Argument effectual, we muſt enquire, how thoſe Hea- then came by Their Sacrifices and Ceremonies. For That may be a very good and rational Explanation of the Moſaic Inſtitution, which is not a ſufficient account of the Patriarchal Religion. And in the Sequel of this Diſcourſe my Reader will find occaſion to conſider, whether there were not another End to be ſerved by the Sacrifices both Patriarchal and Levitical, which mere Nature could not attain to, and therefore a Poſitive Inſtitution was ne- ceſſary for the promoting it. IV. It may be ſaid Fourthly, That as God left the firſt Ages of the World, to the Dićtates of Nature and right Reaſon in the Diſcovery and Pračtice of Moral Duties, ſo it is moſt likely they were left to the ſºme Guidance for the exerciſe of Religion too; and if any Notions and Ceremonies grew common upon this occaſion, not ſo agreeable to the Nature of true Religion, and the Dignity of an Almighty Majeſty; theſe are capable of great Allowances, and ſuit well enough with the Simplicity of the Firſt Ages of the World. To This I preſume it may ſuffice to anſwer, That the Caſe of * Id unum hoc in loco monºre viſum eff, ho; qui ſuff cujuſtue ſponte primo Sacrificatum judicant , etiamſ; forte, quibusdam in ſocis in- cautius loqui videantur ; hunc tamen Sacrificandi ritum ad Na- ture Lege; proprie dišas, a ternas utique & immutabiles non referre ; ſed ad ejuſmodi Inſtituta, qua Ratio Naturalis excogita- verit tanguam ad conſpicuum Dei cultum, apta ſatis & idonea. Prius lud ſº qui fecerint, ex eo falſº arguuntur, quéd Chri$tus $acrificandi ritus apud Peteres olim uſitatos penitus apud Suos delevit ; gui idem tamen tantam alſuit , ut ullas aboleret Naturae Leges, ut ** ºmnes Authoritate ſud ratas, certas, as firma, fecerit, Outram, de Sacrif Lib, I. Cap. 1. Sett, IV. - - Moral Advertiſements. 315 Moral Duties, and Religious Rites is very different: The One re purely the reſult of a reaſonable and thinking Mind; The Dther of a Nature which we muſt needs be much in the dark bout. For though Reaſon would convince me, that God is to Ye worſhipped, yet He alone can tell me, what Worſhip will * acceptable to him. At leaſt, if I muſt beat out my own Track, the Notions I entertain of God muſt dire&t me. Now Theſe might convince a Man, that Purity and Sincerity, Juſtice ind Goodneſs, and the like, muſt needs pleaſe an Infinitely Per- & Being. But which way could an Imagination ſo foreign en- 'erinto Mens heads, as that God ſhold be pleaſed with the Blood ind Fat of Beaſts P Admit Theſe to have been the Chief of heir Subſtance, and devoted, becauſe as ſuch fitteſt for them to ºxpreſs their Acknowledgments by ; that as devoted and entirely, ſet apart to Holy Uſes, it could not without Sacrilege be parta. Sen of by Men, and that from hence the Cuſtom of Burning the Sacrifice took its Original: yet what ſhall we ſay to the Expia- Ory Oblations? And how could Men by any Strength of Rea. on comprehend the Poſſibility of a Vicarious Puniſhment; or hope that the Divine Juſtice ſhould be appeaſed by Offerings of this kind, and accept the Life of the Offender's Beaſt, inſtead of the forfeit Life of the Offender himſelf? Theſe things ſeem to be fºr out of the Way and Reach of human Diſcourſe; it is ſcarce, if at all, poſſible to conceive, what ſhould lead the Ge- nerality of Mankind to ſuch Conſequences, ſuch Ideas of God is Theſe: And I think little needs be ſaid to convince Men, that the Difference is vaſtly great between ſuch Religious Rites, *nd thoſe Moral Duties which have their foundation in the beſt Reaſon, and are all of them ſo coherent, ſo agreeable to ſober ind uncorrupted Nature, that the more we attend, and the clo- fºr we purſue them , the greater Diſcoveries we ſhall be ſure to make, and the more conſiſtent will be all our A&tions with the firſt, and moſt obvious Principles of the Mind. So that no Pa- tity of Argument can lye between theſe Two. ... The Force of this Réaſon is ſufficiently confeſs'd by the very Learned Aſſerter of that Other Opinion; nor can he deny, (as ſome, I think, with a deſign to make ſhort work of it, have ºne), that Éxpiatory Sacifices were offer'd before the Law: But then Theſe are ſuppoſed to proceed not from any poſitive Perſuaſion, or good affrance of obtaining Pardon by that means; but ſome Hope, that God would have regard to the Pious Inten- tion of the Perſon, and conſider and reſtore him upon that ac- Cºunt. Which Opinion Arnobius expoſes in ſuch a manner, as Plainly to ſhew, that it generally prevailed; and many Teſtimo- nies of Heithen Writers themſelves confeſs, that they looked 'Pon God to be capable of being mollified and won over, as Angry Men are, by Submiſſions, and Preſents, and other ſweet- ning Spencer, Lib. III. Cap, IV. Diſ. II. Seči. II. 3 16 Advertiſements. Hom. I. in Matth. ning Methods. All which Miſapprehenſions are conceived agreeable to the Darkneſs of Pagans, and the Simplicity of Earlier Ages. . Now with all due Reverence to the Authority of thoſe Great Men who urge it, I can by no means ſatisfy my ſelf with the Colour they give to theſe Arguments, from the rude unpoliſhed State of Men in the firſt Ages of the World. This, I know, is a Notion very agreeable to the Heathen Philoſophers and Poets, and Their Accounts of the Original of this World, the Progreſs of Knowledge, and Improvement of Mankind. And This might probably agree well enough with that Age when Abraham and his Seed were choſen out from the midſt of a dark and degenerate Race. But whether it agree with the Times of Abel and Noah, and the Antediluvian Fathers, will bear a great Diſpute. We fancy perhaps, that, before there was any Writ- ten Word, all was dark; but there is no Conſequence in That; nor will it follow, becauſe Arts and Profitable Inventions for the Afflirs of this Life, grew up with the World ; that Religion too was in its Infant Weakneſs and Ignorance in thoſe early Duys. , St. Chryſoſtom, I am ſure, gives a very different account of the Marter ; He ſays, the Communications of God's Will were more liberal and frequent then ; that Men lived in a ſort of familiar Acquaintance with him, and were perſonally inſtrućted in Matters neceſſºry and convenient ; much better enabled to worſhip and ſerve him acceptably; and becauſe they did not diſ. charge their Duty, and anſwer their Advantages, that he with- drew from this Friendly way of converſing with Mankind; and then to prevent the utter Loſs of Truth, by the Wickedneſs and Weakneſs of Men, a Written Word was judged neceſſary; and That put into Books, which the Corruption of Manners had made unſafe, and would not permit to continue clear and legible, in Men's hearts. In the mean while the Preference he manifeſtly gives both for Knowledge and Purity, to the Firſt Ages; and compares the Patriarchs at the beginning of the World in this Point, to the Apoſtles at the beginning of Chri. ftianity; as Parallels in the Advantages of Revelation, and Spi- ritual Wiſdom, infinitely ſuperior to the ſucceeding Times of the Church. And it is plain, from Scripture it ſelf, that Enoch, Noah, and other Perſons eminently pious, ſignally rewarded for | | | it, and inſpired with God's own Spirit, were ſome of thoſe early Sacrificers. Perſons to whoſe Chara&ter the pretended Sim- plicity and ignorance of the firſt Ages of the World, will very ill agree. - V. There is, I muſt own, a Great Prejudice againſt this Di- vine Inſtitution of Sacrifices, from the Book of Geneſs being fi: lent in the thing ; it being urged, as a mighty Improbability, that ſo conſiderable an Ordinance, and One which grew ſo gº. - neral, Advert iſements. neral, ſhould have no mention made of its firſt Command, and Eſtabliſhment; eſpecially, when ſo many things of ſeemingly leſs moment, are expreſly taken notice of ; and by that means ſtrengthen the Opinion, which attributes a matter acknowledged on all hands to be of Conſequence, to ſome Original, other than Immediately Divine. Now if we conſider the Deſign and Manner of the Book of Geneſis, it will by no means appear ſtrange to us, that many things ſhould be omitted; This being I conceive intended chiefly to give a ſhort Account of the Creation and Fall of Man, the Promiſe of a Redeemer, and to draw down the Line of Deſcent to the Chofen Seed, from whence our Saviour ſprung, and the People of the jews, the Figure of the Chriſtian Church, derived themſelves. So that Their Hiſtory and Religion being the prin- cipal Subjećt of the Five Books of Moſes, we find very little En- largement upon Particulars till after the Call of Abraham. For if we conſider the Three firſt Chapters containing the Creation and Fall of our firſt Parents; the VI", VIIth, VIIIth and IXth giving an Account of the Deluge, and Preſervation of Noah's Family; there remain but four more, before the Call of Abra- ham ; and in thoſe the Succeſſion from Adam to Noah, the Di- ſperſion of Noah's Poſterity for peopling the World, and the Occaſion of that Diſperſion, are contained, "Tis true, ſome things are inſerted which to Us ſeem of leſs moment; but, be- ſides that ſome account may in reaſon be given, why they ſhould be mentioned, the Holy Spirit, who indited theſe Books, was the beſt Judge of That. But it is alſo true, that ſeveral other things as conſiderable as This are omitted likewiſe, which we do not upon that ſcore disbelieve; ſuch particularly, as Thoſe of Times ſtated, and Aſſemblies convened for the Publick Wor- ſhip of God; and certainly it is as neceſſary and as important at leaſt to expect a Revelation for the Solemn Service of God, as for any particular Mode of Serving or Addreſſing to him. I have now laid before my Reader the State of the Caſe, as They who alledge Human Invention for Sacrifices have put it; and in the Anſwer to thoſe Arguments, have given ſome for the Contrary Opinion. That the Authorities on that Side are con- ſiderable, is acknowledged; but the General Senſe of the Chri- ſtian Church ſeems to incline to Divine Inſtitution. And the moſt reaſonable account of this Matter, if I apprehead it rightly, ſtands thus. That Almighty God inſtrućted Adam, how he would pleaſe to be worſhipped, and Aian trained his Family and Poſterity, both by Example and I ſtruction, in the ſame Solemn Methods of Serving and Addreſſicg : God. That from the Time of a Redeemer’s being promiſed, Expia- tory Sacrifices were both inſtituted, and practiſ-d; º as an in . . ilia- 3 18 Advertiſements. Intimation to Men of their own Guilt, and the final Deſtrućti- on they deſerved ; and partly as a Shadow and Prefiguration of that Vicarious Puniſhment, which God had promiſed to admit for the Sins of Men; in the Redemption of the World by the perfect Sacrifice of his Son. That as no Age of the World can be inſtanc'd in, when God did not afford Men ſome viſible Signs, and Sacraments, of his Favour, and the Covenant between Him and Them ; ſo the Ages before the Inſtitution of the jewiſh Law, (which abound- ed with very expreſſive and particular Significations of this kind) had Sacrifices for that purpoſe. - That the Heathen Sacrifices were not pure Inventions of Men, but Corruptions of a Divine Inſtitution. Which being propa- gated to all the Offſpring of Adam, was differently received, and depraved by the Uncertainty of Tradition, long Tra&t of Time, the Artifice of the Devil, and Mens own Vicious Affections. Of which whoever reads the Apologies for Chriſtianity, will find Proofs in abundance : and be convinced that the Pagan Idolatry was built originally upon the Worſhip of the true God, vitiated and perverted and miſapplied. For we muſt in reaſon be ſenſible, that the likelieſt, and moſt uſual way, by which the Devil prevails upon Men, is not by empty and groundleſs Imaginations, or Inventions perfectly new ; but by diſguiſing and mimicking the Truth, and raiſing erroneous and wicked Superſtrućtures upon a good and ſound Bottom. It is therefore, it ſeems at leaſt in my poor Opinion, moſt pro- bable, that the jewiſh Ceremonies were indeed adapted to the Egyptian and other Pagan Rites, which the Iſraelites had been acquainted with, and were not then in a Condition to be en- tirely weaned from. But withal, that thoſe Pagan Sacrifices were Corruptions of the old Patriarchal; not entirely mere In- ventions of their own, but Additions only, and Extravagant Ex- creſcencies of Error, to which the Truth and Poſitive Inſtitution of God firſt gave the hints and occaſions. For though it can very hardly be conceived how Sacrifices ſhould be of mere human Motion ; yet there is no difficulty in ſuppoſing, that the Thing once Inſtituted, and once Eſtabliſhed, might be abuſed, and de- praved, to very prodigious and abominable purpoſes. As it was, no doubt, very early in that univerſal degeneracy to Idola- try, from which it pleaſed God to reſcue Abraham and his Poſterity. One very Remarkable Circumſtance contributing to the ſtrength of this Opinion is that almoſt every where the Cere- monies in the Aśt of Oblation, ſeem to be very much alike; which is very Natural to an Exerciſe and Inſtitution derived down from One common Head ; and originally fixed by a Poſi- tive Command ; but ſcarce conceivable of an Invention merely Human ; Advertiſements. º Human; where Men in all likelyhood would have run into as great Diverſity, and thought themſelves as much at Liberty as they do in the Affairs of Common Life. But eſpecially, the Sa- crificing Beaſts by way of Atonement obtained univerſally, and the Imagination of Their Blood being neceſſary and effectual for Pardon. Which, I confeſs, if a Dićtate of Reaſon and Nature only, is certainly the ſtrangeſt, and moſt remote from any pre- ſent Conceptions we are able to form of the Dićtates of Nature, of Any that ever yet prevailed in the World. And therefore * This is ſcarce accountable for any other way, than from the Promiſe of a Redeemer and Sacrifice to come, which the Sacri- fices of Beaſts were in the mean while appointed to repreſent. That ſuch an Inſtitution agrees very well with all the Ends of Sacrifice, is not to be denied. For the Death of the Beaſt, though not perſonally felt by the Offender, would yet give him a full and very expreſſive Idea, of the fatal Conſequences of Sin; and the Acceptance of that Life, inſtead of his own which was forfeited, and by that A&t of Sacrificing acknowledged ob- noxious to Divine Juſtice, was a lively repreſentation of the Mercy of God. But ſtill the Apoſtles Argument is founded in Reaſon, and may be an Appeal to all Mankind, It is not poſſible, that the Blood of Bulls and of Goats ſhould take away Sim. And therefore not only Euſebius in his X*. Chap. of Demonſtrat. Evang. Lib. I. aſcribes this Worſhip to Divine Inſpiration, but Aquinar ſays, that before the Law Juſt Men were inſtrućted by an In- ward Inſtinét after what particular manner God would be Wor- ſhipped ; as they were afterwards under the Law by External Precepts. So Plato ſays, That no Mortal Capacity can Know or Determine what is fit to be done in Holy Matters, and there- fore forbids the Alteration of the Eſtabliſhed Rites and Sacrifices as Impious. And the Teſtimonies of St. Chryſºſtone and fiftin Mar- tyr, have been thought to mean, not ſo much, that all Sacrifice was a Dićtate of Nature, as that ſome Circumſtances relating to it were left to the Dićtates of Man's Reaſon. So that when God had taught Adam and his Poſterity, that they ſhould worſhip in their ſeveral Manners; and what he would pleaſe to accept ; The Manner, and Meaſure, and ſuch like conſiderations were left to Choice, and Reaſon, and Poſitive Laws. In ſhort, the Religion of our Hearts and Wills, our Prayers and Praiſes might be natural and the reſult of meer Reaſon : but for other external Significations of this, eſpecially any ſo foreign, as that of Sacrificing; Men were not likely, nor was it fit they ſhould venture, to do any thing of their own Heads.Nor was it probable they would attempt it, for fear of miſtakes, and ſuch indecent Expreſſions, as might be very diſhonourable to the God they Worſhipped ; and rather provoke his Juſtice by raſh and ſuper- ſtitious Affronts, than i, cline his Mercy by their indiſcreet in- tentioils ſ: Taylor's Dući or Du- bit. B. II. Chap. 3. N. 30. 310 Advertiſements. tentions to pleaſe him. And therefore, conſidering the Confuſion Adam was in after the Fall, and the Circumſtances of that time, it ſeems moſt agreeable to believe, that he waited God's dire&ti- ons, and was fully informed by Him in ſuch a Service, as might at once excite both the Fear and the Love of God; enforce the Offerer's Sorrow and Repentance, and increaſe his Faith and Hope. While my Thoughts were upon this Subjećt, it came into my mind, that poſſibly the Tradition of a Redeemer to come, and that God would one day reconcile himſelf to the World by the " Sacrifice of a Man, and his own Son: That this Tradition I ſay darkned, confounded, and perverted by the Increaſe of Idolatry, and the Cunning of the Devil, might be abuſed to the putting Men upon Humane Sacrifices, and particularly thoſe of their own Children. I know there are other accounts to be given of this matter; and I propoſe this as a meer Conjećture, not other- wiſe fit to trouble the Reader withal; but that, I believe, if ſtri& inquiry were made, it would be found . that moſt of the Hea- then Abominations in Divine Worſhip were ſome way or other at a diſtance, by Miſtike, Imperfeit Report, Perverſe Interpre- rations, or by ſome Cunning Stratagem of the Devil or other, fetched originally from the Revelations and Inſtitutions of the true Religion. And I cannot but think, that it would be great Service to the Truth, if the Falſhoods that have corrupted, and were ſet up in Oppoſition to it, could be well traced, and ſet in the beſt Light, which this diſtance will permit. But that muſt needs be a very laborious Undertaking, and, where a great deal will depend upon Probable Conjecture, will require a very Ju- dicious hand. I have thus given the Reader my rough Thoughts upon the Point of Sacrifices, omitting ſuch Proofs for the Opinion I in- cline to, as ſeem to me not concluſive, but not any that I am conſcious of, on the Other ſide. There is no danger in either Opinion, confidered in it ſelf, but ill Inſinuations may be raiſed from that of Humane Invention ; if Men from thence ſhall pre- tend to draw Conſequences to the Prejudice of Natural Religion; and argue either againſt the Certainty of, or the Regard due to it ; from an imagination, that Extravagances ſo wicked, ſo odd, or ſo barbarous as the Heathen Rites of Worſhip, and the Wild Superſitions and unbecoming Nortons of God, upon which they were grounded, reſulted from Humane Nature, and were the Product of Reaſon: Rather than the Horrible Depravations of a Supernatural Inſtitution, highly proper and ſignificant, ſer- viceable to excellent purpoſes, and adapted to thoſe Ages of the World. And in hope of preventing any Coº'equences of this kind it is, that I thought thºſe Renaiks might not be unſeaſona- lle. And for the Uſefulneſs, and flight which this Account of Sacrifices Advertiſements. Sacrifices brings with it, provided we will follow it in its Natti- ral Conſequences; how wiſe an Inſtitution, how reaſonable to be incorporated into the jewtſh Law, how providentially diſperſed over the whole World ; and how preparatory of the Dočtrine of the Redemption of Mankind, by prediſpoſing the Gentiles alſo to believe the Sacrifice of Chriſt, my Reader may, if he pleaſe, be informed to his great Satisfa&tion, by that Short but Excellent Account of this Matter, given by Dr. Williams, the now Reve- rend Biſhop of Chicheſter, in his Second Sermon at Mr. Boyle's Leôure for the Year 1695. II. After ſo long and particular Enlargement upon the Firſt of thoſe Things, wherein I endeavour to prevent any Miſtakes that may ariſe from this Paſſage; there will need but very little Addition to clear the Other. For if the Arguments for a Di- vine Inſtitution of Sacrifices caſt the Scale, the Buſineſs is already one to our hands: and if they be admitted of human Invention, yet according to all the Schemes of this Matterlaid down by the Aſſerters of it, Sacrificers at firſt were moved by Apprehenſions of God very different from that of his taking Delight in the Suf- ferings of his Creatures. For they Repreſent Sacrifices as the eff:{ts of Gratitude, a Mind impatient to make ſome ſort of Re- turn, and pay back ſuch Acknowledgments at leaſt of His Good- neſs who gave All, as the dedicating the Beſt of his Giftsto him could amount to. And accordingly, This Circumſtance of chu- ſing the Beſt for Sacrifice ſeems to have been as univerſally obſer- ved, as the Duty of Sacrificing it ſelf. This is the Reaſon al- ledged by ſome for ſlaying Beaſts, as being the Beſt of all their Subſtance; and upon the ſame account too thoſe kinds which were eſteemed beſt for Food. This perhaps was one Motive abuſed afterwards even to the introducing that Abomination of fictificing Men, and Children; Virgins and Firſt-born. And even in Expiatory Sacrifices, could theſe poſſibly have been in- vented by Men, yet 'tis plain the Perſuaſion of a Beaſt being ac- cepted as a Ranſom for the Owner, muſt include an Idea of Mercy and Condeſcenſion at leaſt in the Deity, which was con- . tent with ſuch a Compenſation. - It argued, I confeſ, very groſs Notions of God to ſuppoſe, that ſuch things could be Preſents fit for a Pure Spirit, and the Majeſty of Heaven and Earth, which every Superior among Men would diſdain and deteſt. But This grew by degrees, and the Other, of his being a Sanguinary Being delighted with the Fumes of Reaking Altars, and drinking the Blood of Goats, was owing to the Superſtition and Idolarly of later and degene; tite Times; and is a Thought, which Thoſe who firſt pračtiſed this way of worſhip, whether by Inſtruction, or their own mere Motion, were never ſuppoſed guilty of by any that have under- : took to confider the Nature and Original of the Patriarchal Sa- crifices. Y Nay, 32? Advertiſements. Page 125. Nay, I add too upon this occaſion, That the Notions men- tioned in this Chapter, which it is to be feared are but too com- monly entertained of Severities, and Satisfactions (as they are called) owe themſelves to the ſame Cauſes, and are the Genuine Extraćt of Hypocriſy, Superſtition, and formal Devotion. That Faſtings, and voluntary Mortifications are of excellent Uſe in Religion, no ſober Man ever doubted. They are Profitable in many Caſes, and in ſome Neceſſary. They aſſiſt us in conquer- ing our Appetites and Paſſions; and ſubdue the Man, by beating down the Outworks: They expreſs avery becoming Indignation againſt our ſelves, in the Exerciſe of Repentance; and are often- times inſtrumental in heightening and inflaming our Devotion: But that they are Good and Meritorious in themſelves, or any farther valuable than as they ſerve to promote our Improvement in ſome Virtues or Graces that are Subſtantially Good; eſpecially that God likes us the better merely becauſe we uſe our ſelves the worſe, is a very Fantaſtical and Erroneous Imagination : And ſuch as any Communion or Party of Men by Encouraging, do great Injury to the Honour of God, deceive the Souls of Peni- tents, and hinder the Eſſentials of Religion, which are Faith and Newneſs of Life. In ſhort, They expoſe Religion in gene- ral to the ſcorn of all thoſe, who ſee the Foppery and unreaſon- ableneſs of thoſe miſtaken Methods; and call the very founda- tions of it into Queſtion, by tempting ſuch to think, that it is all Invention and Trick, and Empty Senſleſs Formality. Advertiſement the Second. Book II. Chap. 5. Seá. 8. Monſieur Charron hath in this Section put togetherTwoObjetti- ons againſt the Divine Origine of Religion,and ſuch as, no doubt do it prejudice, in the Minds of Men, who do not attend to the Reaſons of things, and judge impartially. The Firſt concerns the Manner of Propagating Religion, and Man's firſt entrance into it. The Second, That want of Efficacy, which one would expect an Inſtitution coming immediately from God, muſt needs have upon the Lives and A&tions of Thoſe who have Embraced, and profeſs to be Governed by it. I. The Former of Theſe, is urged to be only a matter of Cu- om and Neceſſity, the Fate of a Man, rather than his Choice; who, if Adult, is brought over by Cuſtom and Multitudes; and if an Infant, is preſently initiated into the prevailing Per- ſuaſion of his Country, or his Family, and ſo continues all his Life long. Now * Advertiſements. 323 Now for Cuſtom, and Multitudes, and Example, it is very evident, This was much otherwiſe in he firſt Plantation of Re- ligion; that of the Chriſtian in particular. A Perſuaſion, which, it is manifeſt, came into the World with all poſſible diſ. advantages; and the Eſtabliſhment whereof was one of the moſt amazing Miracles, that ever was wrought ſince the Beginning of the World. For People had common Senſe then as well as now ; and all the Corruptions of Human Nature were equally power. ful. There was the ſame Arrogance and Vain Opinion of their own Wiſdom, to render the Myſteries which are acknowledged above the Comprehenſion of a Human Mind, offenſive to the Men of ſome Learning and more Vanity: The ſame ſenſual Appetites and Vicious Pračtices to hold out and ſtand at defiance, ; the Precepts of Chaſtity and Sobriety, Self-denial and ortification: The ſame Pride and Opinion of Worldly Gran- deur to raiſe their Indignation and Diſdain of a Crucified Suvi- our ; The ſame Love of the World and Tenderneſs for their Perſons to prevent any raſh Sacrificing of their Lives and Eſtates for a Perſecuted Faith, when nothing was promiſed in Reward but a very diſtant Happineſs after Death. And yet notwithſtand- ing prevail that Faith did; in deſpight of Human Oppoſition, and Intereſt ; and prevail it could not have done, by any other means, than the Almighty Power of its Author and Pro- te&tor, and the Aſtoniſhing Effe&ts which the Convišion of its Truth produced upon men's Conſciences. This certainly was Argument ſufficient, even to Demonſtration, that thoſe Words were not in any degree miſapplied, when put into the Mouth of Chriſtianity, and its Preachers; Not of Man, neither by Man, nor of any other Creature, but of God. - And ſhall it be eſteemed any Prejudice to this Religion, that Men do not ſtill lie under the #: Difficulties, in the Choice of it? When it hath made its own way triumphantly, and wearied out, or won over its Perſecutors, ſhall the Multitude of its Profeſſors, and the Peaceable and Eaſy Exerciſe of it be thought to derogate from its Authority ? Sure it is very unreaſonable, that Faith ſhould be thought of Divine Extraćt, no longer than while it bids Men embrace it at their Peril. The being handed down in Families is a plain and natural Effect of an Eſtabliſhed Principle. Parents could not have the Affection which becomes their Chara&er, did they not take all lawful and Commendable Methods of putting their Children into the ſame way to Heaven, which they truſt they are in themſelves. Eſpecially, if the Caſe lie between any other Perſuaſion, and Chriſtianity ; which we have reaſon to believe is the only poſſible Ordinary way thither. The entring Children early into Covenant with God is a very Profitable, and Charitable Cuſtom; what He himſelf not only admitted, but enjoined formerly ; and ſince He is much more Y 2 eminently 314 - - - Advertiſements. I Pet.III. 15. eminently the Father of the Chriſtians, than of the jewº, we have no reaſon to ſuſpect they ſhall be leſs favourably received, when as early dedicated to him. This gives Security, that they ſhall be taught, when their Years enable them to learn, how they ought to believe and ačt ; ſo that if their Religion after- wards be merely the effect of Cuſtom and Example, This is ut- terly beſide the Deſign of Thoſe early Initiations, where the Ex- preſs Contrary is poſitively indented for. If Men happen to be bred up in a wrong Perſuaſion, there is little, Queſtion to be made, but great and gracious Allowances will be made for that faſt hold, which the Prepoſſeſſions of Education have taken. But be they in the right, or in the wrong, it is every One's duty, ſo far as his Opportunities and Capacity will give him leave to examine and ſee, that he may have comfort, and be better eſta- bliſhed in the Truth; or elſe retraćt his Error: Where This is not done, it is a negle3, and far from the intent of Truth; for Truth will bear Enquiry, and the more nicely ſhe is look'd into, the better ſhe is lik'd, the more admired, and triumphs,and reigns more abſolute. St. Peter poſitively commands, that we ſhould be ready to give a Reaſon of the Hope that is in us; and though Men are more diſpoſed to conſider, when their Opinions are like to coſt them dear, yet the Reaſon of the Command is Univerſal, and by no means reſtrained to Times of Perſecution only. Every Man ſhould do his beſt to obey it, and every Perſuaſion ought to encourage it; and if any do not, but hide the Key of Know- ledge, either by detaining the Scriptures, or not leaving Men to the Free Uſe of Modeſt and Impartial Reaſon, Theſe are the Men, who are moſt contrary to St. Peter, and beſt deſerve the Cenſure of Monſieur charron in this Paſſage. II. The Second Infinuation againſt the Divine Authority of Religion, is taken from the Viſible Inefficacy of it upon Men's Lives; as if all that came from God muſt needs be effe&tual for reforming the World. Now. This, how popular and plauſible ſoever at firſt appearance, yet is an Argument of no Foundation or Strength at all. For the Short of the Matter lies here. Reli- gion never was intended to deſtroy Men's Nature, but only to mend it : to change Men indeed in their Affe&ions and Inclina- tions, but ſo as that this Change ſhould be wrought by them- ſelves. Hence it is, that though the Grace of God be Almighty, yet Man is not a proper Object for its Omnipotence to exert it ſelf upon. For ſhould he be forced even to his own Good, that Compulſion would not only take away the Merit of the Ağ, but the very Nature of the Perſon, whoſe very diſtinguiſhing Charaćter, is Choice and Freedom of Conſent. "And therefore God deals with us as he made us; he lets us want nothing, that We can enjoy the Benefit of, and continue Men; he inſtructs, ſuggeſts, perſuades, counſels, encourages, promiſes, threatens, - puts Advertiſements. 31; º puts opportunities into our hands, and gives us a power of uſing them; but it will depend upon our ſelves at laſt, whether theſ: ſhall have a good effect or not. We can do no good without Him ; but neither will He do it without Us, nor indeed, accord. ing to the preſent Scheme and Conſtitution of Things, is it at all conceivable how he can. So that the A&tions of Men not anſwering the Efficacy which might be expećted from the Reve- lation of an Almighty God, is no Argument againſt thoſe Prin. ciples coming from Him, which are not better obeyed ; becauſe this is not a Caſe for him to exert his Almighty Power in : And though he wrought many Miracles formerly for the Confirmati- on of the Truth by virtue of that power; yet we never find, that he ever uſed that power for the forcing a belief of thoſe Miracles; but Men were left to their own Conſideration and Liberty, what Interpretation they would make of them; and as they determined themſelves, Belief or more Obſtinate Infidelity was the Effect of it. " * - - Nor is it true, that Wicked Men do not believe Religion; It is but too ſure, that they endeavour as much as they can not to believe it, when Matters are come to that paſs, that the Belief. of it grows uneaſy to them. It is indeed confeſs'd, that our Perſuaſion is the very Spring upon which all our A&tions move, But then there muſt a diſtinëtion be made between the Habit and the A& of Faith. For a Man may entertain an Opinion, and yet do ſome things contrary to it, becauſe that Opinion may not in the inſtant of A&tion occur to him ; and then, as to all effect indeed, it is the ſame, as if he thought it not. Thus a Man may believe Chriſtianity, but through the Strength of Paſſion through the Surprize or Violence of a Temptation, through Raſhneſs or Incogitancy, Multitude and Intricacy of Buſineſs, In- ordinate Affection of the World,or the like, he may not attend to what he believes, or he may not conſider it ſufficiently, or not al- low the Future its due weight,when ſet againſt the Preſent. Now though ſuch a Perſon, as to all the purpoſes of doing well, be pro hic & nume, as an Infidel; yet there is a great difference be- tween Him in the general, and One who does not believe at all. This Man, though he does not ačt in conſiſtence with himſelf, hath yet a dormant Habit, which, when the Paroxyſm is off, the Temptation removed, the Paſſion abated, or the like, may by Recolle&tion, and Sober Senſe be awakened; and then it will at leaſt check him for what is paſt, and may (till he hath ſinned himſelf paſt feeling) be a conſiderable Reſtraint upon him. But the Other hath nothing to inform, nothing to controul him : And though a Man in ſleep may appear to the Standers by to be dead, yet we know what difference there is in the thing it ſelf. This I take to be a ſufficient Account of even good Men's ſin. ning often, and ſome Bad Men doing § very ſcandalouſly, and - Y 3 yet --a ----J 316 Advertiſements - yet retaining the Faith; which if purſued through all its Conſe- quences, and applied cloſely and warmly to their Conſciences, would ſhew them the abominable Contradićtion they live in to their own Minds, and make them quite another ſort of perſons. From hence I ſuppoſe the Reader will naturally draw to him- ſelf theſe following Refle&ions. 1. That Men are not wrought upon by Things as they are in themſelves, but by their own Apprehenſions of them. They att by the dićtates of their own Minds, and as they are perſuaded. It is not the Happineſs of Heaven, or the Miſery of Hell, that excites to any one Good, or affrights from any one Evil A&ion, in their own Nature; but the Idea, and as I conceive of them. And conſequently, in proportion as I deſire the One, and dread the Other, ſuch will my Care be to pračtiſe, or to decline thoſe .# to which the Promiſes and Threatnings of God are an- nexed. - 2. That to make this Perſuaſion effe?ual, it is neceſſary it Íhould be preſent to the Mind. For that which is not preſent at the time of A&ion, is to all effect for that time as if it were not. This ſhews the Neceſſity of Meditation, and much Thought upon the Principles of, and Motives to Religion; ſince Faith will not, cannot work, by barely being aſſented to ; but by being vigorouſly and lively impreſt upon the Conſcience, warm, and ready upon every new Aſſault. And this gives us a very Rational Account, how it is poſſible, and why it ſhould be com. mon, for a Man to entertain all the Principles of a true Faith, and upon Premeditation be able to ſay as much for it as is poſſi- ble; nay, to perſuade himſelf as well as others, that he is a ve ſincere Believer; and yet lead a Life very contrary to that Be. lief For this proceeds from his thinking a hearty Aſſent to the Truth of a Doctrine ſufficient; and it is ſo indeed,to denominate him a Profeſſor; whereas to make him a Good Man, that Aſſent fignifies little, unleſs it be followed, and frequently inculcated, ſo as to ſeaſon his Mind throughly, and upon all occaſions to be at hand, and vigorous and freſh ; for without Theſe qualities, it can never be a Principle of A&tion. 3. That conſequently the Inconſiſtence of Men's Lives with their Profeſſion, can be no juſt Objection againſt Religion ; be- cauſe the Fault plainly lies not in the Principles, but in Men's negle&t to improve them. And when we would be convinced of the Goodneſs of any Perſuaſion, we are to judge the Tree by its Fºuts; (not the Faith by the Prattices it produces ačtually in Men's Lives, as that Expreſſion is frequently miſapplied, but ) by the Good A&ions it would produce, if Men would let it have a due influence upon them, follow it as fir as it will carry them, and live up to what they profeſs. The Men who do other. wiſe, are very blameable, and lay a ſtumbling-block before the - - - weak, Advertiſements. 317 weak, by bringing diſhonour upon Religion, and tempting them to ſuſpećt its Power and Excellence; But it is only the Weak who ſtumble at it; for there is not, nor ever was in the Affairs of Religion, or of any other kind, any Scheme of Rules or Opi- nions, where all the perſons who made Profeſſion of them, atted in all points accordingly. And at this rate all manner of Good- neſs, and Virtue, Natural, as well as Acquired, and Revealed, muſt be queſtioned, and exploded; and the very firſt Dićtates of Human Nature will not eſcape the ſame Fate. Of ſuch Eternal Equity and Truth is that old Axiom, Fides non è Perſonis,ſed con- tra. And the Chriſtian Faith will ſufficiently clear its own Divine Original, if we will but give it free Courſe, and ſuffer it to draw us to a Reſemblance of that Excellence, which firſt Inſpired and taught it, Book II. Chap. XI. Seá. 10. - According to the Cuſtom of the Egyptians, &c. The Meaning of this Cuſtom is very often miſunderſtood, and miſapplied. For whereas the Bringing this Death's-head in to the Company at Publick Entertainments, is frequently look'd upon as done with a deſign to check the Exceſſes of Mirth, with this Melancholy, but never Unſeaſonable Refle&ion: Both Herodotus in his Eutcrpe, and Plutarch in his Traćt de Iſld. & Oftride, give a quite different Account of the Matter; and report it to have been done for the heightning of their Jollity; by conſidering, that their Time was but ſhort, and therefore they ought to make the beſt of it. This Emblem in effe&t ſpeaking that Maxim of the Epicure, Let us Eat and Drink, for to morrow we dye. Book II. Chap. XI. Seč. 18. Page 2.89. Although the Anſwers to theſe Pretences uſually alledged in favour of Self-murder be in a great meaſure taken off in the lat- ter part of the Sečtion; and the Determination at laſt be found and good ; yet in regard thoſe Returns are general, and do not reach every Particular; I will ſo far treſpaſs upon the Reader's Patience, as to run over this part of the Argument, Period by Period, as freſh Matter ariſes; and obſerve to him, what bath been, or may very reaſonably be replied upon each of the Ex. cuſes produced here, (for I rather call them Excuſes than Juſti- fications) to give Countenance to that Unnatural A&t of Self. murder. - - Firſt, It is urged that there are great Examples for it in all Story, and of Perſons of all rººm , particularly, thoſe of 4. Razia; 3.18 f JMd vertiſements. Cap. xxiii. contra 2. Epiſt. Gau- geºt, Razias and the Women under the Tyranny of Antiochus among the jaws ; and Pelagia and Sophronia among the Chriſtians; the Former drowning her ſelf to eſcape the Rudeneſs of the Sol- diers; the Latter ſtabbing her ſelf to get free from the Luft of Maxentita. Now here in the firſt place I obſerve by the way, That Exam- ple in General is a very inſufficient and deceitful Rule; nor can we always make any ſure Concluſions of the Lawfulneſs or Un- lawfulneſs of a Fa&t, by the Relation given of it. Becauſe many times the Thing is commended with regard to One Partor Circumſtance, and yet not thereby juſtified as to all the reſt : This, I ſay, when there is a Commendation poſitively added to it; but many, if not moſt, are barely related, and left for Us to interpret, without any Chara&er at all fixed upon them. Nay, I add farther, that the Circumſtances of Perſon, Time, and ſe— veral others of the like nature, are ſo infinitely different, that, as it is exceeding hard for Us, who are not perfe&tly acquainted with the Reaſons and Motives upon which others att, to paſs an exaët and true Judgment upon their A&tions; ſois it much more difficult to find Inſtances, where Their Circumſtances and Ours Íhall agree ſo nicely and in every Particular,that we ſhall deſerve juſt the ſame Commendation, or Blame, which they did, by imi- tating their Proceedings. Thus much was not amiſs to be hinted, concerning the Fallacy of Examples in general, and how very unfit they are to be made a Rule for the Behaviour of other People. I ſhall now touch briefly, upon each of the Particulars above-mentioned. As for That of Razias. It is indeed delivered after ſuch a man- ner, as ſeems to carry a Commendation with it, but this is only a Commendation of his Valour, and Heroick Greatneſs of Soul; not of the Virtue of the A&tion, or any thing which might ren- der it Imitable by others. St. Auguſtine's Refle&tion upon it is, Diäum eſt quodelegerit mobiliter mori; meliºs vellet humiliter, ſcenim utiliter Illis autem verbis hiſtoria Gentium laudare conſuevit, ſed virus forte hujus ſeculi, non Martyres Chriſti. His Charačer (ſays he ) is, That he choſe to dye Nobly; it had been much better if the Commendation had been, that he choſe to dye Modeftly and Humbly; for This had been a profitable way of Dying. But thoſe are Pompous Terms, uſual in Prophane Story, ſuch as are counted an Honour to the Men of this World, but not to Martyrs for chrift. The Account in the Maccabees expreſſes his reſolute Deteſtation of Idolatry, and that is commendable; but certainly had he been taken, and ſuf. fered Torments and Death under Nicanor, his Praiſe had been much more juſt, and his Charaćter clear and indiſputable. For even Perſecution it ſelf is not a Reaſon ſufficient for our making this Eſcape; according to that of St. Jerome in his Comment upon Jonah: Nºg eſt noſtrºm Morten, arripers, ſedillaram ab aliji . - . . --- libentºr l > Advertiſements. 3.19 likenter excipire. Unde & in perſecutionibus non liest propriá perire manu. It is not our buſineſ to bring death upon our ſºver, but tº re- ceive it willingly, when inflićfed by Others ; and for this Reaſon even the Caſe of Perſecution will not warrant a Man's dying by his own hand. But in truth, Razias his Caſe, as the Hiſtorian deſcribes it, was none of this; for his Account at the 43° Verſe is very Remarkable. He fell upon his ſword, cºuſing rather to dye manfully, than to come into the hands of the wicked, to be abuſed otherwiſ, than beſeemed his Noble Birth. So that Razia, at this rate was what the World vainly calls a Man of Honour, and his Life was ſcrificed to that Principle : Had he done this A&t to avoid offend- ing God, it had had a fairer, Pretence at leaſt, though nei- ther would That have excuſed it ; but to kill himſelf for fear of Indignities, and Affronts not fit for a Man of his Quality to ſub- mit to ; this was far from a Rehgious Principle ; and we cannot wonder that the Commendation it receives hath given ſo ſtrong a Prejudice to the Church againſt the Book of Maccabees, as not to admit it into their Canon of Scripture. I add too upon this occaſion, that ſome have thought this whole matter a Fićtion; and I confeſs the Circumſtances are very Odd and Romantick; That a Man ſhould fall upon his Sword firſt; then leap down from 2 Mac. xiv. 37, Kºre. Spanhem. de Author. Lib. Ape- a Wall into the midſt of his Enemies; That they ſhould make way cryph. in for him, where he fell among the thickeſt of them; that he ſhould? riſe up again in anger, but withal in ſuch a Condition, that his blood guſhed out like Spouts of Water, and his Wounds were very grie- vous; but he ran through the midſt of the throng notwithſtanding, and ſtanding upon a ſteep rock, When his blood was now quite gone, he pluck'd out his bowels, tºok them in both his hands, caft them upon the Crowd; and yet for all this, his Senſes it ſeems were not loſt at the laſt Gaſp, but after all thoſe wonderful Exploits this was not the leaſt wonderful, that he ſhould have the Uſe of his Un- derſtanding ſo perfett, as to call upon God to reſtore him thoſe Bowels again; and ſo dye. This I thought not amiſs to hint; and let them look both to the Truth of the Story, and the Ju- ſtice of the Commendation, who have entitled theſe Books to an equal Authority with the Scriptures of the Old and New Te- ſtament. - - º That Inſtance of the Women under the Tyrºnny of Antiochus, I do not underſtand, for if it refer to thoſe mentioned, 2 Macc. VI. 10. they ſeem to have been thrown headlong from the Wall, by the hands of Executioners. But if they had dong it themſelves, their Caſe had been ſomewhat more Pitiable, but not more Imitable, than that of Razias. Thoſe of Pelagia and Sºphronia are indeed extolled, but yet St. Jerom, who in one place makes the preſerving of Chaſtity an Exception, and the only reſerved Caſe from what I quoted out Diſp. Then!. V. 4 I . 4. 3. 44. 45. 46. of 33 o Advertiſements. of him juſt now againſt Dying by one's own hand in Perſécu- Epift. ad tions; ſays in another place without exception, That God re- Marc. ceives no Souls who come without his orders. Deus non recipit Animat, qua ſe molente exierunt à corpore... And whether this Caſe of Theirs was a Call, notwithſtanding the Advocates and Applauſes they have found, is greatly to be queſtioned. For what is the Chaſtity God requires? Is it not that of the Mind? Could not God have reſtrained even thoſe laſcivious Intentions 2 Does not Euſebius in the very ſame Chapter, wherein he relates this A& of Sophronia Euſeb, E.- delivering her ſelf from Maxentius, particularly tell of a Chriſtian cleſ. Hiſt. Ladyat Alexandria, who not being any way to be conquered by E"viri. Maximin, he would not ſo much as Kill herfor her obſtimacy, nor Ch. xiv. indeed Force her Perſon, but in the Conflićt of Rage and Luſt, at laſt only Confiſcated her Goods, and ſent her into Baniſhment? But ſuppoſing God had permitted the foul A&; yet ſo long as the Mind was unblemiſhed, here had been no Guilt, but rather a double Martyrdom. If you ſay, they might poſſibly ſuſpett, that they ſhould in the Commiſſion of the Faët,have been polluted with ſinful Inclinations. , 'Tis eaſy to Anſwer, That this is but a Fear, but a bare Poſſibility; and if an A&t be, Otherwiſe, and in the general, Unlawful, the bare avoiding a poſſible Sin, can- not make it lawful to break a Command, and by going againſt 1.Cop, X. God and Nature, commit and chuſe a certain Sin. He has pro- 13. miſed, That he will not ſuffer his Servants to be tempted, above that 2 Cor.XII, they are able, and declared that our Weakneſs can never be ſo great, but that his grace is ſufficient fºr us; with many other gracious Promiſes, which it is a great fault in us to diſtruſt, even in our greateſt Straits and Neceſſities. ...And to deliver our ſelves by * Methods, contrary to his Laws, is to diſtruſt them, for we are to expect the Aſſiſtance of his Grace, and the Protećtion of his Providence in the uſe of thoſe Means, and obſervance of thoſe Rules he hath given us. And therefore icannot conceive how the fear of falling into Sin only, can poſſibly render that A&ion Lawful, which otherwiſe, and generally ſpeaking, is it ſelf a Sin and Unlawful. Methinks therefore we ſhould do well in this Caſe to diſtinguiſh with our Saviour in the Parable of the Unjuſt Steward; and as he commended the Wiſdom of that Man, without approving his Injuſtice; ſo we may allow all poſſible Praiſe to the Gallantry, and Conſtancy of theſe Female R. ; without allowing, that the Courſe they took to preſerve * 1: their Virtue, was ſtrićtly regular and good. And thus St. Chry- * 2° ſoftom ſeems to have done, who, notwithſtanding the great En- ** **, comium given of Pelagia in one place, yet ſpeaks of this A& ***** of dying by one's own hand in very ſevere Terms in another; **C* and declares without exception, that the Chriſtians had all ſuch ** Perſons in abhorrence ; and that they were more guilty before ** 14 God than any other murderers, And ſome of thoſe intº Will Advertiſements . 331 . . : - which were thought hard to condemn, the Vindicators have not well known bow to acquit, otherwiſe than by a preſumption of a particularlmpulſe of God, which was for that Time and A&ti- on a Diſpenſation to the General Law. So St. Auguſtin of Sampſon, Spiritus latenter hoc iuſtrat, qui per illum miracula faciebat. The ſame spirit which wrought Miracles by him, gave him a Secret Cºmmand to do this thing. And Lipſius ſpeaking of theſe very Women ſays, Monitum aut 7uffo Dei hic quoque preſumenda'; That a Command, or at leaſt ſome Inſtinét and Dire&ion from God, is to be preſumed in their Caſe, as well as Sampſon's ; and he had St. Auguſtin's own Authority, he ſays, for this preſumpti- on. All which, when duly conſidered, as it will not warrant us to cenſure theſe Perſons as to their Eternal State, ſo neither will it warrant our Imitating ſuch A&ions, or arguing from thence in defence of ſuch Behaviour, or for the Extenuating the Sin of Self-murther. For whatever they might be in Them: ſºlves, ’tis ſure they are no Pattern to Us; and if God ſee fit to Allow, or the Church to Commend their Zeal, it will ſtill be- come us to obſerve, and beware of the Irregularities of it. The Examples which follow of Cities, deſtroying themſelves rather than they would lie at the Mercy of the Conquerors, whatever appearance they may have of Fortitude and Gahantry, yet as to the point of Conſcience, and Lawfulneſs, they are certainly blameable, and fall under the ſame Cenſure, which is afterwards given of Cato, and others. Page 194. N. 3, 4. The Cuſtom of Marſeiller, and the Iſle of Ced, where Perſons willing to Dye made no ſcruple of doing it, having firſt obtain. ed the Judgment and Approbation of the Senate, and by Poiſon kept on purpoſe, and prepared at the Publick Charge, is only a Permiſſion and Allowance, and does by no means take off the Lip. Ma- mudac. ad Philoſ. Stoic. Cap. XXIII. Paler. Maxim. Lib. II. Cap. VI. F. 7, 8. Guilt and Injuſtice of making ourſelves away; except only in that ſingle Point, that here the Publick is not injured, having expreſly conſented to the loſs of that Member. But in all other reſpects the Fa& was Wicked and Abominable, and is reported to have had no other foundation, than Afflićtion, or Extreme old Age, or in general a Wearineſs of Life. Nor will the next Argument hold, concerning the Deſire of Death; for ſuppoſing, that whatſoever a Man is allowed to de- ſire, he is likewiſe allowed to procure to himſelf (which yet is not univerſally true) yet this Deſire it ſelf is faulty, when it, grows into Impatience, and is not content to wait God's me- thods, and God's leiſure. And there is great difference between meeting Death gladly, and running into it; between receiving our Releaſe with Satisfa&tion, and breaking Priſon. So far therefore as this Deſire is conſiſtent with Patience, and Reſigna- tion to the Divine Will, ſo far it is truly Magnanimous and Commendable, and no farther, T o 33? Advertiſements. To that Queſtion, What Law does this offend againſt, it is eaſy to anſwer, Againſt the Laws of God, and of Nature, againſt the Condition of Mankind, againſt our Duty to the Pub. lick; againſt the Sixth Commandment in particular, which no more argues us Guiltleſs when we Kill our Selves, becauſe chiefly deſigned to reſtrain us from Killing Others; than it can be proved from the Seventh, that we do not Sin againſt our own Bo. dies, when we Invade another's Bed. The Love of our ſelves is propoſed as the ſtandard of our Love to others; and the Ruſe muſt be ſuppoſed as perfest at leaſt, as the thing to be re. gulated by it. If there be no Prohibition againſt this in expreſ; words, it was becauſe none was thought needful ; and ſure it is no excuſe to ſay, That no Law is violated in Terms, When the Caſe was ſuch as needed no Law. As to the other part of the Argument, That Men may diſpoſe of themſelves as they pleaſe, and a willing Perſon can receive no Injury; it ſuppoſes an Abſolute Right to diſpoſe of our ſelves, ſuch as no Creature hath with reſpect to God and Providence, and no Man can have with regard to the ſeveral Relations and Dependencies in which he is engaged. - And if ſo little can be ſaid for this Horrid Fa&t, when the moſt favourable Caſes are put ; How deteſtable and impious muſt it needs be, when Diſgrace, or Poverty, Diſp- pointments and Croſſes, Raging Paſſions, and Repining at Pro. vidence, prevail with Men to commit it? For theſe are ſuch Motives as no body ever undertook to juſtify, and the Stoicks themſelves, who went the fartheſt in this matter, yet ſtopp'd fhort of theſe, and, to ſpeak the Truth, even wavered in all the reſt. A more full account whereof I refer my Reader for to . Lipſii Manuduc. ad Stoic. Philoſoph. Lib. III. Cap. XXIII, XXIV. and for a larger diſcuſſion of this whole matter, to Spanhem, Diſput. Theolog De Lib. Apocryph. Authoritate. Diſp. XIII, XīV. and Biſhop Taylor, Duffer Dubitant. Book III. Chap. 2. Rule 3. From all which compared, St. Auguſtin's determination I doubt not will ſeem moſt reaſonable; His exceptis, quo: vel Lex juña, vil ipſ. Fon, juſlitia Deta jubet occidi; quiſquis Hominem, velfeipſum, vel quemlibet occiderit,Homicidijcrimine innešitur. Thoſe only excepted, whom either a juſt Law, or God himſelf, who is the Fountain of ai juſtice ſhall command to put to Death; whoſoever ſhall kid any perſºn, be it himſelf, ºr any other Man, he become; thereby guilty of Murther; and is anſwerable fºr his Blood. . - * : * : *- * , - . . 3. 1, .º. , " ' nº ºf . - -t: 0. . . . . . . . . . . ºi...º - - O F * - - - - - * * * f 333 Of W I S D O M. The Third B O O K. In which, Particular Rules are laid down, and Tireétions for the ſeveral Parts and Offices of Wiſdom, branched out under Four General Heads, as they have relation, and are reducible, to the Four Cardinal Virtues, -- The P. R. E. F. A C E. Oº Deſign in this Laſt Part of the preſent Treatiſe, being to give the Reader the mºſt particular Inſtrućti- ons we can poſſibly, and ſo to follow and compleat the General Rules of Wiſdom, touched upon in the Book foregoing; the moſt Convenient and Methodical way of proceeding ſeemed to me, to range all I have to ſay under the Four great Moral Wirtues; of Prudence, Juſtice, Fortitude, and Temperance: Since theſe are of a comprehenſion ſo large, that it is almoſt impoſſible to inſtance in any Duty of Morality or Practical Re- Iigion, which is not directly contained, or may very fairly be re- ... within the compaſs of them. Prudence ſupplies the place of a Direáor and Governor; it inſtrućis Us in other Virtues, and is the Guide of our Life, and all the Attions of it ; though indeed it be more peculiarly concerned in matters of Dealing, and good Condući, and its firići, proper Notion is Dexterity 334 Of Wiſdom. Book III. I. Its Excel- dence. 2. Definition. 'Tis Uni- verſal. Dexterity in the Management of Buſineſs. Now, as This re- gards Aëtions, ſo Juſtic, which is the next, ſº chiefly con- erned about Perſºns; for the Province of Juſtice #, to rem- der to every Man his due. Fortitude and Temperance have reſpect to the Events of Human Life; the Proſperous and Ad- verſe, ſuch as move our Paſſions, and are matter of 30y or Grief, of Pleaſure or Pain to us... Now it is plain, that theſe Three, Perſons, and Aëtions, and Contingencies, extend to all the parts of Human Life; and our Condition and Dealings in the twºrld cannot poſſibly oblige us to be converſant with, or employd about anything whatſoever, which is not comprehended tunder One or Other of theſe Conſiderations. C H A P. I. of Prudence in general. TH: is great Reaſon, why Prudence ſhould have the firſt and moſt honourable place alotted to it; becauſe it is really the Queen of Virtues; the general Superinten- dent, that preſides over, and gives directions to all the Reſt. Where this is wanting, there can be noſuch thing as Good- neſs or Beauty, Propriety or Decency. . It is the very Salt of Life, the Luftre and Ornament of all our Aétions; That which recommends them to the Eye, and gives them that Seaſoning and Reliſh which is neceſſary; 'Tis the Square and Rule, by which all our Affairs ought to be meaſured and adjuſted ; and, in one Word, This is the Art of Aëting and Living, as the Science of Phyſick is the Art of Health. Prudence conſiſts in the Knowledge and the Choice of thoſe things, which it concerns us to deſire or to decline: It is a juſt and true Valuation firſt, and then a picking and culling out the beſt: It is the Eye that ſees every thing, and conducts our Motions and Steps accordingly. The Parts or Offices of it are Three, and theſe all natu- rally conſequent, and in order after one another. The Firſt is Conſulting and Deliberating well; the Second, Judg- ing and Reſolving well; the Third, Managing and Exe- cuting thoſe Reſolutions well. - - It is very deſervedly eſteemed an Univerſal Virtue; be- cauſe of a Comprehenſion ſo general, ſo vaſt, that allman- net Ch. 1. Of Prudence in general. 335 ner of A&tions and Accidents belonging to Humane Life are within its Extent and Juriſdiction; and This, not only confidering them in the groſs, but each of them ſingly and inJ. ar; So that This is as infinite, as all thoſe Indi- viduals put together. You cannot wonder, if the next Property I aſſign to it be that of Difficult; the infinite Compaſs I have already mentioned muſt needs make it ſo: For Particulars, as they cannot be poſitively numbred, ſo they cannot be fully underſtood. It is a ſtanding Rule, * That whatever is infi- mite, exceeds the Bounds of Wiſdom. But that which adds }. more to the Hardſhip, is the great Uncertainty and nconſtancy of Human Affairs; which is ſtill rendred more intricate and unaccountable, by the inexpreſſible Wa- riety of Accidents, Circumſtances, Appurtenances, Depen- dencies, and Conſequences; the Difference of Times, and Places, and Perſons. And each of theſe is of ſo confidera- ble Importance, that the Change of one ſingle Circum- ſtance, even ſuch as may ſeem leaſt and of no account, produces a very great Alteration, and ſets quite another Face upon the whole Matter. This Difficulty is likewiſe greater and more evident, upon account of the Office, in which this Virtue is employ'd ; which conſiſts in mu- ſtering together Contraries, and then tempering them in juſt proportions with one another, ſo as to qualifie the whole at laſt, in the beſt manner the Caſe will admit. Another part of this Office, is Diſtinguiſhing aright be- tween things that are like, and making a wiſe Choice by diſcerning Real from Seeming Good, and preferring a Greater to a Leſs of the ſame Kind. Now all theſe things are puzzling, and full of Confuſion; for Contrariety and Reſemblance both agree in this, that either of them is a great Impediment, and creates Doubt and Irreſolution. And, as the Executive Part of Prudence is exceeding difficult, ſo the Diſcerning part is ſubject to great Obſcu- rity; by reaſon the firſt Cauſes and Springs of Things, rom whence they ariſe, and by which they are moved and carry'd on, are ſecret and unknown ; and, like the Seeds and Roots of Plants, lie deep in the Ground, and far out of fight; ſo deep, that Human Nature cannot dive to the bottom of them ; and ſome of them ſo myſterious "Si qua finiri non poſſant, extra ſapientiam fünt. P 2 IOO, 4- Difficult. Obſcure. 336 Of Wiſdom. Book III. too, that it is as criminal to enquire into them, as it is impoſſible to ſatisfie our ſelves by ſuch Enquiry. * Pro- vidence hath thought fit to conceal the Sceds of theſe things; and it often happens, that the Cauſes of Good and Bad Ef- fests lie hid, and diſguiſe themſelves under very different Ap- pearances. And beſides all this, there is that ſtrange Turn of Chance, that unaccountable Fatality, (call it what you pleaſe) that Supreme, Secret, Unknown Power, which always maintains its Authority, and gives the finiſhing ſtroke, in deſpight of all the propereſt Methods, and wiſeſt Precautions we can uſe. From hence it comes to paſs, that the beſt-laid Deſigns, and moſt regular Proceedings, are very frequently moſt unfortunate in the Event. The very ſame Courſe taken by One Man ſucceeds accord- ing to his heart's Deſire; and with Another croſſes all his Expectations; and yet the Caſe to all Human ap- pearance is the ſame in both, and no reaſon can be given for ſuch contrary Iſſues. Nay, the ſame Man found thoſe very Methods ſucceſsful yeſterday, which, when he tries again to day, baffle all his Deſigns and Dependencies; and he who was a Winner but juſt now, plays the ſame Game over twice, and the ſecond time iſ: all. This Lottery of Fortune gave juſt occaſion for that received Rule, That no Man's Counſel, or Capacity, can be right- ly meaſured by his Succeſs. And He was certainly in the right, who told ſome of his Friends, that ſtood ama- zed at his ill Fortune, when they obſerved a more than common Wiſdom in all his Diſcourſe and Behaviour: “Look you, Gentlemen, this does not mortifie me at all ; ‘‘I am Maſter of my Methods, and capable of judging “what is proper and convenient; but Events are what no “Man alive can govern, or inſure to himſelf:” This is Fortune's doing, which ſeems to take a kind of envious Joy, in defeating our ſubtleſt Projects, and diverts her ſelf with our Diſappointments; She in an inſtant blaſts our Hopes, and overturns the moſt regular Schemes, which have coſt the Study, and Care of many Years to draw and deſign; and when all the matter is duly conſider'd and reſolv'd ; when we have advanced ſo far, that no- thing remains but the laſt Act ; when all is brought * Occultat eorum ſemina Deus, & plerungue bondrum ma- Jorumque cauſa ſub diverſa ſpecie latent. - * - to Ch. 1. Of Prudence in gºril - 337 ! to Bear, (as we call it) ſhe nails up all our Cannon, and puts a full ſtop to all the Execution wéintended. And in truth, This is the only way Fortune takes to make her ſelf great, and maintain her Credit in the World; thus ſhe exerts her Power over the Affairs of Humane Liſé; or, to ſpeak more truly, and in language more befitting the mouth of Chriſti- ans, 'Tis Thus, that Providence takes down our Pride and mortifies our Preſumption: Fools cannot be made Wiſe by Chance and of a ſudden; but then, to check the Vanity of thoſe who have the advantage in Parts, They are frequently. ſºcceſsful, even to a degree that may provoke the Envy of Virtue and Wiſdom it ſelf. Accordingly we may often ob- ſerve, that Perſons of very indifferent Capacities, and ſmall Attainments, have been able to accompliſh vaſt Undertakings, both publick and private; while others of more Maſterly Judgments have been defeated in matters of leſs difficulty. From all which Reflections my Reader plainly perceives, that Prudence is a boundleſs and a bottomleſs Sea; never to be limited by poſitive Preceps, or reduced to certain and ſtanding Rules; becauſe the Subject it is concerned with is fickle and inconſtant, like the Sea too; and all our Meaſures muſt be changed, all are liable to be broke, as oft as the Winds change. One croſs Blaſt blows us back again, or daſhes us to pieces upon the Rocks ; and neither the beſt Weſſel, nor the beſt Pilot can be proof againſt this Streſs of Weather. All then, that Prudence can engage for, is to be circumſpect, and conſider every Circumſtance in the ſeve- ſal lights it is capable of ; but ſtill the moſt diſcerning Man is in the Clouds; The greateſt Judgment and Application finds all its Endeavours frivolous and vain, and that, when he thought he ſaw all things clearly, he was all the while grop- ing, and blundering in the dark. And yet, notwithſtanding we cannot arrive to a command- 6. ing and infallible Certainty, this Virtue muſt be acknow- Neceſſary. lºdged of exceeding great weight, and abſolute Neceſſity. For thus much is her juſt due ; that what is poſſible to be effected muſt be compaſs'd by her aſſiſtance ; that though ſhe cannot do All, ſhe can do a great deal ; and that, how- ever Men are not conſtantly ſucceſsful with her, yet with- out her all their Attempts, are frivolous and perfectly infig- nificant. Not only Riches, but Power, and Opportunitics, and Strength for Action, are impotent and vain, if deſtitute of Wiſdom to uſe them. - Z - * Rſ. 338 Of Wiſdom. Book III. * Rºſh Force by its own weight muſt fall: But prudent Strength will ſtill prevail, For ſuch the Gods affſ; and bleſs. f One good Head is better than a great many Hands. ... Many things that Nature hath made intricate and difficult, are made eaſie and very feaſible by good Confideration and Advice. Nor does what I urged in the former Paragraph at all invalidate the Truth of theſe Obſervations; becauſe, though Prudence be not the never-failing Cauſe, yet it is the uſual Cauſe of Suc- ceſs. God does not always proſper Mens wiſeſt Projects; To convince us, that the World is not govern'd without him: But he for the moſt part proſpers fit and proper means, to encourage our Induſtry, and as a proof, that the World is go- verned regularly by him. Now That, which principally re- quires Our Prudence, is, that we have to do with Men, and the corrupt Diſpoſition of the Perſons we deal with, their perverſe unmanageable Temper, makes Addreſs neceſſary in all our Tranſactions. For of all Creatures in the Univerſe, there is not any ſo hard to be ſubdued and brought to com- pliance, as Mankind ; * They who cannot bear ſo much as Equi- ty, and Neighbours fare, muſt needs be much leſs contented with Subjećion and Slavery. And thefore nothing leſs than great Art and Induſtry is ſufficient to reduce and keep them in order. For though we are always diſpoſed to mutiny a- gainſt them that are in any reſpect our Superiors, and to fall foul upon People of all Conditions; yet we never do it with ſo much Zeal, and ſuch eager Malice, as when we make Head againſt thoſe who pretend to Authority and Dominion over us. Now Prudence is the knack of managing Mankind, and keeping this Factious Principle under; a ſlack and gentle Rein, by which the Skilful Rider keeps this Skittiſh Horſe in the Road, and Ring of Obedience. - Now, although Nature have implanted this, as well as o- ther Virtues in us, and more or leſs, in proportion to every Man's Capacity and Parts; and, though it be from thoſe Original Seeds, that Prudence takes its beginning ; yet is * Vis conſili expers mole ruit ſuá, &c. Hor. Lib. 3. Od. 4. f Mens una ſapiens plurium vincit manus. - ... Multa, quae naturâ impedita ſunt, conſilio expediuntur. Liv. * Impatiens acqui, nedum ſervitutis. Senec, de Clement. hi IIllS Chap. 2. Of Prudence in general. 339 this more acquired, more learned and improved, more the Effect of Study and Application of Thought, than any other Virtue whatſoever. And this Acquiſition is in ſome meaſure the Fruit of wiſe Precepts, and good Advice; which we commonly call the Theory or Speculative Part of Pru- dence; but the beſt and Principal Inſtrument and Help toward it, is Experience, ( though this require much more Time, and Pains) which is term'd therefore the Practical Part. And This again is of Two ſorts. The One truly and properly ſo, becauſe it is Perſonal, learnt by what happens to, or is done by our own ſelves; ariſing from Obſervations of our own making ; and to This in ſtrict ſpeaking the Name of Experience is appropriated ; The Other is not our own, but the reſult of other Peoples Judgment or Practice ; and ſuch is Hiſtory, which informs us by Hearſay and Reading. Now our own Proper Experience is much the firmer, more aſſurd, and what may with better reaſon be depended up- on ; for Uſe, as Pliny ſays, is the beſt Maſler, the Author and Teacher of all Arts and Sciences; the perfecteſt, though the moſt tedious and expenſive way of learning *; it is the re- ſult of many Years and Gray Hairs, exceeding hard to be maſtered, very laborious, and very rare. The Knowledge of Hiſtory, as it is leſs ſatisfactory and aſſured, ſo is it like- wiſe more eaſie, more frequently to be met with, more cb- vious and in common to all ſorts of People. A Man indeed is more reſolute and confident, when he learns Wiſdom at his own Coſt ; but it is much eaſier and cheaper to grow wiſe at the Expence of other People. And from theſe Two, Ex- perience properly ſo call d, and Hiſtorical, Prudence is de- riv'd ; according to that common Saying, t Experience is my Father, and Memory my Mother ; or rather Hjlory, which is the Life and Soul of Memory. Now Prudence may, and in order to the giving us a clear Notion of the thing, 'tis neceſſary it ſhould, be diſtinguiſhed in ſeveral Reſpects; both with regard to the Perſons, con- cern'd in the uſe of it, and the Affairs, about which it is em- ployed. As to the Perſons, we are to obſerve, That there is firſt That which we may call private Prudence; and that is either ſolitary and individual, wherein a Mans ſingle Per- -- *—Seris venit Uſus ab Annis. + Uſus me genuit, peperit Memoria, Seu memoriz anima & vita Hiſtoria. Z 2. ſon 34o Of Wiſdom. Book III. ſon only is concern'd ; this is ſomething ſo low and narrow, that it ſcarce deſerves the noble Title of Prudence ; or elſe it is Social and Domeſtick, confin'd to ſome ſmall Company, and leſſer Societies ; and then there is Secondly, Publick Pru- dence, which is commonly known by the Name of Policy, This is the more Sublime, more Excellent and Uſeful, and more difficult to be attained ; and to This it is, that all thoſe lofty Characters and large Commendations in the beginning of this Chapter do of right belong ; which is again ſubdi- vided according to the different Subjects and Occaſions that call for it, into Civil, and Military Prudence. With regard to the Affairs it is converſant about, Theſe are of two kinds; Some Ordinary and Eaſie; Others Dif- ficult and Uncommon. There are alſo ſeveral Contingen- cies, by the interpoſition of which ſome new difficulties ſpring up, which were not in the nature of the things ; and conſe- quently doubts and perplexities not foreſeen at the firſt ſetting out ; and accordingly that Prudence, whoſe buſineſs it is to manage all theſe, may be termed either Ordinary, when it proceeds in the plain eaſie way, and governs its ſelf by known Rules, eſtabliſhed Laws, and Cuſtoms in com- mon Uſe ; or elſe Extraordinary, when it is obliged to go out of the beaten Road, and have recourſe to difficult Stra- tagems, and unuſual Mcthods. There is ſtill one Diſtinction more behind, which extends both to the Perſons, and to the Affairs; or, as the Schools ſpeak, the Subječt and the Object of this Prudence. But it is ſuch a one, as regards not ſo much the ſeveral Kinds, as the different Degrees of this Virtue. I mean that Prudence, which is truly and properly a Man's Own, and gives him the Denomination of Wiſe; when one acts upon his own Judgment, and trades with his own Stock; the O- ther a Borrowed and Precarious Prudence, when we follow the Advice of others. And thus it is, that all Philoſophers agree in allowing two ſorts of Wiſe Men. The Firſt and Higheſt rank, are thoſe, who walk by their own Light, that penetrate and ſee through all Difficulties, and always contrive Remedies and Expedients, by the force of their own Judg- ment, and happy Forecaſt. But where ſhall we find theſe Able Men P. They are certainly Prodigies in Nature. The . Other of Inferior Condition are ſuch , as underſtand how to judge, and take, and make the beſt advantage of good Counſel, when it is given them. Now all Perſons whatſoever, that make any manner of pretence to - Wiſdom Ch. 1. Of Prudence in general 34? Wiſdom, muſt be included in this Diviſion ; for They who neither know how to give good Advice, nor how to take it when others give it, are by no means fit to come under this Character, but the contrary of Stupidity and Folly. The General Rules, which concern Prudence at large, in it's moſt comprehenſive Signification, as it relates to Perſons and Affairs of all Sorts and Qualities, have been al- ready handled, and ſome ſhort account given of them in the Book thar went before. And thoſe you remember were Eight. Firſt, The true underſtanding of the Perſons and Buſineſs we are engaged with. Secondly, Eſtimating things according to their real worth. Thirdly, The chooſing in conſequence of ſuch Valuation. Fourthly, Asking Advice upon every Un- dertaking, Fifthly, A juſt Temper between the two Vicious Extremes of Confidence and Making ſure of all on the one hand, and Fear and Deſpondency on the other. Sixthly, Ta- king things in their due ſeaſon, and laying hold on Oppor- tunities, when they offer. Seventhly, Managing one's ſelf rightly between Induſtry and Fortune, aſcribing to each the Eficacy that belongs to it, and diſcharging Our part ac- cordingly. The Eighth and Laſt is, Diſcretion in the pra- : ctice and ordering of all the reſt; for this muſt go quite through, and no one part can be what it ought without it. Theſe were ſufficient for my purpoſe at that time, but now I am engaged in another Method; and the deſign of this Third Part cannot be anſwerd, without deſcending to Particulars. Here therefore I ſhall treat of Prudence according to the Di- ſtinctions juſt now ſpecified ; and Firſt of All, of that which is Publick, or Policy, as it relates to Perſons, and then as ... it concerns the Affairs, that come under its Care. ſ. Of the Policy fit for a Sovereign Prince in the Admini- ſtration of Government. The Preface. TH E Inſtruäions I am here about to give, are deſign'd to be uſeful to Sovereign Princes, and Governors of States, Their Tranſations and Methods are indeed in their own Na- ture Uncertain, Unlimited, Difficult to be known and praftiſed, and the Rules neceſſary for their high Station, next to impoff- - Z - - -- 4 ble 9. 342. Of Wiſdom. Book III, ble to be caſt into any certain Form, or preſcribed and deter- mined in particular Precepts. But however, we muſt try, if we can a little clear this matter, and make it in any degree more eaſie and pračicable. What is proper to be ſaid upon this Sub- ješ may be reduc’d to two General Heads, wherein the two Great Duties of a Sovereign conſiſt. The Firſt comprehend under it all thoſe principal Pillars, by which the State is ſupport- ed, and treats of Parts of Governments’ ſo eſſential to the Publick, that they are the very Nerves and Bones of this Body Politick; its Senſe, its Motion, its Form is loſt with, and pre- ſerved by them ; and theſe the Prince is in a ſpecial manner concerned to take care, that Himſelf and the State be conſtantly well furniſhed with. The Chief of them, I think, are theſe Seven : 1. A true Underſtanding of his Government, the People, and their Conſtitution. 2. Perſonal Pirtue. 3. Behaviour and Addreſ, 4. Counſellors. 5. Publick Treaſures. 6. Men and Army. And 7. Alliances. The Three firſt are in his own Perſon ; the Next in himſelf and thoſe near his Perſon ; and the Three laſt are more at a diffance from him. The Second General Head conſiſts in Aćiion; in carefully employing, and making the beſt Advantage of the fore- mention'd Means ; that is, in one Word, but that a very compre- henſive one, in Governing well, and keeping up his Honour and Authority; yet ſo, as at the ſame time to ſecure the Affeštion and good Underſtanding both of his own Subjects and ſtrangers. But to ſpeak more diſtinčily and particularly, this Part is Twofold. Civil and Military. Thus you have in a very ſummary and general way the whole Scheme of Government laid before you at once ; Thus is the P7%rk cut out, and the firſt rude Line: drawn, of what the following Chapters muſt attempt to finiſh and fill up. For the better Convenience then of the Reader and my ſelf. I will according to what hath been here propos'd, divide this Subject of Policy, or Prudence in Government into Two parts. The Firſt ſhall be the Proviſionary Part, or the Care of being furniſh'd with thoſe ſeven Neceſſ try Advantages; The Second, and That which preſuppoſes the former already to be done, ſhall be the Adminiſłration, or Management of the Prince. This Subjeći hath indeed had great Right done to it by Lipſius al- ready ; who wrote an excellent Treatiſe, in a method peculiar to himſelf, but the Sit'ſ?..tnce of it you will find all tranſplanted hit.cº. 1 i.vc act at all bound my ſelf to his Order, as ap- pears tº this general Diviſion already laid down, and will more plainly be ſecn in the following parts of this Diſcourſe ; nor *...* I taken the tricle of him ; but have left part of what was * ... i.e. nº, and le.í to it what I thought fit beſides. H A P. Chap. 2: Of Policy in Government. 343 r C H A P. II. The Firſt Branch f Policy, or Prudence in Government, which is the Proviſionary Part. THE Firſt thing requiſite upon this occaſion, and That 1. which muſt lead the way to all the reſt, is a due Know- Knowledge. ledge of the State or Government: For in all manner of - Prudence, the leading Rule is Knowledge; and He, who is defective in this Qualification, is thereby rendred utterly in- capable of all beſides, as hath already been intimated in the Second Book. For, whoever undertakes any ſort of Aëtion or Management, muſt begin with informing himſelf, what his Buſineſs is, and with whom it lies. And therefore this Prudence, which undertakes to order and diſpoſe whole Na- tions and Kingdoms ; and whoſe peculiar Excellence and Commendation lies in the dexterity and skill of Governing and Adminiſtring the Affairs of the Publick to the beſt ad- vantage, is manifeſtly a Relative Virtue; and the Terms of this Relation, whoſe Concern in this caſe is reciprocal, are the Sovereign and his Subjects: The firſt ſtep then toward diſcharging this Duty, is a right underſtanding of the Parties; that is, of the People and their Subjection on the one hand; and the Supreme Authority of the Prince on the other; for both theſe I include in the Knowledge of the Govern- Inent. Firſt then, A Man in that elevated Poſt ſhould apply him- ſelf to Study and underſtand the Humour and Complexion of the People. For this Knowledge will be a very great direction, and model the Perſon, to whoſe Governance they are committed. . What the Diſpoſition of the Common Peo- ple is in general, hath been at large explain'd in the Firſt Book, and their Picture drawn at full length. There we obſerv'd that their Reigning Qualities are, Fickleneſs, and Inconſtancy ; A Spirit of Faction and Diſcontent; of Im- pertinence and Folly; Love of Vanity and Change; Info- lence and inſupportable Pride in Proſperity ; Cowardice and Dejećtion of Mind in Adverſity. But beſides theſe Chara- &ters, which are common to Perſons of that Condition every where, a Man muſt be ſtill more particularly inſtructed in the Temper and Complexion of that Country, and thoſe Z 4 Subjects 344 of Wiſdom. Book III. Subjects, where himſelf is concern'd. For the Diſpoſitions of Men differ extremely, and are almoſt as various as the Towns wherein they dwell, or the Perſons that inhabit them. Some Nations are in a peculiar and diſtinguiſhing manner, Paſſionate or Cholerick, Bold and Warlike, Cowardly or Luxurious, addicted to Extravagance, to Wine, to Women; Laborious or Slothful : Frugal or Expenſive. And of thoſe, who agree in theſe Qualities, there is a difference in the meaſure ; in Some they are more, and in Others leſs pre- dominant. So neceſſary is that Rule, * That The Common People miſt be Studied, firſt to know what they are, and then whit is the beſt method of dealing with them. And in this Senſe it is, that we are to underſtand the Old Philoſophers; when they pronounce Subjection and Obedience a neceſſa- ry preparation to the Art of Ruling ; t No Man (ſays Seneca) ever Governs well, who hath not fift liv'd under Government, and known what it is to be Commanded himſelf. Not that we are to infer from hence any Neceſſity, or indeed ſo much as a Poſſibility, that all Princes ought to be rais'd to that Dignity from an Inferior Condition ; for ſeveral of them are born Princes; and a Great many Governments paſs on in a Line, and come by Succeſſion, and Proximity in Blood: But the true Importance of that Maxim is, That whoever is deſirous to be a good Governor, muſt inform himſelf of the Humors and Inclinations of his Subjects, and underſtand, which are the reigning Qualities in them, as perfectly well, as if He had been one of the ſame Rank himſelf, and had felt and been acted by them in his own Perſon. But then it is no leſs neceſſary, that the Condition of the Government ſhould be likewiſe thoroughly underſtood ; and that not only What Sovereignty and Power is in general, ac- cording to the deſcription formerly given of it in the Firſt Part of this Treatiſe ; but the Frame and Temper of that Government and that State in particular, where this Perſon himſelf preſides, what the Form and Conſtitution of it is, How it was fix’d and adjuſted, and what Extent of Power is veſted in him ; Whether it be an Old or Later Eſtabliſh- ment; whether it deſcend by Inheritance, or whether it be conferred by Election ; whether it were obtain'd by Re- * Noſcenda Natura Vulgi, & quibus modis temperanter ha- beatur. f Nemo bene imperat, niſi qui ante paruerit imperio. - gular Ch. 1. Of Prudence in Government. 345 gular and Legal Methods, or whether acquired by Force of Arms ; how far his Juriſdiction reaches; what Neighbours are about him; what Strength and what Conveniences he is provided with. For according to theſe, and a great many other Circumſtances, too tedious to be ſpecificed here, a different ſort of Conduct will be found neceſſary. The Scepter muſt be ſwayed, as ſuch Confiderations ſhalſ dićtate; One and the ſame Method will not ſerve all alike; but the Rules and the Adminiſtration muſt be ſuited to the Temper of the Beaſt, and as this proves to be harder or ſofter mouth'd, ſo the Rider muſt take care to keep a ſlacker or a ſtiffer Rein. 2. After this Knowledge of the State and Government, which Tºftema as I ſaid, is in the Nature of a Preface, or Indroduction head. to all the following Heads, the next both in Order and Pirtue. Dignity is Virtue. And no Man can wonder that ſo ho- nourable a Place is aſſign'd to This, among the neceſſa- ry Qualifications of a Governour, who at all conſiders, how abſolutely and indiſpenſably needful it is to a Prince, and that, both upon his own Account, and for the Bene- fit of the Publick. Firſt of all, it is highly reaſonable, as Cyrus well obſerves, That he, who is above all the reſt in Honour and Authority, ſhould be ſo in Goodneſs too ; This is no more, than what ſuch a Great and Elevated Sta- tion may juſtly ſeem to require of him. Then his own Re- putation is nearly concerned in it ; , For Common Fame makes it one great part of its Buſineſs to pick up and diſ- perſe every thing that our Governours do or ſay : The Prince ſtands expoſed to the publick View ; every Eye is upon him, and he is curiouſly watched. There is no ſuch thing in Nature, as Privacy for Princes ; They can no more be conceal’d, than the Sun in the Firmament. They are the conſtant Subject of Diſcourſe in every Company; . and ſo are ſure to have a great deal of Good, or a great deal of Ill ſaid of them. And it is of exceeding great Con- ſequence to any Governour; both with regard to his Perſo- nai, and the Common Intereſt and ſafety, what Opinion the World have of him. Nor is it enough, that the Supreme Governour be Virtuous in his own Temper and Converſati- on, but he is likewiſe oblig'd to take good care, that his Subjects be like him in Goodneſs. And how deeply This concerns him, I appeal to the Univerſal Conſent of all Good and Learned Men, who with one Voice declare it impoſſi- ble for that Kingdom, or Nation, that City or §: Q- 346 of Wiſdom. Book III. Society of Men to proſper, nay,ſo much as to ſubſiſt long, who have baniſhed Virtue from among them. And thoſe nauſeous Flatterers prevaricated much too groſsly, who pretend that it is for the Advantage and Security of Princes, that their Sub- jects ſhould be abandon'd to Wickedneſs and Vice : Becauſe fay they, This emaſculates their Minds, and renders them more tame and ſºil; in their Diſpoſitions; ſo Pliny in his Panegyrick, ſays, /* They are more patient under Slavery, who are fit for nothing but to be Slaves. For, quite contrary, we find by unqueſtionable; Experience, that the more Vicious Men are, the more do they flinch, and grow unruly under the Yoke : The Good and the Gentle, the Meek and Sweet-temper'd Men, theſe are much better qualified to live in Fear and Awe of Authority themſelves; than to be an Awe or give occaſion of Jealouſie to their Governours. i Every Man is more ungovermable, in proportion, as he is a worſe Man, ſays Saluſt: Mutiny, and Diſcontent, and per- K. Uneaſineſs, are the ſure Attendants of a profligate ind. On the other hand, Good Men are very eaſily kept in order; they give their Superiours little trouble, but had rather ſubmit with Reverence and Fear, than be a Terror or Di- ſturbance to thoſe above them. Now there cannot be a more powerful Motive, a more efficacious Mean of bringing o- ver the People, and forming them into Virtue, than the Example of the Prince. For (as daily Experience ſhews,) e- very one affects to be like Him ; and the Court is the Standard of Manners, as well as of Faſhions. The Rea- ſon is, becauſe Example is what Men are ſooner moved, and more ſtrongly wrought upon by, than Laws ; for this is a Law in dumb Show, but hath more Credit and Au- thority, than the Voice of the Law ſpeaking in Commands. ... We do not want Precepts ſº much as Patterns, and Example is the ſofteft and leaſt invidious way of Commanding; ſays Pli- ny. Now, if all Example be a mighty Inducement, That of Great Perſons muſt be ſo in a Degree proportionable to their Quality and Station : For all the Little Ones fix their Eyes and Hearts here, and take their Obſervations from thoſe above them. They ſwallow all without chew- * Patientiores ſervitutis, quos non decet niſi eſſe ſervos. + Peſimus quiſque aſperrime Rećtorem patitur : Contrå. Facile Imperium in Bonos, qui metuentes magis quam metuendi. ... Nectam Imperio nobis opus quam Exemplo ; & mitius ju- betur Exemplo. ing 348 Of Wiſdom. Book lll. Dion. 4. juſtice and Fide- lity. ſtraint, and the World would immediately be overrun with all manner of Wickedneſs, Barbarity and Brutality. So reat an Intereſt hath every Government in Religion; o ſtrong,ſo neceſſary a Curb is the Senſe, and Fear, and Re- werence of it to unruly Mankind. Thus on the other hand, even Cicero, who does not appear to have been any mighty Devote, makes it his Obſervation, That the Roman; owed the Riſe, and Growth, and flouriſhing Condition of their Commonwealth, to their Exemplary Reſpect for Reli- gion, more than to any other Cauſe whatſoever. Upon this account, every Sovereign is very highly concerned, and ſtrictly oblig'd to ſee, that Religion be preſerv'd entire, and that no Breaches be made upon it : That it be encou- ragd and ſupported, according to the eſtabliſh'd Laws, in all its Rights, Ceremonies, Uſages, and Local Conſtituti- ons: Great Diligence ſhould be uſed to prevent Quarrels, Diviſions, and Innovations ; and ſevere Puniſhments inflicted upon all who go about to alter, or diſturb, or infringe it. For, without all Controveſie, every Injury done to Religion, and all raſh and bold Alterations in it, draw af- ter them a very conſiderable damage to the Civil State; weaken the Government, and have a general ill Influence upon Prince and People both ; as Marcenas very excellently argues, in his Oration to Auguſtus. Next after Piety, Juſtice is of greateſt Conſequence and Neceſſity; without which Governments are but ſo many Sets of Banditi, Robbers, and Invaders of the Rights of their Brethren. This therefore a Prince ought by all means to preſerve and maintain in due Honour and Regard ; both in his own Perſon and Converſation, and in the Obſervance of thoſe under his Juriſdiction. 1. It is neceſſary to be ſtričtly obſerved by the Sove- reign Himſelf : For nothing but Deteſtation and the ut- moſt Abhorrence is due to thoſe Barbarous and Tyranni- cal Maxims, which pretend to ſet a Prince above all Laws ; and to complement him with a Power of Diſ- penſing at Pleaſure with Reaſon, and Equity, and all man- ner of Obligation and Conſcience; which tell Kings that they are not bound by any Engagements ; and that their Will and Pleaſure is the only Meaſure of their Duty; That Laws were made for common Men, and not for ſuch as They : That every thing is Good and Juſt, which they find moſt practicable and convenient : In ſhort, that their LQuity is their Strength ; and whatever they can do, that Ch. 2. Of Prudence in Government. 349 that they may do. * No Min ever preſumes to preſcribe to Princes, or include them within the Verge of any Lawſ, but their own Inclinations. In the higheſt Poſt, juſtice is always on the ſtronger ſide : That which is moſt profitable, can never be unlawful, Holineſ, and Piety, Faith and Truth, and com- mon Homºſºy are the Virtues of private Men : Princes may take their own Courſe, and are above theſe vulgar Diſpenſations. So ſay Pliny and Tacitus. But againſt this falſe Doctrine, too apt to be liked by Perſons in Power, I cntreat my wife Prince, to oppoſe the really Excellent and Pious Sen- tences and Directions of Grave and Good Philoſophers. “ They tell you, That the greater Power any Man is inveſted “with, the more regular and modeſt he ſhould be in the “Exerciſe of it; That this is one of thoſe Things which “ muſt always be uſed with a Reſerve ; and the more one “could do , the leſs it will become him to do. That the ‘more abſolute and unbounded any Man's Authority is, the “greater Check, and more effectual Reſtraint he hath upon “ him. That every Man's Ability ſhould be meaſured by “his Duty ; and what he may not, that he cannot do. f He that can do what he will, muſt take care to will but a very lit- tle. And Great Men ſhould never think they have a Liberty of doing what ought not to be done. The Prince then ought to lead the way, and be firſt and moſt eminent for Juſtice and Equity; and particularly he muſt be ſure to be very punctual to his Word ; and to keep his Faith and his Promiſe moſt inviolably; becauſe Fide- lity and Truth is the Foundation of all manner of juſtice whatſoever; whether to all his Subjects in general, or to each Perſon in particular. How mean ſoever the Party, or how ſlight ſoever the Occaſion be, ſtill this Word muſt be Sacred. When he hath thus provided for his own Beha- viour, his next Care is, to ſee that others are Juſt too. For This indeed is the Fundamental Article of all Government, the very End of its Inſtitution, and the particular Truſt put into the Hands of every Sovereign. He hath his Power committed to him for this very Purpoſe, To take care that “Principi Leges nemo ſcripfit. Licet, ſi libet. In finimä for- runā id acquius quod validius; nihil injuſlum quod fructuoſum. San&titas, Pietas, Fides privata bona ſtint ; quâjuvat Reges cant. + Minimum decet libere; cuinimium licet. Non fas potentes poſſe, fieri quod nefas. - - , = | Ju- 35o Of Wiſdom. Book III. Juſtice be equally diſtributed, and Wrongs and Oppreſſions repreſs'd, by interpoſing his Arbitration and the Power of the Sword. Therefore he ought in Perſon, or in Authori- ty and Deputation, to hear and decide Cauſes; to let eve- ry one have a fair Tryal,to award to each Party what by the Letter of the Law, or by the equitable Conſtruction of it, belongs to him ; and all this without Delays, or Quirks, or Trickings; without Perplexing the Caſe, or Counte- nancing Foul and Litigious Pračtice: And in order hereunto it were very well if that Way of Pleading now in uſe, could be either reformed, as it ought, or quite turn'd out of doors; which is at preſent become a moſt vile, moſt de- ſtructive Trade, a perfeół Market, t A Robbery and Picking of Pockets Countenanc'd by the Law, and upheld under the Pretence of a Learned and Honourable Profeſſion. It will alſo be adviſable, to avoid, as much as may be, Mul- tiplicity of Laws and Decrees, which only breed Confuſion, and are '.' A Symptom of a ſick and corrupt State, as ſure as taking much Phyſick and wearing many Plaiſters are Signs of groſs Humours and ill Health. For unleſs ſome Care of this kind be taken, that which is eſtabliſhed by Good and Wiſe Laws, will be defeated and quite overturned again, by too many Laws. One thing, by the way, ought not to be omitted upon this Occaſion ; which is, that the Juſtice, and Virtue, and Pro- bity of a Prince is not in all Points ty'd up to the ſame Me- thods, and manner of Proceeding with that of Perſons in a private Capacity. It hath a larger Range, and freer Scope allow'd ; and all this Latitude is Indulgence little enough ; no more than is abſolutely neceſſary for the Weighty and Hazardous Office our Governours are engag'd in, and the Infinite Unconceivable Difficulties that .# in their Admi- niſtration. This makes it reaſonable for Them to go in a Way by Themſelves ; the common and direct Tract is too Narrow ; they are oblig'd to ſhift, and dodge, and wheel about, and whatever Cenſures People, who underſtand not the Nature of the Caſe, may paſs, as if every thing that is unuſual and indirect, were preſently Wicked and Unjuſt ; yet thoſe, who are capable of conſidering, and competent judges of the Matter, muſt admit it to be lawful and al- + Conceſum Latrocinium. Columel. ‘. Corruptiſfima. Reipub, plurima leges. lowable -- - * Chap. 2. Of Prudence in Government. 35 i Iowable, as well as prudent and needful for them to do. For Prudence muſt be mix'd with Juſtice ; ſome Feints and Stra- ragems, and little Slights made uſe of ; and (as they common- ly expreſs it) when the Lion's Skin is not big enough of it ſelf, it muſt be eked out, by tacking a Fox-Skin to it. Nor would I be ſo miſtaken here neither, as to be thought "see the a Juſtifier of theſe crafty Dealings at all times, and in all Noter. Caſes indifferently. By no means, This is not a ſtanding Rule of Action ; But muſt be reſerv'd for ſpecial Occaſions; and particularly, there muſt be three Conditions to war- rant it. The firſt is abſolute Neceſſity, or at leaſt, ſome e-, vident and very conſiderable Advantage to the Publick(that is, to the Prince and the State, who are to be look'd upon as One and the Same, and their Intereſts altogether inſeparable) and this muſt by all means be conſulted, and made the chief Aim. This is a natural, an indiſpenſable Obligation: For the Publick Good is a Conſideration Paramount to all o- thers; and the Man that is procuring it, cannot but be do- ing his Duty. * The Safety of the People muſibe the Supreme Law. The Second Qualification which theſe Methods muſt have to recommend them, nay indeed to acquit them of Blame, is, That they be uſed Defenſively, only and not Offenſively; with a Deſign to preſerve a Prince or a State, but not to aggrandize Them, and oppreſs Others. . . For this Reaſon they ſhould ſeldom or never be begun with, but only re- turned back again ; and then are they in proper time and Place, when employ'd to ſave the Publick from Snares and Subtle Deſigns, and not to contrive, but to diſcover and defeat miſchievous and wicked Practices. For one Trick may be anſwered with another ; and it is reaſonable to play the Fox with a Fox. The World is exceeding full of Ma- lice and Cunning: And Ariſtotle's Obſervation is moſt true, That the Subverſion of States and Kingdoms is uſually ow- ing to Treachery and Deceit. What then ſhould hinder P what forbid P Nay, in ſuch Exigencies, what can excuſe the Conſervators of the Publick Safety, from preventing and diſappointing ſuch Calamities and Villainous Intentions by countermining 2 Why may not the State ſave it ſelf * Salus Populi Suprema Lex eſto. 352 of Wiſdom. Book III. by the ſame Methods that were practis'd to ruine it, and retort the Artifice of Faëtious and Wicked Male-contents back upon their own Heads P For a Man to be too Squeamiſh in theſe Caſes; to play conſtantly above-board and upon the ſquare; and deal with theſe Men, accord- ing to the Rules of that Rigorous Equity and Plain-deal- ing, which Reaſon and Conſcience require from us in private Affairs, is inconſiſtent with the Nature and the Meaſures, nay, with the very End of all Government ; and the Event would often be the betraying and loſing all, and Sacrificing the Publick to an Unreaſonable Scruple. The Third Qualification is, That theſe Methods be uſed moderately and diſcreetly ; As they are not fit for all Times, nor all Occaſions; ſo neither are all Perſons fit to be truſted with them.For they are capable of great Abuſes: And if abuſed, will prove of ill Example and ill Conſequence by miniſtring Occaſion to ill Men, to practiſe and juſtifie their Frauds and indirect Dealings, and ſo giving Counte- nance to Wickedneſs and Injuſtice, even in private Commerce and Tranſactions: For a Man is never at Liberty to forſake Virtue and Honeſty, to follow Vice and Injuſtice; Theſe things are ſo far from indifferent, that there is no Poſſibility of reconciling thoſe diſtant Extremes, no Satisfaction capable of being made for ſo ill a Choice. And therefore away with all Injuſtice and Infidelity, all Treacherous and Illegal Pro- ceedings; and curſed be the Principles and the Politicks of thoſe Men, who (as I inſtanc'd before) would poſſeſs Sove- reign Commanders with a Belief that all things are lawful, if they be but expedient for them. There is a vaſt diffe- rence between ſuch an Arbitrary Notion of Right and Wrong, and the Rules and Limitations I have here laid down. Reaſons of Stare may ſometimes make it neceſſary to tem- per Honeſty with Profit, and try if theſe two can be ſo min- gled together as to make a good Compoſition. But, tho' we may try to compound and ſoften the Matter, yet we muſt never act in oppoſition to Juſtice. We may, nay, we muſt ſometimes uſe Artifice and Subtilty; we may ſometimes wheel off a little, and fetch a Compaſs about it ; but we muſt never loſe Sight of it, much leſs turn our Backs upon it, and caſt all Regard for ſo Sacred a Thing behind us. For there is a Cunning very conſiſtent with Virtue and ſtrict Honour, ſuch as St. Baſil the Great calls a Great and Com- mendable Cunning, (Magna & laudabilis Aſtutia) ſuch as tends to Good ; and may be uſed, as Mothers and Phyſicians * y Ch. 2. Of Prudence in Government. 353 by their Children and their Patients, when they tell them fine Stories to amuſe and entertain them, and by degrees cheat them into Health. In ſhort, many things may be tranſacted ſecretly and in the dark, which are not fit for publick View, and will not bear an opener Proceſs; Pru- dence and Stratagem may be added to Courage and Strength. Art and Wit may ſupply the Defects of Nature and Force, in caſes which theſe are not ſufficient to manage: A Gover- nour may, nay, he ought to be, as Pindar calls it, a Lion in the Field, and a Fox at the Council-Table; or, as that Divine Saviour, who was Truth it ſelf, hath expreſt himſelf upon another occaſion; He may be a ſubtle Serpent, but ſtill a harmleſs Dove. To ſay ſomewhat of this Matter more particularly, and 6. give the Reader a diſtinét Notion, what ſort of Subtlety I Diſruff- mean. I ſay that Diſtruſt, and the keeping himſelf much ing otherſ, upon the Reſerve, is highly requiſite in a Prince; and this is to be done, without abandoning Virtue and Equity. Di- ſtruſt, which is the former of theſe two Qualifications, is abſolutely neceſſary; as indeed its contrary, Credulity, and Eaſineſs, and raſh Confidence, is a very great Fault, and of moſt dangerous Conſequence to a Prince : For his Station obliges him to Vigilance; he is accountable for the whole Community, and therefore no Faults of his own can be light and inconſiderable ; and where every Action hath ſo mighty effect, ſuch univerſal Influence, great Care ſhould be taken, and every thing done adviſedly. If he be of a confiding Temper, he diſcovers his Intentions, and lays himſelf open to Shame and Reproach, and a world of Dangers; * He Iays himſelf in the way of being ill uſed; nay, he even in- vites and tempts treacherous and deceitful People to pra. Čtiſe upon him ; and gives them a power to do a World of Miſchief, with very little danger, and great Opportuni- ties of Advantage to themſelves. Knaves have always the Inclination to be falſe; and truſting them gives them Abi- lity of gratifying that Inclination to our Prejudice. A Prince ſhould always retreat behind this Shield of Diffidence ; as ſome of the Philoſophers have ſtiled it, who repreſent it as a very conſiderable Branch of practical Wiſdom, the very Nerves and Sinews, that impart Strength and Motion: That * Opportunus Injuria. Senec. Aditum nocendi Perfido præ- ſtat Fides, - A a Diffidence, 3.54 Of Wiſdom. Book III, Diffidence, I mean, which conſiſts in keeping ones Eyes open, ones Mind in ſuſpence, ſuſpecting and providing againſt every thing. And for all this, he will not need any more convincing Reaſon, any ſtronger Inducement, than barely the reflections upon the Temper and Condition of the World would give him. To obſerve, how all Mankind are made up of Falſhood and Deceit, of Tricks and Lies; how Unfaithful and Dangerous, how full of Diſguiſe and Deſign all Converſation is at preſent become, but eſpeci- ally, how much more it abounds near his own Per- ſon, and how manifeſtly Hypocrifie and Diffimulation are the reigning Qualities of Prince's Courts, and Great Men's Families, above any other places whatſoever. A King therefore muſt be ſure to truſt but Few, but very Few; and thoſe ſhould always be ſuch, as long Acquaint- ance, and many Tryals have given him a perfect Under- ſtanding, and good Aſſurance of And even theſe moſt intimate Confidents muſt be conſulted with ſo diſcreetly, that he never commit himſelf entirely, and without any re- ſerve to them; he muſt not give them all the Rope, but conſtantly keep one End in his own Hand ; and how long a Range ſoever he think fit to allow them, yet it will be very neceſſary to have an Eye always upon their Motions. But yet at the ſame time,this very Diſtruſt muſt be concealed, and diſſembled too; and in the very midſt of his Reſerves, a Prince muſt put on the Air of Openneſs and Friendſhip, and appear to repoſe a mighty Confidence in thoſe about him. For nothing is more provoking and offenſive, than plainly to ſee one's ſelf ſuſpected ; and this Diſtance and jealoufie is ſometimes as ſtrong a Temptation to Treachery and foul Play, as too ſupine and free a Confidence. * Ma- my Perſons, ſays Scnect, have put it into People's Heads to deceive them, who would never have harbour'd any ſuch Thought, if their own Fears of being deceived, had not given the fift Hint. And thus it is ſometimes in the other Extreme too; A very great Frankneſs and declard Reliance, oftentimes takes off the Inclination to betray a Secret, and wrong the good Opinion and Confidence you have of them: And many People have been brought over to ſtrict, Loyalty and Fidelity, and hearty Affection, by ſeeing themſelves free- ... " Multi fallere docuerunt timentes falli. Sen. r Chap. 1. Of Prudence in Government. 355 ly dealt with. For * Every body naturally loves to be truſted; and the repºſing a more than ordinary Confidence, ſometimes fixes a Min in Tour Intereſts, and engages him to be Secret and Faithful. So much Ingenuity ſtill remains in the moſt degenerate Minds, that they ſee the Odiouſneſs of Trea- chery and Falihood; and tho' Gain put too many upon doing the thing, yet not one of all thoſe can bear the im– utation, or be reconciled to the Character of Falfifying a ruſt. From that Diſtruſt ſprings Diſſimulation; which is a 7. Branch of the ſame Stock: 'For were there no ſuch thing Diffmula- as Diffidence and Reſerve, but Frankneſs and Fidelity, and tion. Good Aſſurance every-where, there would be no place left for Diſſembling; whoſe Buſineſs it is to open the Face, but cover the Heart; and while one's outward Air ſeems to unlock all, to keep the Thoughts and Intentions cloſe and unſeen. Now the ſame Diffinulation, which in Perſons of Private Condition would be vicious and abominable, is in Princes highly commendable; there is no diſcharging their weighty Affairs without it; and the very thing which ruins Common Converſation, is the beſt Security, and neceſſary ſupport of Government. Feints and Pretences are abſolute. !y requiſite, not in Military Conduct only, and time of War, to amuſe Enemies and Strangers, but even in Peace and Civil Adminiſtration towards one's own Subjects ; tho’ upon ſuch Occaſions, I confeſs, they ought to be practiſed more ſparingly and nicely. The plain, and free, and open, ſuch as we commonly ſay carry their Heart in their Fa- ges, are by no means cut out for the Buſineſs of Govern- lºg ; they often ruine and betray both themſelves and their People. And yer, as was obſerved in the former Para- graph, ſo here again, this Díſimulation requires ſome Dex- terity and Skill. It is not every one whoſe Temper will let him diſſemble, that is Maſter of this Art; for unleſs the Part be play'd well, it is abſolutely ſpoil'd ; and there- fore care muſt be taken of Over-doing, and Unſeaſona- bkneſs, and aukward improper Carriage. For This is eaſily ſeen through, and then you loſe your End. For to what Purpoſe do you hide and diſguiſe your ſelf, if the Mask be to plain, that cvery Body can diſtinguiſh, and ſce you put it Vult, quiſque ſibi credi, & habita fides ipſum plerunque obligat fidem. * A a 2 Qſì f 356 Of Wiſdom. Book III. 8. Secret Ser- vice. on P And how vain are all Pretences and little Artifices, when the Secret is once out, and the Deſign hath taken Air P Their very Nature then is changed, and they ceaſe from thenceforward to be Artifices any more. It is there- fore fit for a Prince to pretend to Simplicity and Sincerity, the better to cover his Addreſs of this kind ; and conveni- ent for him to court, and careſs, and commend Men of o- pen Tempers and free Carriage, and all that profeſs them- ſelves Enemies to Diſſimulation; nay, it is expedient for him, in matters of leſs Conſequence, to act ſo, and gain the Reputation of ſuch a one himſelf, that ſo he may be more at liberty to uſe Art and Reſerve in Affairs of greater Mo- ment, and be ſafe from Jealouſe when he does ſo ; under the ſhelter of a contrary Character. - What hath hitherto been exemplify'd, is chiefly on the Omitting ſide; and the Exerciſe of it conſiſts not ſo much in Aétion, as in forbearing, and ſeeming not to act. But ſome Occaſions require a great deal more ; and therefore a Prince muſt be qualify'd for bolder Strokes, and advance to actual Deceit; of which there are Two ſorts neceſſary to be under- ſtood, and ſometimes to be practiſed. The Firſt is That of ſetling a private Correſpondence, and getting Intelligence underhand: The engaging the Affe- Čtions and Services of Officers, Attendants, Counſellors, and Confidents to Foreign Princes ; or, if occaſion be, contriving to have ſecret Information, not only how one's Enemies, or Brother-Kings, but even one's own Subjects behave them- ſelves; and what Deſigns are brewing. This is a ſort of Subtlety much in requeſt, and every where made uſe of, between one Prince and another ; and Tully recommends it as a very conſiderable Point of Prudence. Sometimes this is effected by the power of Perſuaſion only; but, generally ſpeaking, there are more ſenſible and moving Arguments made uſe of than bare Words can pretend to ; Preſents, I mean, and Penſions ; whoſe Force is ſo irreſiſtible, that not only Secretaries of State, Preſidents of Councils, parti- cular Friends, and intimate Favourites, have by this means been prevailed upon to communicate, and ſo prevent and defeat the Deſigns of the Maſter, whoſe Bread they eat, and to whoſe Countenance and Bounty they owe all their Great- neſs; not only Commanders have i. their Enemies in time of Aëtion; but, which is ſtill more prodigious, and proves the Almighty Power of Bribery, to the Eternal Re- proach of treacherous corrupt Nature, even Wives . - - CIWes Ch. 2. of ſprudence in Government. 357 2. ſelves have been hired to diſcover the Secrets, and betray the ſafety of their own Husbands. Now this corrupting the Confidents of others, is what a great many make no ſcruple of approving ; and indeed, if it be practiſed either againſt a declared Enemy, or a Subject of one's own, who hath miniſtred juſt Grounds of Suſpicion; or if it be againſt any Stranger in general, with whom we are under no particular Engagements of Alliance or Friendſhip, or mutual Truſts, there ſeems to be no great difficulty in al- lowing it to Princes: But certainly it can never be juſti: fy'd againſt Confederates and Friends; for where any ſuch Obligations intervene, theſe very Attempts to debauch thoſe upon whoſe Secrecy and Advice they rely, is a piece of Trea- chery never to be indulged them. The other ſort of neceſſary Deceit, is the Addreſs of gain- ing Advantages, and compaſſing one's Deſign, by cunning and unſeen Methods; by equivocating and ambiguous Terms ; by refind Subtleties, and deep Intrigues; by good Words, fair Promiſes, Complements and Congratulations, the Formalities of Embaſſies and Letters ; by theſe out- wardly fair Pretences, and amuſing Stratagems, bringing Matters about, and ſecuring Advantages, which the want of Time, or Opportunity, or the Difficulty and Perplexity of a Prince's Affairs had cut him out from effecting any other way: And ſo he muſt work like a Mole, under-ground, and do that unſeen and behind the Curtain, which will not bear the open Stage. There have been ſeveral great and wiſe Men of Opinion, that theſe Proceedings are lawful as well as expedient. * Governours ought to make no ſcruple of having tent recourſe to Lies and Tricks, when th P freque iſe to Lies and Trick, when the Advantage of Valer. their Subjects is concerned, (ſays one). And another, That it is a Part of Prudence to deceive, as occaſion and the preſent po- fure of Affairs ſhall require. I muſt confeſs for my own part, Theſe ſeem to me very bold Aſſertions; and I think the pronouncing ſuch Practices generally and in themſelves lawful, ſavours of too much Poſitiveneſs, or too great La- titude. The furtheſt I dare ſtretch in favour of them, and that poſſibly one might venture to ſay, is, That where the Caſe is almoſt deſperate, and the Neceſſity exceeding ur- * Crebro mendacio & fraude uti Imperantes debent ad Commodum, Subditorum. Decipere pro moribus temporum Prudentie eſt. A a 3 gent, lato. liny. Of Wiſdom. Book II * Sec the Notes. I C. Injuſtice for the Publick Good. gent, when it is a Seaſon of Perplexity, and Confuſion, and general Diſorder; when the Eid propoſed to be attained by it, is not only the promoting the Intereſt or Greatneſs of a Commonwealth, but the averting and ſhifting off ſome Very great and threatning Michiefs ; and when the Per- ſons, againſt whom we take thcſe Advantages, are profli- gate, and of no Principles themſelves; I ſay, all theſe Cir- cumſtances concurring, a Man perhaps might venture to ſay that ſuch Tricks of State are either no Faults; or if they, be, very moderate and pardonable Faults. *But there are other Inſtances ſtill behind of much greater difficulty ; ſuch as miniſter very juſt ground of Doubt, whe- ther they are allowable upon Reaſons of State, or not, be- cauſe they have a ſtrong Tincture of Injuſtice, and border hard upon Oppreſſion. I ſay they have a ſtrong Tincture, becauſe they are not totally unjuſt ; for there is a Mixture of Juſtice at the ſame time, to temper and allay the Inju- ſtice that is in them. For were there not ſo, there could be no ſcruple. That which is altogether unjuſt, and manifeſt- ly ſo, all Men agree in condemning; even the vileſt Wretches alive have not yet put off all Diſtinctions of Right and Wrong, all Senſe of Guilt and Shame: But what they al- low themſelves in the practice of, cven that they diſallow in Profeſſion and Pretence. But the Caſe is ctherwiſe in mixt Aétions; there are Arguments and Appearances of Reaſon at leaſt, Examples and Authorities on both ſides ; and a Man, that enters into the Diſquiſition, does not find it eaſie what Reſolutions to take. At leaſt he finds ſome- what to give Countenance to what his Convenience per- ſuades ; and that which hath divided Men's Judgments, and made it a 'moot Point, he thinks will be ſufficient for his Vindication. Abundance of Caſes of this nature might be ſpecify'd ; but at preſent I ſhall content my ſcif with a few, *The Reader is deſired to obſerve how cautious and tender the Authoris, at the End of theſe Caſes, which is the more remarkable, becauſe he lived under an Abſolute and Arbitra- ry Government, where many things were practiſed and al- lowed, which can by no means hold, or be drawn into Pre- cedents in limited Conſtitutions. And generally ſpeaking, no doubt that Prince governs beſt, who brings his Meaſures near- eft to thoſe of Common and Private Juſtice. The Reader will find an excellent Remark to this purpoſe, made by one who was himſelf an Emperor, in M. Milonin, is avºy, lib.ix.S.24. - - - - that Chap. 2. of Trudence in Government. 359 that now occur to nie, and leave it to the Reader, to put o- thers like, or parallel to theſe, as he ſees fit. What ſhall we ſay firſt to the ridding ones Hands of a troubleſome peſtilent Fellow, that propagates Faction and Diſorder, and is eternally breaking the publick Peace, by getting him taken off ſecretly, without any legal Proceſs 2 This Man, take notice, is ſuppoſed to deſerve Death, but the Circumſtances of the Offender, and of the Prince, are ſuch, that without manifeſt Danger to the State, he cannot be brought to Juſtice, nor made an Example in the common way. Here is, they tell you, no material Injuſtice in all This ; the Offender hath but his Due ; and, as Matters ſtand, the Publick is better ſerved by his having it in this way, than it could be, by puniſhing him after the man- ner of other Offenders of the like Nature. So that the moſt you can make of this, is a Breach of the Forms and Methods preſcribed by Law ; and ſurely, they tell you, the Sovereign Prince is above Forms. The next is Clipping the Wings, and giving a Check to the Wealth and Power of ſome Great Man, who is growing Popular, and ſtrengthening his Intereſt; and both from his A- bility and Inclination to do Miſchief, becomes formidable to his Prince. The Queſtion here is, whether a Prince may not lower and cut ſuch a potent Subject ſhort in time, without ſtaying ſo long for a fair Provocation , that he ſhall be grown too big to be dealt with ; and if any Attempts be made, either againſt the publick Peace in general, or the Life of the Prince in particular, it will not then be poſſible to prevent or to puniſh them, though we would never to fain. Another is, In an extreme Exigence,and when no other Sup- plies are to be had, ſeizing upon private Stocks, and ſo com- pelling ſome of the wealthieſt Subjects to furniſh the Pub- iick Neceſſitics, when the Nation is not able by all its Pub- lick Funds to ſupport it ſclf. A Fourth is Infringing and Vacating ſome of the Rights and Privileges which ſome of the Subjects cnjoy, when the Authority of the Prince is prejudiced and diminiſh- ed, and his Grandeur eclipſed by the Continuance of them. The Laſt is, a Point of Prevention, when a Fort, or a Town, or a Province very commodious to the Government is ſeiz'd, and got into a Prince's Hands by interpoſing firſt ; and to keep it out of the Poſſeſſion of ſome other powerful and very ºft Neighbour ; who by making himſelf Maſter of this Paſs, would have been in a Condition of A a 4 doing 36c of Wiſdom. Book III. doing great Injury, and giving perpetual Diſturbance to this Prince and his Country, who are now the firſt Occupiers. All theſe things, I know, ſound harſh, and are hardly, if at all, to be reconciled with the common Notions of Ju- ſtice. Matters of State are neither fit nor ſafe for me to give a Judgment in ; thus much only, I think, may not misbecome this place to ſay, That, as on the one hand the indulging and having frequent recourſe to ſuch A&tions is very dangerous, gives juſt matter of Jealouſe to the Sub- jećt, and will be apt to degenerate into Tyranny and Ex- orbitant uſe of Power; ſo on the other, it is plain, Sub- jećts ought to be modeſt and very ſparing in cenſuring the Aétions of their Prince, and the Steps he makes for the publick Safety, however bold they may ſeem, and beyond the Lengths which are commonly gone. And this ſuſpend- ing at leaſt of our Judgments in matters of another and very diſtant Sphere, will appear the more reaſonable, when I have ſhewed you that very eminent Men, Perſons of ac- knowledged Virtue as well as vaſt Learning and Wiſdom, have approved all thoſe Practiſes already mention'd, and think them not amiſs, provided the Succeſs be good, and anſwer their Intentions. And to this purpoſe I will quote you here ſome of thoſe Sentences and Remarks which they have left us upon ſuch Occaſions. In order to preſerve 31ſtice in greater and more important Matters, there is ſometimes a neceſſity (ſays Plutarch ) of de- viating from it in thoſe of leſs Moment. And in order to doing Right to the generality, and in the groſs, it is allowa- ble to put ſºme Hardſhips, and be guilty of ſome Māong to particular Perſons. * Commonly ſpeaking, (ſays Tacitus) the braveſ; Exploits, and mºſt celebrited Examples, carry ſome- what of Injuſtice in them : But in this Ciſe, what Private Men ſtiffer is alundantly compenſated by the Benefit which the Publick receives from it. f A Prudent Prince, ſays Plu- tarch again, muſt not only know how to govern according to Law ; But if a neceſſary occaſion require it, he muſt learn to govern even the Laws themſelves ; When they fall ſhort of their End, and cannot do what they would, he muft ſtretch and curred, and give a new Power to the Laws where they hap- * Omne magnum Exemplum habet aliquid ex iniquo, quod adverſus ſingulos utilitate publică rependitur. - #"Ovra's #yelovak: , ovdiv #zov, , ; x3 +º, véuss, 2×2 kai * * dºziv ºziºard rººs tº ºvuºtes, &c. in fine Flamin. Pén Ch. 2. Of Prudence in Government. 361. pen to be defeative ; that is, if they are not willing he ſhould ão what is fitting in that 3 unèture, he muſt make them wil- ling. ... When the State is in Confuſion, and things brought to a Plunge, the Prince (ſays Curtius) muſt not think himſelf obliged to follow that which will look or ſound beſt to the World, but that which the preſent Extremity calls for. , And again, * Neceſſity, (ſays Seneca.) That great Refuge and Excuſe for Humane Frailty, breaks thro' all Laws ; and he is not to be ac- counted in fault, whoſe Crime is not the Effekt of Choice, but Force. Ariſtotle's Rule is, If a Prince cannot be good in every part of his Government, 'tis enough that he be ſo in the greater, or at leaſt an equal part ; but let him be ſure not to be bad in every part. And Democritus, That it is impoſſible for the beſt Princes in the World not to be guilty of ſome Injuſtice. Thus much however, I preſume to add, that let theſe Aétions of theirs find never ſo favourable Interpretations, never ſo juſt Allowances ; yet for their own Juſtification, and the ſoftening as much as may be, the Odium of ſuch irregular Proceedings: There is not only a Neceſſity that they ſhould be reſerved for the laſt Extremities, but that when Princes are perfectly driven to make uſe of them, they ſhould go about it with a real unwillingneſs and great Regret. They ſhould look upon This neceſſity to which they are reduced, as a very particular Misfortune, and Mark of an angry Providence ; and all their Behaviour and Reſentments upon ſuch Occaſions, muſt be like thoſe of tender Parents, when, ſore againſt their Will, a beloved Child is to have a Limb ſear'd, or cut off; Methods which nothing but the hope of ſaving his Life by this only Re- medy, could ever prevail with them to ſubmit to ; or as a Man in extremity of Pain goes about the draw- ing a Tooth, when nothing elſe will eaſe or aſſwage the Anguiſh. And now I have related the Opinions of very eminent Philoſophers and Politicians, and obſerved what Abatements they are content to make for Caſes of neceſſity; I muſt once more ſolemnly avow , that as for any Paſſages, or Politick Maxims, which pretend to greater Li- berties, ſuch as ſet a Prince above all Conſideration of Law or Juſtice,that make Profit and Greatneſs the only End worthy ... Non ſpecioſa dićtu, ſed uſu neceſſaria in rebus adverſis ſe- quenda eſſe. 9. Curt. Lib. 5. * Neceſſitas magnum imbecillitatis humanae patrocinium, om- nem Legem frangit ; non eſt nocens, quicunque non ſponte eſt no:ens. Senec. his 362 Of Wiſdom. Book III. II. Valour. I 2. Clemency. not ; and how often do even the beſt intending Men, fall ſhort his proſecuting; and either place Advantage upon the Level with Honeſty, or ſet it higher, every Good Man muſt abo- minate them; and every good Governour will be ſo far from taking his meaſures according to this Standard, that he will reječe them with Deteſtation and Diſdain. I have inſiſted ſo much the longer upon this Branch of a Prince's Virtue ; becauſe of the many Difficulties and Doubts, which ariſe upon this Point of Juſtice; the regular Exerciſe and Adminiſtration whereof muſt needs be very much interruptcd and perplexed by the infinite Emergencies, the ſudden and extraordinary Changes, and the Neceſſities that the publick happens to be invovld in. And theſe often- times are ſo very intricate and preſſing, that they may ve- ry well be allowed to puzzle the Wiſeſt, and to ſtagger the braveſt, and moſt reſolute Commanders. After Juſtice follows Valour; by which I mean particu- larly that Virtue which is Military ; The Courage, the Con- dućt, the Capacity, which go to the making a Compleat General. For this is a Qualificatian abſolutely neceſſary for a Prince, for the Defence and Security of his own Perſon, and the Publick both. The Welfare of his Subjects, the Peace and Quiet of the Kingdom, the Rights and Liberties of a Nation, All lie at His Charge ; He is their Conſerva- tor, and they depend upon his Ability, to aſſert, and pro- rečt, and maintain them. All which Valour only can enable him to do ; and by the very little ſaid already upon it, That appears to be ſo cſlential a part of the Royal Character, that a Man who hath it not, ſcarce deſerves the Name of a Prince. Let us now proceed to the Fourth Princely Virtue, which is Clemency. By which I mean ſuch a Habit and Diſpoſition of Mind, as inclines the Prince to Mildneſs and Gentleneſs; to Gracious Allowances, and large Abatements from the Ri- gour of the Law, and Extremity of Juſtice; and all this temper'd with Judgment and Diſcretion. This moderates, manages, and ſweetens all ; it ſpurs the Guilty, relieves the Poor and dejected, and reſcues thoſe that are ready to periſh. Clemency in the Ruler anſwers to Humanity in common Mcn ; it is contrary to Cruelty and exceſs of Rigour, but not to juſtice; for with this it is very reconcilable, and all its Care is to ſoften, and to moderate its Determinations. Nothing can be more neceſſary, more ſeaſonable, conſider- ing the many Infirmities of Humane Nature ; how great a part of Mankind offend wilfully, and do what they ſhould of Chap. 1. Of Prudence in Government. 36; of what they ſhould P. Extreme Rigour, and * ſevere Uſage, without any intermiſſion, any Abatement, ſpoils all ; it har- ‘dens Mens Tempers, and brings Authority into Contempt. Puniſhments loſe their Force, and their End, when made cornmon, and executed every Day ; they provoke Mens In- dignation and Malice, (for indeed Men are often Wicked out of mere Rage and Spight,) and many Rebellions have been rais'd by the Thirſt of Revenge. There is ſomething in Fear, which is even deſtructive of Duty, if it be not tempered, and kept within Bounds by Lenity and good Na- ture ; and if turn'd into Horrour by ſharp Uſage, and too ftrong Impreſſions, it grows Furious and Deſperate, Malici- ous and Bloody. Thus the Author hath obſerv'd very truly, ... That Fear which ſecures Peace and good Order, muſt be mo– derate ; if once it lecome continual and extreme, it ſpurs Men on to Mutiny and Revenge. Clemency is likewiſe of great Advantage, both to the Prince and the Publick, as it gains the Good-will of the Subjects, and binds them in the ſtrait- eft and the ſureſt Ties to the Government; even thoſe of Affection and Kindneſs, for theſe are always the ſtrongeſt and moſt laſting Security; and t A Prince never ſits ſo faſt, as when his Subječis are eaſie, and take a pleaſure in their Obedience, as I ſhall have Occaſion to ſhew hereafter. For in ſuch a Caſe the People will look upon their Gover- nour, as a ſort of Deity Incarnate; They will honour and adore him as ſuch ; they will reſpect and love him as their Guardian, their Common Father, their Friend ; and inſtead of any uneaſie Fear of Him, they will be in perpe- tual Fear for Him; tender of his Life and his Perſon; and in mighty Pain and Solicitude, left any Ill ſhould happen to either; conſequently they will be Zealous in his Defence, firm to all his Intereſts, averſe and implacable to his Ene- mies. This then is the Leſſon, in which all Princes ſhould be perfect; To get themſelves well inform'd of all that is done; Not to proſecute every Crime they know ; Nay, ma- ny times to act, and manage themſelves, as if they knew it not ; To be better ſatisfied with the Character of having found their Subjects made Good to their Hands, than that of having reform'd and made them ſo by any Rigours of * Severitas amittit aſſiduitate Authoritatem. ... Temperatus Timor eſt qui cohibet; Aſſiduus & acer in vin- dićtam excitat. i Firmiſſimum Imperium, quo obedientes gaudent. Tit. # - theif 364 Of Wiſdom. Book III. their own; Readily to extend their Grace to ſmall Faults, and where ſuch eaſineſs may be inconvenient, to render heinous Offenders very exemplary, and make them ſmart ſeverely for their Inſolence and bold Contempt of the Laws. To confider, that frequent Executions are an Aſperſion to their Government; and bring as great a Scandal upon their Reign, as the Death of many Patients doth to the Practice of a Phyſician ; and therefore not to be fond of taking Men off upon every Provocation, but to content themſelves oftentimes with a Malefactor's Repentance; and eſteem the Senſe of his Guilt, his Shame, and Remorſe, and Self-con- demnation a Puniſhment ſufficient. i Relenting Miſery inclines the Brave; Conquerours are moſt triumphant, when they ſave ; 3uſtice and Mercy may ſuſpend their Strife, He ſuffers for his Crime, who yields to beg his Life. Nor is there any juſt Ground of that Apprehenſion, which ſome People very inconfiderately pretend, upon theſe Occa- fions; that ſuch Mercy will be taken for Tameneſs or Im- potence ; that it makes a Prince deſpicable in the Eyes of his People ; gives his Enemies Advantage, provokes turbu- lent Spirits to inſult, and looſens the Nerves of Govern- ment : . For the Effect is really quite contrary. Such Mildneſs is a mighty ſtrengthening to , a Prince ; adds Vigour and Efficacy to his Commands, and wonderfully rai- ſes his Reputation. A Prince, that is well belov'd, ſhall be able to do more with the Hearts of his Subječts, than all the Awe and Terror in the World ; This may put Men in- to trembling and aſtoniſhment, but it gives them no true Principle of Obedience; and as Saluſt argued in his Oration to º: ſuch Governments are never Stable and of long Con- tinuance, becauſe they are built upon an ill bottom. Whoever he be,that is feared by a great many, hath a great many whom he hath reaſon to be afraid of too. The Fear, which he ſheds down upon all about him, daſhes back again upon his own Head. Such a ſort of Life is full of Anxieties and Miſgivings; and a Man is ſurrounded with Dangers, that threaten him continually from every Quarter. It is true indeed, this Clemency ought not to be extended without + Ignoſcere pulchrum, Jam miſero, poenaeq; genus widiſſe precantem. any Ch. 2. Of Prudence in Government. 365 any Diſtinétion ; Judgment, as was ſaid in the beginning of the Paragraph, muſt direct and determine it. For, as it is a Virtue, and that which attracts the profoundeſt Venerati- on, when judiciouſly managed ; ſo is it a Vice of moſt per- nicious Conſequence, when degenerating into ſoft and eaſie Tameneſs. - After theſe Four Principal Virtues, which are the brighteſt |. in a Prince's Diadem, there follow ſome others of a econd Form ; and theſe, though inferiour to the former in Luſtre, have yet their juſt Value, and are neceſſary and uſeful, though not ſo abſolutely, and in ſo high a degree. Liberality for inſtance, which is ſo much more ſuitable to a Prince's Character, as it is a greater Reflection upon him to be vanquiſh'd by Bounty and Magnificence, than to be worſted in the Field. But here too, there is great need of Diſcretion; for, where That is wanting, this Quality will be apt to do more Hurt than Good. There are two Kinds of Liberality. The one conſiſts in Sumptuouſneſs and Shew ; and this is to very little purpoſe. It is certainly a very idle and vain Imagination, for Prin- ces to think of raiſing their Character, and ſetting them- ſelves off by Auguſt, and Splendid, and expenſive Appear- ances ; eſpecially too among their own Subjects, where they can do what they pleaſe, and are ſure to have no Rival of their Grandeur. This ſeems rather a Mark of a little Soul; an Argument, that they want a due Senſe of what they really are, and is both beneath Them to do, and very un- acceptable to their People to ſee. For, however for the preſent Subjects may gaze at their Pomps with Delight, yet aſſoon as the Entertainment is over, they preſently be- gin to reflect, that Their Princes are thus enrich'd and adorn'd with Their Spoils ; that This is no better than being ſumptuouſly feaſted at Their Coſt ; and that the Money, which now feeds their Sight with Triumphs and Gaudy Greatneſs, is pinch'd from more neceſſary Occaſions, and wou'd have been much better ſav'd to feed their Bellies. And beſides all this ; a Prince ſhould be ſo far from Laviſh and Profuſe, that he ſhould make great Conſcience of Frugali- ty; for indeed he ſhould think nothing he enjoys ſtrictly his own ; ſince engag'd in a Truſt, that requires his All, his very Life and Perſon to be devoted to the Good of others. The Second ſort of Liberality is that which conſiſts in diſtributing Gifts, and making Preſents: Of This indeed there is confiderable Uſe, and a juſt Commendation due to 1E. * 3. Liberal;t}, of twº Kiadr, 366 Of Wiſdom. Book III. it. But then this muſt be diſcreetly manag'd too; and good Care ſhould always be taken, To what Perſons, in what Proportions, and after what Manner this is done. As to the Perſons, They ought to be well choſen, ſuch whoſe Merits recommend them to their Bounty ; ſuch as have been ſerviceable to the Publick; ſuch as have hazarded their Fortunes and their Perſons, and run thro' the Dangers and Fa- tigues of War. Theſe are ſuch Perſons, as none but the Un- thinking or the very Ill-natur'd can grudg any thing to, or envy the Favour, ſo as to repreſent the Prince as Partial or Undiſtinguiſhing in his Liberality. Whereas, quite otherwiſe, great Gratuities diſtributed without any regard to Merit, and where there really is none, derive Shame and Odium upon the Receiver; and are entertain'd without thoſe due Acknowledgments, and that grateful Senſe, which the Fa- vours of a Prince ought to find. Some Tyrants have been ſacrific'd and given up to the Rage and Spite of an incens'd Rabble, by thoſe very Servants whom they had raisd from Nothing; while theſe Creatures of theirs have been as much diverted with their Maſters Misfortunes, as any of their Enemies, and have taken this Courſe to ingratiate them- ſelves with the Mobb, and for ſecuring their own Fortunes, by giving Demonſtrations of the Hatred and Contempt to the Perſon, frcm whom thoſe Fortunes were entirely deriv'd. Nor is it leſs neceſſary, that the Proportion of a Prince's Liberality ſhould be ſtrictly regarded ; for otherwiſe this may run out into ſuch Squandering and Exceſs, That both the Giver and the Government may be impoveriſh'd and brought to Ruine by it. For, to give to every body, and upon every Occaſion, is to play with a loſing Hand, and till all's gone. Private Men are for making their Fortunes, and it is not poſſible to ſatisfie them ; they will ſoon grow extravagant in their Requeſts, if they find their Prince to be ſo in his Favours ; and the Rule they Meaſure by, is not Reaſon, but Example; not how much is fit to be granted to Them, but how much hath already been granted to Others. However, by this Means the Publick Treaſures will be exhauſted ; and a King be neceſſitated to ſeize other Peoples Rights, that ſo Injuſtice and Oppreſſion may heal and reimburſe thoſe Wants, which Ambition and Prodigality have created. Now, it were infinitely better to give nothing * Quod Ambiticne exhauſtum, per Scelera ſupplendum. 3t Chap. 1. Of Prudence in Government. 367 at all, than to take away from one to give to another. For after all our Kindneſs, the Gratitude and Affection of thoſe that are obliged by us, never makes ſo deep Impreſſions, nor ſticks half ſo cloſe, as the Reſentmcnts of them, that have been injur'd and plunder'd. Beſides, This Profuſeneſs is its own Deſtruction, for the Spring cannot run always; if you draw too faſt, it will ſoon be drain'd dry. * B, being Liberal, ſays St. Jerom, Man makes it impoſſible to be ſo. For a farther Prevention whereof, as well as upon, other very good Confiderations, it will be convenient to ſpin out ones Liberality; to let it come gently and by degrees, rather than to give all we intend at once. For that which is done on the ſudden, and at a heat, be the thing never ſo confi- derable in itſelf, yet paſſes off, as it were inſenſibly, and is quickly forgotten. All things that have a grateful Re- liſh ſhould be contriv'd to be as ſlow and leiſurely in the Paſſage, as can be ; that ſo the Palate may have time to taſt them : but, on the contrary, all thoſe Diſpenſations that are harſh, and ſevere, ( when Occaſions call for any ſuch ) ſhould be diſpatch'd with all poſſible Convenience, that ſo, like bitter Potions, they may be ſwallow'd at once. Thus you ſee, that the Giving as becomes one, is an Aćt of Prudence, and the Exerciſe of Liberality to the beſt Ad- vantage, requires great Addreſs and Skill. To which pur- oſe Tacitus hath this notable Remark, t Thoſe Perſºns (ſays. . are under a mighty Errour, who know not how to diffin- guiſh between Liberality and Luxury; abundance of Men know How to ſpuander, that do not know how to give. And to ſpeak the very Truth, Liberality is not a Virtue peculiar to King's and milder Governments only, but very conſiſtent even with Tyranny it ſelf. And ſurely the Tutors and Gover- nors of young Princes are much in the wrong, when they labour to poſſeſs their Minds with ſuch ſtrong and early Impreſſions of Giving; of refuſing nothing that is ask'd of them ; of thinking nothing ſo well employ'd, as what they give to their Friends. This is the Jargon uſual in ſuch Ca- ſes. But either This ſeems to proceed from ſome Advan- tage theſe Inſtructors deſign to make of ſuch a Principle hereafter, or for want of due regard to the Perſon they ad- * Liberalitate Liberalitas perit. t Falluntur, quibus Luxuria Specie Liberalitatis imponit, per- dºre multi ſciunt, donare neſciuat. - dreſs 368 Of Wiſdom. Book III. 14. Magnani- mity. dreſs themſelves to. For a too governing Notion of Libera- lity is of very ill Conſequence, in a Perſon, whoſe For- tunes are ſo plentiful, as to ſupply the Expences of others, at what rate himſelf ſhall think fit. And of the Two Ex- tremes, though either of them are very far from Good, yet a Prodigal or a Giving Prince, he that ſpends upon his own Vanities, or he that feeds thoſe of his Servants and Favourites, without Diſcretion and due Meaſure, is a great deal worſe than a Stingy One, that keeps his Hand ſhut to all. And, whereas theſe frequent Boons are pretended of Uſe to make Friends, and ſecure the Service and Af- fection of thoſe who are obliged by them : There is very little or nothing of Subſtance in this Argument; For im- moderate and undiſtinguiſhing Liberality encourages every body to ask and to expect, and ſo for One Friend, makes Ten Enemies, in Proportion as the Repulſes muſt needs be more frequent, than the Grants. But indeed, if it be wiſely and well regulated, it is undoubtedly, as I ſaid before, ex- ceeding Graceful and Commendable in a Prince, and may prove of Excellent Advantage, both to Himſelf and to the State. - Another very becoming Virtue is Magnanimity. That I mean more peculiarly, which conſiſts in a Greatneſs of Spirit not eaſily to be provoked, ſuch as deſpiſes and can paſs over Injuries and Indecencies, and moderate his An- ger when it begins to fly out. * A Great Fortune and Dig- nity ſhould have a Noble Mind; ſuch as can look down upon Wrongs and Provocations, as Matters a great way below it, and not worth its Notice ; and Majeſty ſhould conſider that there are not many Offences which will juſtifie a Prince's being angry. Beſides, to fret and be concerned, is often interpreted for Conſciouſneſs of Guilt ; and that which a Man makes ſlight of, blows quickly over, and ſeldom ſticks long. So ſays the wiſe Roman, t If Reproaches put you in a Paſſion, the World will look upon this as a ſort of Confeſſion : But if you diſregard them, they vaniſh and die without doing any manner of Preju- dice. But then, if any Provocation be given, which mini- ſters juſt and ſufficient Cauſe to be angry, let thoſe Re- ſentments be expreſs'd openly without labouring to conceal * Magnam Fortunam magnus Animus decet. —Injurias & Offenſiones ſuperne deſpicere.----Indignus Cæſaris irã. - f Convitia ſi iraſcere, agnita videntur; ſpreta exoleſcunt. - or Ch. 2. Of Prudence in Government. 369 or to diſſemble them; that the People about him may have no reaſon to ſuſpect any thing of a Secret Grudge, or a Miſchievous Deſign in him. For theſe are Qualities for the meaneſt and baſeſt ſort of People, and Symptoms of a Malicious, Deviliſh and Incurablé Diſpoſition. '.' Pitiful Fellows and Unreclaimable Prºctehes keep Malice in their Heart: (ſays Tacitus) and to feed upon a Grudge is an evident Mark of Baſemeſ, and Barbarity. Of the two, the giving Offence and doing an Ill thing is leſs diſagreeable to the Character of a Great Man, than the Hating and Maligning of others for doing ſo to Him. And thus I have done with the Head of Virtue ; the other Branches of it in general being not ſo properly diſtinguiſhing Properties and peculiar Ornaments of the Royal Dignity, as Excellencies lying in common be- tween Princes and the reſt of Mankind. - The next thing that comes under our Conſideration after ..., 'S'. the Prince's Virtue, is what they call his Manner, that is, The third his Behaviour and Way of Living ; the Mien, the Port, the # - Addreſs, that ſure with the Majeſty of a Prince; and all “” thoſe profound Reſpects ſo neceſſary to be kept up. Upon this I ſhall not inſiſt at all, only, by the way as it were, touch upon it. Now though Nature contribute a great - deal to this in the Form, and Temper, and Perſon, yet all that Nature does is capable of Amendment and Im- provement both, by the additional Helps of Induſtry and Art. Under the Head we are now upon, may be reckoned the Air of his Face, the Compoſure of his Countenance, his Faſhion and Beháviour, his Gate, his Tone, and man- ner of Speech, his Clothes and Dreſſing. The general Rule to be obſerved in all theſe Particulars, is ſuch a Mixture of Sweetneſs and Moderation , of Stayedneſs and Gravity, as may win upon Mens Minds, and move their Affections plea- ſingly; ſuch as may keep the middle Way between Familiarity and Fear, engage their Love, and yet command their Ho- nour and Reſpect. His Court and Converſation are likewiſe worth taking notice of For the former, it is convenient that it ſhould be very publick, that the Palace he dwells in ſhould be Noble and Magnificent, fit for Reſort and Correſpondence; and if that can be well contriv'd, not far from the Middle of his Country, or, at leaſt, the . ... Obſcuri & irrevorabiles reponunt odia. Seva Cogitationis indicium ſecreto flio ſatiari moſt - 37 o Of Wiſdom. Book III. I6. The fourth Head. Counſel. moſt ſignificant Part of it ; that ſo his Eye may com- mand all the Quarters; arid Jike the Sun in the midſt of the Firmament, perce, enlighten and warm all round about him, with the Influence of his Beams. For when a Prince reſides in ſome very remote Corner of his Dominions, this Diſtance emboldens thoſe in the contrary Extremity to behave themſelves inſolently, and grow Tumultuous and Unruly. As for his Converſation, That ſhould be very re- ſerved, his Confidents and familiar Friends but few, his Progreſſes and other Appearances in publick but ſeldom ; that the People may always be eager and glad to ſee him : For the ſhewing himſelf often, and giving too eaſie Acceſs to his Perſon, will mightily leſſen the Majeſty of his Character. * The being always admitted to the Sight and Preſence of Grett Perſons, does mightily impair and diminiſh our Reſpect, by Glutting our Curioſity, ſays one of the Rºman Hiſtorians: And another to this purpoſe : i Mijaſty is always mºſt reverenc'd at a diſt ince : for Nature forms all our I- dea's bigger than the Life ; and what we are not acquainted with, is always fancy'd to be very Great and Stately. After the Three Things already treated of, The Know- lege of his People and Government, the Virtues of his Mind, and the Faſhion and Addreſs of the Prince ; all which are inſeparable from his own Perſon ; The next things we are led to conſider, are ſuch as are near and about his Perſon. And therefore in the fourth place, let us ſay ſomewhat concerning his Counſel, which, in truth, is the main Point of all this Head, which relates to his Politicks, and of Conſequence ſo vaſt, that it is in a manner All in All. For Counſel is the Soul of any Go- vernment; the Spirit that infuſes Life and Motion, Energy and Vigour into all the reſt. And upon the Account of This it is, that the Management of Affairs conſiſts in Prudence ; loc- cauſe Hands are of no Significance at all, till the Heads have cut them out their Work, and preſcrib'd their Me- thods. It were indeed to be wiſh'd, That a Prince were chrich'd with ſo great a Stock of Prudence and Conſide- ration, as to be able himſelf to govern, and diſpoſe, and Continuus Aſpectus minis verendos magnos homines ipſi ſatietate facit. Liv. f Majeſtati major ex longinquo Reverentia; quia omne igno- turn pro magnifico eſt. con- Chap. 2. Of Prudence in Government. 371 - - contrive every thing, without calling in Help from abroad ; - This is ſuch a Sufficiency, as the firſt Chapter of this Book obſerved to be the Nobleſt Perfection, and higheſt Degree of Wiſdom; and no Queſtion can be made, but that Matters would be better order'd, and more ſucceſsfully diſpatch'd if it could be ſo. But this is an Accompliſhment mecrly ima- ginary, no Inſtance of it is to be found in Nature ; whether it be, that Princes want the Advantage of Good Temper, or Good Inſtruction. And indeed, let Nature be never ſo boun- tiful, and Education never ſo proper, yet it is ſcarce poſſi- ble to ſuppoſe That all the Parts, and all the Improve- ments in the World could ever qualifie one ſingle Head for the Comprehending and Direction of ſuch infinite Variety of Buſineſs. * No Prince, ſays Tacitus, can have a Reach ſo great, as to be Maſter of all his Concerns : mo one Mind is frong enough to carry ſo great a Burden, A ſingle Man hears and ſees but very little in Compariſon ; But Kings have need of abundance of Eyes and Ears to aſſiſt and give In- telligence. Great Weights and great Undertakings can on- ly be made light by a Multitude of Hands. And therefore it is abſolutely neceſſary for a Prince to provide himſelf with good Advice, and with Perſons every way capable of giving it; for as the Caſe ſtands, and the Intrigues of Government are perplex'd, he that will take upon him to do all of his own Head, ſhall much ſooner fix upon him- ſelf the Character of Pride and Conceitedneſs, than gain the Reputation of Wiſdom. A Prince then, of all Men, hath moſt need of faithful Friends, and diligent Servants Liz. who may aſſiſt him in his Difficulties, and caſe him of part of his Cares. Theſe are the real, the moſt valuable Trea- ſures of a King, and the moſt uſeful Inſtruments to the Pub- lick: And therefore the firſt and great Care muſt be, to make a wife Choice of Aſſiſtants, and employ the utmoſt Ap- Plin. plication, and bend all one's Judgment to have ſuch as are excellent and proper for a Poſt of ſuch vaſt Importance. Now of theſe Aſſiſtants, there are two ſorts ; One that contribute their Advice, and Project only ; and theſe employ Xenoch. their Wit, and their Tongue ; and are in ſtrict propriety of f Speech, Counſellors; the Other are concern'd in the exe- cutive part, they lend us their Hands, and their Pains, and Tacit. * Nequit Princeps ſui ſcientii cuneia completti ; necunius Mens tantic molis eſt capax, B b 2. theſe 372 of Wiſhm. Book III. Plato. Ariſtot. 17. &ualifica- tions of Counſellors. theſe are more properly ſtyled Officers. Of theſe the for- mer ſort are in much the more Honourable Character : For thus the two great Philoſophers have declared their O- pinion, that it is a moſt Sacred and Divine Accompliſh- ment, to confider judiciouſly, and be able to adviſe well. Now in Perſons thus to be choſen and employed, ſeveral Qualifications are neceſſary : As, firſt of all, It is ne- ceſſary to chooſe ſuch as are Faithful, and fit to be truſted ; that is, in one Word, Men of Virtue and good Principles. * I take for granted, (ſays Pliny) that the better Man any one is, the more ſtanch and true he is, and more ſafe to be de- pended upon. Secondly, They muſt be Perſons of Ability, and proper for this Office, not only in regard of their Know- ledge and Learning in general, but upon the Account of their Skill in Politicks, and that expreſs Form of Govern- ment in particular; ſuch as have been uſed, and try’d be- fore, and have come off with Honour and Succeſs, verſed in Buſineſs, and accuſtom'd to Difficulties: For Hardſhips and Adverſities are the moſt uſeful and improving Leſſons. † Fºrtune, ſays one, in the room of many Advantages which ſhe hath torn from me, hath given me the Faculty of Advice and Perſuaſion. And in one Word, They muſt be wiſe and diſcreet, moderately quick, not too ſprightly and ſharp; for ſuch Men will be always projecting. And ... Men of Fire are more for Change, than ſteady Management. Now in order to theſe Qualifications, it is neceſſary that they ſhould be Men of ripe Years, to give them Stayedineſs, Experience, and Conſideration ; nay, I may add, to inſpire them with Caution too ; for it is one of the many Unhappineſſes attending Youth, that Perſons then are eaſily impoſed up- on; of which the Tenderneſs and Softneſs of their Brain may perhaps be one reaſon, as that may diſpoſe them the more eaſily to receive any Impreſſion, and conſequently to Credulity and Eaſineſs of Temper. It is for the Conveni- ence of a Prince to have notable Men of all ſorts about him ; both thoſe, who are called ſo upon the account of their Wiſdom, and thoſe that excel in Subtlety and Cun- * Optimum quemgue fideliſſimum puto. + Mihi Fortuna multis rebus ereptis uſum dedit bene ſuaden- di. Mithr. in Saluſ;. - . . . Novandis quam gerendis rebus aptiora ingenia illa ignea. - * Curtius ning. Ch. 2. Of Prudence in Government. 373 ning. The former indeed ought to be more numerous, and are more eſpecially requiſite, becauſe they are more for the Honour of their Maſter, and of more conſtant uſe; for theſe are the Managers of all regular and ordinary Proceedings. The Men of Art are for Caſes of neceſſity and extraordinary Emergencies, to help at a Pinch, and to coun- termine a Danger. A Third Qualification neceſſary for Counſellors, is Open- neſs, and Freedom, and Courage in all their Behaviour, when conſulted with. They muſt uſe their utmoſt Care, that all their Propoſals be for the Honour and Advantage of their Prince; and, when once they have ſecured this Point, that the Advice be wiſe and good, all Flattery and Diſguiſe ſhould be laid aſide; all Equivocatings, and Re- ſervations, and Craftineſs of Expreſſion deteſted and deſpi- ſed, by which they may ſeem to aim at ingratiating them- ſelves, or to contrive that what they ſay may be accepta- ble to their Maſter. Theſe are the Men Tacitus deſcribes, who accommodate all their Language as they ſee occaſion, and do * not ſo properly d fºcuſe with their Prince, as with his preſent Inclinations and Circumſtances. They confider him as a Great Man, as one able to make their Fortunes; they obſerve what he would do, not what is beſt and fit- reſt for him to do. Whereas indeed all theſe Regards ought to be utterly baniſhed their Thoughts; they ſhould have a conſtant Eye upon the Sacredneſs of their Office, and the Importance of the Truſt repoſed in them ; and, looking no farther than the Reaſon, and Juſtice, and Convenience of the thing, ſpeak the Truth and ſpare not : For howe- ver harſh and diſtaſteful this Liberty, and Openncſs, and honeſt Blunt-dealing may be at the preſent to thoſe Per- ſons, whoſe Opinion and Inclinations it happens to croſs; yet there will ſoon come a time, when it will Chtain Re- ſpect and Eſteem. , t Oppoſition is offenſive juſt at the In- fiant ; but upon cooler Thoughts, the very Perſons you oppoſed, will commend and admire your plain-dealing. A Man ſhould likewiſe take care to be conſiſtent with himſelf, firm to his Principle, without veering and wheeling about perpetually, t - i Ne cum Fortuna potius Principis loquantur, quam cum 1p10. t. In præſentia quibus reſiſtis, offendis; deinde illis ſuſpicitur laudaturque. - - - Bb 3 33. 374 Of Wiſhm. Book III. as of: as other People's Humours ſhift into a freſh Quarter. But as he muſt not be changable and obſequious in a baſe compliance with the Paſſions or Pleaſures of others, ſo neither muſt he be ſtiff and peremptory in his own Opi- nions. There is always a Decency to be obſerved, and great Difference to be made, between Conſtancy and Con- tradićtion. For Opiniatrety and Fierceneſs confounds all manner of Deliberation ; and therefore I am far from de- ſiring my good Counſellor to be inflexible; as knowing very well, that hearkening to other Men's Reaſons, and changing our own Opinions upon them, is ſo far from de- ſerving the Reproach of Raſhneſs or Inconſtancy, that it ought rather to be ſooked upon as a Teſtimony of Mode- ſty and Ingenuity, and great Prudence: For * although the wiſe Man always walk in the ſame Way, and by the ſame Rule, yet he does not always go the ſame Pace, nor tread in the ſame Steps ; Change he does not then, ſo properly as accom- modate and mend himſelf; Like the skilful Sailor, who plies to every Wind, and whoſe Excellency lies in trimming the Sails that way that the Gale blows freſheſt. Thus a Man muſt oftentimes go about to make the Port he deſigns, when there is no coming at it by a ſtreight Courſe. And it ſhews the Dexterity and Addreſs of a Counſellor, to be able to change his Methods, when thoſe which were firſt choſen are either diſapproved, or by ſome Accident rendred uſeleſs and ineffectual. - Another neceſſary Accompliſhment for this Poſt, is the making a Conſcience of Revealing any Debates he ſhall be privy to. For Silence and Secreſie are exceeding ne- ceſſary in the management of all Publick Affairs : Info- much that a great Author hath pronounced it impoſſible for that Man to manage any matter of Conſequence, who is not ſo much Maſter of himſelf as to keep his own Coun- ſel. f. For how ſhould he ſupport the weight of Publick Buſineſs, to whom even Silence is a Burden P But upon this Occaſion the concealing what one knows is not ſufficient, I muſt likewiſe caution him againſt knowing too much. A Curious and Inquiſitive Temper, which loves to be bu- ſie, and inform it ſelf of other Peoples Actions and Con- cerns, is no commendable Quality in any caſe ; but to pry * Non ſemper it uno gradu,ſed unfi via : non ſe mutat,ſed aptat. f Res magnæ fuitinere nequeunt ab eo, cui tacere grave eſt. - 1Ilto Chap. 2. Of Prudence in Government. 375 \ into the Affairs of Princes, and value one's ſelf upon know- ing Their Secrets, is as dangerous as it is unmannerly : And as Tacitus hath well obſerved, * Nothing is more hazār- dous, nothing more unfit for us, than officiouſly to dive, and be bold with their retired Thoughts and Intentions. And therefore, whatever a Man knows of this kind ſhould come freely and without his ſeeking ; nay, I make no difficulty to affirm, that it is commendable in a Man to de- cline the Opportunities of having ſuch things imparted to him, and to know as little of them as poſſibly he can. This argues Reverence and Modeſty, prevents all Jea- louſie, and ſures the diſtance between a Prince and his Subječts. - Thus I have given my Reader a ſhort Account of thoſe good Conditions which ſeem neceſſary for the qualifying Men to be Counſellors of State. And by theſe he will be able to tell himſelf, what are thoſe ill Qualities, which incapacitate a Man for ſuch a Truſt. That a Prince in making his Choice, ſhould be ſure to reječt all ſuch as are of Confident, Aſſuming, Preſumptuous Tempers ; becauſe theſe Vices make Men hot, and arrogant in Debates, poſi- tive and bold in their own Senſe: And a Wife Man, quite contrary, will be content to allow Second and Third Thoughts; to examine every thing over and over. It is the Character of ſuch a one to ſuſpect himſelf, to be jea- lous of the Conſequence, fearful in adviſing and reſolving, that ſo he may afterwards be more vigorous and aſſured, when he comes to execution. † For the Mind that Kºerstä how to be afraid, and undertakes warily, wiłł act more ſecure- ly, and go upon ſirer Ground, Fools, quite contrary, are eager and aſſured, blind and bold in Bebate; but when they come to A&tion, cowardly and tame. ... Advice given with Hear and Confidence looks fair and gay at firſt tight; but the execution of it is hard and deſperate, and the Event full ºf Grief and Diſappointment. Next to this preſumptuous Vanity and Heat, Paſſion is improper for ſuch Miniſters of State; Ali Anger and Envy, Hatred and Spight, Avarice and Ambition, all Selfiſh Narrowneſs of Spirit, and private * Exquirere abditos Principis ſenſus illiciturn & anceps. Tarit. f Nam Animus verexi qui ſcit, ſcit tuto aggredi. ... Conſilia calida & audacia prima ſpecie Izta fant, traćtatu clata, eventu triſtia. B b 4 Intereſt; 376 of Wiſdom. Book III. 17. Intereſt ; for theſe are all of them Corrupters of the beſt Senſe, the very Bane of all ſound Judgment; Integrity, and faithful Diſcharge of a publick Character cannot dwell in the ſame Breaſt, with theſe perſonal Piques, and private Af- feótions. *Private Advantage ever did, and ever will ob- fºruči and confound publick Counſel; ; and each ſingle Man's Profit, is that which Poiſons all good Senſe, and kind Inclina- tion to the Common Good. One Thing more remains abſolutely Neceſſary to be a- voided, and that is Precipitation ; An irreconcilable Ene- my to Prudence and good Counſel; and fit for nothing but to put Men upon doing amiſs, and then being aſhamed and * upon that Account. And thus much ſhall ſuffice at Preſent for a Deſcription of thoſe Qualities, which ought to concur, and the Vices and Defeóts which muſt be de- clin'd in order to the accompliſhing Men for Counſellors of State. - Now, ſuch as theſe it is the Prince's Buſineſs to employ ; and thoſe are the Rules, by which his Choice ought to be directed. For his own Perſonal Knowledge of Perſons ſo qualified will be the greateſt Security he can have; but if he be not capable of making the Diſtinétion himſelf, nor can with Safety rely upon his own Judgment in the Caſe, then Reputation and common Fame is what he muſt be contented with. And upon ſuch Occaſions a general Character ſeldom leads us into great Miſtakes; for which Reaſon one defir’d his Prince, That he would look upon him and his Brethren in Office to be ſuch, as the PWorld eſteem'd them. For Hypocri- fie is but a particular Thing, and of a very limited extent, # Single Men may deceive and be deceiv'd; but never did any Man deceive all the Wºrld, nor was ever any Man miſtaken in all the World. Great Care ſhould be taken upon this Occaſion, that a Prince do not truſt himſelf with Flatterers and fawn- ing Paraſites, with particular Favourites, Court-Officers, and mercenary Wretches, whoſe Confidence is a Reproach to their Maſter ; and will be his Ruine, when they can have a good Price for betraying him. For after all ; the Cabal, and the Cabinet is the Foundation of moſt Monarch's un- * Private res ſemper oftecere officientg; publicis confiſiis; Peſſimum veri affeºttis & jºidicii venenum ſua cuiq; Utilitas. f Nain linguli decipere & decipi poſſunt; memo cmnes, ne- tnineſſ, ctities fefellerant e. - - - deing: Ch. 2. Of Prudence in Government. doing: We ſee it not, till it comes upon the open Stage; but there it begun, and from thence it moves and works under Ground, long before the World can diſcern it. Now, when a Prince hath made this Choice, and found Perſons for his Purpoſe, the next thing incumbent upon him is to make a Wiſe Uſe of them. And That is to be done, by conſulting them early and in a Seaſon proper for Delibera- tion ; not driving all off, till the very Inſtant of Action, when the Time is too ſhort for debate, and cool Conſidera- tion ; nor, on the other Hand, Trifling and loſing Time in hearing their tedious Diſputes, when his Affairs require a ſpeedy Reſolution. Again, This Advice of theirs muſt be attended to with a Judicious Reſerve; he muſt not give himſelf blindly up to it, and follow their Determinations Right or Wrong, as that very weak Emperor Claudius is ſaid to have done : And he muſt likewiſe temper this Di- ſcretion with Moderation and Gentleneſs, without being too ſtiff and inflexible in his own Senſe: Since, generally ſpeak- ing, that Remark of the wiſe Marcus Antoninus holds good, who ſays it is better for one Man to come over, and to comply with the Advice of a great many good Friends, than that all their Opinions ſhould be ſet aſide, and they forced to truckle to his ſingle Arbitrary Pleaſure. I cannot but appre- hend it of great Advantage in this Caſe, to keep a Man's ſelf pretty looſe, and uſe ones Counſellors, with a ſort of Authority mix d with Indifference. My Meaning is, Not immediately to reward Men for their good Counſel; be- cauſe ſuch preſent Pay will be a Temptation to ill Men to thruſt themſelves forward in adviſing; and ſo that which is really bad, will be put upon him in hopes of a Reward; Nor on the other Hand to diſcountenance or uſe Men roughly for counſelling amiſs; Becauſe this will create a Shyneſs in all about him ; and no body will dare to adviſe freely if the delivering their Opinion ſhall expoſe them to Danger and Diſgrace. And beſides, The Judgment of good and bad Counſel is very uncertain, becauſe it uſually pro- ceeds upon the Iſſue. Whereas the moſt injudicious Coun- ſels have often ſucceeded as well or better than the Wiſeſt, by a ſtrange over-ruling Power of Providence, thus aſſert- ing its Government of us, and all our Affairs here below. And again, It ought to be remembred, that They, who give the beſt, that is, the ſafeſt and moſt proſperous Coun- ſel, are not upon that Account to be concluded our faithful- left Friends, nor beſt affected to our Intereſt ; for many times 373 Of Wiſdom. Book III. 19. Offcºrt. times They who love us beſt, may be miſtaken in their Meaſures; and they who wiſh us no Good, may yet put us in the way of a great deal. Nor ought a Prince to reſent Freedom and Plainneſs upon theſe Occaſions. For This in all Reaſon ought rather to be acceptable ; and a wiſe Man will keep a jealous Eye upon Flattering and Timorous Feliows, ſuch as make it their Buſineſs to ſooth his Hu- mors, and had rather ſee him periſh by falſe Meaſures, than diſguſt him to his own Advantage. And ſure if there be a Miſerable Creature upon Earth, it is that Prince, to whom no Body about him dares tell the Truth; he that muſt live by the help of other Peoples Senſes, and yet all who ſee and hear for him, are under a neceſſity of diſ- ſembling and diſguiſing in their own Defence, and dare ſhew him nothing as it really is. A Man * whoſe Ears, as Tacitus expreſſes it, are ſo oddly contriv'd, that all Sounds are harſh and grating, which tell profitable Truths ; and they never think themſelves entertain'd, but with ſuch pleaſing Words as are ſure to do Miſchief. The laſt Caution neceſſary for the making a good Uſe of Proper Counſellors, is, To con- ceal his own Opinion, and not determine Publickly what he approves moſt, or what he reſolves to do ; for when all is done, Secrecy is the very Life and Soul of Counſel; and + That Advice is always beft, which your Enemy knows nothing of, till the Execution declar'd what it was. As for the Officers, which come now to be next confl- dered ; by Theſe I mean ſuch as ſerve the Prince, and the Government, in ſome publick Truſt. And They ought to be made Choice of with great Diſcretion ; Perſons of Ho- nour and Virtue, well-deſcended, and whoſe Families are of Quality and Reputation in the World. It is reaſonable to believe, that Men of this Character will approve them- Helves beſt in their reſpective Stations; and That of Birth par- ticularly is ſo conſiderable a Qualification, that it is by no Means for the Honour of a Prince, or the Decency of his Court, that People of mean Extract ſhould be admit- red near his Perſon, and commiſſioned to preſide over others, except ſome very great and remarkable Merit, give them -- * Cujus Aures ira formate ſtint, ut aſpera que utilia ; & nil niſi iucundum & leſurum recipiant. ł Nulla meliora conſilia, quam quie ignoraverit adverſarius antequam fierent. - a juſt Chap. 1. Of Prudence in Government. 7 . a juſt and viſible preference, and make amends for the want of Quality and Deſcent. But Men of Infamous Lives, Falſe and Baſe; Men of no Principles, or of ſuch as are Dangerous and Worſe than none ; in ſhort, Men under Cir- cumſtances, which either fix an odious Character, ſuch as the World have reaſon to hate, or to deſpiſe, to be aſham'd of, or to ſuſpect, ſhould not upon any Terms be admit- ted to any Office or Truſt. After theſe Conditions, as to their Morals, we muſt not forger, that as great a Regard is due to their Underſtandings. And that, not only to ſee, that they be Men of Parts and Judgment in general, but that each Perſon be diſpos'd of to ſuch an Employment, as beſt agrees with his own Genius and Atrainments in Par- ticular. For ſome are Naturally fitteſt for Military, and others for Civil Truſts. Some have thought it a general good Rule for Officers of all ſorts, to chooſe Men of a mild and gentle Diſpoſition, and moderate Character; for your violent and topping Spirits, that are full of themſelves, and cannot be prevail'd upon to yield to any, or quit the leaſt Punctilio, commonly ſpeaking, are not at all fit for Buſineſs. * Let the Perſons you employ be therefore a Match for their Buſineſs, and able to deal with it ; but not too much above, and able to play with it ; Men that know how to give and take their Due, but not ſuch as will ſacrifice the Publick to a Nice Point of Honour, and their own Unſeaſonable Vanity. Next after Counſel, we may very well be allowed to 2 or place Treaſures; for certainly theſe muſt be conſeſ, a ve- ºg ry great Point ; a uſeful, neceſſary, and powerful Proviſi-Haº. on. If Advice be the Head that ſees and directs, Money fºre. is the Nerves, the Hands, the Feet of the State, by which it moves, and acts, and is ſtrongly knit together. For when all is done, there is no Sword cuts deep, nor makes its own way through, like that with a Silver Edge. No Maſter is ſo Abſolute in his Commands, ſo readily o- bey'd ; No Orator ſo Eloquent, ſo Perſuaſive, ſo Winning upon the Wills and Affections of Men; no Conquerour ſo Succeſsful, or ſo great a Gainer by Storms, and Sieges, and force of Arms, as a good Purſe. This is ſerv'd with Zeal, and obeyed without Grudging ; this gets Poſſeſſion of Hearts, and draws the World after it ; this takes Towns and Ca- itles, without the Expence of Blood, or Time, or Hazard. - * * Ut pares negotiis, neque ſuprā; ſint reëti, non eretti. d f) º Of Wiſdom. Book III. 21. Fºndr. And therefore a Wiſe Prince will always think himſelf oblig'd to take care, that his Treaſury be in good Conditi- on ; and that he never be diſabled in this ſo very neceſſary, fo vital a Part of his Government. Now, the Art and the Care of effecting and ſecuring this, conſiſts in Three Particu- lars. The Firſt whereof concerns the providing good Funds; The Second in employing the Money ariſing from them to the beſt Advantage; and the Third in keeping a conſtant Reſerve, that he may never be deſtitute of a neceſſary Sup- ply, upon any ſudden Accident, or preſſing Qccaſion... And in all theſe Caſes, there are Two things, which the Prince muſt by all means look upon himſelf bound to avoid ; which are Injuſtice, and ſordid Frugality; for how Neceſ- ſary and Advantagious ſoever the Obſervation of theſe Rules may be, yet he muſt never purchaſe this Conveni- ence at ſo dear a Rate, as the Invaſion of other Men's Rights, or the loſs of his own Honour. or the Firſt of theſe, which relates to laying the Foun- dation as it were, and amaſſing together a ſufficient Trea- ſure, there are ſeveral Methods of doing it. Many Springs, which, like ſo many little Streams, contribute to the filling up this common Ciſtern ; but, though all of them pour in ſome, yet they do not all ſupply the ſame Proportion, nor are they all perpetual, or equally to be depended upon. For In- ſtance. One Fund is the Crown Lands,and Demeſnes, and o- ther ſtanding Revenues appointed to the Uſe of the Prince, for the Support of his Grandeur and Government. And theſe ought to be husbanded to the beſt Advantage, and kept up to their old Rents, and put into good Hands: They ſhould by no means be alienated without ſome very urgent Exigen- cy require it ; but look'd upon as things Sacred, and ſuch as in their own Nature are not transferrable to any other Owner. Another is, the Conqueſts made upon Enemies, which ſhould be ſo ordered, as to turn to good Account; and not ſquandered, and prodigally waſted, becauſe they are a ſort of additional Wealth, and when they are gone, the Prince is but where he was before. The Power of old Rome is in great Meaſure owing to their good Manage- ment in this Point : They always took Care to bring in vaſt Summs, not only to pay the Charge of the War, but to enrich and ſwell their Exchequers with the Wealth tranſ- ferred thither from the Towns they took, and the Coun- tries they vanquiſhed. This their Hiſtorian Livy tells us, was the Pračtice of their Braveſt and moſt Rcnown'd . - Ileſals, Ch. 2. Of Prudence in Government. 38. nerals, Camillus, Flaminius, AEmilius Paulus, the Scipies, Luculus, and Caeſar ; and not only ſo, but after this firſt drawing over their preſent Treaſures, they conſtantly im- º a Yearly Stipend to be paid ; either by the Natives eft upon their own Soil, under theſe and certain other Con- ditions ; or by thoſe Colonies of Romans, whom they tranſ- planted thither. But ſtill every Conqueſt brought ſome ſub- ſtantial Advantage to the Common-Wealth, and was more than an empty Name, and the meer Glory of the Thing. The Preſents, Free-Gifts, Penſions, Donations, and Grants, Tributes, Taxes, ariſing either from Friends, or Allies, or Subjects; Legacies and Bequeſts of the Dead, Deeds of Gift from Owners yet ſurviving, or any other manner of Conveyance : Tolls, and Impoſts, Cuſtoms upon Goods imported or exported, Commodities Foreign or Domeſtick, Duties upon Docks, and Havens, Ports and Rivers ; which hath been a general and very ancient Method of raiſing Mo- ney, as well upon Strangers as Natives ; and a very juſt, lawful, and beneficial Method no doubt it is, when limited with theſe Conditions; That no Proviſions or Other Goods, that are Neceſſaries of Life, ſhall be tranſported, ſo as to im- poveriſh the Country, and reduce the Subject to Streights : nor any raw Wares ; but that Materials of home-growth ſhould be likewiſe wrought up and finiſh'd at Home ; to find the Subjects Employment, and keep the poor and la- bouring People at Work, upon their own Manufacture; that ſo the Profit and Wages, as well as the Stuff might Centre and circulate among Natives ; and the Growth of One Nation not be transferr'd to the enriching of ano- ther. But now, when theſe Commodities are wrought and dreſs'd, there is good Reaſon for carrying them to foreign Mar- kets; as it is likewiſe Policy to import all the raw and unwrought Commodities, they can, and to prohibit all for reign and finiſh'd Manufactures ; becauſe in all theſe Caſes here is greater Encouragement, and Opportunity given for Labour. And it is alſo highly reaſonable in all Matters of Traffick, that a heavier Impoſition ſhould be laid upon trangers who trade among us, than the natural Subjects of he ſame Country. For all foreign Impoſitions bring large Summs into the Treaſury, and are a great Eaſe to the Su lºt, which is a Confideration always to be regarded; and ſº that Reaſon the Cuſtoms which are laid upon all ſuch III, Neceſſaries of Life, as are imported from abroad, ſhould be moderated, and brought as low, as poſſibly they can. Theſe of Wiſdom. Book III. VI. Theſe Four Methods already mention'd, are not only al- lowable, and convenient, but ſtričtly Juſt, and Equitable ; Honourable and Fair. The Fifth, which, I confeſs, is not altogether ſo agreable to Decency, and the Dignity of a Prince, is That of Trade, which is carried on for the Pro- fit of the Sovereign by means of his Factors, and hath feveral Methods of turning to Account, which are ſome leſs, and ſome more liable to Scandal; but the moſt Infa- mous and the moſt Deſtructive of all, is the ſetting to ſale Offices, and Honours, Preferments and Places of Truſt. There is indeed a Courſe not yet mention'd, which I think will come within the Notion of Trade ; and therefore I chooſe to name it under this Head, for the ſake of the Reſemblance it bears to the Subject now in Hand. This fath no great Matter of Indecency in it, and hath the Ex- ample of ſeveral very wiſe and eminent Princes to give it Countenance; It is the letting out the publick Money in Bank, upon a moderate Intereſt, (as Five in the Hundred Profit for inſtance) and ſecuring the Principal, either by an Equivalent in Pawns, or Mortgages, or elſe ſuch Perſonal Security, as is ſufficient and of unqueſtionable Credit. And theſe Loans are of great Advantage in Three Reſpects : For Firſt, They add greatly to the Wealth of any Go- vernment, by taking Care, that it ſhall always turn to freſh Account, and no part of it ever lie dead. Then Se- condly, It is a mighty Convenience to private Men, who by this means are ſure of a Fund to trade upon ; and can- not fail of being furniſhed in any Proportion which their Occaſions ſhall require, or which they can find ſuch Secu- tity as is fit to be accepted for. But the Third and greateſt Benefit of all is, That it keeps this Money out of the Paws of Sharpers, and ſaves that to the publick Uſe, which would otherwiſe become a Prize to the Importuni- ty, and nauſeous Flattery of hungry Courtiers, and be thus extorted from the good Nature of a King wearied into giving. And upon this laſt Conſideration ſingly, to ſave the Trouble of being importuned, and the Difficulties of denying ; ſome Princes have found it adviſable to lend out their ready Caſh without any Intereſt to be paid upon it purely for the ſake of ſecuring the Prime Summ, which they rook Care to do, by binding the Debtor in a Penalty of paying double, if he were not Punctual to his Day. The Sixth and Laſt Method is That of Loans and Subſidies extraordinary levied upon the Subject; and this - ſhould Chap. 2. Of Prudence in Government. 383 ſhou'd be a Reſerve for times of Neceſſity, a Remedy al- ways to be made uſe of with Reluctancy, and ſuch as is properly applyed, when other ſtated Methods fall ſhort, and the Exigence of Affairs calls for a larger Supply, than the former Particulars can furniſh out. In the Circum- ſtances of this Kind, no doubt can be made of the Juſtice of the Thing : But then to make this ſtill more eaſie and gentle to the Subject, it is not only requiſite, that the Ne- ceſſity of ſuch Supplies be evident, and the Publick Safety highly concern'd in them, but theſe following Conditions ſhould likewiſe concur to the ſoftning them. Firſt : That whatever Moneys are advanc'd upon Loans for the ſerving a preſent Occaſion, ſhould be afterwards punctually and ho- neſtly paid back again, as ſoon as the Difficulty is over, and the Occaſion ſerv'd. This we find practiſed by the Common-Wealth of Rome, when driven to Extremities by Hannibal. And at this Rate the Prince will never want Money ; for while the Exchequer keeps Touch and Credit, private Men will be pleas'd, nay proud to lend; not on- ly becauſe they think their Caſh depoſited in ſafe Hands, and can depend upon their own again with Advantage; but for the Honour and Reputation of having aſſiſted the Publick, and ſerv'd their Prince in a time of Diſtreſs. And this to generous Men is a Valuable, and will always be a Powerful Conſideration, where the Hazard and Fears of a Loſs do not check it. But Secondly, If the Publick Stock be drawn ſo low, that the Debt cannot be ſatisfied from thence, and ſome freſh czrraordinary Impoſition be neceſ- ſary, this ſhould by all Means be adjuſted and charged, with the Conſent of the Subjects, who are to contribute toward it ; The preſent Defects of the Treaſury fairly ſtated, the Occaſion that exhauſted it fully repreſented, and the People made truly ſenſible of the neceſſity they are under ; ſo preſſing upon them that Paſſage of the Bleſſed Saviour, the Gracious King of Kings, The Lord hath need of them ; for thus He in marvelous Condeſcen- fion was pleas'd to expreſs himſelf. And in ſuch Circum- ſtances, if the Caſe require it, and the Satisfaction of the People can be effectually conſulted upon thoſe Terms, it may be very adviſable to lay an Account of the Re- ceits and Expences before them. Perſuaſion and fair Means are always beſt employed in Matters of this Nature ; and to be driven to uſe Power and Conſtraint, is the laſt Unhap- pineſs that can happen to a Governor. Themiſivelcz was º, tătăly II. 384 Of Wiſdom. Book III. III. tainly in the right, when he thought it more for the Ho- nour of a Ruler * to gain his Point by Requeſt and Expo- fiulation, than by Commands. And, though it be true, that every Word of a Kingis full of Power and Force; and what he asks, his Character makes in effect a Command; yet ſtill it is more for the Advantage of the Publick and the Continuance of a mutual Affection and Good Underſtanding between Prince and People, that this kind of Supply ſhould run in the form of a free Gift; that the Subjećts ſhould expreſs their Senſe of the Publick Neceſſities; and deſire the Prince to accept what Relief they are capable of contributing toward it ; at leaſt, it is fit, that theſe extraordinary Taxes ſhould be limited to a certain Term, that they do not paſs into conſtant Payments, things of Courſe and Continuance, and that the Subječts never be preſcribed to in theſe Ca- ſes, without their own Approbation and Conſent. A Third Courſe to qualifie theſe Impoſitions, would be, to lay them not upon Perſons, but Eſtates; that Men may pay for what they have, and not for what they are. For a Poll- tax hath every where been looked upon as the moſt odi- ous of any ; it being indeed by no means juſt, that all ſhould be levelled, where Fortune hath made ſo vaſt a difference ; and while the Men of Wealth, and Honour, and Noble birth pay little or nothing, that the greateſt part of the Duty ſhould riſe upon poor Country. People, who work hard for their Living. But eſpecially ſhould all poſſible care be taken in the Fourth place, that ſuch Sub- fidies ſhould be levy'd fairly and equally. For the being rack't and ſcrew'd above one's proportion, is a very grating and intolerable thing , and breeds more murmuring and Contention, than the Charge it ſelf. Now in order to bring every body in, to bear a part in this common Bur- den, it will be convenient, to tax ſuch Proviſions with it, as all Mankind have occaſion for, and muſt make uſe of: Such as Salt, and Drink, and the like ; for thus the Exciſe will be univerſal; and every Member of the Publick Body will be inexcuſably obliged to contribute ſomething to the Pub- lick Neceſſity. Beſides theſe indeed there may, and it is but reaſonable there ſhould, be conſtant and heavy In- cumbrances laid upon ſuch Commodities, whether Foreign or Domeſtick, as are vicious in their uſe, and tend only to - * Impetrare melius eſt quam imperºre. - de- Ch. 2. Of Prudence in Government. 385 º* ,... - . : debauch the Subject ; and thus all thoſe things manifeſtly do, which ſerve only for Luxury and vain Pomp; ſuch as are purchaſed at dear Rates, merely out of extravagant Humour, or uſeleſs Curioſity ; all ſupérfluous State in Diet, Clothes, Equipage, the Inſtruments of Pleaſure, Corrupters of Manners, and whatever contributes to a Licentious way of Living. And the loading ſuch things with ſuch Impo- ſitions as ſhall make them yet more expenſive, may poſ- ſibly prove the beſt Method to diſcourage the uſe of them. For Men in the midſt of Luxury, will ſometimes be con- rent to ſave their Purſes, and abſtain upon a Conſideration of Tenderneſs in that reſpect; when their Conſciences would be ſo far from being reſtrain'd by Laws, that a poſitive Pro- hibition would rather ſet a ſharper Edge upon their Ap- petite, and make them but ſo much more impatient and ea- ger, to come at theſe things. The Second Branch of this Science, relating to the Pub- lick Treaſures, is the taking good Care that they be well employ'd. And to this Purpoſe I will here lay down a 22. II. The uſing the Trea- ſhort account of the ſeveral Heads of Expence, upon which Jure wei. a Prince muſt neceſſarily, and ought in Duty to make uſe of them. Such are, The Subſiſtence and honourable Sala- ries of the Houſhold, the Pay of the Soldiers, the Wages of Officers of all ſorts, the juſt Rewards of ſuch, as by their good Services have merited of the Publick; The Penſions and charitable Relief extended to thoſe who come well recommended, and are proper Objects of his Royal Bounty and Compaſſion. Theſe Five are conſtant and un- avoidable Occaſions. But then there are others too, very uſeful and fitting, tho' not ſo abſolutely and always neceſ- ſary, ſuch as the Reparation of old decay'd Towns, ſtrength- ening the Frontiers of his Country, amending the High- ways, and making Roads as direct and convenient as the Condition of the Place will bear; keeping up Bridges, and all other neceſſary Accommodations for Travellers ; found- ing Colleges for the ſtudy and improvement of Learning, and Religion, and Virtue ; Building and Endowing Hoſ- pitals for diſtreſſed and diſabled People, and erecting Pub- lick Halls, and other Structures, that are for the Honour and Service of the State. Theſe ſorts of Repairs, and Fortifications, and Foundations, are of cxcellent uſe and advantage, beſides the Profit which immediately redounds to the State in general by their means: For by promoting ſuch Deſigns, Art is *sº and improved, Workmen C 2Te 386 Of Wiſdom. Book III. are kept in Employment, the People are highly contented and pleaſed, and a great part of that Grudging and Re- pining uſual to the Commonalty, is prevented and cured, when they ſee their Taxes converted to ſo good uſes, and The Benefit comes back to them again : But eſpecially theſe two great Banes of any Commonwealth are by this means utterly baniſhed, the Plague of Idleneſs, and the Scandal of Poverty and Beggery.Whereas on the contrary, the conſuming the Publick Wealth in extravagant Gifts to ſome particular Favourites, in ſtately but unneceſſary Buildings, or in other vain Expences, for which there is no need, and whereof there can be no uſe, draws a general Odium and Indig- nation. For the Subječts cannot bear to , think that ſo many Thouſand ſhould be ſtripped to clothe and make one fan fine; that another ſhould ſtrut and look big with their Money; and that the great Houſes ſhould be built with their Blood, and the Sweat of their Brows: For ſuch as theſe are the grumbling Terms, in which the Vulgar, when provoked to diſcontent, murmur out their Reſentments; and nothing touches them ſo near as Money, and a Notion of Extravagance and Waſtfulneſs in the Diſpoſal of their Taxes. The Third and Laſt Part of this Advice conſiſts in ta king care to have a good Supply in reſerve for any ex- traordinary Exigence that may happen: That ſo, in Ca- ſes of neceſſity, a Prince may not be driven to ſudden and unjuſt Remedies, nor uſe Violence upon others to help him- ſelf. This Store thus laid up, and frugally managed for the Prince to draw out as he ſees fit, is the common No- tion of the Exchequer. Now in the management of this Article, there are two Extremes which muſt be both a- voided, becauſe cach of them is of very dangerous Con- ſequence to the Perſon that falls into it. The One is, That of immoderate Greedineſs in amaſſing prodigious Summs ; for ſuch Treaſures, tho' got by Methods never ſo juſt and honourable, are not always the moſt for a Prince's Securi- ty, when they are out of meaſure. They really very often involve him in Wars, either by putting him upon Oppreſ- fing and invading his weaker Neighbours, in confidence of his own Strength, and that the longeſt Purſe will be ſure to carry it at laſt ; or elſe they are a Bait to ſome Fneny to fall upon Him. And therefore it is much more for the Safety and Advantage, as well as for the Honour of 23. Siving a King, to convert them to ſuch uſes as have been already mentioned, than to let them grow exorbitantly great upon - his ; Chap. 2. Of Prudence in Government. 387 his hands, and ſo either tempt the Owner to Inſolence, or expoſe him for a Prey to thoſe who want ſuch Prize. The Other Extreme is ſpending all, and keeping nothing to help at a Pinch ; and This is worſe than the Former ; for ſuch a Governour ſtands naked and defenceleſs, and like a fooliſh Gameſter, plays away his laſt Stake. And therefore all wiſe Governours take care not to fall into this deſperate Condition. The greateſt Treaſures that Hiſtory informs us of in any Monarchy heretofore, were thoſe of Darius the laſt King of Perſia, in whoſe Exchequer Alexander the Great at the Conqueſt of his Country, is ſaid to have found Four- ſcore Millions of Gold. That of Tiberius amounted to Sixty Seven Millions. Trajan had Five and Fifty Millions laid up in Egypt. But that of David exceeds all the reſt; for (which is a thing almoſt incredible in ſo ſmall, and, in compariſon, deſpicable, a Dominion as that of 3 udra ) * the Holy Scripture it ſelf takes notice, that he had amaſſed toge- ther a Hundred and Twenty Millions. . . Now the Method in uſe heretofore, for j. theſe great Treaſures from being ſpent and ſquander'd away pro- fuſely, or being ſtoln, and ſecretly broke in upon, was to melt them down into large maſſy Ingots or Balls, as the Perſians and Rom ins were wont to do; or elſe to lay them up in the Temples of their Gods, as the ſecureſt and moſt ſacred Repoſitory, as the Grecians frequently did in the Temple of Apollo. Though this did not always ſuc- ceed to their Expectation; for Covetouſneſs of:en brºke through the moſt ſuperſtitious Reverence for their Deities, * What publick Treaſure for Civil Uſes, this Author re- fers to, I do not know, for want of his Marginal Quotati- ons, in which he is frequently defective ; but the Summ reſerved for building the Temple, is yet infinitely more ama- Zing: That in the XXII. of I Chronic. v. 14, is ſaid to be a Hundred Thouſand Talents of Gold; which, at the rate ºf Four Pound an Ounce, would be valued among us at Šventy Five Millions Sterling; and a Thouſand Thouſand alents in Silver, which at five Shillings per Ounce, comes 3.187 Millions 5coooo l. computing Seven Hundred and Fifty Ounces of Metal to each Talent. And beſides all this, is ſaid the Braſs and Iron were unmeaſurably great, * alſo the Stores of Timber and Stone left Solomon to be- gin with, sy. “ C c 2. and 388 Of Wiſdom. Book III. 24. The Sixth Head. Military Fºrce. –4 and plunder'd their very Gods themſelves, in deſpight and defiance of all their imaginary Thunder. Thus alſo the Romans held their Office of Exchequer in the Temple of Saturn. But that, which of all others ſeems to be not on- ly the ſafeſt, but the moſt gainful Courſe, is what I men- tioned before, of lending out theſe Summs to Private Men at a moderate Intereſt, upon good Pawns, or ſufficient Se- curity, Real or Perſonal. Again, Another adviſable Expe- dient for preſerving the Publick Treaſures from Encroach- ment and Diſhoneſty, is to take good care in diſpoſing of the Offices concerned about them. For ſure the Manage- ment of ſuch a Truſt is of too great importance to be ſet to ſale; and no Fidelity can be expected, where Men are out of Pocket, and muſt reimburſe themſelves at the Pub- Iick Expence: Nor ſhould Men of mean Quality, vulgar and Mechanick People, be admitted to purchaſe them ; but they ought in all reaſon to be put into the Hands of Men of Birth and Fortunes, ſuch as may be ſuppoſed to ačt upon Principles of Honour, and whoſe Circumſtances ſet them above any violent Temptations of ſordid or foul Dealing: And in this particular the old Romans ſet us a good Pattern, who entred the young Gentlemen of their beſt Families in Rome in this kind of Buſineſs: They lookt up- on it as the nobleſt Education ; and from this firſt ſetting out, their greateſt Men were raiſed by degrees to the high- eſt Honours, and moſt important Offices in the Common- wealth. - His Army, I think may very fitly be placed after the Counſel, and the Treaſury of a Prince; for Nature it ſelf hath put that Precedence out of diſpute, by making it im- poſſible for Forces, either to be well raiſed, or well order- ed, and uſed ſucceſsfully, and to good purpoſe; or indeed ſo much as to ſubſiſt, when they are .. without the Sup- port and Direction of thoſe two former Proviſions. Now a Military Force is abſolutely neceſſary for a Prince, to be a Terrour to his Enemies, a Guard and Security to his Per- ſon and Government: And for any Man in a Throne to think of fitting quict there any confiderable time, without ſome Number of Forces, is the fondeſt Imagination in the World. There is never any perfect Security between the Weak and the Strong ; and no State was ever yet ſo com- poſed, as to be quite void of turbulent Spirits, and free from Dangers and Diſturbances, both at Home and A- broad. Now this Power is either a conſtant determinate number, Ch. 2. Of Prudence in Government. 389 º number, ſuch as are always in Pay, the Ordinary Standing Force; or elſe it is Additional and Extraordinary, levied in time of War, and of no longer continuance than the Occa- ſion of raiſing it. The Ordinary ſtanding Forces are con- fin'd to Perſons and Places. The Perſons are of Two ſorts. There are the King's Guards, ſuch as always attend his Perſon, and are of uſe, not only as they contribute to the Safety and Preſervation of his Royal Life ; but likewiſe as they add to his Pomp and Grandeur, in making all his Appearances more auguſt and venerable, and every way be- coming ſo ſublime a Character. For that ſo mightily cele- brated Saying of Ageſilaus, That a Prince might always be ſafe without any Guard at all, provided he commanded as he ought, and uſed his Subject as an affectionate and wife Father would deal by his Children. This Aphoriſm, I ſay, is far from being always true; and He were a Mad-man, who at this time of Day would venture to make the Ex- periment, and depend upon the beſt and gentleſt Treatment for his Security. For alas ! the Wickedneſs of the World is not ſo eaſily won upon ; and Men are too ill-natur'd to be charmed into Gratitude, and Returns of Duty, by all the Tenderneſs, and Affection, and Deſert in the World. Beſides theſe Guards, it is neceſſary there ſhould be ſtand- ing Troops kept in conſtant Pay, and perfectly well-diſci- plin'd, which may be ready upon any ſudden Accident that ſhall require their Uſe and Aſſiſtance ; For it would be j. improvident to have no Preparations of this kind, and drive off the raiſing of Men, and qualifying them for Service, till the very inſtant that Neceſſity calls for them. As for the Places, in which ſuch Forces are diſpoſed, they are properly the Forts and Caſtles upon the Frontiers, which ought conſtantly to be well Mann'd, and provided with Arms and Ammunition, to prevent Surprize, and In- curſions from abroad: Inſtead of which, the Ancients here- tofore, and ſome at this Day, chooſe rather to tranſplant the Foreigners and former Inhabitants, and to people all ſuch Towns with new and populous Colonies of their own, as they enlarge their Borders by freſh Conqueſts. The Extraordinary Forces conſiſt of formed Armies, which a Prince finds himſelf obliged to raiſe, and make a lentiful Proviſion of in time of War. Now, what Methods he ought to govern himſelf by in this reſpect; for the un- dertaking any Military Enterprize, is a Conſideration rela- Cc 3 ting 390 Of Wiſdom. Book III. ting to the Second Branch of this Politick Prudence, That of Aétion, I mean, which will be treated of in the fol- lowing Chapter; and falls not within this Firſt, which is only the Proviſionary part, and ſuch as is requiſite by way of a Preparatory to the other. All therefore that I ſhall ſay upon this Subječt at preſent, is only, That a wiſe Prince will always take care, beſides his own Guards, to have a competent number of Men in actual Pay, perfect- ly diſciſplined and experienc'd in the Buſineſs of their Pro- feſſion. And that this number ought to be greater or leſs, in proportion to the Extent of his Dominions, and the Condition of the Government, to ſecure Obedience and good Order , and immediately to ſuppreſs any Seditious Practices and Commotions, which give Diſturbance, and Threaten any Danger, either from factious Subječts, or buſie deſigning Enemies. Reſerving ſtill to himſelf the Power and Opportunity of making new and greater Le- vies, when he ſhall be forced into a formal War, and to take the Field in good earneſt ; whether that War ſhall happen to oblige him in acting Offenſively or Defen- fively. And in the mean while, that his Arſenals and Ma- gazines be conſtantly well ſtored with all manner of of fenſive and defenſive Weapons, that ſo both Horſe and Foot may be ſufficiently furniſhed, and compleatly equipped with- out Difficulty or Delay. In which Proviſion I likewiſe in- clude Ammunition and Proviſion of all kinds, Engines and Utenſils of War, whether for a Camp or a Siege. Such Preparations are not only neceſſary in order to making War and ſuſtaining our ſelves, when Acts of Hoſtility are com- mitted upon us, and conſequently ſuch as every State ought to be bcforchand with, becauſe they require a great deal of Time and Expence to have them in readineſs for uſe; but they are excellent Preventions too, and many times put a ſtop to the Deſigns of levying War upon us. For few Enemies will tempt a Danger, or venture upon a Go- vernment, which is always in Condition to receive, and revenge their Attempts. Surprize, and Advantage, and the being an Over-match, are the Confiderations that animate Strangers abroad, or Parties at home, to injure and at- tack is. The beſt Security, when all is done, will be for a Prince to render himſelf formidable; and Men are moſt likely to be quiet, when they dare not be otherwiſe for their own ſakes. So infallible, ſo eternal a Maxim is it -- - *** - - - - - in Chap. 2. Of Prudence in Government. 391 in Politicks, That * the Prince who would effabliſh a firm Peace, muſt be ſire to be well provided for Hir; and treat with the Sword in his Hand. After all theſe neceſſary and eſſential Proviſions already .. 25. mentioned, I add in the laſt place, That of Alliances; The $º- which is by no means an inconſiderable Point, but a "% mighty ſtrengthening and ſupport to any Government. But": then the greateſt part of this Advantage is owing to pru- Alliancer. dent Choice, and good Conduct; and therefore good care muſt be taken with Whom thoſe Alliances are made, and upon what ſort of Terms they are eſtabliſhed. The Perſons moſt proper for the Friendſhip and Alliance of a Prince, are §. and Perſons of Power and Intereſt. For if they be either weak or remote, what Aſ- ſiſtance are they in any Capacity of giving P The only Cir- cumſtance that can render ſuch neceſſary, and engage us in their Intereſts, is, the being attack'd by a powerful Ene- my, ſo as that by ruining Them, he gains an Opportuni- ty to deſtroy Us ; and ſo the ſuccouring Them, is the pre- ferving Our ſelves. In ſuch a Caſe, let the Allie be j. wiſe never ſo unworthy our regard, we ought to join Forces and defend him with our utmoſt Might. And, if the do- ing this openly may be a means of involving us in dan- ger, then there muſt be a good Underſtanding and Aſſi- ſtance given under-hand ; for it is a Maſter-piece in Poli- ticks, to manage a Confederacy with one Prince bare-fac'd, and in the Eye of all the World; and to be well with an- other all the while, by an Agreement behind the Curtain, and unſuſpected. But ſtill my meaning is, that ſuch Secre- ſie ſhould be free from all Treachery, and Baſeneſs, and foul Dealing : For Wickedneſs and Falſhood are never al- lowable; but Prudence and good Management are highly to be commended ; tho' even Theſe, when they run into Intrigue and Doubling, are more eſpecially to be reſerved for acting the Defenſive part, and ſecuring the Government from ſome imminent Danger; Caſes that admit a much greater Latitude than acting Offenſively, and where there is no urgent Neceſſity, will bear one out in, But it ought to be farther obſerved, that there are ſeve- ral Sorts and Degrees of Alliance. The loweſt and moſt ſimple of all, is That which extends only to an Agreement for mutual Trading and Commerce between the Countries * Qui cupit Pacem, paret Bellum. C c 4 concerned; of Wiſdom. Book III. A concerned ; but the more uſual kind is that which *:::: to Friendſhip, and reciprocal Kindneſs; and this is either Defenſive only ; or elſe Offenſive and Defenſive both : And that again, by a League either limited, and with an Exce: ption of ſome particular Princes and States reſerved out of the Treaty ; or elſe general, and without any Reſtraint or Exception at all. The cloſeſt and moſt perfeót Confedera- cy is that which is Offenſive and Defenſive, for and againſt all Perſons whatſoever; this is an Engagement to ſuccour and be a Friend to all Their Friends ; and to º: and be an Enemy to all Their Enemies. And this Agreement is of great Convenience to be made with Princes of Pow- er .# great Influence, and upon an equal Foot; ſo that each ſide engage upon the ſame Terms. Again, Alliances may differ in Point of Time; Some are preſcribed and limited to a certain Term; Others are perpetual. The more com- mon way is to make them without any fixt Term men- tion'd in the Treaty, and theſe are call'd Perpetual ; But the better and ſafer Courſe is to limit it to a number of Years expreſly. Becauſe then the Renewal gives liberty for ſecond Thoughts. Some Articles may be added, and o- thers left out. In a Word, Any Alterations may then be made, as the Circumſtances or Inclinations of the Parties happen to vary: Or if occaſion be, either of them is freely and entirely at his own Diſpoſal, to break off, and be ab- ſolutely diſengag'd for the future. Nay, tho' the Condition of theſe Treaties, and the Princes concerned in them, be ſuch as one would wiſh to perpetuate them; yet even thus it is more convenient to repeat the Engagements, and enter into freſh Covenants upon freſh Conſideration, than to enter into a perpetual League at once. (Provided always, that in ſuch Caſes the Treaty be concluded, and all made faſt again, before the utter Expiration of the former Term.) For all Compacts of this kind naturally languiſh and cool in pro- ceſs of Time; and He that finds it for his Convenience to be off, will be more apt to violate his Faith, if the Alli- ance be perpetual, and give him no proſpect of Redreſs; than if it be limitcd, and ſo he can ſee to the End of his Grievance. For in this Caſe he will be tender of his Ho- nour, and wait with Patience till he be abſolved of Courſe, and can come off without any Blemiſh. And thus you have ſeen what thoſe Seven Heads are, which I thought neceſſary for the Proviſionary part of Civil Prudence, CHAP. Ch. 3. Of Prudence in Government. C H A P. III. The Second Part of Policy, or Prudence in Government, which conſiſts in the Adminiſtration, and good Conduć of the Prince. - º Hºwin; thus inſiſted at large upon the Proviſion a Prince ! : º ought to make, and inſtructed him, what Ornaments and Furniture, what Defence and what Securities, , (if I may ſo term them) are neceſſary for the Honour and Safe- ty of his Perſon and his Government; and not only ſo, but likewiſe what Courſes are proper to be taken for the acquiring and furniſhing out ſuch Supplies: Let us now proceed to Aétion, and obſerve, after what manner theſe things ought to be made uſe of, and employ'd to the beſt. Advantage. But, before we come to treat of this Matter diſtinétly, and with reference to the ſeveral Branches of the former Diviſion reſpectively, we may venture to ſay in general, That This whole Marter conſiſts in governing well; and again, That a goed Adminiſtration with regard both to the Welfare and Obedience of the Subject, and . the Security of the Prince, will depend chiefly upon ſuch a ſort of Conduct as ſhall acquire him. Two things, hearty Good-Will I mean, and Authority. The Former is That Affectionate Concern and Kindneſs which Subjects ſhould retain for their Sovereign and his Government. The Latter is a good and great Opinion, an honourable Eſteem of Him and his Government. With reſpect to the Former of Theſe it is, that a Prince is belov'd, and by virtue of the tter he is fear'd and ſtood in awe of. Now Theſe two Affections of Love and Fear, tho' they be very diſtant, yet are they by no means contrary to, or deſtructive of 9ne another; and conſequently neither are thoſe Regards ſo, which in the preſent Caſe flow from, and are the Re- ſult of thoſe Paſſions. Both of them are likewiſe of gene- ral Extent in the Matter before us ; and both Subjects and Strangers are concerned in each. Tho' indeed, if we look ſtrictly into the Thing, and ſpeak more properly, the Good-Will ſeems to be the Quality of Subjects, and the Authority that which hath the Principal influence upon Strangers; i - 394 Of Wiſdom. Book III. Strangers. And accordingly Tacitus diſtinguiſhes them, when he adviſes Perſons in this Eminent Poſt, to order Matters ſo, * that their own Country-Men may be ſure to love, and * Foreigners and Enemies may be ſure to fear them. And if we would deliver our Judgment freely and fully upon the Matter, though both are of great Efficacy, yet it muſt be acknowledged, that Authority is the ſtronger and more vi- gorous Principle of the Two; the more W. and of longer Continuance. But, when there is a juſt Temper, and exact Harmony of both together, this Matter is then brought to its utmoſt Perfection. A thing not always pra- &ticable, becauſe the different Conſtitutions of Government, and yet more different Humors and Diſpoſitions of Peo- ple, according to their ſeveral Climates, or Countries, or Complexions make a mighty Difference in the acquiring theſe; and incline Some to the One of thoſe Afflićtions of the Mind, and Others to the other. So that ſome are eaſily brought to Love, and are ſcarce ſuſceptible of Fear ; Others as eaſily awed into Reſpect, but not without infinite Difficul- ty to be won over to Kindneſs and Love for their Prince. What Methods are moſt Proper and Adviſable for the ac- uiring both theſe Advantages, we have already been in- orm'd ; for the ſeveral Heads of Proviſion ſo largely ex- plain'd, are but ſo many Means for the compaſſing this End : though of Them the moſt effectual and inſinuating ſeem to be Thoſe comprehnded under the Heads, which touch upon the Virtues, and the Manners or Deportment of a Prince. But however, it may not be amiſs, now we are fallen upon the Matter more directly, to ſay one Word or two more with regard to each of theſe powerful Advanta- ges expreſly. 2. This Good-Will and Hearty Affection is of infinite and Good will excellent Uſe ; it is in a manner abſolutely neceſſary ; in acquir’d by ſo much, that This by its own ſingle Strength is able to Gentleneſs. do a great deal, and gives a mighty Security; but all the reſt without this is very feeble and unſafe. The Methods of obtaining it are principally Three. Firſt, Moderation and , Gentleneſs ; not in Words, and Aétions, ſoft Language, and courteous Behaviour only, but alſo in the very Tem- per of the Commands iſſued out, and the whole Adminiſtra- tion. For the generality of Mankind are of ſuch a Diſpo- ſition, as will neither endure to have their Hands ty'd behind : * Amorem apud Populares, Metum apud Hoſtes quarat. h * , them, Chap. 3. Of Prudence in Government. 395 º them, nor abſolutely looſe, and at their own diſpoſal. * They are impatient (ſays Tacitus) of an Arbitrary Toke, and perfeół Slavery, and yet at the ſame time every whit as unable to bear perfeči and uncontrouled Liberty. . They make a ſhift to obey well enough, and are contented to live in the Quali- ty of Subječts; but the Chains and Captivity of Slaves they can never away with ; and therefore he ſays of them, that they are tamed and f ſubdued not to ſerve, but to obey. And the very Truth is ... Every Man finds himſelf more inclin'd to comply with a Superiour who uſes his Power tenderly; And the greater the Command, the readier and more hear- ty is commonly the Obſervance paid to it. He that will be well carried muſt take care not to ride with too ſtiff a . Rein. Caeſar, who was very expert, and a perfect Maſter in Matters of this kind, uſed to ſay, that Power, when mode- rately exerciſed, kept all ſafe and tight; but when a Man once came to let himſelf looſe, and commanded things with- out any regard to the Reaſonableneſs or the Decency; when he was ſet upon making himſelf abſolute, and reſolv’d to be obey'd Right or Wrong ; ſuch a One could never be belov'd by his Subjects, nor did he fit faſt in his Throne. In the mean while, give me leave to add, that by this Gentleneſs and Moderation, I do not mean ſuch a tame and eaſie, Negligent and Effeminate Softneſs, as lets the Reins of Government perfectly looſe; For This will expoſe a Prince to Reproach and Contempt, and degenerate into an Extreme, Ten thouſand times worſe than that of Fear. In all theſe Caſes therefore a Commander muſt obſerve, how far he can go Decently, * and what Indulgences are conſiſtent with his Honour. And the proper Province as well as the Excellence and Commendation of Prudence in Mat- ters of this Nature will be, to make ſo juſt a Mixture of Juſtice and Gentleneſs, that a Prince may neither ſeek to be Fear'd by methods of Rigour and Extremity, and rendering himſelf a publick Terror to the World ; nor ſtudy to ingratiate himſelf, and become Popular and Be- lov'd, by Methods ſo mean and unworthy, as ſhould make him Deſpicable, and a Jeſt and Scorn of the World. * Nec totam ſervitutem pati, nec totam libertatem. t Domiti ut pareant, non ſerviant. - ... Remiſſius imperanti melius paretur. Qui vult amari, lan- guidā regnet manu. * Sed incorrupto Ducis honore. Tacit. The 396 Of Wiſdom. Book III. 3. Beneficence. 4. Liberality. The Second Expedient, which I think adviſable for gain- ing the Affections of the World, is Beneficence: I mean ſo eneral and unbounded a Diſpoſition to do Good, as ſhall y no means be confin'd to thoſe of the firſt Quality, or near the Princes Perſon ; but ſhed it ſelf all over, upon all Sorts and Conditions of Men, that even the loweſt and moſt diſtant, the meaneſt of the People, may taſt and rejoice in it. One excellent way of doing this, is by good Management, and provident Care ; contriving ſufficient Pro- viſions and ſetting moderate Prices upon Commodities; ſee- ing that the Markets be well furniſhed, and Corn and o- ther Neceſſaries for the ſupport of Life, ſold at reaſonable Rates ; that if it be poſſible, there may always be Plenty, and whatever Nature cannot ſubſiſt without, may be cheap; for nothing is ſo fenſible a Grievance as Scarcity, and extravagant Rates ; and the Blame of all will be ſure to be laid at the Governour's Door. The Common People have no other Notion of publick Good, but what they are ſuſtain’d by ; nor can you make them believe that any o- ther, either Duty or Benefit, is incumbent upon, or to be expected from thoſe that fit at Helm, comparable to That of feeding the Subject ; as if Socity and Government were inſtituted for no other Purpoſe, than to ſee that the vulgar, and poorer ſort of Men ſhould never want a full Belly. * And accordingly Tacitus hath obſerved, That the only Motive which can faſten their Affections to the State is the Convenience of being maintain’d at the publick Care. The Third Attractive of Peoples Affections is Liberality, which is in Truth a more particular Sort of Beneficence; This is a Bait, nay, a Charm rather; for it does not only allure and invite, but draws, bewitches, captivates Mens Hearts, almoſt whether they will or no. So Pleaſant and Sweet it is to be on the Receiving, ſo Honourable and Winning to be on the Giving Hand: Inſomuch that a very wiſe Man laid it down for a Maxim, That a Government is better ſecured by Kindneſs, and Obligations, than by Strength and Force of Arms. . This is an Expedition uſeful at all Times, but more eſpecially ſo, at the firſt entrance upon Government; when there hath been either ſome late Succeſ- ſion, or ſome new Eſtabliſhment. What Perſons are the Pro- per Objects of this Liberality, in what Proportions it ought to be extended, and what Addreſs ought to be obſerved in * Vulgo una ex Republică Annona cura. the Ch. 3. Of Prudence in Government. the manner of giving, are Particulars, which have been largely examin'd and reſolv'd already. ... I only add, that ºft, hath given us in his own Perſon, an eminent In- ſtance, both of the Practice of theſe Methods for attaining the Love and Eſteeem of Mankind, and of the Succeſs of ſuch Meaſures f For he (ſays Tacitus) won upon the Army by Lar- geſſes ; the Common People by Plenty of Corn; and all Degrees of Men by the Sweets of Reſt and Univerſal Peace. Authority is the other Pillar, that ſupports any Govern- ment ; for, ... The Majeſty of the Royal Charašter is its Safe- ty and Defence. This is that impregnable Fort, that keeps the lower and naked World in Aw; by Virtue whereof the Prince can demand, and force Satisfaction, from any who ſhall preſume to contemn his Orders, or behave them- ſelves inſolently to him. Upon the Account of This it is, that the Diſcontents of People end in Murmurs, that the enraged Mobile dares not ſtorm the Palace, but all deſire to be in good Grace with their Great Maſter. Now, this Authority is a compounded thing, and the Two Ingre- dients that make it up, are Fear and Reſpect. By Theſe two the Prince and his Government become formidable, ſpread a ſort of Awe upon all who behold and confider them, and are ſecured from Attempts by this Protection. Now, to the acquiring this Authority, beſides that all the Heads of Proviſion infiſted upon in the laſt Chapter muſt concur, there are Three other Things abſolutely neceſſary to be obſerved, in the Admiſtration, and manner of Go- , Verning it ſelf. - The Firſt of Theſe is Severity; which, commonly ſpeak- Severity. ing, is much more for the Safety, and Advantage of a Go- Vernour, and a better and more durable Defence from Enemies and Dangers, than Eaſineſs and Clemency; be- cauſe theſe are ſo very ſeldom tempered with Diſcre- tion; and a great Softneſs and Gentleneſs of Diſpoſition is exceeding apt to degenerate, and, as was hinted before, to Produce very miſchievous Effects. Of This ſeveral good Accounts may be given ; As Firſt, the Natural Humor of the People, which, as Ariſtotle very truly obſerved, is not. ºaſt in ſo good a Mould, as to be tractable; nor will they tº contained in their Duty by any Principles ſo generous, - * f Qui militem donis, populum annona, cunetos dulcedins, orii pºllexit. ... Majeſtas Imperii Salutis Tutela. : as i . º º *-- l 398 of Wiſm. BookIII as Love or Shame; nothing leſs, nothing better will do it than Force and Fear, Extremity, and a Dread at leaſt of Puniſhment. A Second Reaſon is the General Corruption of Manners, and that Extravagance and Debauchery, which like a Contagious Diſtemper, haith tainted and overſpread all the World ; and this by being general, takes Courage, grows Inſolent and Preſumptuous ; and is ſo far from any poſſibility of being reform'd by fair Means, that ſuch Gen- tleneſs only inflames the Diſeaſe, and makes Vice more Bold and Triumphant. It begets Contempt of Superiours, and ſtrengthens the Wicked with Hopes of Impunity, which is the Plague and Bane of all Law, and all Government. For as Cicero ſays * The mºſt Powerful Temptation to offend ariſes from the Hope of Impunity. And moſt certain it is, that Rigor upon particular Notorious Offenders,is the greateſt Mer- cy that can poſſibly be ſhewn to the Publick, and the whole Body of Subjects in general. There is ſometimes a neceſſity of making ſignal and ſolemn Examples, thus at the Expence of private Sufferings to teach other People Wiſ- dom, and to prevent the exorbitant Growth of Villany by cutting it ſhort betimes. The Body Politick is in this Re- #. ſubject to the ſame Dangers, and muſt ſubmit to the ame Methods of Cure,with our Natural Body; where a Fin- ger is many times taken off out of a mere Principle of Ten- derneſs; that by this ſeeming Barbarity, a Mortification may be prevented from ſeizing the whole Arm firſt, and then the Vitals. And thus that King of Thrace made no ill An- ſwer, to one that reproach'd him, with playing the Part, not of a King, but a Mad-Man ; Aye, Sir, ſays he, but this Madneſs of mine keeps my Subječis in their Senſes; and they grow Wºſer by that which you think my Folly. Severity keeps Officers and Magiſtrates ſtrictly to their Duty, and promotes a faithful Execution of their reſpective Truſts; it diſcountenances Flatterers, and turns Paraſites out of Doors; the Wicked and Diſſolute, the impudent Beggars, and little Tyrants of the Court are not able to ſtand before it. Whereas on the contrary, Eaſineſs and Exceſſive Mild- neſs of Temper opens the Gate Wide, and admits all theſe infamous Wretches ; by whoſe Importunity and Un- reaſonableneſs the publick Treaſures are exhauſted,and ſquan- dered away; All manner of Vice is encouraged, The King- dom is impoveriſhed ; all which, and a great many other * Illecebra peccandi maxima ſpes impunitatis. - * - - Miſeries Chap. 3. Of Prudence in Government. * †, 399 Miſeries, like Colds and Catarrhes, in a Rheumatick and diſtempered Body, break the Conſtitution ; and fall and ſet- tle like the Humours, upon the weakeſt Parts. The Good- Nature of Pertinax, and the Licentiouſneſs of Heliogabalus had like to have loſt All, and were very near ruining the Roman Empire ; and then the ſtrict Diſcipline of Seve- rus firſt, and afterwards of Alexander reſtor'd, and made all whole again. - But ſtill Extreams muſt be avoided ; and the Severity I recommended ſhould be exerciſed with prudent Reſerve, and juſt Diſtinétion : It muſt not be a thing of conſtant practice, but now and then, upon juſtifiable and impor- tant Occaſions; and when it may be ſeaſonable and effectual. For the End of this Diſpenſation muſt always direct the Uſe of the Means; and the Deſign of all Rigour in the Admi- miniſtration of Juſtice is plainly This, * That the Sufferings of a few, may work Terror and Amendment in the reſt, Thus the Almighty Law-Giver himſelf, renders an account of ſeveral exemplary and capital Puniſhments among the Iſraelites ; Deut. xxi. That all Iſrael may hear, and fear, and do no more wickedly. Now, ſuch Executions, when grown daily and familiar, loſe their Efficacy ; and therefore that ancient Author was cer- tainly in the Right, who affirmed, that ſome few publick Examples contribute more to the Reformation of the Peo- ple, than frequent Puniſhments, which come thick upon one another can poſſibly do. The Reaſon of which is, that the more Surpriſing and New any Impreſſions of this kind are, the more Strong, and Terrible and Awakening they are. But then all this is to be underſtood of common Caſes; for if Vice gather Strength, if the Proſelytes and Pračtiſers of it grow Numerous, and Reſolute, and Bold, In ſuch a Caſe Compaſſion is the greateſt Cruelty, Fire and Sword are then the only Remedies, and it is neceſſary to go thro' with the Cure. And whatever Imputations of a Bloody and Barbarous Temper may in ſuch Circumſtances be caſt Pon a Prince, they are but the Effects of Ignorance and Unjuſt Cenſure ; for here again it is in the State, as in thºſe private Bodies of ours, where the fBxtremity of a Diſeaſe and the Ongovernableneſs of the Patient, forces the *ſician to be cruel; and he would betray his Skill, + 9: Pºena ad paucos, metus ad omnes. Crudelem Medicum, intemperans ager facit. and | Im- ; - iii 4oo Of Wiſdom. Book III. 7. Conſtancy. at d be ſalſe to his Profeſſion, ſhould he relent, and be otherwiſe. The Second Expedient for eſtabliſhing and preſerving a Princes Authority, is Conſtancy. A Firmneſs, and Reſolv'd Temper of Mind, by which he keeps to his own Methods, treads the ſame Steps, and without any Fickle- neſs or wanton Love of change, advances ſtill on, gets Ground upon his Subjects; and enforces a due Obſer- vance of eſtabliſh'd Laws, and ancient Cuſtoms. To be continually Altering and Reviewing, Aboliſhing Old, and Enacting New, beſides, that it argues a weak and unſettled Mind, which never knows when things are well, nor where to fix; it does unavoidably leſſen a Prince in the Eye of the World, and derive a very mean Opinion, both upon his Perſon, and his Laws; nay, it expoſes both to publick Scorn and Contempt. Upon This Account wiſe, Mén have ever ſhew'd themſelves averſe to Change, and that to ſuch a Degree, as to diſſuade and forbid Alterati- ons in Laws and received Cuſtoms, even though they were to be chang'd for the better. For (beſides the Uncertainty and the Danger of ſuch Courſes, and that we know the worſt of what is practiſed now, but cannot foreſee the Conſequences of what was never yet try’d ;). Take the Matter abſtraćtedly and by it ſelf, and it is certain, that Al- teration of an old Law is always more inconvenient, and does greater Miſchief, than the Novelty of a thing intro- duc’d in its Room can poſſibly do Good. Upon this Ac- count (as I have intimated in a former Part of this Trea- tiſe ) Buſie Fellows and Reformers have all along been look'd upon as very ſuſpicious and dangerous People, and by all means to be diſcountenanced. And in truth nothing leſs than either evident or abſolute neceſſity ; or elſe as evident and very conſiderable Advantage to the Publick ; and This a certain, and not merely a poſſible, or likely Conſequence of the Change can ever be Argument Strong and Subſtan- tial enough, for breaking in upon ancient Conſtitutions, and altering the Meaſures of any Government. And when ſuch cogent Motives as theſe are offer'd to perſuade it, yet e- ven then there is mighty Caution and Diligence to be uſed; the Proceedings ought to be exceeding well adviſed ; eve- ry Step taken warily and with Deliberation. All muſt not be done at a Puſh ; but the Old laid aſide with decency and by degrees, and the New introduced as gently and iº. Y, Ch. 3. Of Prudence in Government. 491. --- bly, as is poſſible. For in this above any other conjun- . . . - ‘. . 3S * 504 of Wiſdom. Book III. Firſt with regard to the Cauſes that create it ; and The are Four. Nature, Virtue, Profit, and Pleaſure ; and theſe ſometimes advance all together in a Body; ſometimes Two or Three of them ; and very often One of them appears fingle. But of all theſe, Virtue is the nobleſt Cauſe, and the moſt powerful; for This is pure and refin'd, and hath it's Reſidence in the Heart, the Seat of Love it ſelf. Na- ture runs in the Blood, Profit lies in the Purſe, and Pleaſure is confin'd to ſome particular Part, and works but upon the Senſes of the Body, except at a diſtance, and by Reflection only. Accordingly Virtue is more free, and open, and pure, and firm in its Affection ; for all the other Cauſes, when deſtitute of this, are ſordid and mean, fickle, and of ſhort Continuance. He that loves upon the Account of Virtue, can never be weary, becauſe there are always freſh Charms to attract and entertain him ; and if ſuch a Friendſhip hap- pen to break off, he hath no reaſon to complain, becauſe the Breach could not have been, if all that was worth his Love had not fail'd. He that Loves for Profit, if a Breach happen there, is full of immoderate Complaints; but expo- fed to very juſt Reproach, for having ſpared no Pains, and yet gaining nothing by all his Trouble. He that Loves for Pleaſure, when the Satisfaction ceaſes, the Paſſion ceaſes too ; and he takes leave of the Obječt, without murmuring or complaint. - The Second Diſtinétion relates to the Parties concern'd in 5. - - The Perſºns, this Affection ; and of Theſe there are Three ſorts remark- able. One proceeds in a direct Line between Superi- ours and Inferiours ; and this deſcending Line is either Na- tural, as between Parents and Children, Uncles and Ne- phews ; or Legal and Political, as between a Prince and his Subječts, a Lord and his Waſſals, a Maſter and his Servants, a Tutor and his Pupil; a Prelate, or Preacher, or Magiſtrate, and the People under his Care. Now, if one would ſpeak properly, and go to the Nicety of the thing, This is not true Love; by reaſon of the Diſtance and great Diſparity between the Circumſtances of the Parties, which hinders that Eaſineſs and Privacy, that Familiarity and entire Commu- nication, which is the Principal Fruit and Conſequence of Love ; as alſo, upon the Account of that Obligation there lies upon them, which leaves ſuch Perſons very little at their own Diſpoſal in this Matter, and ſo takes off from that Free- dom ſuppoſed in this Virtue, making the Affection rather an Effect of Duty and Neceſſity, than of Choice. And in t | COIl- Ch. 7. Of juſtice in General. joj conſideration of This it is, that we call it by other Names more ſuitable to thoſe Engagements. Thus Inferiours, we ſay, owe Honour, and Reſpect, and Obedience to thoſe above them; and Superiours owe Care, and Protection, and Vigilance, and kind Condeſcenſion to thoſe beneath them. - The Second ſort of Love, with regard to the Parties, pro- ceeds in a Collateral Line; and This is between ſuch as are either almoſt or altogether Equals. This again is Two- fold, either Natural, or Voluntary. The Natural firſt, as between Brothers, Siſters, Couſins, and the like ; which is more properly call'd Love than the Former, becauſe there is leſs Diſparity in their Condition, and ſo more room for Familiarity and free Converſe ; But then here is an Obli- gation from Nature too, and that ſuch a one as looſens or ſlackens that Knot in one reſpect, which it ties and binds us by in another. For many Quarrels and Miſunderſtandings commonly ariſe between theſe Relations, upon the Account of Portion , Inheritance, and that variety of Buſineſs and Intereſts, wherein they are mutually concern'd. Beſides, that very frequently there wants that Similitude and exact Agreement of Humours and Inclinations, which is the very Life and Eſſence of true and entire Affection. I muſt con- fift, he is an ill Man, or a Fool, but he is my Brother, or my Relation, are Complaints exceeding common in the Mouths of ſuch Perſons: But then there is likewiſe a free and vo- luntary Love between Equals, ſuch as that of intimate Ac- §.". and Friends; which hath no other Band of nion but Affection only ; and This is what in the ſtrict and proper Signification of the Word, we call Amity or Ove. The Third ſort, with reſpect to the Perſons concern'd, is a Mixture and Compound of the two Former; from whence it follows, that each Ingredient having its due Force, this Compoſition ought to be much ſtronger than either of the other can poſſibly be alone. And ſuch is the Conjugal Af- fečtion between Husband and Wife. This hath ſomewhat of the direct and deſcending Line, by reaſon of the Supe- riority of the Husband, and the Subjection of the Wife; and it hath a great deal of the Collateral Line too, upon the account that This is a Society inſtituted for Familiarity and mutual Comfort. An Intimation whereof Almighty God himſelf ſeems to have given us, in the firſt Creation of Woman, by taking her out of the Subſtance of Man, yet - - - - not 506 of Wiſdom. Book III. not out of his Head, nor his Feet, but his Side. And thus married Perſons do, and are oblig'd to exerciſe theſe two ſorts of Affection in their Behaviour to each other; but each of them ſo, as may be moſt ſeaſonable and becoming. In Publick, the Duties of the direct Line take place ; for a Wiſe Woman will always be ſure to treat her Husband be- fore Company with Submiſſion and Reſpect; but in private and alone, the Familiarities of the Collateral Line, and all imaginable Freedoms are to be practis'd. This Conjugal Affection is likewiſe twofold; and of a compounded Nature in another Reſpect. For it is both Spiritual and Corporeal; an Union of Bodies as well as Souls; which is a Qualifica- tion peculiar to This alone, and ſuch as no other kind of Love can pretend to, except That which is abuſively and moſt injuriouſly ſtyl'd ſo, and ſuch as not only all wholſom Laws, but even Reaſon and Nature it ſelf have always diſallow'd and condemn'd. Upon theſe ſeveral Accounts then this Affection of a marry'd State is fitted to be ex- ceeding great and ſtrong, powerful and endearing. But yet there are two or three Rubs in the way, that check and cool it, and very ſeldom ſuffer it to riſe up to all the Per- fections of a juſt Friendſhip. One is, That no part here is left to their own Liberty, but the firſt Entrance upon it. When once they are in, they muſt even make their beſt on't, for there is no getting out again. The perfiſting and conti- nuance in this Soceity is irreverſibly bound upon them ; and this Conſtraint is the univerſal Condition of all the beſt and moſt Religious, that is of all Chriſtian Marriages; For in other Perſuaſions Men are left more to their Liberty, by the allowing Divorces, final Separations, and Nullities of this Obligation. Another (if the Ladies will give us leave to ſay ſo) is the Weakneſs of the Sex ; whoſe Strength of Mind is not ſufficient to keep up, and hold pace in a per- fect Conference, and unreſerv'd Communication of all a Man's Thoughts; and the Contemplations of a penetrating and judicious Mind. So that here is quite another Turn of Soul; it wants Subſtance and Solidity to keep the Knot tight; and this Conjunction is like the faſtening of one thing which is ſtubborn and inflexible, to another that is ſlender, and limber, and yielding; which for want of Strength to bear up againſt it, buckles under, and ſlips away from it. A Third Impediment to that entire Affection in a Conjugal - State, may be imputed to the great Intricacy of Buſineſs that attends it; the Children, the Relations on both fides ; - and Chap. 7. Of juſtice in General. 507 and a great many other Uneaſineſſes and Perplexities, which, tho' bur an Accidental Inconvenience, and not conſtant and unavoidable, as the two former are, yet is frequent and confiderable enough to deſerve a Remark here, and too of— ren diſturbs the Happineſs and Quiet, and cools the vigour of that Affection, which is the Bleſſing and Ornament of that State. The Third Diſtinétion of Love concerns the Strength and 6. Intenſeneſs, or the Weakneſs and Remiſſneſs of it. With Degreer. regard to This Confideration it is again Twofold. One Common and Imperfeót, which indeed ought rather to be term'd Benevolence or Well-wiſhing, Familiarity, Particular Acquaintance: And this varies exceedingly, and may differ almoſt infinitely in the degrees of it, each of which may be more or leſs cloſe, and intimate, and ſtrong than other: The Other is Perfect; and this is a ſort of Phanix, few, if any one Inſtance of it to be ſeen in the World ; ſo far from being practiſed by Mankind, that they can ſcarce form a tolerable Idea of it to themſelves; or reach up to the Force and Excellencies of the thing, by all the Strength of mere Imagination. - For the clearer and more diſtinét Underſtanding of this Difference, it may be of ſome Service to us to give a De- ſcription of each, and to confront them with one another; as for Example: 1. The Common may be conciliated, and come to its utmoſt Pitch in a very little while ; but long Time, and great Deliberation muſt go to the Finiſhing a perfect Amity. Such Perſons, according to the Proverb, muſt eat at leaſt a Buſhel of Salt together, before they can be qualify'd to con- tract an entire Friendſhip. 2. That which is Common may be contracted and car- ry'd on by an infinite variety of Accidents, which contribute to our Profit and Delight; whereupon a Wiſe Man preſcri- bed theſe two Rules for the attaining to it; That a Man ſhould be entertaining in his Diſcourſe, and obliging and ſerviceable in his Actions; for if the One of theſe do but furniſh out Pleaſure, and the other promote the Intereſt of the Perſons with whom we converſe, all that a Common Friendſhip pretends to, is done effectually: But now, That which I call a Perfect Friendſhip is never built upon ſuch mean Conſiderations. Nothing leſs than the Contemplation and mutual Experience of an unfeign'd and vigorous Virtue can be Foundation ſtrong enough for ſo noble a Super- ſtructure. - - 3. The sos ... Of Wiſdom. Book III. 3. The Common Friendſhips may extend themſelves to a great Number of Perſons: But the true entire Friendſhip . admits but of One Partner ; and this is to all Intents and Purpoſes a Second Self: ſo that altho' the Perſons are Two, yet their Hearts and Affections are . One and the Same, And the neceſſity of confining ſuch Friendſhips to Two on- ly, is very evident from the Nature of the thing. For to ſuppoſe more, deſtroys the Notion, and obſtructs all the Offices and Operations of it. For inſtance, To ſuccour and aſſiſt a Friend in his Diſtreſs, is an indiſpenſable Obligati- on ; but if we put the Caſe of Two ſuch ſtanding in need of our Help at the ſame time ; and not only ſo, but de- firing Kindneſſes which are inconſiſtent and contrary to one another, Which way ſhall I turn my ſelf; or how can I diſcharge my Obligations, when one of theſe is favour'd and relieved to the Prejudice and Neglect of the other P Again, My Friend imparts a Secret to me, What Diſtraćtion is here 2 If I revealit, This is a Breach of Truſt and Friendſhip, which obliges me to be Faithful in keeping what is thus de- poſited with me: But then, if I do not communicate it to my other Friend, this is Unfaithfulneſs too ; for it is ano- ther Law of true and entire Friendſhip, to unboſom themſelves freely, and to have no Reſerves from each other. Thus you ſee the Confuſion and Perplexity, the Impracticableneſs and utter Impoſſibility indeed of more Friends than One, in the higheſt and moſt genuine Acceptation of the Word. And, no doubt, Multiplication of Parts, and Diviſion, is, gene- rally ſpeaking, an Enemy to Perfeótion, as Union is a natu- ral and inſeparable Property of it. 4. The Common Friendſhip admits of Diminution, and Increaſe; it is ſubject to Exceptions, Limitations, different Modifications and Forms ; it grows warmer and colder; and comes and goes by Fits, , like an intermitting Fever; according as the Perſon is Abſent or Preſent; as his Merits are more or leſs ; and the Kindneſſes he docs more or leſs frequent and engaging; and many other Confiderations there are, capable of making an Alteration in our Affections of this kind. But now, That Friendſhip, which is perfect and entire, is much otherwiſe; firm and conſtant to it ſelf, even and ſteady : Its Warmths are healthful, its Temper regular, and all its Motions vigorous and uniform. - 5. The Common Friendſhip admits and ſtands in need of ſeveral Rules for its Direction; ſeveral Wiſe Cautions con- triv'd by conſiderate Perſons for the regulating and reſtrain- Ch. 7. Of juſtice in General 509 ing it, and preventing any future Inconveniences, which may happen to ariſe from Unwarineſs, and an unguarded Con- . One of theſe is, To love our Friend ſo far as may be conſiſtent with the Preſervation of our Piety, and Truth, and Virtue. For even that old Expreſſion of Ami- tº uſue ad Ara, implies this Reſtriction. Another is to love him ſo, as if you were ſure one Day to hate him ; and to hate a Man ſo, as if you were hereafter to love him ; that is, To be prudent and reſerv'd in your Paſſions and Affections, and not abandon one's ſelf ſo entirely, or be ſo violent in either Extreme, that a Man ſhould have juſt oc- caſion to repent, and condemn his former Behaviour, if, at any time hereafter there ſhould happen to be a Breach, or any Coldneſs grow betwixt them. A Third is, To come into our Friend's Aſſiſtance of our own accord, and without being call’d. For it puts a Friend out of Countenance to demand his Right; and he buys a Kindneſs dear, when forc'd to ask what he looks upon as his juſt Due, and that which he conceives he ought to be prevented in. Therefore theſe Obligations are never fully ſatisfy'd, except we be always ready and early in our Courtefies, and, if that be poſſible, beforehand with his very Wiſhes. A Fourth is not to be troubleſome to our Friends, by entertaining them with diſ- mal Stories of our own Misfortunes, and being always in the complaining Strain. Like Women, that make it their whole Buſineſs to move Pity, and are conſtantly magnifying their own Hardſhips and Sufferings. Now all theſe are very uſeful and ſeaſonable Directions, fit to be obſerv'd in common Friendſhips: But in That more ſublime and perfect one, there is no occaſion at all for theſe ; This diſdains all Forms, and is above the Pedantick Niceties of Ceremony and Reſerve. This is what we ſhall attain to a more juſt and diſtinét Notion of, by giving the Reader a Draught and Deſcri- ption of Friendſhip in Perfection: Which is no other, in ſhort, than a free, full, and entire Mingling of Souls through- out, and in every part and point. To explain this now in Three Particulars. I ſay Firſt, It muſt be a Mingling and (if I may ſo expreſs it) an Incorporating, and not a Con- junction of Souls only. For this gives us a Reſemblance of Solid Bodies, which, how ſtrongly and artificially ſoever they may be tack'd together in one part, yet do not touch in all;And not only ſo, but that very Ligament which joins them together, may be diſſolv'd, or cut aſunder, and each of theſe Bodies may ſubſiſt, and remain, and feel it ſelf entire, after - Sepa- 5 lo Of Wiſdom. Book III. : Separation. But now in theſe perfect Friendſhips, the Souls of Men are entirely abſorpt in each other; ſo confounded, as never to be diſtinguiſh'd, never to be parted again ; like Liquors well mix'd, which can never be drawn off from each other. And That is the perfect, the univerſal Com- munion of Minds, that entire Agreement of Judgments and Inclinations, which I, rather choſe to expreſs by mingling of : Souls, as a Phraſe that gives us a ſtronger Idea of this U- nion, than any Reſemblance taken from Solids could poſſi- ſhly do. Secondly, It is free, and purely the Work of Choice, a generous and ſpontaneous Act of the Will, without any Obligation, or diſtant Inducement, foreign to the Worth and Agreeableneſs of the Parties. For nothing is more vo- luntary than Love; and ſo much of Conſtraint as you put mpon it, ſo much you weaken the Affection, and take off from the true Nature and Commendation of the Virtue. Thirdly, It is univerſal, and without Exception ; no Reſer- vation of any thing, nothing that can be call'd ours in bar to our Friend's Title and Pretenſions. Eſtate, Honours, Preferments, Judgments, Thoughts, Wills, all laid open and in common; nay, even Life it ſelf is what both have equal Right in. From This ſo univerſal and entire Com- munication it is, that that thoſe Maxims have taken place, of Friendſhip finding or making all equal ; of Friends having mo Property; and the like; ſuch can no longer lend or bor- row; they cannot give or receive ; there is no ſuch thing as Beneficence and Obligation,Acknowledgments or Returns, or any ſuch Offices of Kindneſs or Gratitude practicable or in force for Their Condition. Theſe indeed are the Arts and Methods by which ordinary Friendſhips are cheriſh'd and maintain'd ; but at the ſame time that they are Te- ftimonies of Affection, they are Marks of Diſtinétion too. Whereas, in this Caſe, it is as with one's own Self; and as a Man cannot be oblig'd to himſelf for any Service done to his own Perſon, nor owe any Gratitude upon the Ac- count of that Kindneſs and Readineſs to relieve his own Wants, which he feels in his Breaſt, no more can one true Friend be indebted to another upon any the like Occaſions. Nay, even Marriage, tho' it give us the beſt, yet is even That but a diſtant and feeble Reſemblance of the Divine Union we are now treating of . The Laws allow no ſuch thing as Diſtinét Properties, and Donations betwixt Man and Wife. And therefore in Friendſhip could there be any ſuch thing as giving and receiving, the Benefactor would be That Chap. 7. Of juſtice in General. 5 i 1 That Perſon who made uſe of his Friend's Kindneſs, and ſo put it in his Power to do what became him. For the prin- cipal Deſign, and eagereſt Wiſh of each Party, being to ſnatch every occaſion of mutual Aſſiſtance and Benefit; He who furniſhes the Opportunity, and gratifies this Deſire, is properly the Donor. Since it is to his Bounty that the o- ther ows his greateſt Happineſs; for ſuch is the Satisfaction of compaſſing his Deſires, and effecting that which is incom- parably more pleaſant and dear to him, than all the Advan- rages and Enjoyments in the World beſides. Some few Inſtances there are of this entire Friendſhip, 9. and unreſerv'd Communication of Souls in ancient Story. Exampler When Bloſius was apprehended, upon the Account of a ºf Friend. mighty Friendſhip known to be between Him and Tiberiuſ"?. Gracchus, who was already under Sentence of Condemnati- on for Seditious Practices; upon Examination what he would have done for his ſake, he reply'd, That he would have ſtuck at nothing to do him Service. The Judges pro- ceeded further, and asked, Whether if Gracchus had deſir'd him to ſet the Temples on Fire, he would have comply'd with ſo Sacrilegious a Requeſt: He anſwer'd again, That Gracchus was not capable of deſiring ſo wicked a Proof of his Friendſhip ; but upon ſuppoſition that he could, he ſhould not have refuſed it. Now This was a very bold and a dangerous Anſwer. The firſt part of it indeed, that Grac- chus could not entertain a Thought ſo impious, was no more than he might well enough venture to ſay ; becauſe, ac- cording to the Account we have already given of this Mat- ter, every Friend in perfection is not only fully acquainted with the Diſpoſition,and all the Thoughts of his Friend,which ſufficiently qualifies him to be reſponſible for them all ; but he is abſolute Maſter of them, and ſo can diſpoſe of them, as much as of his own. But that laſt Clauſe of doing ſo if Gracchus had requir'd it, was idle and impertinent : for it does not in any Degree take off from what he had affirm'd before, concerning his Aſſurance of Gracchus not en- tertaining any ſuch Deſire, nor make the thing one Whit , better or worſe. Now this Inſtance ſhews us the perfect Harmony of Souls, with regard to the concurring Judgments and Inclinations of ſuch Friends. The Second Inſtance relates to their Fortunes. To which purpoſe we read of Three Friends, (This Number of Three I confeſs is a Contradiction to the Rules here propoſed, and tempts us to think that this Friendſhip, tho' very ex- - traordinary r 5 12 Of Wiſdom. Book III. traordinary, had not yet attained to all the Degrees of juſt a Perfeótion) But Three however there were: Two of them in very plentiful, the other in as low Circumſtances, who had a poor old Mother, and a young unmarry'd Daughter, both lying upon his Hands. This Perſon upon his Death- bed makes a Will, and bequeaths to One of his Friends his poor feeble Mother to maintain; to the Other his Daugh- ter, with a Charge to ſee her as well match'd as poſſibly he could ; and in caſe either of theſe happen'd to fail, the whole Care of both was to devolve upon the Other. A notable Legacy you'll ſay ; and ſo the World then thought it; for every Body made themſelves extremely merry. with ſo odd a Bequeſt. But, while the World ridicul'd this un- uſual piece of Executorſhip, the Heirs themſelves took the Adminiſtration upon them with wonderful Satisfaction; and each was greedy to get his Legacy into his poſſeſſion. Within a very few Days after, the Legatee to whoſe ſhare the Mother fell, happen'd to die too; and then the ſurviving Coheir, ſucceeding into the whole Concern, took particu- lar good Care of the Mother; and, aſſoon as conveniently he could, enquired out convenient Matches for both, mar- ry'd his own only Daughter, and that of his deceas'd Friend, upon one and the ſame Day, and divided his whole Eſtate equally between them. Now, according to this Caſe thus ſtated, as you ſee, it hath been the conſtant Opinion of the Wiſeſt Men, that He who dy'd firſt, gave greater Demon- ſtrations of his Friendſhip, and was a more bountiful Bene- factor, than either of the Survivors ; that he really be- queath'd them the moſt valuable Inheritance, by putting in- to their Hands ſuch occaſions of doing good; and allowing them the Satisfaction of laying themſelves out in his Service, as became their Character, and the Neceſſities of his own Family requir’d. - The Third Example goes higher ſtill, and reaches to Life it ſelf. And here we may reflect upon that well-known Story of two Friends.That a Tyrant had condemn'd one of them to die, and had appointed the Day and Hour of his Execution; but he with great Importunity obtain'd Leave to go and take Care of his Affairs and Family, upon this Condition, that he ſhould give Security, and find one to be bound Bo- dy for Body, for his ſurrendring himſelf again at the Time refix’d ; and in caſe he fail'd, then his Bail to undergo the ſame Capital Puniſhment, which had been awarded to his Principal. | | t | ! [ l | | | Ch. 8. Of Fidely, Pºrfiiuuſuſ, &c. 5 13 — Principal. The Condition was readily accepted, and the Priſoner produces his Friend to be bound for him, who accordingly was impriſon'd in the other's ſtead. The Day of Execution came, and this Bondſman prepar'd himſelf to die with all imaginable Cheerfulneſs.But, as he was going about it, the Condemn'd Perſon came in, releas'd his Security, and offer'd himſelf to the fatal Stroke. This ſtrange Genero- ſity made ſuch Impreſſion upon the Tyrant, that, much out of Countenance, and full of Aſtoniſhment, he was con- quer'd into Mercy; ſet them both at Liberty, and made it his Requeſt, that theſe brave Men would accept of the Proffers he made of his Kindneſs and Affection, and do him the Honour to admit him into their Number, and #. that they had now a Third fincere and generous Friend. - C H A P. VIII. Mutual Faith, Fidelity; Perfidiouſneſs, Secrecy. A.I. Mankind are highly ſenſible, and unanimouſly a- T. greed, that Mutual Faith is the common Band and The Excel. Cement, by which Human Society is held together, the lence of very Bottom and Groundwork of all Juſtice ; and even Fidelity. thoſe perfidious Wretches, who are the moſt infamous in practice, and delight moſt in Falthood and Wrong, cannot but acknowledge the Excellence of this Virtue, and that it is of infinite conſequence to have it ſtrictly and religiouſly obſerv'd. * Nothing, ſays Tully, is more noble, nothing more venerable than Fidelity ; for This is the Foundation of 31ſtice; it knits Men to one another, and contributes as much as any one thing whatſoever, both to the Security of the Publick, and that of Private Perſons. Faithfulneſs and Truth are the moſt Sacred, moſt reverend Excellencies and Endowments of a Hu- man Mind. * Nihil auguſtius Fide, quae Juſtitie Fundamentum eſt; nec ulla res vehementius Rempublicam continet & vitam. San- Čtiſſimum humani pećtoris Bonum. L! * Eternal ~~~ 5 14 Of Wiſdom. Book III. 2. * Eternal Truth, Siſter and Twin to 3ove, Glory of Men below, and Gods above; The vaſt expanded Globe's diffuſive Soul, By thy fixt Laws, Sun, Stars, and Seas do roul. Firm on thy Baſe, and knit in Sacred Band, Peace, mutual Truſt, and equal juſtice ſtand. In Man thy Native Light is ſhed abroad, And every Breaft is fill'd with a Domeſtick God. And yet, notwithſtanding this general Conſent in the Spe- The Rarity culative part, Men differ extremely, and in practice con- tradićt themſelves. For the World is full of Treachery and Falſhood; and very few ſhall we be able to find, who are truly and entirely True and Juſt in their Dealings. Nay, even thoſe who make a Conſcience of being ſo, yet are frequently guilty of Breach of Faith, ſuch as not only the World does not eaſily diſcover, but ſuch as they them- ſelves who commit it, are not ſenſible of For if they can but fix upon any colourable Pretence to varniſh over ſuch an Aćtion, and give it a tolerable good Face; they preſent- By perſuade themſelves, that all is well, and they have done nothing amiſs. Others there are eternally upon the Hunt for Niceties and ſubtle Evaſions, by which to juſtifie their Proceedings; and here they retreat and ſhelter themſelves. If the World take upon them to cenſure their Doings, or their own Conſcience be either Scrupulous before, or Clamorous afterward, they caſt up an Intrenchment of Diſtinétions round about them ; and under this Covert go on, without boggling, or being aſham'd of anything. Now, in order to the clearing all the Difficulties that may ariſe upon this Occaſion, I ſhall endeavour to ſet this whole Matter in its true Light, and direct Men how to behave themſelves. And the whole, I think, of what needs to be ſaid, may conveniently enough be reduc’d to Four Conſiderations. The Perſon that engages his Faith ; the Party to whom that Engagement is made ; the Subječt-Matter, or the Thing Covenanted for ; and the Manner or Form of entring into that Engagement. of it. * Ante Jovem generata, Decus Divāmque Hominūmque ; Quà ſine non Tellus pacem, non aequora nórunt ; Juſtitiº conſors, tacitumque in pettore Numen. Firſt, 5 16 Of Wiſdom. Wook III. cred, ſo ſhould the Receiving it be too ; and Diſtruſt in the one Party is no leſs a Diſparagement to it, than Fallacy and Trick in the other. If it be not relied upon for the Sake of its own binding Force, the Confidence is loſt and broke; and it ceaſes to be mutual Faith any longer. The demanding of Hoſtages, and keeping Men under Guard, and ſo entring into Caution, and requiring Pledges of any ſort, is not truſting to Men's Truth, but to their Security ; and it is Ridiculous and Senſeleſs,to call This truſting to Men's Honeſty. He that is confined, either by a Keeper, or a Priſon, hath been falſe to no Engagement, if he make his Eſcape; nor can he be ſaid to have deceived thoſe, who ne- ver repos'd any Confidence in him. , Had ſuch an one been left at large upon his Parole, or had he prevail'd with o- thers to ſtand bound for his Appearance ; Honour and Con- ſcience would have obliged him to ſuffer any Inconvenience rather than falſify his Word, or give up his Bail, or any manner of way diſappoint the Expectations, and betray the Truſt of thoſe who depended upon him. And therefore the Reaſon of that Roman ſeems to carry a great deal of Force, * Every Man is deſirous to find Credit ; and a Promiſe is then binding indeed, when an entire Dependence is repos'd in it ; For Faith is mutual, it implies and requires Truſt and Belief in the Perſon to whom it is given ; Theſe two are Relatives, and, as ſuch, ſtand and fall together. The other Exception is, If the Promiſe were con- ditional, and mutual, and the Perſon to whom it was made, broke Articles firſt. For in this Caſe ( ſay ſome old Au- thors) Men are to be paid in their own Coin, and t He that breaks his Word, gives thoſe he deals with a Priviledge of doing ſo too ; according to that Declaration of the Roman Senator ; Voen you ceaſe to treat me as a Member of the Senate, I ſhall think my ſelf diſpenſed with from p tying you the Reſpect due to a Conſul. The falſe and perfidious Man - hath forfeited all his Natural Right to Truth and Fair-deal- ing 3, For the Obligations of this kind, ſo far as they are founded in Nature, are Reciprocal and Univerſal; and there.- . fore, whatever ſuch an one can challenge, muſt be from ſome Supervening Title. But whatever is indented for by Po- "Vult fibi quiſq; credi, & habita Fides ipſam fibi obligat Fi- dem. Fides requirit Fiduciam, & relativa ſunt. , j Fragentifidem fides frangatur eidem—-Quando Tu menon habes pro Senatore, nec ego Te pro Conſule. - - fitive Ch. 8. Of Fidelity, Perfidiouſneſs, &c. 5 17 ſitive Agreement afterwards, cancels all the Advantage, that might otherwiſe have been taken of his former Unfaith- fulneſs, and makes it Unreaſonable to revenge and reta- liate it. Theſe Two Caſes are generally look'd upon, as Reſervations from the general Rule of being punctual to one's Word ; and we ſhall do well to give even theſe a Careful Cenſideration, for perhaps there are ſome Junctures and Occaſions, in which They may not be able to bear us out ; or at beſt, if it be our Priviledge to regulate our ſelves by them, it is not our Duty to do ſo; and a Man may ſometimes ſee good Cauſe, rather to ſubmit to an In- convenience, and forego the Uſe of his Liberty, than to ſtretch it to the utmoſt Point, and do All, that in Point of Rigour he might well enough juſtifie himſelf in. But however ; allowing the moſt that can be made of the Mat- ter, where the Promiſe does not fall within the Compaſs of theſe Two Caſes, no Confideration relating to the Par- ty for whoſe Aſſurance it was made, can excuſe us from looking upon it as Sacred and Indiſpenſable. 1. For Firſt, a Man is obliged to keep his Word with Ch. 16. his Subjects, as will be proved and enforc'd more at large in the following part of this Treatiſe; and no Authority, though never ſo Arbitrary and Full, can ſet him above the Obligations of Conſcience in this particular. 2. So is he likewiſe towards his Enemy; witneſs That ſo much Celebrated Act of Regulus, the Edićt of the Roman Senate, againſt all thoſe to whom Pyrrhus had given leave to go to Rome upon their Promiſe of returning ; Witneſs a- gain Camillus, who would not ſo much as reap the Ad- vantage of another's Treachery, though he was to have had no part in the Fact it ſelf, but ſent the Children and their villanous Schoolmaſter bach to the Faliſci. - 3. Nor have conſidering Perſons thought themſelves at Liberty to be unfaithful even to Robbers, and notorious Malefactors; for Pompey was punctual with the Pirates and Banditi, and Auguſtus was ſo to Crocotas. 4. As little Privilege to be falſe does any Difference in Religion give one, as is ſufficiently evident from the In- ſtance of 3oſhua and the Gibeonites. The ſafer and more honourable Way therefore, is never to treat, or enter into any manner of Terms with thoſe whom we think unwor- thy of common Honeſty from us ;...to diſdain any Capitu- lation, and contracting any ſort of Alliance with Wretches we pretend ſuch Deteſtation to, is º more agreable to 3 the 518 Of Wiſdom. Book III. 5. The Mat- ter of the Promiſe. the Pretenſions Men make to Zeal and Religion. And to Perſons poſſeſt with ſo great an Abhorrence to Hereticks and Apoſtates, much may be ſaid for this. Perhaps indeed, no other Reaſon but extreme Neceſſity, and the hopes of reducing them ; or the Proſpect of ſome very great and Publick Good, by amicable Accommodations, ſhould be ſufficient to induce them to plight their Faith to them ; but if they condeſcend thus far, no queſtion they are bound to ſtand by their own Aćt and Deed ; for ſure They that are good enough to be treated with, are fit to have the Terms of the Treaty made good to them. As to our Third Conſideration, which reſpects the Mat- ter of the Promiſe, if That be unlawful or impoſſible to be performed by us, we are abſolutely diſcharged from the Obligation ; And in all Caſes of Injuſtice, the beſt thing we can do, is to diſclaim and get quit of it ; for the Performance would but aggravate our Crime, and make our Guilt double, by the obſtinate perſiſting in it. All other Excuſes, ſuch as Loſs, or Diſpleaſure, Difficulty, Inconve- / 6. The Man- #er of prº- Żniſing. nience, the Trouble, or the Expence of the Undertaking, are too Weak to paſs Muſter. And of this the old Ro- mans have left us many brave Examples, who very fre- quently * uſed to forego very conſiderable Advantages, rather than be guilty of any thing, that might bring Truth and Fidelity into Queſtion. - - The laſt Particular relates to the Manner or Formalities made uſe of in the Act of engaging ; for, as all the Ways of binding our Conſciences are not equally Solemn, ſo neither are all equally Obligatory ; and therefore ſeveral Doubts and Controverſies have been ſtarted upon this Point. Several Perſons are of Opinion, that a Promiſe extorted by Force, and Fear, or obtained Fraudulently and by Surpriſe, does Heave no Tye upon the Conſcience : Becauſe, in both theſe Caſes, the Will hath not it's free Courſe; nor can the Judg- ment act with that impartiality and clearneſs, which is ne- ceſſary to the making a juſt Determination: Others again tell you quite otherwiſe ; that the Will is not capable of being conſtrain'd ; and though the Choice be not abſolutely voluntary and free, yet there is Choice enough left to in- duce an Obligation. Accordingly we find, that 3 oſhua was far from thinking himſelf at Liberty; nay, that he was commanded to fulfil the Covenant made with the Quibus tantã utilitate Fides antiquior fuit. ~. . * - Gibeonites wº I Chap. 8. Of Fidelity, Perfidiouſneſ, &c. 519 Gibeonitei.; though perfectly tricked into it by Surpriſe, and a falſe Repreſentation of their Caſe. The moſt I think that can be ſaid, (if thus much may be ſaid) in Favour of the Former Opinion is, That a bare Promiſe may be diſpenſed with in ſuch Circumſtances; but if that Engage- ment were confirm'd by the Solemnity of an Oath, a Man muſt look upon himſelf to be bound by it : Bound, though not in Reſpect of ſtrict Equity, and the Merits of the Qauſe; yet in Reſpect to the Name of the Juſt and Holy : God, who was invoked as a Witneſs and a Judge upon that Occaſion. But that a Man in ſuch Caſes may be very well allowed to ſeek any Redreſs or Reparation, which the Laws will give him, and which he hath not poſitive- ly ty'd up his own Hands from requiring, for ſuch Violence or Deceit. And this Reſolution too ſeems to have ſomé Countenance given to it, by the Method 3 ſhua took, who, when the Fraud was diſcovered , did not treat thoſe Gi- beonites as common Friends and Allies, but made them Hewers of Wood, and Drawers of Water ; and though he • ſpared their Lives, revenged their Falſhood, and crafty Diſ- ſimulation, by keeping them under, and employing them in ſervile and laborious Offices. That the Formality of an Oath, and intereſſing Almighty God in our Promiſes adds to the Engagement, and makes it more forcible and bind- ing, no Doubt can be made ; for Breach of Faith is then a double Offence, and Aggravates that Unfaithfulneſs which is bad in its ſelf, with the Addition of wilful Perjury, which is much Worſe. But to think to tye Men up by new and fantaſtical Oaths, as ſome do, is altogether uſeleſs and un- neceſſary ; and ſo is the multiplying of common Oaths without ſome urgent and very important Occaſion. For it is certain, that honeſt Men need not be thus dealt with ; and thoſe that are not ſo, will be bound by nothing we can deviſe. The beſt and moſt commendable Courſe is to Swear by the Name of the One True Everlaſting God ; and to do this with a becoming Reverence, and ſerious De- liberation; as conſidering, that he is a ſevere Avenger of thoſe who take his Name in vain; that they muſt give Account for all breach of Faith, and Truſt ; but eſpecial- ly, that he will be very rigorous with thoſe, who by a moſt monſtrous Hardineſs, and deteſtable Impiety, take Ad- vantage of the Solemnity of an Oath ; and turn the Uſe of his Name into an Opportunity of deceiving the more effectually. Ll 4 For 52 o Of Wiſdom. Book III. 7. 3. For in Truth, if we confider the Matter nicely, it wifl appear that Perfidiouſneſs and Perjury are more execrable Villanies, and higher Affronts to Almighty God, than even bold and avowed Atheiſm it ſelf. The Atheiſt, who diſ- believes a God, acts more conſiſtently with his own Princi- ples, and diſhonours him leſs, in thinking there is no ſuch |Being at all ; than he who is perſuaded, and acknowledges that there is a God, and yet in deſpight of his own Senſe, and in defiance of the Divine Juſtice, mocks him, by call- ing upon him to atteſt a Lye, and will not ſtand by what he hath appealed to that All-ſeeing Judge for the Confir- mation of Now he that ſwears with an Intention to de- ceive, does plainly mock God ; and ſhews that he is afraid of Man only, but under no Concern for what God can do in vindication of his injured Honour. And ſure to be miſtaken in one's Notions concerning God, is much more pardonable, than to be rightly informed, and fully convinced, and yet to trample all thoſe Convićtions under Foot, and put a {tudied Affront upon the Deity, we confeſs, and pretend to adore. The Horrour and Abſurdity of Falſhood and Per- jury, cannot be more fully, and ſignificantly expreſt, than y that Character given of it, by One of the Antients, who calls this, The giving a publick Teſtimony of our Deſpi- ſing God, and ſtanding in Awe of Men. And what can be more Monſtrous, than to ſhew one's ſelf a Coward with regard to poor Mortals, of the ſame Frailties and In- firmities with our ſelves, and Heótors with regard to the Irreſiſtible Vengeance and Power of an Omnipotent God P But, beſides the horrible Impiety and Irreligion of ſuch Proceedings, the Falſe and Treacherous Man is a Traitor and Mortal declared Enemy to all Laws, and the very Being of Human Society : For mutual Confidence is the very Link, that holds all this together; and if once that Knot be untwiſted or broken aſunder, the whole Chain falls to pieces immediately. Words are then but Air and empty Noiſe ; and yet by theſe it is, that all Commerce can only be maintained ; ſo that when Credit can no longer be given with Safety to what People ſay, all Buſineſs is at an end, and no new Method can be found to hold them in. One Branch of this Fidelity remains yet unmention'd ; **ping ºf which is that of Keeping the Secrets imparted to, and in: Secrety. truſted with us. And This is more troubleſome than Peo- ple commonly imagine ; eſpecially, when they are ſuch as Great Men have either committed to us, or are concerned in, Ch. 9. Of Freedom in Advice and Tºroſ. 521 in. Were the Difficulties that attend this Duty rightly con- fidered, it would give a mighty Check to curious and in- quiſitive Tempers. For ſure, that Man acts moſt prudently, who declines this Truſt as much, and knows as little of this kind, as poſſibly he can : For he that thruſts himſelf under theſe Obligations, entangles himſelf in more Snares, and Uneaſineſſes, than he is aware of. For, beſides the conſtant Guard he muſt keep upon his Tongue, that none of theſe Things make their Eſcape, he falls under a Ne- ceſſity many times of lying or diſowning what he knows, in a manner irreconcilable with Sincerity and a Good Conſcience ; or at leaſt of evading it by ſuch mean and little Shifts, as are very grating to a Man of Generofity and a Great Soul. This therefore of avoiding ſuch Trou- bleſome and Dangerous Knowledge, is the firſt and beſt Advice. But if there be no Remedy, and Men will un- lock their Breaſts to us, notwithſtanding all the modeſt Pains we are at to be excuſed, the Next Rule is, To be Faithful and Exact in the ſafe Cuſtody of all committed to us under the Seal of Secrecy ; and to this Purpoſe to practiſe a prudent Reſerve in all our Converſation ; Which is an Art, that every Man cannot be Maſter of ; for it re- quires ſomething of a Diſpoſition in Nature, as well as Art and Induſtry afterwards, and the Senſe of that Obligation we are under in theſe Caſes ; Attendency to Silence, as well as a Cuſtom of it : For the open and gay Tem- pers are always in Danger ; and They who affect to Talk much in all Companies, will be ſure very often to ſay a great many Things, which ought to have been ſuppreſt. C H A P. IX. Truth, and Freedom in Adviſing and Reproving. BY Truth here, I mean the venturing to ſay bold and 1. unaccceptable things; for free and cordial Advice, and Its Excel. Reproof is a moſt wholeſome and admirable Medicine : lence. It is one of the moſt noble and uſeful Offices of Friend- ſhip ; the beſt Argument, that a Man's Affection is Sincere, when he is content to run the Hazard of giving ſome little Uneaſineſs, in Proſpect of doing a great deal of Good: For - 1t 522 of Wiſdom. Book III. 2. it is Profiting, and not Pleaſing, that every Friend ſhould aim at ; and one of the moſt important, as well as moſt ex- preſs Commands, which the Goſpel hath left upon us with regard to Converſation, is This; If thy Brother offend againſt thee, admoniſh him. There is no Man ſo perfect, ſo circumſpect in all his Be- The Uſeful haviour, as not ſometimes to ſtandin need of having this Phy- meſſ. 3. ſick apply'd to him. But Thoſe, who are proſperous and great in the World, ſeem to require it more than others; For there is ſomewhat in that Condition, which by natu- rally diſpoſing Men to a looſe Gayety, and unthinking Heedleſſneſs, makes it exceeding difficult and rare, to be very fortunate and very wiſe at the ſame time. But eſpe- cially Princes, who are always in view, and curiouſly watch'd; who ſuſtain a publick Character, and have an in- finite deal of Buſineſs conſtantly upon their Hands; who are fain to take things upon Truſt, from the Obſervation and Report of other People ; and who are uſed to have by much the greateſt part of what is true, and highly concerns them to know, conceal’d from them; Theſe Perſons above all others have very great need to be freely dealt with, and ſet right in their Proceedings: And they who are not ſo by the Perſons about them, either run a deſperate Hazard for want of it, or elſe are wife and penetrating, much above the rate of common Men, if they do well without 1L. And yet this Office, as neceſſary and uſeful as it is, is : **) diſcharg’d faithfully by very few. For indeed, few are ca- f fººt-, culty of it. pable of diſcharging it; There being Three Qualifications requiſite to capacitate Men for it. Theſe are, Judgment or Diſcretion; Freedom or Courage to ſpeak what one thinks; and Affection or Fidelity. All Theſe make the Compoſiti- on perfect; and all muſt concur, to give a Reliſh and due Temper to each other. But if Men had all theſe Accom- pliſhments, yet it is to be queſtion'd, whether they would put them in practice. So that the Difficulty is double : For very few undertake this ungrateful Office for fear of diſpleaſing; and of thoſe who have Sincerity enough to at- tempt, few have Skill enough to perform it as it ſhould be: Now This is an extremely nice Undertaking ; and if ill done, like a Medicine improperly given, tho’ never ſo. So- vereign in its own Nature, it puts the Patient to a World of Uneaſineſs, and is ſure to do more hurt than good. The Effect of it is only to harden him the more ; and thus : - pro | Chap. 9. Of Fredom in Advice and Reproºf. 523 - proof hath the ſame Operation that Flattery would have ; only with this Difference, that the One gives Pain and Re- ſentment, and the O.her Pleaſure and §. For, - as excellent and noble as Truth is, yet hath it not the Pri- vilege of being always ſeaſonable and becoming ; but re- quires a great many favourable Circumſtances to ſoften * and recommend it. For, let a Man's Intention and Mean- - ing be never ſo Holy, and the Subſtance of his Advice ne-, yer ſo excellent, yet there may be Faults in the applying it; and ſuch as, that it were as well, and perhaps much better let alone. Now, That we may know how to govern our ſelves in 4. , ſo very tickliſh a Point, I ſhall take the Liberty to offer Ruleſfºr if , theſe following Directions. Which yet are to be lookt up- on , as calculated for ſuch Perſons and Circumſtances, where ſomething of Diſtance, and Ceremony, and a Fear of being offenſive, may be expected. For, in caſe there be any intimate Familiarity, or particular Confidence; any Power or Authority in the Perſon reproving, that may ſet them above ſuch Formalities, then all the neceſſity of ob- ſerving theſe following Rules , is quite ſuperſeded. But They, who cannot pretend to the Privilege of an open and unreſtrain'd Freedom, will do well, 1. To have a due regard to Time and Place; for a great deal depends upon the Nicking of theſe Two. For Inſtance, It ſhould not be done at a Publick Entertainment, nor amongſt Perſons met together for Mirth and Diverſi- on ; for This is to be very impertinent, and to ſpoil good Company. Nor is it ſeaſonable, when we ſee the Party in ſome more than ordinary Trouble, Melancholy, and out of . Humour, or under ſome very ſore Affliction. This looks like an Act of Hoſtility, and barbarous Inſulting ; as if we took the Advantage of his Misfortunes, or Deječtion of Mind, and only waited for an Opportunity to grieve, and teaze, and quite oppreſs him; when his Condition calls rather for our Comfort, and Encouragement, and Aſſiſtance. It is an Act of great Cruelty to chide Men in Diſtreſs ; and Perſeus King of Macedon was ſo incens'd at this ill Treatment, that he killed two of his particular Friends, for preſuming to make this Addition to his Calamity. 2. It muſt not be done for all Faults indifferently ; Not for ſuch as are inconſiderable, and of no very ill Conſe- quence ; for This favours of Peeviſhneſs and Ill-nature, and . . . - betrays 524 Of Wiſdom. BookIII. betrays too much of Eagerneſs and Delight in this, at beſt ungrateful, Office. A Man will be apt to tell himſelf, that ſuch a Man is fond and glad of ſuch Opportunities, and makes uſe of them, more to gratifie his own Spleen, than with any Deſign of profiting his Friend. Nor yet ſhould it be done for very groſs, notorious, and dangerous Aëtions; ſuch as cannot but leave a Sting behind them, and the Enormity whereof he muſt needs be affected with, without our awakening his Conſcience, or taking the trouble of working him up to a Senſe of them. For he will be ſure, upon ſuch Occaſions, to dread the * and the Un- eaſineſs of an Admonition; and will fancy that we lie upon the Catch for his Fall, and labour to put him quite out of Conceit with himſelf. 3. This Admonition and Reproof, ought to be private, that there may be no Witneſſes of his Diſgrace; for it is very grievous to be publickly expos'd. We are told of a Young Man, who was ſo overwhelm'd with Shame and Confuſion at a Rebuke given him by Pythagoras, that he could not bear to out-live it, but immediately went and hang'd himſelf. And Plutarch delivers it as his Opinion, that the Provocation which enrag'd Alexander, and tranſ- ported him to the killing his old Friend Clytus, was not ſo much any Offence he took at what he ſaid, as the Rude- neſs of ſaying what he did before Company. More par- ticularly, yet, We muſt be ſure to forbear all Liberties of this kind, before thoſe Perſons, whoſe Approbation and E- ſteem, either the Perſon is ambitious and tender of, or the Character he bears renders neceſſary to him. And there- fore it is not to be done to either Husband or Wife before each other ; nor to a Parent before Children ; nor to a Ma- ſter before his Servants ; nor to a Miniſter or Teacher be- fore his Pariſhioners or Scholars. 4. It ſhould be deliver'd with a plain, eaſie, unaffected Freedom; ſomewhat that looks unſtudy'd, and as it were by the bye: And, to be ſure, without any regard to pri- vate Intereſt, or the leaſt Appearance of Paſſion and S. order. - 5. This is capable of being ſoften’d a little, by including our own ſelves, and not ſeeming to confine the Blame to Him alone, as if it were a ſtrange or particular thing; ex- preſſing our Senſe likewiſe in general Terms; as thus: p12 are all ºpt to forget our ſelves upon theſe Occaſions; One would - wonder Ch. 9. Of Freedom in Advice and Reproof. 525 wonder what Men think of, when they do ſuch things; or the like. º 6. A Man ſhould always begin with the Commendations of ſomething that is good or well-done in his Friend, and cloſe all with Tenders of Service and Aſſiſtance; (This ſweet- ens and takes off very much from the Smart and Severity of the Correction; and makes the neceſſary bitter Pill go down more glibly) And then by comparing theſe things to— gether, we may ſhew the Miſcarriage more evidently; as thus: Such a Thing becomes you, and you do mighty well in it 5 I wiſh I could ſay as much of this: Or, Good lack! what a dif- ference there is between ſuch an A&tion of Tours,and ſuch an one! Who could ever imagine that Pieces ſo unlike could ever be done by the ſame Hand 2 - 7. It is likewiſe adviſable, to expreſs the Fault in Phraſes as ſoft and gentle as we can, and ſuch as fall very much ſhort of the Enormity and real Proportion of the thing. For inſtance; inſtead of You have done very ill; to ſay, Sure you did not conſider what you did ; you were miſtaken, or not well aware; or the like. Inſtead of Have nothing to do with this Woman, why ſhould you ruine your ſelf upon her Account P. Pray never think of entertaing a Woman, who will certainly be the Ruin of you : Inſtead of deſiring him not to bear ſuch an one a Grudge ; to beg, that he would engage in no diſpute, nor concern himſelf with him. 8. Laſtly, When the Buſineſs is over, a Man muſt not immediately leave the Party with uneaſie Impreſſions upon his Mind; for theſe will but ferment there, and gall him; and therefore it is neceſſary he ſhould ſtay with him till all that Uneaſineſs be got over: In order whereunto, he muſt con- trive to turn his Diſcourſe upon ſome common entertaining Subject, which may divert the preſent remembrance of the Reprehenſion, and bring them to part very good Friends, and in perfect Humour. - C H A P. 526 Of Wiſdom. Book III. I. Flattery. C H A P. X. Of Flattery, Lying, and Diſſimulation. FL tely is a moſt dangerous Poyſon to all private Perſons, that drink and ſuck it in. But as for Princes, it is al- moſt the Only, the Univerſal Cauſe of their Ruin, and infi- nitely frtitſui in Miſchiefs to their Subjects and Government in general, by betraying them to, and ſupporting them in their Tyranny and Male-Adminiſtration. It is a Thouſand times worſe than Falſe-witneſs: That deceives and miſ-leads the Judge, it draws a Sentence from him, wicked and un- reaſonable in it ſelf; but not ſo with regard to Him; for his Will and Judgment are blameleſs : They proceed ac- cording as Matters appear in Evidence; and ſo the Man reſerves his Integrity ſtill: But here the very Mind and jī, is debauch'd; the Soul is charm'd and bewitch'd, made incapable of improving in the Knowledge of the Truth, and utterly averſe from the Love of it. It is a Rank and ſpreading Evil; for if once a Prince be corrupt- ed by Flattery, and fond of it, there is a neceſſity that all about him, who deſire to be well in his Opinion, and hope to make their Fortunes by his Favour, ſhould turn Flatterers. For Intereſt and Ambition will not fail to make Converts enough ; and the Rule theſe govern themſelves by, is to ſtudy and practiſe what they ſee agreeable, and likely to recommend them moſt to the good Graces of their Patron. Whatever can be ſaid to ſhew the Excellence of Truth, all That proves the Baſeneſs and Deformity of Flattery: They who eſteem and adore the one, muſt in proportion deſpiſe and deteſt the other ; which indeed is nothing elſe but the Corruption and Perverting of the Truth. It is a pitiful mean Vice, the Submiſſion of a poor degenerate Spirit ; an Effeminacy, and Weakneſs, as unbecoming a Man, as Gariſhneſs, and Affected Confidence is to a Woman, . * Not Friends and faithleſ, Flatterers differ more, Than a chaſt Woman, and a common Woore. Ut Matrona Meritrici diſpar erit, atque - Diſcolor, infido Scurræ diſtabit Amicus, Horat, Lib, *}. Upon 528 Of Wiſdom. Book III. diſguis'd with a Mask of Friendſhip, which it affects al- ways to wear, that one cannot very eaſily diſtinguiſh between them. It uſurps and invades all her good Of- fices, puts on her Air and Countenance, calls it ſelf by her Name, counterfeits her Voice; in ſhort, obſerves the Tone, the Meen, the Readineſs, the Zeal; ſo that you would ſwear it could be none but ſhe." The Bufineſs of Flattery is to pleaſe, and be taking : It pays marvellous Reſpect and De- ference, is very liberal in Praiſes, exceeding officious and eager to ſerve the Perſon apply'd to, and careful to be al- ways in good Humour; or indeed in any Humour that prevails, and will be moſt agreeable at that time. Nay, to ſhew how exquiſite the Hypocriſie of this Vice is, it goes a great deal farther, and ventures upon the laſt and higheſt, the ſevereſt and moſt dangerous Aët of Friendſhip, and is free and full in its Épî: and Reproofs. In own Word, the Flatterer's Care is always to profeſs and make himſelf believ'd much more ſincere and paſſionate in his Affection and Concern for the Perſon whom he addreſſes to, than he is or can be to Him in return. But all theſe boaſting and pompous Pretenſions notwithſtanding, there is not in the World any thing more deſtructive of true Friend- ſhip: Ill Language, Affronts, open and avowed Enmity, are not in reality greater Contradićtions, how different ſoever they are in Figure and outward Shew. It is the very Bane of all Sincerity and true Love ; they are irreconcilable, and cannot dwell together. * When once I am your Friend, I ceaſe to Flatter ; and when I begin to Flatter, from that very inſtant you may conclude me none of your Friend. And therefore that Obſervation is moſt true, f That the Wounds and Strokes of a Friend are better and more deſi- rable, than the Kiſſes of a Flatterer. Thoſe, tho' we feel ſome Pain in them, are yet well intended, and may contri- bute to our Benefit and Amendment. Theſe are ſoft and ſmooth, but full of Treachery and Miſchief; and the End of all thoſe kind Careſſes, is to keep us un- acquainted with our ſelves, and ſo to lead us hoodwink'd in- to Ruin. - Since therefore it ſo highly concerns us not to be miſta- ken upon this Occaſion, and ſince the knowing theſe two to very contrary Qualities aſunder, is no ſuch obvious and Non potes me ſimul Amico& Adulatore uti. f Meliora vulnera diligentis, quân oſcula blandientis. - - eaſie 53% of Wiſm. Book III. his Character, tho' he were ſure that he ſhould never be ta- ken notice of, or thank'd for it: And therefore the Inte- grity of his Heart and Intentions, often puts him upon ſtu- dying ſecret ways of obliging ; and, provided his own Duty be done, and his Conſcience ſatisfy'd, he can very well abate the publiſhing his Endeavours to ſerve his Friend. - 4. The Flatterer conſtantly yields the Prize to his Pa- tron, declares him in the Right in all he ſays, applauds his Prudence in all he does, and this without any other De- ſign, but only to pleaſe, and render himſelf agreeable. Hence it is, that he over-ſhoots the Mark ſo much, com- mending All without Diſtinétion, and All extravagantly and in exceſs. Nay ſometimes he will not grudge to do it at his own expence, and to leſſen his own Deſert, that he may magnifie his Patron's. Like Wreſtlers, that ſtoop and bend, only to ſhew the Cunning of their Play, and mend their Hold ; that ſo they may gain the Advantage of throwing the Adverſary a fairer Fall. Now a Friend goes to work plainly and bluntly ; Preference and Eſteem are of ſmall Confideration with Him ; nor is his Deſign ſo much to pleaſe and miniſter Delight, as to bring ſubſtantial Profit, and to do much Good; and what way this is done is of little concern to him ; he is not nice and ſcrupulous in the Choice of Methods; but, like a good Phyſician, confi- ders the Caſe and the Neceſſities of his Patient; and pre- pares his ſharp and painful, or his gentler Remedies, not according as they ſite the Palate, but the Exigencies of his Friend. Recovery and Amendment is his End and Buſineſs, and all things elſe are indifferent to him, except ſo far as T they may prove ſubſervient to this Great Deſign. 5. Sometimes he will needs take upon him to rebuke his Friend, but he does it ſo very aukwardly, that a Man may eaſily diſcern This to be only a Copy of his Countenance; and that at the ſame time he puts on the Hardineſs of a . Friend, his chief Care is not to incur Diſpleaſure by hand- ling Matters too roughly. To this purpoſe he will be ſure to fix upon light and trivial Faults only, or ſome very excuſable Defect, pretending himſelf blind all the while to thoſe that are groſſer, and much more obnoxious to Cenſure and Reproach. He will expreſs himſelf with great Severi- ty and Bitterneſs againſt Relations, or Acquaintance, or Servants, as if They were wanting in the D.ligence and Reſpects due from them. Or elie he will introduce the Li- - - berty Chap. o. Of Flattery, Lying, &c. 53 I berty he takes with a Pretence of ſome idle Stories he hath heard, and profeſs great Sollicitude to be inform'd of the Truth from his own Mouth, that ſo he may be ca- pable of doing him Service in a juſt Windication of his Innocence. And, when his Patron either denies the Fact, or excuſes himſelf, he will not fail to catch at this Op- portunity of exſpatiating in his Praiſe, “I confeſs, Sir, “ſays he, this was a wonderful Surpriſe to me, and what “I could not prevail with my ſelf to give Credit to. I “ was ſatisfied I knew you better; for how is it poſſible “you ſhould be guilty of any ſuch Thing 2 I told your “Enemies who taxed you with Injuſtice, that they, muſt “ pardon me, if I was peremptory to the Contrary. For “who could imagine that you ſhould invade another's “Right, who are ſo far from inſiſting Rigorouſly upon “ your own 2 One, who to my Knowledge is ſo Gene- “rous, ſo Bountiful, ſo Charitable, could never, you may “be ſure, paſs upon me for a griping or 'covetous Man. “Such Jealouſies, I ſaid, might find Entertainment with “Strangers, but with me, who have the Honour to be ſo “well acquainted with your Virtues, they would all go for nothing. Or elſe he takes Occaſion to chide him kindly, for having no more Care of himſelf, and expoſing that Terſon ſo much, which is of ſuch infinite Importance to the Publick ; as one of the Senators particularly is ſaid to have curried Favour with Tibe ills, in a full Sc- nate, after a very nauſeous and fulfome manner of Com- plementing. 6. In a Word ; I ſhall need to add but this One Mark of Diſtinction more. A true Friend always regards, and adviſes, and promotes that which is agreable to Reaſon, and Duty ; he conſults the Character and Circumitances of the Perſon ; and obſerves what is fitteſt and moſt be- coming ; but the Flatterer ſpies out a blind Side, and ſtrikes in with Pleaſure, and Intercſt, and Inclination. So that no Man is ſo proper an Inſtrument for corrupting Mens Principles, and ſoothing then in all manner of Ex- travagance and Vice : None ſo improper for the putting forward any thing of Virtue, or Difficulty ; or Danger. Indeed he is like an Ape, that ſerves to none of thoſe ne- ceſſary Uſes which other Creatures are aſſiſting to us in; but lº cut out merely for the Jcſt and Diverſion of Mankind. - -- M m 2 To 532 Of Wiſdom. Wook III. 5. Lying. To this Vice of Flattery, That of Lying is very near of Kin, and uſually goes along with it : And This is likewiſe of the ſame infamous Quality ; a mean, and diſhonoura- ble, and raſcally Vice. For what can be more Deſpica- ble and Baſe, than for a Man to ſpeak contrary to his own Knowledge and Senſe of Things P. The firſt and bold- eſt Step toward the Corruption of Manners, is the baniſhing Truth out of our Diſcourſe ; as on the Contrary, the Courage and Reſolution to be true, is, according to Pin- dar's Account of it, the Beginning and Foundation of a Brave and Eminent Virtue. But, beſides the Deſpicable- neſs of this Vice in it ſelf, it is likewiſe highly Deſtructive to Humane Society. For we ceaſe to be Men, and are looſe from all the mutual Tyes, and Securities poſſible to be had upon one another, when mutual Confidence, and Truth, the only ground of it, is loſt. Speech indeed is rightly ſaid to capacitate Mankind for Society ; but if once That be abuſed to Falſhood and Deceit, Silence is a Thouſand times the more ſociable Quality of the Two. If a Lye indeed were conſtant to it iclf, and wore but one Face, as Truth does, then there would be ſome Hopes at leaſt, and the Miſchief were more tolerable ; for we might depend upon it, that the direct Contrary of what the Lyar ſays is True. But alas ! it is our Misfortune, that the Reverſe of Truth hath a Hundred Thouſand fe- veral Shapes, and the Space it ranges in is Infinite. Good, (that is, Virtue and Truth) is certain and circumſcribed, ſtaked down to One ſingle Spot, and fixed beyond the Power of Variation, as there can be but One Way to hit the Mark. But Evil, (that is, Vice and Errour) is Infinite and Uncertain, and there are a Thouſand Ways to ſhoot beſide the Mark : For ſhort or beyond, too high or too low, on this or on that Side, all are wide of the Matter. Without all Doubt could Mankind be made duly ſenſible of the Horror, and miſchievous Conſequences of Lying, they would be ſo far from practiſing or giving the leaſt Countenance to ſuch Wickedneſs, that they would ſet them- felves to drive it out of the World with Fire and Sword; and think no Puniſhments too ſevere, no Methods too cruel for the utter Extermination of it. And This is a good Hint to thoſe, who make the Education of Youth their Care, with what Vigilance the very firſt Tendencies to this Evil ought to be obſerved, and the Growth of it prevent- cd and oppoſed. This ſhould be their firſt Buſineſs, and the Ch. Io. Of Flattery, Lying, &c. 53.3 the Checking of a poſitive and obſtinate Humor their next ; and both theſe ſhould be taken down betimes ; for otherwiſe the Corruption of Nature will be beforehand with us ; and it is ſcarce to be conceived indeed, how very early ſuch rank Weeds ſpring, and how prodigiouſly they ſhoot, if not nipt in the Bud. - But Men may be guilty of Lying in their A&tions, as well as in their pº ; for what elſe is all that Hypo- crifie and Diſſimulation, ſo generally practiſed in the World P This, I confeſs, is repreſented as an Accompliſhment, and hath obtain'd the Character and Reputation of Complaiſance and good Breeding. But yet, let the Men of refined Manners ſay what they will, it is in reality a Blemiſh and Diſhonour, a mean Submiſſion, and baſe Degeneracy of Soul, for a Man to appear abroad always in Diſguiſe. To walk with a Mask, and not dare to ſhew his Face to the World. Let Men talk of Honour as long as they will, Honour can never be conſiſtent with Diſſimulation; and He that is an Hypocrite is certainly the greateſt Coward, the moſt abject Slave. - Now, whoever he be, that ſets up this Trade, he will find enough to do to maintain his Credit, or his Eaſe by it. For a Hypocrite is under perpetual Conſtraint. And - what a Torment muſt it needs be, for a Man always to appear Different from what he is really, and in his own Nature ? What a conſtant Eye muſt he have upon every Word, and, Action, what Jealouſies of all he converſes with, what anxious Fears of being diſcover'd and expoſed 2 The Difficulty and Diſquiet of concealing one's Temper, is a perfect Hell upon Earth ; and the being found out is an intolerable Confuſion and Reproach. If there be ſuch a Thing as perfect Eaſe and Pleaſure attainable here below, it is certainly to be found only in a Freedom and Openneſs, and Security of Mind and Converſation. And a Man had better let the World ſee the Worſt of him, though he Hap- pen to be ſomething leſs in their Eſteem for his plain downright Behaviour ; than be always ſtraining to coun- terfeit ſome good Qualities which he hath not, or to keep ſome ill one's out of Sight. So Amiable, ſo Noble is this Frankneſs of Temper, that even Reputation it ſelf, as valuable as it is, cannot make ſufficient Reparation for the parting with it. But, beſides that this is a difficult and laborious Trade, it is a poor and paltry One ; for moſt Men Break of it in . M m 3 * - a very N 6. Hypocriff. 7 - 534 Of Wiſdom. Book III. a very little while. Diſſimulation cannot go very far ; It will be diſcovered at one time or other, and leave thoſe that depend upon it, in the Lurch. It is a common Ob- ſervation, and daily Experince proves it to be as true as it is common, that Nothing which is either, Violent or Counterfeit continues long. Herein, Art and Force differ from Nature, that They decay by Time, and This im- proves by it. And, when once ſuch Men are detected, all they get by it is, never to be truſted afterwards ; to have no Streſs laid upon what they Do, nor any Credit given to what they Say. Nay, Truth it ſelf ſuffers by this means, and can gain no reception, when it comes out of their Mouths. And how Deſpicable a Wretch is That, whoſe Authority is loſt, and whoſe Example goes for nothing; whoſe whole Life is look'd upon as one continued Banter ; and his moſt ſerious Aétions are thought to ſmell ſo rank of Trick and Deſign, that they only ſerve to awaken Mens Suſpicion, and warn them to be more upon their Guard 2 - Now, this is a Caſe capable of being miſunderſtood, and miſapply'd ; and therefore, as there is ſome room left for, ſo indeed there is great need of Prudence and Mo- deration, to prevent an Errour in the other Extreme. For if a Man's D poſition be crooked and deform'd ; if there be any thing vicious and offenſive to the World ; this ought certainly to be kept in ; or, to ſpeak more properly, be brought into Shape: For there is a vaſt Dif- ference between living eaſie and unconſtrained; and being rude, and ſlovenly, and careleſs in our Behaviour. We ſhould not take Pains to impoſe upon thoſe we converſe with ; but we are not therefore bound to turn their Sto- machs. A Man ſhould not tell a Lye ; but he is not oblig'd to tell all the Truth neither. That then, which we are to take Care of in this Point, is, to ſpeak as much as is convenient, and to be ſure that all we do ſpeak be True ; To diſtinguiſh between Twatling and penneſs in Converſation ; and in Behaviour between a Freedom conſiſtent with Sincerity and Good Manners ; and a Moroſe Indifference, which breaks through all º and declares War with all Decency and Re- pect. There are indeed Two ſorts of People, in whom Hy- pocriſie is in ſome Degree excuſable ; I might ſay indeed, Neceſſary and Becoming ; but the Reaſons which vindi- cate and uphold them in it, are very different from each other. Chap. 1 o 0f Flattery, Lying, &c. 535 other. The Firſt are Princes, who, as I have obſerved before, may ſometimes be obliged to diſſemble upon very important Confiderations. The Publick Good, the Safety of their Perſons, the Peace of the Government may require it ; , all theſe might be ruined and loſt, if the Counſels and Methods that ſupport them, were carried ſo openly, that every Stander by could ſee through, and pe- netrate into the bottom of the Governour's Deſigns. And therefore, taking the Condition of the World as it now ſtands, ſo full of Treachery and Villany; it is no Dero- gation to Juſtice or Religion to ſay, that Princes may be allowed ſome Meaſures in their Publick Character, which neither They, nor any other Man, is privileged to take in his private one. Would all their Subjects be Faithful and do their Duty, then indeed the Rules of Political, and Private Virtue would be the ſame ; but now Men muſt be governed, not according to what they ſhould be, but to what they actually are. And, as Laws, when made for the Reformation of Vice, ſuppoſe the worſt of Men; ſo the Adminiſtrators of thoſe Laws, muſt by their Warineſs and Wiſdom provide againſt the Worſt. The Second ſort of Diſſimulation in ſome Degree al- lowable, is in Women; and the Reaſon that enforces it, is Decency, and the Gracefulneſs of Modeſty and Reſerve, in Their Sex more eſpecially : For what would be inter- preted Freedom and Aſſuredneſs in a Man, would in one of them be condemned for Impudence. And therefore the little Diſguiſes in their Carriage and Looks, the making up their Mouth, and affected Ignorances, look pretty cnough ; and have a becoming Air of Baſhfulneſs and Innocence: And beſides, Theſe do no manner of hurt; for they paſs for Things of Courſe, and no body but Fools and Men ut- terly unacquainted with the World, can ever be impoſed upon by them. But This is a Trouble I might have ſpared my ſelf; for the Sex are ſo naturally addicted to Hypo- criſie, that it is very needleſs to recommend, or to inſtruct them in it. They are indeed a fair Outſide all over ; their Faces, their Cloths, their Talk, their Looks, their Smiles, their Tears, have all but too much of Art in them; and are contrived to make a Shew : Nay, which is ſtill Worſe, they do not only diſſemble with the Living, but with the Dead too ; The Long Weil, and the Dark Room ; the Bed ſo many Days, and the Chamber ſo many Weeks ; what are theſe but the Pomp and Pretence of Sorrow. M m 4 Appear- 536 of Wiſdom. Book III. Appearances which all indifferently are obliged to make, whe- ther for good or bad Husbands, in point of Decency, for- ſooth, and conformity to Cuſtom ; when yet there is ſo little at the Bottom of this compoſed Formality, and the Farce is ſo very Groſs, that many, of theſe diſconſolate Widows have much ado to hold their Countenances. It was obſerv'd long fince, that * Counterfeit Grief is always moſt Ambitious to ſlew it ſelf; and a Man would almoſt be tempted to ſuſpect, that all thoſe Solemn Fopperies, a- bove the Reaſonable and comely Expreſſions of Grief, were invented to make out in Oſtenation, what was want- ing in the Reality of their Concern. - * Jaétantitis moerent quae minus dolent. C H A P. XI. of Beneficance and Gratitude. THE Art of doing and receiving Good Offices, as That Reſpects the Beneficence of the Donor, and the Obligation and Gratitude in the Perſon to whom they are done, is a Subject of great Compaſs, and Extent; of great Uſe, but withal of much Intricacy, and Difficulty. There is not any one Inſtance, in which Men are more Deficient. Very few know, either how to oblige, or how to be obliged, as becomes them. It looks as if Goodneſs, and Deſert, and Gratitude were in the Declenſion ; and Re- venge and Ingratitude in the Aſcendent ; as if Thoſe were a Loſs and Diminution, and Theſe a Gain and Privilege; ſo eager and zealous we are generally in the former, ſo ſo very cold and indifferent, ſo averſe indeed to the lat- ter. Thus Tacitus obſerves, that t Thanks are reputed Trou- ble, but Revenge an Advantage ; and Seneca, That Injuries * and Affronts make much deeper impreſſion than' Favours and Kindneſs. We will therefore endeavour at preſent to cor- rect and redreſs this ſo common Defect ; (or Corruption rather,) of Mankind ; by treating at preſent, Firſt of Be- neficence, under which I comprehend Humanity, Liberali- + Gratia onerieſt, Ultio in quaſiu huberur. Altius injurie gäum merita de...endunt. - . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . ty, - -------- – Ch. 1 1. Of Beneficence and Gratitude. 537 ty, Charity or Relief of the Poor and Diſtreſſed ; and of their Contraries, Inhumanity, Niggardlineſs, Want of Com- paſſion: And then Secondly, of the Obligation, the Gra- titude of the Receiver, or the Neglect, and Ingratitude after ſuch Kindneſſes received. T Which Way ſoever we turn our Eyes, they are every ... I. where preſented with Arguments and Inſtances, for the Mºe to Exerciſe of Kindneſs, and Beneficence. God, and Nature, *fº. and Univerſal Reaſon, and Equity, All joyn in their In- vitations to it. In God, whether we conſider, his Eſſence, or his Providence, what he is, and what he does, we ſee nothing but Goodneſs; for He is the very Perfection of it, Goodneſs it ſelf; and That not a ſpeculative and un- profitable Excellence, but the moſt diffuſive and com- municative Goodneſs ; and * of all the Reſemblances and Imitations of the Divinity that Human Natire is capable of, the neareſt Approach we can make toward him is in this Particular ; as Tully very juſtly obſerved. And Pliny ; when one Man ſuccors another, he does an Aći more than Human, and becomes as it were a God to his Brother. The Inducements, which Nature furniſhes us with, are many. Such as, The ſenſible Satisfaction a Man feels in ſeeing the Perſon whom he hath obliged ; the Confideration, that he is a Perſon of the ſame Condition with himſelf, caſt "in the ſame Mould, wrought up of the ſame "Materials, a Tranſcript of the ſame Original; For t nothing is ſo a- greable to the Dićtates of Nature, as to aſſiſt one who is a Partaker of the ſame Nature ; It is a Generous and Noble Aét; worthy, a Perſon of Honour, and Virtue, to be uſe- ful and beneficial to others, to embrace and improve, nay, to ſeek Opportunities of being ſo. For the ... Liberal Man does not content himſelf with taking them when they come in his Way ; but he goes out to meet, and takes Pains to find them. And it is an old Adage, that Truly Noble Blood will neither let a Man tell a Lye, nor be want- / ing good Offices, where they are Seaſonable. There is ſomewhat of Greatneſs and commendable Pride in doing Kindneſſes, as there is of Meanneſs in having them done w - * Nulli re propius ad Dei naturam accedimus, quam Benefi- - centii. Dei eſt mortalem ſuccurrere mortali. - t Nihil tam ſecundum Naturam, quam juvare conſortem Naturae. ----- - - - - - - - - - - - 4. ... Liberalis etiam dandi cauſas quºrit. to 53.8 of Wiſdom. - Book III. to us; and this may be one convenient Senſe of that Say- ing, which St. Paul aſcribes to our Saviour; It is more Bleſ- fed to give than to receive. He that gives, gets himſelf Honour, and gains an Advantage ; he becomes Maſter of the Receiver, and acquires a Right in him ; as on the other hand, the Receiver ſells his Freedom, and is no longer at his own diſpoſal. The Firſt Inventer of Good Offices, (ſays one with Ingenuity enough) contrived the ſtrongeſt Fet- ters that ever were, to bind and captivate Mankind. Upon this Account ſeveral People have refuſed to accept of Kind- neſſes, becauſe they would not ſuffer their Liberty to be entrenched upon ; and particularly, if the Perſon confer- ring the Favour were one, whom they had no Kindneſs for, and did not care to be obliged to. For which Rea- Pfills. ſon it is, that the old Philoſophers forbid us to receive any Kindneſſes from ill Men, becauſe in ſo doing we let them get a Hank upon us. Ceſar uſed to ſay, that no Muſick was ſo charming in his Ears, as the Requeſts of his Friends, and the Supplications of thoſe in want. The Motto of Greatneſs is, jsk me. And that Command and Promiſe gives us a Noble Idea of the Majeſty of God, Call up- on me in the time of Trouble; ſo will I hear thee, and thou fhalt glorific me. This is likewiſe the moſt Honourable way of employing our Power and Plenty; which, while we keep by us, and in our own private Poſſeſſion, are called by the mean Names, of Houſes, and Lands, and Money ; but when drawn out into Uſe, and expended to the Benefit of our Brethren, they are dignified with new and Auguſt Titles; and from thenceforth commence Good Actions, Liberality, Magnificence, Alms, and Treaſures in Heaven. Nay it is not only the moſt Honourable, but the moſt prudent and profitable Method of trafficking with them ; * the gainfulleſt of all Arts, the beſt and leaſt hazar- dous Way of Merchandiſe ; for here the Principal is ſecu- red, and the Intereſt ariſing upon it riſes exceeding high. And, to ſay the very truth, no part of what we have is ſo properly our Own, none turns to ſuch a prodigious Increaſe, to comfortable Account, as that which we expend upon good Uſes. What lies by us is lock'd up, and hid pri- vately ; it lies and waſts ; or at leaſt it never grows upon our Hands; and it is ſure to give us the Slip at laſt, either by fome of thoſe infinite Accidents, by which all ſuch Things - - atc Chap. 1 1. Of Teneficence and Gratitude. 539 are liable to be ſnatch'd from Us; or by that certain and inevitable Separation, by which Death will ſhortly ſnatch Us away from Them. But ſo much of theſe as is thus put out, can never fail, never be wreſted from us ; never ruſt, or decay, or lie buried in Unprofitableneſs. Hence it was, that Mark Anthony, when depreſt, and at an Ebb of Fortune ſo low, that he had nothing but Death left at his own Diſpoſal, cryed out, that * he had left All, except what he had given away. And thus you ſee, what a brave, and noble, and becoming Temper, this Compaſſionate, and good Natured Frame of Soul is ; how worthily a ready Inclination to do Good to all the World, attracts the Love and Admiration of all that confider it ; How Amiable and Engaging, how Powerful and Irreſiſtible the Charms of Generoſity are. As indeed, on the other Hand, nothing is ſo Mean and Sneaking, ſo Deteſtable and Deſpicable, ſo Deformed and Unnatural, as Hard-heartedneſs, and Inſen- ſibility of other Peoples Misfortunes; It is therefore de- ſervedly ſtyled Inhumanity ; to intimate by that Name, that ſuch People are Monſters, and not Men. And, as the Vices themſelves, ſo the Source and Cauſes of them ſtand in direct Oppoſition to each other. For, as Beneficence ſprings from Greatneſs and Gallantry of Spirit, ſo unreaſo- nable Parſimony and Hard-heartedneſs is the Spawn of Cowardice, and Brutiſh Degeneracy of Soul. - Now, there are two ways of becoming Beneficial to our 2. Neighbours ; either as we miniſter to their Profit, or to ºver"; . their Pleaſure. The Firſt procures us Admiration and ſ” ºf *. Eſteem ; the Second Love, and good Will. The Firſt is much more valuable, becauſe it regards Mens Neceſſities and Diſtreſſes; it is acting the Part of a Tender Father, and a True Friend. There is likewiſe a Difference in theſe Acts of Kindneſs themſelves; Some are due from us, ſuch as the Laws of Nature, or poſitive Inſtitution require at our Hands ; Others are free, and what we are under no expreſs Obligation for, but the Effect of pure Choice, and Love. The Latter of theſe Two ſorts, ſeem to be more Brave and Generous ; But yet the Former too, when diſ- charged with Application, and Prudence, and ſincere Af- fection, are very Excellent and Commendable, though they have the Nature of a Debt, and are ſuch as we cannot be faithful to our Duty, and diſpenſe with our ſelves in. * Hoc habeo quodcunq, dedi. Now w 54o of Wiſdom. Book III. 3. Internal Now the true Beneficence or Kindneſs is not properly in the Gift it ſelf, that which a Man ſees, and feels, and taſts; and Exter- this is too groſs a Notion; and all we that can allow, is that mal. Theſe are the Matter, the Signs, and the Demonſtrations of our Kindneſs; but the Thing it ſelf is the Diſpoſition and good Heart. The Outward and viſible part may be very ſmall and inconſiderable; and yet that within may at the ſame time be wondrous great. For This may have pro- ceeded from an exceeding Eagerneſs and Affection; a hun- ger and thirſt of doing good; watching, and contriving, and ſeeking Occaſions for it; and eſteeming ſuch Aétions in our Saviour's Terms, One's Meat and Drink; ſnatching them as greedily, and receiving as ſenſible a Satisfaction and De- light from them, as from the moſt neceſſary Refreſhments, by which this Life of ours is ſuſtain’d A Man may have given to the very utmoſt of his Ability, and by this means -exhauſt that little Store, which is ſcarce ſufficient for his own Occaſions ; or he may part with that which is parti- cularly valuable and dear to him. Theſe are the Conſide- rations, that enhanced the value of the Widow's Mite; and render'd one ſmall piece of Money, not equal only, but far ſuperiour to all the large Donations of the Rich -Contributors. And thus Heathen Authors have likewiſe concurr'd in their Eſtimate of good Works. * In every Be- mefit, ſay they, we are to have a more than ordinary reſpect to that, which a Man by relieving his Neighbour, ſireightens him- felf in ; and for the ſake of another's Convenience and Advan- tage, poſtpones and forgets his own. On the other Hand, , where the Gift it ſelf is large, the Obligation may be very ſmall; and indeed, in great Gifts there are ſome Circum- ſtances, which moſt commonly make it ſo. For ſuch are beſtow'd frequently with Unwillingneſs and Reluctancy : They expect to be much intreated, and long attended #: them, and take time to confider, whether they hall beſtow them or nor: Now This hath too much of Pomp and For- mality in it; ſuch a Man is deſirous to magnifie his own : Bounty ; and after all, he gives more to gratifie his own Vanity and Ambition, than to ſupply the Neceſſities of them that want ; and ſo Himſelf is the Giver and Recei- ver both. But that which gives another very juſt Prefe- rence in the Caſe before us, is, That the Exenal Benefit may ... In Beneficio Hoc ſuſpiciendum, quodalteri deditablaturus ſibi, utilitatis ſue oblitus. - be .* a Ch. 11. Of Benficence and Gratitude 541 be preſently wreſted from us again; or if not by Fraud and Force, yet it may be ſpent, or loſt; it may decay upon our Hands, and in proceſs of time vaniſh quite ; but the inward Diſpoſition, with which it was conferred, is permanent and firm. The Liberty, or the Health, the Wealth, or Honour, or Preferment beſtow'd upon us, may by ſome freſh Acci- dent be loſt in an inſtant; but ſtill the Kindneſs and the Ob- ligation remains entire. Now the Directions, by which a Man may do well to • , govern himſelf in the exerciſe of this excellent Virtue, are Rule for ſuch as follow. Beneficence. Firſt, With regard to the Perſons; who are the proper Objects of our Liberality, and whether it be fit to extend it to All, as their Wants, and our own Abilities furniſh Op- portunities for it. This is a very reaſonable Enquiry, and highly neceſſary to be reſolvd ; becauſe, by doing good to wicked Men, and ſuch as do not deſerve our Kindneſs, a Man may ſeem to be guilty of a great many Faults at once. This derives Cenſure and an ill Name upon the Do- nor, and expoſes his Bounty to very vile Interpretations ; It hardens and ſupports ſuch People in their Wickedneſs and Extravagance; breeds Envy and malicious Thoughts; takes away all Diſtinctions between the Good and the Bad, by allowing the ſame Countenance and Encourage- ment to Vice, which is due to Virtue and Deſert. For certainly thoſe Aſſiſtances, which depend upon our own free Choice, and are the Effect of Grace, and not any Debt by virtue of Obligation and Duty, Worth and Goodneſs have the beſt Title to ; but yet extreme Neceſſity, and the ge- neral Good of Mankind lay all in common. In theſe two Caſes none are excluded, but even the Wicked and the In- grateful have Right to come in for a Share, if their Ne- ceſſities are urgent ; and if they be ſo mingld and inter- ſpers'd with the Good, that One cannot enjoy the Benefit, without the Other partaking of it too. And undoubtedly it is much better to do good to thoſe who do not deſerve it for the ſake of them that do ; than to with-hold our Adi- ſtance from thoſe that do deſerve, in revenge, and for the diſcouragement of Them who do not. Accordingly we ſee, that God ſets us a daily example of Univerſal Beneficence, He cauſeth his Sun to riſe on the Evil and on the Good; and gi- veth Rain to the juſt and to the Unjuſt. Theſe are the Ef- fects of a general Providence: But then he beſtows, over and above theſe, ſome ſpecial Bleſiings, which are *... CCIS 54? Of Wiſdom. Book III. fects of a diſtinguiſhing Providence; There he makes choice of his own Faithful and Beloved ones;and that Rule mention'd by our Bleſſed Lord takes place; It is not meet to take the children's Bread, and to caſt it unto Dogs. * There is a vaſt deal of difference (ſays the Philoſopher) between not exclu- ding a Min, and making him your Choice. In Caſes of Ex- tremity, when Affliction and Neceſſity cry aloud for preſent Redreſs and Aſſiſtance, we ſhould extend our Charity with- out Diſtinction of Merit, and it will not ſerve us to ſay, that Men are unworthy. i Nature calls upon us to be ſer- viceable to all without exception ; and the Conſideration of his being a Man is ſufficient to excite our Compaſſion, when Opportunities of doing Good offer themſelves to us. Humanity bids us bear a tender regard, and lend our En- deavours to thoſe that ſeek, and ſtretch out their Hands to implore our help ; not to purſue them, who turn their Backs upon us: And our Kindneſs is much more due, much bet- ter beſtow'd, where we are able to do good, than where They who receive it are capable of doing good to Us. It is an Act of Generoſity to take the weaker Side, to ſup- port thoſe that are ſinking, to heal, a broken Fortune, and ſupport a drooping Spirit, and to rob the Conqueror of his Pride and Triumph, by ſnatching the Spoils, and reſcuing the vanquiſh'd Prey out of his Hand. Thus Chelomis is ſaid to have done. She was both the Wife and Daughter of a King. Theſe two Princes had a Diſpute with one ano- ther; in which , while her Husband had the Advantage, The ſhewed her ſelf a dutiful Daughter, and follow'd her Father's Fortunes, never forſaking him in his greateſt Di- itreſs ; but when the Chance of War turn'd, and caſt the Scale on the other ſide, then She turn'd too, and left her Father to enjoy his Proſperity ; and thought This a pro- per Seaſon to exert the Affection and Fidelity of a Wife, by ſticking cloſe to her Husband in his Calamitous Con- dition. - - A Second Rule for the Exerciſe of this Virtue is to do it frankly, and cheerfully ; Not grudgingly, or of neceſſity, ſays St. Paul; for God loveth a cheerful giver. And ... Tºe Kind- neſs you do is doubly welcome, when what is ſeaſonable and * Multum refert, utrum aliquem non excludas, an eligas. + Hominibus prodeſſe Natura jubet ubicunque Homini bene- ficio locus. - - ... Bis et gratum, quod opus e?, ſi ultro offeras. w yieceſſary * Chap. 1. Of Benficence and Gratitude. 543 neceſſary comes of its own accord, without ſtaying to be ask'd, or preſs'd to it. For ſo much of Entreaty and Attendancé as it coſts, ſo much of the Value and Satisfaction is abated. And * No Man takes any great joy in being beholding to a Man for that which he did not ſo properly receive, as extort. That which is gotten by Importunity is dear bought : He that obtains by dint of asking, ought not to eſteem his Supply a Gift; for Attendance, and Addreſs, and earneſt Supplications are a very high Price, and pay well for the Purchaſe. He that asks, humbles and 㺠himſelf; he acknowledges himſelf inferiour; is aſhamed and out of Coun- tenance; pays mighty Deference and Reſpect to the Party apply'd to ; and the true Engliſh of all his Behaviour is that beggerly Form, Tour Petitioner, as in Duty bound, &c. This is the very Ground of what I obſerv'd of Ceſar; it was the Pride of his Heart that made him ſay, after the Defeat of Pompey, That He never took ſo much Delight in any thing, as in being ſupplicated and ſought to ; and, to gratifie his own Vanity in this particular, he gave All, even his Enemies, ſome Hopes of obtaining their Requeſts in time, that ſo he might drill them on to repeat and conti- nue their Applications to him. And what can we make of This? It was not out of any good Intentions to others, but meerly to pleaſe himſelf, that he ſhew'd himſelf exora- ble, and eaſie of Acceſs. For Kindneſs comes eaſie; and therefore as an Emblem of its doing ſo, the Graces of old were deſcribed and painted, with looſe, tranſparent Gar- ments ; not girt cloſe about their Bodies , but flowing and free ; to ſhew, that Favours ſhould have nothing of Trick or Deſign, nothing ſtrait-lac'd, or of Conſtraint in . them. A Third Qualification neceſſary to recommend any Fa- vour, is the conferring it readily, and out of Hand; This indeed ſeems to have ſome Connexion and Dependence upon the former. For all Kindneſſes are to be rated by the Good-Will and Diſpoſition of the Donor; And f He who delays his Relief, was ſo long in a State of Unwil- lingneſs to give it. And as that Loathneſs is a very great Rebate, ſo the ſpeedy Complyance and Alacrity of the * Nemo lubenter debet, quod non accepit,ſed expreſſit. Non tulit gratis, qui accepitrogans; imõ nihil charius emitur, quam quod Precibus. - f Qui tardè fecit, diu noluit. Mind 6. 544 Of Wiſdom. Book III. Mind is a great Enhancement, and doubles the Gift. That cold Indifferency, and thoſe trifling Put-off's, commonly practiſed upon ſuch Occaſions, are approv’d by no Body but Men of Inſolence, who make it their Diverſion to ban- ter and abuſe People : For Diligence and Diſpatch are commendable in all Caſcs, and in none more requiſize than in This pow before us. There are Five different Methods of proceeding in it ; Three of which are liable to Cenſure, and the other Two as worthy of Commendation. A Man may deny, but he may keep one in ſuſpenſe and Expecta- tion a great while firſt ; This is a double Injury. He may refuſe immediately, or he may grant at laſt ; and both theſe amount much to one, when the Matter comes to be fairly computed ; at leaſt, ... He that is ſoon ſaid Nay, is leſ, deceiv'd. The Fourth is to grant ſpeedily ; and This is very well: But the Beſt of all is, To prevent a Re- queſt; to foreſee Men's Wants and Wiſhes, and never put them to the Expence of asking at all. A Fourth Commendation is the Giving without any proſpect of a Requital; and indeed. This is the very thing, wherein the Virtue of Beneficence chiefly conſiſts; for when once you make it mercenary, it ceaſes to be a Virtue. * There is a great deal leſs Kindneſs where there are Ex- pećtations cheriſh'd of the Benefit reflecting back again up- on the firſt Mover. But when there is no Opportunity, no Poſſibility of a Return ; nay, when Matters are carry'd ſo privately, that the Party oblig'd does not ſo much as know his Benefactor, then the Benefit ſhines in its full Luftre. If a Man ſtudy the Point of Retaliation, he will give but ſlow- ly, and by Peace-meals; becauſe this is the thrifty way of being as little out of Pocket as he can. Now it were much better to renounce all Thoughts of being paid again, than to be ſlack in doing good ; becauſe by coveting this "Re- turn, which is accidental only, and foreign to the purpoſe, he loſes that which is the true and natural Recompence, the inward Complacency of Mind, and the raviſhing Satisfacti. ons which reſult from a Senſe of doing good. A Man ſhould not need to be twice intreated for the ſame thing. For, as the being guilty of Injuſtice is of it ſelf abominable and baſe, and there needs no other Conſideration, than the Diſ- honour and Obliquity of the Thing to defer us from it; ſo ... Minus decipitur, cui negatur celeriter. * Tunc eſt Virtus dare Beneficia non reditura. the ſ - Ch. 1 1. Of Beneficence and Gratitude. 5.45 the doing Good is a generous and becoming Aét, and it is a Fault to want any other Motive, more than its Native Beauty and Excellence ; the ſtaying till we are argu'd and importun'd into Matters of this Nature, betrays either much Ignorance, or great Indifference. . In a Word, f To keep ones Eye upon the Return, and the Account our Kindneſs is like to turn to, is not properly doing good with our Sub- ſtance, but turning the Penny, and putting it out to Inte- reſt ; Theſe are Methods too diſtant to be reconcil'd, and confounded together ; and ... we ſhould always diſtinguiſh between Giving, and driving ſuch a Trade. Such Men are right enough ſerv'd, when their Expectations are diſappoint- ed. As That Woman muſt not pretend to Honour an Virtue, who denies her Lover, only to inflame his Paſſion the more, and in hopes that he will refiew his Courtſhip ; ſo That Man muſt not think to paſs for Liberal and Gene- rous, who ſends away his Petitioner to Day, that he may ſee him again to morrow, or expends that which he hopes will ſhortly come home to him. For this Reaſon Heſiod, and the old Poets, deſcrib'd the Graces in a State of Vir. ginity; that no Man when he does good Offices, ſhould have regard to multiplying and increaſe. And eſpecially this falls infinitely ſhort of a Chriſtian's Virtue, whoſe Ma- ſter hath poſitively commanded him, upon theſe Occaſions, to hope for nothing again, to look at no other Recompence than that diſtant and future one, reſerv'd for him by his Paymaſter in Heaven; and hath deſcrib'd the very Hea- thens and Publicans, the moſt ignorant and moſt ſcandalous ſort of Men by this Character, that even They will give and lend to thoſe, from whom they have any hopes of re- ceiving as much again. - - Another Rule is, To oblige Men in their own way, ſo as may be moſt to the ſatisfaction of the Receiver; for this convinces him, that what we do of this kind, is entirely for his Sake and Service. And here we ſhall do well to take notice, that there are two ſorts of good Offices. Some are ſuch, as derive Credit and Honour upon the Receiver, an theſe ſhould be contriv'd in as publick a manner as poſſible; Others tend to his Profit only ; they ſupply his Wants, or ſupport his Weakneſs, or cover his Shame, or aſſiſt him in i Non eſt Beneficium quod in quaeſtūm mittitur. ... Demus Beneficium, non foeneremus. Dignus eſt decipi, guide recipiendo cogitavit, cum daret. N n ſome 546 Of Wiſdom. Book III. Eccluſ. XXXIV. 18, 20. IO. ſome other Neceſſity or Diſtreſs. And theſe ſhould be car- ry'd with all the Privacy imaginable ; ſo much that, if it. be poſſible, none but the Perſon himſelf ſhould know it : Nay, if that can any way ſerve his Intereſt, or be more acceptable to him, it will be very fit and prudent to keep Him in Ignorance too; to let the Kindneſs drop into his Mouth, and convey it to him under-hand. For many times a Man's Circumſtances require a Relief, which he is out of Countenance to accept; and there is a Tenderneſs due to the Modeſty of Perſons reduc’d by Afflićtions and Caſualties, who cannot change their Souls with their. Fortunes. Be- ſides, that all divulging of Kindneſs is perfectly uſeleſs to one that does it upon a true Principle; for a Man's own Conſcience cannot poſſibly be ignorant of his Merit, and this fingle Witneſs is as good as Ten thouſand others. . It muſt likewiſe be done without the Detriment or juſt Offence of any otherPerſon whatſoever; but eſpecially without the leaſt Violation of Equity and Juſtice. For a Man can- not with any tolerable Senſe be ſaid to do good, when he does ill at the ſame time; Thoſe that want our Relief ought to have it; but we muſt not relieve Them at other People's Expence. What the Wiſe Man ſays of the Hypocrite's Piety is every whit as true of his Liberality and Charity, He that ſacrificeth of a thing wrongfully gotten, his Offering is ri- diculots, and He is as one that killeth the Son before his Fa- ther's Eyes. A Seventh Qualification is, To do it prudently and con- ſiderately. A Man is ſometimes very hard put to it to an- ſwer People's Requeſts, and at a loſs, either how to grant, or how to refuſe them. This is a Difficulty owing to a very ill Diſpoſition common to moſt Men, but moſt pre- dominant in thoſe that make the Requeſts; which inclines them to reſent a Denial, tho’ never ſo reaſonable in its ſelf, and never ſo tenderly expreſt. Some by this means are driven to a very poor, and indeed a very diſhoneſt Refuge; which is, To promiſe every thing to every Body, tho’ they are ſenſible oftentimes, that it is not in their power; and, which is ſtill worſe, conſcious to themſelves, that it never was in their Intention to make it good ; but, all this notwithſtand- ing, they ſhift off the Difficulty, till it comes to the very Point of Performance; and truſt to ſome Accident or other, to bring them off, by making ſuch an Alteration in their Affairs, that the Obligation ſhall ceaſe: Or elſe, if it be ſtill expected, that they ſhould ſtand by their Fº - OInc Chap. 11. Of Beneficence and Gratitude. 547 ſome paltry. Evaſions are laid hold of in their Excuſe: But ſtill the Evil Day is put far from them ; and the Suitor's Mouth is ſtopp'd for the preſent. Now All this is quite wrong, and a miſerable Inſtance of Human Frailty; for no Man ought to promiſe, or encourage the Expectation of any, thing which he either is not able, or may not lawfully, or does not really and ſincerely deſign, to make good to the uttermoſt. And when he finds himſelf at a Bay, enclos'd between theſe two Difficulties, of making a Promiſe, which is either, unjuſt, or inexpedient, or diſhonourable and unbecoming his Character to fulfil; or elſe of giving a De- nial, which is ſure to be ill taken, and breed Miſchief and Diſcontent; the beſt Courſe to extricate himſelf, is to break, to evade the Blow ; either by declining a poſitive Anſwer, or elſe by wording his Promiſe ſo cautiouſly, and in gene- ral Expreſſions of Civility and good Inclination, that the Perſon may have nothing of a punctual Engagement to fa- ſten upon. Thereºs, I confeſs, ſomewhat of Management and Cunning in doing ſo, which may make this Advice ſeem ſtrange and inconſiſtent, with that Frankeſs of Tem- |. and Sincerity in Converſation, which I have been ately recommending ; but we are to confider this as a Caſe of Neceſſity, that when Men will be unreaſonable, we muſt deal with them as we can ; and that they deſerve at leaſt to be thus treated. - - An Eighth neceſſary Ingredient is, That al! Things of this Kind be done with a true Spirit of Humanity, and ſincere Affection ; for ſuch a Temper will be very ſenſibly concern'd for the Benefit of all Mankind; but more particularly it will bear a very tender regard to the Miſeries of the Indi- gent and Afflićted ; which is a Virtue more particularly di- ſtinguiſh'd by the Name of Mercy and Pity. Thoſe who want theſe Bowels, are Irregularities and Deviations from Nature, and ſo diſtant from Grace and Goodneſs, that the Apoſtle reckons This, as one of the Characters of the laſt and worſt Times. But then the Compañion I mean here, is a Brave, and Maſculine, and Generous Quality; not a Softneſs and Effeminacy of Soul, which melts into Tears, and creates Perplexity and Diſorder of Thought. For This is a faulty Paſſion, ſuch as weak and wicked People are capable of falling under ; concerning which I have already made ſome Remarks in its proper Place; and demonſtrated, that there is a criminal and fooliſh Pity, as well as a wiſe, well-govern'd, and commendable one. We ought in- N n 2 decd I 1. 548 Of Wiſdom. Wook III. 12. I 3. deed to ſuccour the Afflićted ; but we muſt not afflićt our ſelves for them, nor make their Miſeries our own. This were unprofitable to Them, and greatly prejudicial to Us ; nor may we ſtrain a Point of Decency or Duty upon their Account ; for Charity cannot diſpenſe with Juſtice, nor ſet aſide our other Obligations. God himſelf hath poſitively forbidden us to favour a Poor Man in his Cauſe. And Gcd Himſelf and the Saints are ſaid to be Pitiful and Com- paſſicnate ; but yet not ſo, as to give any Diſturbance to the Perfection of their own Happineſs; any more than to impair the Perfection of their Holineſs; in the Me- thods made uſe of for the ſuccour of thoſe they do ity. p A Ninth Rule is, to avoid Boaſting of our Kindneſs, and all manner of unneceſſary Publication of it. This is a ſort of Upbraiding and Reproach ; it cancels the Obligation quite, and is the moſt invidious way of making Men our Enemies; by turning our Favours into Qrovocations; and therefore it is very well obſerv'd to this purpoſe, That he who receives a good Turn, ſhould never forget it; but he who does one, ſhould never remember it.. A Tenth is, To proceed, and not be weary of well- doing, but keep our old Favours always freſh, by the Ad- dition of new one's. This will be a powerful Charm to at- tract the Affection of all the World,and make Men ambitious of our Friendſhip. Nor ſhould a Man ever repent of his paſt Obligations, tho' ſenſible, that he hath had the Misfor- tune to ſcatter his Secd in a barren and ungrateful Soil. * Let even the Miſc ºriage of your Kindneſs give you Satisfaāī- on, (ſays the Philoſopher) and let not any ſuch Expreſſion eſ- cape you, as, I wiſh I had never done ſo ; For indeed there can be no juſt Foundation for grudging our Kindneſs. The Un- thankful Wretch injures no Body but himſelf; and the Fa- your, that was miſplaced, is not utterly loſt or thrown away, it is devoted to a Holy and Excellent uſe, and cannot be deſtroy'd or profan'd by the Receiver's Fault. If another will needs be wicked, and act otherwiſe than becomes him, this can never juſtifie my ceaſing to be good. But further, The generous and noble Spirit diſtinguiſhes it ſelf by Per- ºverance ; and triumphs in the Conqueſt of Ingratitude and Ill-nature, when invincible Beneficence hath heaped Coals º: Beneficii tui etiam infoelicitas placeat : nuſuam hac vox' Vellem non feciſe. * . - , - . - v- -- " - of Ch. 1 1. of £eneficence and Gratitude. 549 of Fire upon their Heads, melted them down, and ſoftned them into good Temper, and a better Senſe of Things. So ſays the Moraliſt, * A Great Soul bears the ingrateful Man ſo long, till at laſt he makes him grateful; for olſtinate and reſo- lute Goodneſs will conquer the worſt of Men. - The Laſt Direction I ſhall lay down upon this Occaſion is, That when a thing is given, we ſhould let a Man uſe and enjoy it quietly, and not be troubleſome and unſeaſon- able with him ; like ſome, who when they have put one into any Office or Preferment, will needs be thruſting in their Oar, and execute it for him: Or elſe procure a Man ſome confiderable Advantage, and then make over what proportion of the Profits they ſee fit, to themſelves. Re- ceivers in ſuch Caſes ought not to endure the being thus im- poſed upon; and any Reſentments or Refuſals made upon this Account, are by no means the Marks of Ingratitude, but a preſervation of their own Rights. And whatever the Benefactor may have contributed to our Preferment, he wipes out the whole Score, and acquits us of all our Obligations, by theſe imperious and buſie Interpoſitions. The Story is not amiſs concerning one of the #. who being preſs'd hard by one of the Cardinals to do ſomewhat inconvenient, or perhaps unjuſt, in his Favour; and (as a Motive, which was thought irreſiſtible, or at leaſt a Reſentment which he look'd upon as reaſonable in caſe of refuſal) the Cardinal re-minding him that His Intereſt had been formerly at his I 4. Service, and his Popedom was owing to it; His Holineſs . very pertinently reply'd, If You made me Pope, pray let me be ſo, and do not take back again the Authority you gave 2776 - After theſe ſeveral Rules for the directing Men in the Ex- erciſe of Beneficence, it may be ſeaſonable to obſerve, that there are Benefits of ſeveral ſorts; ſome of them much more acceptable than others, and thus ſome more, and others leſs engaging. Thoſe are moſt welcome that come from the Hand of a Friend, and one whom we are ſtrongly diſpos'd to love, without any ſuch Inducement: As, on the contra- ry, it is very grievous and grating to be oblig'd by one, of whom we have no Opinion, and deſire of all things not to be indebted to. Thoſe are likewiſe ſo, which proceed from a Perſon whom we have formerly oblig'd our ſelves; Optimi & ingentis animi eſt tamdiu ferre ingratum, donec feceris gratum ; Vincit malos pertinax Bonitas. - N n 3 becauſe I 5. 55o Of Wiſdom. Book III. becauſe This is not ſo much Gratuity, as Juſtice and Pay- ment of Arrears, and ſo draws very little or no new Debt upon us. Such again are thoſe done in a time of Neceſſi- ty, and when our Occaſions were very urgent: Theſe have a mighty Influence ; they utterly deface all paſt Injuries and Miſunderſtandings, if any ſuch there were ; and leave a ſtrong Tie upon a Man's Honour; as , on the other Hand, the denying cur Aſſiſtance in Caſes of Extremity, is extremely unkind, and wipes out all Remembrances of any former Benefits. Such, once more, are Thoſe, that can be eaſily acknowledged, and admit of a ſuitable Return ; as, on the contrary, ſuch as the Receiver is out of all Ca- acity to requite, commonly breed Hatred, and a ſecret iſlike : For there is a Pride in moſt Men, that makes them uneaſie to be always behind-hand; and hence he who is ſenſible, that he can never make amends for all he hath receiv'd, every time that he ſees his Benefactor, fancies himſelf dogg'd by a Creditor, upbraided by a living Wit- neſs of his Inſufficiency or Ingratitude; and theſe ſecret Re- proaches of his own Mind, give great Uneaſineſs and Diſ- content; for no Bankrupt can bear being twitted with his Poverty. Some again there are, which the more free and honourable, and reſpectful they are, the more burdenſom and weighty they are ; provided the Receiver be a Per- - #45°e, and he that is under the power of Legal Forms, is ſon of Honour and Principle: Such, I mean, as bind the Conſciences and the Wills of Men ; for they tie a Man up faſter, keep him more tight, and render him more cau- tious and fearful of failing , or forgetfulneſs. A Man is Ten times more a Priſoner, when confin'd by his own Word, than if he were under Lock and Key. It is eaſier to be bound by Legal and publick Reſtraints, and Forms of En- £agements, than by the Laws of Honour and Conſcience; and Two Notaries in this Caſe are better than One. When a Man ſays, I deſire nothing but your Word, I de- Peºd upon your Hongſty ; ſuch a one indeed ſhews greater reſpect : But if he be ſure of his Man, he puts him upon a ſtriºter, Obligation, and himſelf upon better Security than Bonds and Judgments. A Man who engages nothing but his Word, is always in Fear and Conſtraint, and upon his Guard, left he hould forfeit or forget it. Your Mört- deliver'd from that Anxiety, and depends upon his Cre- ditor's inſtruments, which will not faii to refreſh his Me- tºofy, when the Bonds become due. Where there is any . . . . . . -- - - external . . . . . Ch. 1 1. Of Beneficence and Gratitude. 553 Roman Slave, who was expoſed in the Theatre to be de-Book I. voured by him. Chap. 8. Secondly. It is a Wirtuous Aët, and a certain Indication Sett. 12. of a good Mind ; for which Reaſon it is really more va- - luable, than Beneficence it ſelf: For Liberality often pro- ceeds from Plenty, or Power; Regard to one's own In- tereſt or Reputation, and not very often from pure Wir- tue ; But Gratitude cannot ſpring from any other Cauſe than an ingenuous Diſpoſition. And therefore, though the doing of good Offices may be the more deſirable; yet the grateful Acknowledgment, and ſtudying to requite them, when they are done, is the more Commendable of the Two. - - Thirdly, Gratitude is likewiſe an eaſie and a pleaſant Du- ty; and yet ſuch as no body can be excuſed from, upon the Pretence of Diſability, or Want of Opportunity; be- cauſe it is always in our own Diſpoſal, always preſent with us. Now, nothing is ſo eaſie, as to obey and follow the Dićtates of Nature; and nothing ſo Pleaſant and Sa- tisfactory, as for a Man to acquit himſelf of Obligations, to come out of Debt, and ſet himſelf Free, and upon the Level with his Neighbours. From all that hath been ſaid upon this Subječt, we 19. cannot but diſcern, how much of Baſeneſs, and Meanneſs of Spirit, the Vices of Ingratitude and Neglect carry with them; how deſervedly Odious they are to all the World. * To call a Man Ingrateful, is the worſt and blackeſt Accuſa- tion you can lay to his Charge. It is an Offence againſt Na- ture, and a certain Indication of an ill Temper; a ſcanda- lous and reproachful Vice ; ſuch as is not to be endured, becauſe it breaks all Society and good Correſpondence. The Revenge, which follows upon an Injury, and the In- gratitude which follows a Kindneſs, are both Bad and Blameable, but not equally ſo. Revenge is indeed the ſtronger and more violent Paſſion; but it hath leſs of De- formity and Degeneracy of Soul, than Ingratitude. The Evils and Diſeaſes of our Minds are like thoſe incident to our Bodies ; where thoſe that are moſt Dangerous and Mor- tal are not always the moſt Painful and Acute. And there- fore Revenge may diſorder a Man more, but Ingratitude corrupts his Wirtue more. In the Former there is ſome * Dixeris Maledićta cun&ta, cum ingratum hominem dixeris. Ingratitudo grave vitium, intolerabile quod diſſociat homines. AP- 554 Of Wiſdom. Book III 20. Appearance of Juſtice, Men are not aſhamed to purſue and own that publickly; but the latter is all over Infamy and Baſeneſs, and no Man was ever yet ſo abandoned or har- dy, to confeſs or glory in it. Now, Gratitude, to render it compleat, and in all Points what it ought to be, muſt have theſe following Qualifi- cations. - Firſt, A Man muſt receive the Kindneſſes done to him, cheerfully and friendly ; he muſt look, and expreſs himſelf well pleaſed with them. f. He that gives a Favour kind Entertainment, hath made the firſt Payment already. Second- ly. He muſt never forget, or be unmindful of it. ... He that forgets his Benefactor, is of all others the fartheft from Gratitude; for how is it poſſible a Man ſhould diſcharge this Duty, who hath ſuffered the Foundation of it to ſlip quite from under him 2 Thirdly. He muſt not be ſparing to own and publiſh it, * It is an argument of Ingenuity and becom- ing Modeſty, frankly to confeſs who we have been the better for ; and this is a Reward due to the Maker of our For- tunes. As we have found by comfortable Experience, the Hearts and Hands of our Friends open to our Advantage, ſo it is fit they ſhould find our Mouths open too, and our Tongues liberal in the Declarations of their Readineſs to aſſiſt us. And that our Memory upon this occaſion may never want Refreſhing, it will be Decent to mention the Advantage we have receiv'd, by the Title of his Gifts, who conferred it upon us. The Fourth and Laſt is, to make a Return, and Reſtitution, wherein we may govern our ſelves according to theſe Four Rules. Firſt, That This be not done too haſtily ; We ſhould not be extremely, Eager and Anxious in the Thing; for this hath a very ill Savour : It looks like Pride, as if we were loath, and ſcorned to be obliged ; and for that Rea- ſon were impatient to get out of their Debt. This mini- fters a very juſt cauſe of Jealoufie to our Benefactor, that his Kindneſs was not well taken, when we ſhew our ſelves t Qui grate Beneficium accepit, primam ejus Penſionem ſolvit. ... Ingratiſfimus omnium, qui oblitus ; nuſquam enim gratus fieri poteſt, cui totum Beneficium elapſum eſt. . . . * Ingenui pudoris eſt fateri per quos profecerimus, & hatc quaſi merces Authoris. - ſ O 556 Of Wiſdom. Book III. *** Thanks of the Heart, ought to be well accepted, where People are in no Condition to pay more; ſo the Defires and Offers of obliging us, either when our Friends could not compaſs their Defires, or when we had no need, or did not think fit to accept their Services, muſt be acknow- ledged, as if we had actually received them. For here was the Will, though not the Deed; and this, as I ſaid, is the Chief, and of it ſelf a ſufficient Ground of Obliga- tion to Gratitude. THE T H E Second P A R T J U S T I C E: CoNSISTING Of Tuties ouing to, and from certain Per- ſons, and ariſing from Special and Per- ſonal Obligations. The P R E FA C E. M?. Deſign is, in the next Place, to treat of ſuch Du- ties, as are peculiar to ſome Men, and not to others. And Theſe differ according as the Perſons concern'd in them, and their reſpective Conditions differ. Some of them are unequal, as Superiours, and Inferiours: Others are equal, and apon the ſame Level. I ſhall begin with married Perſons, becauſe This is a Relation mixt and compounded of both ; They being in ſome Reſpects Equal, and in Others Unequal. Beſides, it will be convenient to ſet out with ſuch Inſtances of 31ſtice, as are Private and Domeſtick, Theſe being in the very Nature and Order of Things antecedent to thoſe that are Publick and Political. For Families are the Foundation, and firſt Matter of Common-wealths, and Kingdoms. And there- fore the 31ſtice exerciſed here, is the Source, and Model, and firſt Draught of Publick, Adminiſtrations. Now, theſe Do- meſtick Relations, are Three; Husband and Wife, Prº, 47? 557 558 Of Wiſdom. Book III. I. Book. I. Chap. 42. Husband's Duty. and Children, Maſterr and Servants. Theſe are the Princi- pal Parts of a Family, but that of Husband and Wife is the Ground-work, and beginning of all the reſt. And there- fore That hath a right to be firſt conſidered. C H. A. P. XII. The Duties of a Married State. I N Regard the Perſons under this Condition may be con- fidered in different Reſpects, according to that Mixture of Equality and Inequality, which I have obſerved to be in their Circumſtances, it muſt needs follow, that the Du- ties peculiar to ſuch a State, are of Two Sorts; Some common to both, and Others appropriated to each of the Parties. Now, of thoſe that are reciprocal, the Obligation is entirely the ſame ; and the Conſciences of both are e- qually violated by the Breach of them; though, accord- ing to the Cuſtoms of the World, the Penalty, and Re- proach, and Inconvenience fall more Heavy on one ſide, than they do on the other. By theſe reciprocal Duties, I underſtand, an Entire Affection, ſteady Loyalty, uncor- rupted Fidelity, and unreſerved Communication of all things whatſoever ; ſo that Neither of them have any thing they can call their own, excluſive to the Right and Claim of the Other. To theſe we may add a prudent, and pro- vident Care, and the Exerciſe of a juſt Authority over their Family, a diligent Inſpection into their Manners, and conſulting the Advantage of all that belong to them. Of this Subječt we have ſpoken more at large in the firſt Firſt Part of this º - The Other ſort are Duties Peculiar to each of the Parties; and Theſe differ, according to the Terms of that une- qual Relation, in which they ſtand. For, thoſe of the Huſ- band, conſidered as Superiour, are. 1. Inſtructing his Wife, conferring with, and directing her in every Particular, that may any way contribute to their Honour and Advantage; taking Care, that ſhe may be Ignorant in no Part of the Duty expected from her Character, nor defective in any uſeful and neceſſary Accompliſhments, which ſhe is capable of attaining to ; and all this to be done not in a Rough and Magiſterial Way ; but with all poſſible Gentleneſs and Sweetneſs, Chap. 12. The Tuties of a Mirried State. 559 Sweetneſs, in the ſofteſt and moſt engaging manner, with the Tenderneſs of a Parent, and the reſpectful Affection of a Friend. 2. The maintaining her as his Wife; as befits One, whom he hath made the ſame with himſelf ; and therefore without any Regard to her former Circumſtances. Whether ſhe did, or did not bring a Fortune, That alters not the Caſe one whit; ſuch Confiderations are quite out of Doors, and nothing now lies before him, but the pre- ſent Relation between them. He is indeed to be govern- ed by his own Abilities, and will do well to ſecure the main Chance ; but then all the Frugality upon this Ac- count muſt extend to the retrenching his own Expences too : For whatever Figure he allows himſelf to make ; his Wife ought to be ſupported Suitably and in Proporti- on to it. 3. The providing her with Clothes, which is a Right ſo undoubted, that all Laws concur in giving a Wife this Privilege ; and that in ſo Solemn and Incom- municable a manner, that they have denied the Husband a Power, of diſpoſing any thing of this Kind away from her ; and have not left them liable to the Payment of his juſt Debts. 4. The Rights of the Bed. 5. The Loving, Cheriſhing, and Protecting her. Thoſe Two Extremes, which the World are apt to run into, are Vicious and Abominable. The keeping them under, and treating them like Servants; and the ſubmitting to them as if they were abſolute Miſtreſſes. Theſe I take to be the principal and conſtant Duties. Others there are, Accidental, and Occa- fional Duties, ſecondary to, and conſequent upon the for- mer: Such as, Taking Care of her, if ſhe be ſick; Ran- ſoming her, if ſhe be taken Captive ; Burying her Honour- ably, and according to her Quality, if ſhe happen to die; and Making Proviſion by his laſt Will, for her decent Support in her Widowhood, and the comfortable Subſi- ſtence of the Children ſhe hath brought him. The Duties of the Wife are to pay all becoming Ho- nour, and Reverence, and Reſpect to her Husband ; look- the Hebrew Tongue, ſignifies Lord and Hisband both. The Imagination, that a Woman lefſens her ſelf by this reſpectful and ſubmiſſive Behaviour, is moſt Frivolous and Fooliſh ; for ſhe that diſcharges this part of her Duty well, * - - COn- 3. - ºve’; ing upon him, as a kind and Affectionate Maſter. Ac- Duty. cordingly the Scripture takes Notice, that Women emi- nent for their Conjugal Virtues, uſed to call their Huſ- bands Lord ; and it is obſervable, that the ſame Word in 56o Of Wiſdom. Book III. conſults her own, more than her Husband's Honour ; and ſhe that is Inſolent and Imperious, Humourſome and Per- ... verſe, does the greateſt Injury to her felf. A Second Du- ty is Obedience to all his lawful and juſt Command's, complying with his Humours, and bringing over her own Inclinations to His : For a good and a prudent Wife, is like a true Glaſs, which makes an exact Reflection of the Face that looks in it. She ſhould have no Deſign, no Paſſion, no Thought particular to her ſelf; but to be ſure, none in º to His. Like Dimenſions and Acci- dents, which have no Motion, no ſeparate Exiſtence of their own, but conſtantly move with, and ſubſiſt in the Body whereunto they belong ; ſo Wives ſhould always keep cloſe, and be from the very Heart, and even Affecti- ons of their Souls, entirely, and inſeparably united to their Husbands. A Third is Service, That part eſpecially, which relates to the providing him ſeaſonable and Neceſſary Re- freſhments, over-looking the Kitchin, ordering the Table, and not diſdaining to do any Offices, or give him any kind of Aſſiſtance about his Perſon ; a Duty ſo fit to be con- deſcended to, that the Antients were wont to reckon Waſh- ing the Feet in particular, among the Inſtances of Service, due from the Wife to her Husband. Fourthly. Keeping much at Home, upon which Account a Wife is compard to a Tortoiſe, that carries her Houſe upon her Back; and uſed heretofore to be painted with her Feet Naked, an Emblem of her not being provided for ſtirring abroad. This is a modeſt and decent Reſerve, requiſite at all Times, but more eſpecially in the Abſence of her Husband. For a good Wife is the exact Reverſe of the Moon; ſhe ſhines abroad and in full Luſtre, when near her Sun; but diſappears, and is totally inviſible, when at a Diſtance from him. A Fifth is Silence ; for ſhe ſhould never give her ſelf the Liberty of talking much, except with her Huſ- band, or for him ; Here indeed her Tongue may take a Eccluſ. Looſe, and is ſubject to no other Reſtraint, than the ſpeak- ing no more, than is convenient. This, I confeſs, is a ve- ry difficult Point, hard of Digeſtion in this laviſh Age; where Multitude of Words ſets up for a Female Virtue; and ſo rare in all Ages, that the Wiſe Scn of Sirach calls | a ſilent Woman a Precious and Particular Gift of God. The Sixth is applying her ſelf to Houſ wifery and good Management ; for though, Solomon's Deſcription of a wiſe and good Woman may be thought too Mean and xxvi. 14. Prov.xxxi. Mechani- Ch. 11. The Tuties of a Married State. 561 Mechanical for this refined Generation, yet certain it is, that the Buſineſs of a Family is the moſt Profitable, nay, the moſt Honourable Study they can employ themſelves in. . This is the Reigning Accompliſhment, That, which ſo far as Fortune is concerned, ought to be principally eſteemed and regarded in the Choice of a wife, fo ſay the Truth, This is a Fortune fingly, and by it ſelf; the Ob- ſervation, or the Neglect of it, without the Addition of any Caſualties, is ſufficient to ruine, or to preſerve, nay, to make a Family. But This hath the Fate of all other Excellencies too, which is to be excecding rare and ſcarce. There are, I confeſs, a great many ſordid and ſcraping Wives, but very few good Managers. But alas ! there is a vaſt deal of Difference between Avarice and Parfimony, , and provident Care and good Houſvifery. As to the Enjoyments indulged in a Married State ; Men ſhould always remember, that this is a Chaft, a Pure, and a Religious Union; Conſecrated to Excellent Myſteries, and Holy Purpoſes ; and therefore, that all the Pleaſures of it ſhould be uſed with Moderation and Sobriety : In ſuch Meaſures only, as Prudence and Conſcience would direct, when conſulted ſeriouſly, and without any Byaſs from groſs and carnal Affections. And ſure it would ve- ry ill become a Society inſtituted for mutual Comfort, and the Advancement of Religion, and the preſervation of Pu- rity, to throw off all Reſtrain: ; and convert their Pri- vilege of Lawful Delights, into an Occaſion of abandon- ing themſelves to Senſuality and Licentiouſneſs. This is One of thoſe Caſes, where no certain Bounds can be pre- ſcribed ; but it will highly concern all Perſons engaged in this State, to confider th: Dignity and the Deſign of it, and to keep themſelves under ſuch Reſerves, as may nei- ther profane the one, nor evacuate the other. {} a CHA P. . . . of Wiſdom. Book III. C H A P. XIII. Good Management. - - T His is a very becoming and neceſſary Care. An Em- ployment, not hard to be attained to ; every Man of common Diſcretion is capable of it. But, though the Art be eaſily learned, the conſtant Exerciſe of it is Intricate and Laborious ; by Reaſon of that Great Variety of Bu- ſineſs, in which it engages us ; and, though many Matters about which it is managed, be ſmall and inconfiderable in themſelves ; yet the conſtant Succeſſion of them is ve- ry troubleſome. Domeſtick Cares give great Uneaſineſs, becauſe they allow of no Intermiſſion ; but, if the Diffi- culties are occaſion'd by the principal Perſons in the Family, they fret, and gall, and wrankle inward, and ſcarce admit of any Reſt or Remedy. The Beſt Method of rendring this Care eaſie and ef- fectual, is, To procure ſome faithful Servants, in whoſe Honeſty we can have entire Confidence, and Security. To buy in Proviſions in their proper Seaſons, and wait for the beſt Markets ; To prevent all unneceſſary Waſte, which is the Province, proper to the Miſtreſs of the Houſe. To make Neceſſity, and Cleanlineſs, and Order, our firſt Care; and when Theſe are ſerved, if our Circumſtances will ex- rend farther, then to provide for Plenty, and Shew, and Niceneſs ; a gentile Appearance, and every Thing faſhio- nable in it's Kind. To regulate our Expences, by cutting off our Superfluous Charge ; yet ſo, as to have a Regard to Decency and Convenience, and grudge Nothing, which either Neceſſity or Duty call for from us. One Shilling ſaved, with theſe Limitations, will do us more Credit, than Ten idly ſquandered away. But to the avoiding Profuſe- neſs, we ſhould alſo add the other commendable Quality, of good Contrivance ; for it is a Mark of great Addreſs, when we can make our Peny go a great Way, and appear Handſomely with little Charge : But above all things, a Man muſt be ſure to keep within Compaſs, and ſite his way of Living to his preſent Circumſtances: For the moſt pro- bable Proſpects, are ſtill but Futurities; and, as ſuch, they muſt needs be uncertain; ſo that there cannot be a more ridiculous 564 Of Wiſdom. Book W1. “Nice of his Shooe, and Negligent of his Foot. What “ſhould a Man do with Riches, who hath not the Senſe, “nor the Heart to make a good Uſe of them 2 This is “like an embroidered Saddle, and ſumptuous Furniture up- “on a Jaded Horſe. Parents indeed are doubly obliged to the Performance of this Duty. In Kindneſs to themſelves; as they are their own Offspring ; and in Regard to the Publick, becauſe theſe young Suckers are the Hopes of the Trce, the promiſing Shoots upon the thriving and kindly cul- tivating whereof, the Strength and Succeſſion of the Body Politick depends. So that this is, killing Two Birds with One Stone, ſerving one's own private Intereſt, and pro- moting the Welfare and Honour of one's Country, at the ſame time. - - Now, this Duty conſiſts of Four Parts; each of which ſucceed in order to the other; and theſe are proportion'd to the Four Advantages which Children ought to receive from their Parents in their proper Seaſons. Life, and Nouritiment, Inſtruction, and partaking of the Advantages of Life with them. The Fiji reſpects the Time of a Child's Exiſtence, till his Birth incluſively ; The Second his Infancy; The Tºird his Youth, and the Laſt his riper Age. , Concerning the Fºſt of Theſe I ſhall only ſay, that though it be very little attended to, yet is it of mighty Conſequence, and of ſtričt Obligation : For no Man, who hath any the leaſt Inſight into Nature, can be ignorant, how bereditary Conſtitutions and Complexions are: And therefore we may be good or ill Parents, even before our Children are born. And I am ſure, among other Induce- ments to the care of Health, and a regular Way of living, This ought not to be the leaſt, that Thoſe who derive their Being from us, do depend upon this Care for a great part of their Happineſs; For by what hath been largely diſcourſed in the firſt Book, it may plainly appear, that the Capaci- ty and Turn of Men's Minds, and the Soundneſs and Wi- gour of their Bodies, are in great Meaſure owing to a Parcuts good Conſtitution. And certainly, To Men of a- ny Conſcience, it ſhould be an Eternal Sting and Reproach, to reflect what Rottenneſs and Diſeaſes, they enrail upon and Pain, and ſuffer for Sins, which they never commit- their Poſterity, by abandoming themſelves to Lewdneſs and Debauchery ; how dearly thoſe Innocents pay for their Anceſtor's Exceſs, and what a Barbarity it is to ſend poor Wretches into the World, to languiſh out a Life of Miſery ted. Ch. 14. The Duty of Parents and Children. 565 i ted. So Neceſſºry, ſo Important a Virtue is Temperance to Succeſſions and Families, as well as to Mens own Per- ſons: So Miſchievous is Vice, and ſo Subtilly does it pro- pagate its diſmal Effects, even to thoſe that are yet É. The Second of theſe Heads I leave to Phyſicians and Nurſes; and having thus briefly diſpatch'd the Two Firſt, . becauſe ſomewhat foreign to our preſent Deſign, and neceſ- ſary to be mention'd, only for the rendring this Diviſion compleat, I ſhall proceed to the Third, which concerns the Inſtructing of them, and is a Subject more worthy our ſerious Confideration. So ſoon as the Child begins to move his Soul; and the Faculties of That, as well as the Organs of his Body ſhew that he is a Rational, and not only a Living Crea- ture; Great Application ſhould be uſed to form him well at firſt. And this Care may be allowed to take Place a- bout Four or Five Years Old, for by that time. The Me- mory and Imagination, and ſome little Strokes of Reaſon begin to dawn and diſplay themſelves. It is not to be imagined, of what conſequence theſe firſt Tinétures and Impreſſions are to the following part of Life ; and what wonderful Efficacy and Influence they have, even to the changing and conquering Nature it ſelf: For Education is frequently obſerved to be Stronger than Natural Diſpoſi- tion ; either for the bettering or corrupting of the Man. Lycurgus made People ſenſible of this, by taking Two Whelps of the ſame Litter, which he had brought up dif- ferent Ways, and in the Preſence of a great Company, ſetting before them Broth and a young Leveret; The Dog which had been brought up tenderly, and within Doors, fell to the Broth ; but the Other, which had been uſed to range and hunt, neglected his Meat, and purſued his Game. - Now that which renders ſuch Inſtructions ſo marvellouſly powerful, is, that they are taken in very eaſily, and as hardl joſt again: For that which comes firſt, takes abſolute §. ſeſſion ; and carries all the Authority you can deſire; there being no Antecedent Notions to diſpute the Title, or call the Truth of it in Queſtion. While therefore the Soul is freſh and clear, a fair and perfect Blank, flexible and ten- der, there can be no Difficulty in making it what you pleaſe ; for this Condition diſpoſes it to receive any manner of Impreſſion, and to be moulded into any manner of Form. Oo 3 Now, 566 of Wiſdom. Book III. 6. Now, the laying theſe firſt Foundations is no ſuch trivial Matter as is generally believed ; rather indeed the Diffi- culty of doing it well, is proportionable to the Importance of its being done ſo. Nay, not of private only, but pub- lick and general Importance; which makes me think the Complaint of Ariſtotle and Plutarch moſt juſt, though there is little or no Care taken to redreſs it, when they cryed out Loudly againſt the Education of Children being left en- tirely to the Mercy and Diſpoſal of Parents, as a moſt notorious, deplorable, and deſtructive Injury to the State. For why ſhould This reſt wholly upon Perſons, who are ſo often found to be Careleſs, or Ignorant, or Indiſcreet, and by no Means fit to govern themſelves? Why ſhould not the Publick concern themſelves in the Thing, and or- der ſome better Care to be taken of it, rather than ſuffer what thcy Daily do, by fitting ſtill and ſecing their own Ruin P Lacedæmon and Crete are almoſt the only Con- ſtitutions, where the diſciplining of Children hath been pre- ſcribed by National Laws. And Sparta was indeed the beſt School in the World ; which made Ageſilaus perſuade Xeno- phon, to ſend his Children thither, becauſe there they would be ſure to be inſtructed in the Beſt and Nobleſt Science ; that of Governing, and of Obeying well ; and becauſe this was the Work-houſe, where they made admirable Law- givers, Generals, Civil Magiſtrates, and Private Subječts. They ſeem'd indeed to be more intent upon the Inſtru- ction of Youth, and to lay greater Streſs upon it, than upon any other Thing whatſoever. Inſomuch that when ...int.piter demanded Fifty Children for Hoſtages, they Re- ply'd, That they did not care to part with any at that Age, and had much rather give him twice as many grown Men. . . . - - - - - Now, before I enter upon this Subject particularly, per- mit me by the way to give one Advertiſement; which ſeems to carry ſomewhat of Weight in it. Many Peo- ple take a great deal of Pains to find out the Inclinati- ons of their Children, and what ſort of Buſineſs they are fit for. But alas ! This at thoſe Years is ſomewhat ſo ve- ry tender, ſo much in the Dark, and ſo very uncertain ; that Parents after having (as they imagine) pitch'd right, and been at a World of Pains and Charge, find them- ſelves miſerably Miſtaken. And therefore without troubling our ſelves about theſe dim Prognoſticks, and depending upon the very weak and ſlender Conjectures, capable of º . . . * , , , , t , ~ * * * - - being º Ch. 14 The Tuties of Parents and Children, 567 : being drawn from the Motions of Minds ſo very Young ; the beſt courſe will be, to poſſeſs them with ſuch Inſtiu- “tions, as may be univerſally Good, and of general Uſe at firſt ; and when they are ſeaſoned well with theſe, That will prove a moſt excellent Preparation, for their taking to any particular Employment afterwards. Thus you build upon a ſure Bottom, and perfect them preſently, in that which muſt be the conſtant, and daily Buſineſs of their Lives ; and this firſt Tinéture, like the Ground of a 2 Picture, fits them for the receiving any other Colours. To proceed now on, to the Matter it ſelf; which may 8. very conveniently be reduced to three Heads ; The Forming of the Mind, Managing the Body, and Regulating of the Manners. But I muſt once more beg my Reader's Par- don, for another Digreſſion, (if it deſerve to be thought ſo) ſince, before I proceed to confider theſe Particulars, it ſeems to me highly Expedient, to lay down ſome General Rules relating to this Matter, which may direct us how to pro- ceed, with Diſcretion and Succeſs. The firſt of theſe Directions is, To keep this little White 9. Soul from the Contagion and Corruption ſo univerſal among Men, that it may contract no Blemiſh, no Taint at its firſt coming abroad into the World. In order hereunto ſtrict Centry muſt be kept at the Doors; I mean the Eyes, and eſpecially the Ears, muſt be diligently guarded, that no un- clean Thing get Admittance there. Now, This is done by taking Care of thoſe that are about the Child, and not ſuffering any, even of his Relations to come near him ; whoſe Converſation is ſo laviſh and diſſolute, that we have Reaſon to fear they may convey any ill Idea's into him, though never ſo little, never ſo ſecretly : For One ſingle Word, One diſtant Hint, is ſufficient to do more Miſchief in a Child, than a great deal of Pains will be able to root out, or retrieve again. Upon this Account it was, that Plato would never endure, that Children ſhould be left to Servants, or entertained with their Stories : For if they talk nothing worſe, yet the beſt we can expect from them is idle Tales and ridiculous Fictions, which take ſuch deep Root in this tender Soil, that I verily believe a very great Part of the Vulgar Errours and Idle Prejudices, moſt Men are poſſeſt with, is owing to the Giants, and Hobgoblins, and the reſt of that ridiculous Stuff, which they were kept in awe, or diverted with, in their very Infancy. O o 4 The 568 Of Wiſdom. Book III. Io. The Second Direction concerns the Perſons to be en- truſted with this Child ; what they are, what Diſcourſe they have with him, what Books they put into his Hands. As to the Perſons themſelves; They ſhould be Men of Honeſty and Virtue, of a good Temper, and winning Behaviour; Men whoſe Heads lie well; and eminent, rather for Wiſdom, than Learning. They muſt alſo keep a good Correſpon- dence together, and perfectly underſtand each other's Me- thod ; for fear, while they take contrary Ways, (as if one would gain upon his Charge by Fear, and another by Flat- tery) § ſhould happen to croſs and hinder one an- other; confound the Child, perplex the Deſign, and be perpetually doing and undoing. The Books and the Diſ- courſe intended for his Entertainment, ſhould by no Means be ſuch as treat of mean and trifling, frivolous and idle Subjects ; but Great, and Serious, and Noble ; ſuch as may help to enrich his Underſtanding, to direct his Opinions, to regulate his Manners and Affections. Such particularly, as ſet before him Human Nature, as it really is ; deſcry the ſecret Springs, and inward Movements of the Souſ; that ſo he may not miſtake the World, but be well ac- quainted with him ſelf and other People : Such as may teach him, which are the proper Objects of his Fear, and Love, and Deſire ; how he ought to be affected with Re- gard to all external Things : What Paſſion, what Virtue is : And how he ſhall diſcern the Difference between Am- bition and Avarice, between Servitude and Subjection, be- tween Liberty and Licentiouſneſs. And ſuffer not your ſelf to be diverted from ſuch early Attempts, by a ridicu- Hous Pretence of the Child's Incapacity for Matters of ſo important a Nature ; for, aſſure your ſelf, he will ſwal- low and digeſt theſe, as eaſily as thoſe of another and more ludicrous Kind. There is not one jot more of Capa- city or Apprehenſion required, to the Underſtanding all the illuſtrious Examples of Valerius Maximus, than there is to the knowing the Feats of Guy of Warwick, or Amadis of Gaul. The Greek and Roman Hiſtory, which is the No- bleſt and moſt Uſeful Learning in the World, is every Whit as entertaining, as eaſie to be comprehended, as any Romance of the ſame Bulk. A Child, that can tell how many Cocks and Hens run about his Mother's Yard, and can count and diſtinguiſh his Uncles and Couſins ; what thould hinder him from remembring with the ſame eaſe, the ſeven Kings of Rºme, and the #. Ceſars 2 There 1s Ch. 14. The Duty of Parents and Children. 569 - is indeed a great Difference, between ſeveral Sciences; * And the Faculties of Children have their proper Seaſons ; but then this makes no Difference between the different Parts of the ſame Science, and Exerciſes of the ſame Faculty; and no Man will ever be able to prove, that one Matter of Fact is eaſie, and another difficult or impoſſible to be at- tained; but eſpecially, that the Falſe and Fićtitious Inven- tions, are accommodated to the Capacity of Children, and that True and Serious Narratives are above, and unfit for them. This looks, as if God had made our Minds only capable of being deceived ; and given them a ſtrange Ala- crity in Lyes and Fables. But the Matter is much other- wiſe. For the main Buſineſs is, to manage the Capaci of a Child well, and if this be done, the Improvement iſ quickly ſhew the Vanity of trifling with Children, and di- - ſtruſting their Abilities for greater and better.Things. II. The Third Admonition to this purpoſe is, that theſe Tu- tors and Governors would behave themſelves as becomes them towards their Charge ; Not putting on always ſolemn and auſtere Looks, or treating them with Harſhneſs and Severity ; but with Methods that are gentle and engag- ing, tº Humour, and a cheerful Countenance. I cannot here but condemn without more ado, that general Cu- ſtom of beating, whipping, ſcolding and ſtorming at Chil- dren; and keeping them in all that Terror, and Subjection, which is uſual in ſome great Schools. For This is really a moſt unreaſonable Thing ; of pernicious Conſequence, and as indecent as it would be in a Judge to fall into violent Paſſions with Criminals at the Bar; or a Phyſician to fall foul upon his Patients, and call them all to naught. How Prejudicial muſt this needs be in the Effect, how contrary to the Deſign of Education, which is, to make - them in love with Virtue betimes, to ſweeten their Tem- pers, and train them in Virtue and Knowledge, and De- cency of Behaviour ! Now, this Imperious, and rough Treatment gives them a Prejudice to Inſtruction ; makes them hate, and be afraid of it ; fills them with Horrour, and Indignation, and Rage ; tempts them to be Deſperate | and Head-ſtrong ; damps their Spirits, and depreſſes their Courage : Till at laſt by being uſed like Slaves, they de- generate entirely into cowardly and ſlaviſh Diſpoſitions. The Holy Ghoſt himſelf hath given us fair Warning of this Mitchievous Conſequence ; when he commands by St. Paul, that Parents ſhould not provoke their Children to Coloſſ iſi. - Wrath, 2 I. | Ch. 14. The Tuties of Parents and Children. 57.1 *’Twas always my opinion, that 'tis much better To keep Children in Order by Shame, and Generoſity Of Inclination, than by Fear----- This is a Father's part to uſe his Child, So as his own Choice rather than Conſtraint should put him upon doing well. Here lies the Difference between a Father and a Maſter; And he that ači; otherwiſe, let him confeſs, That he underſtands not at all the Art Of managing Children.— Blows are for Beaſts, which are incapable of hearing Reaſon; and Rage and Brawling, and contemptuous Uſage, for none but Slaves. He that is once accuſtomed to theſe, will come to very little. But Reaſon and Argument, the Gracefulneſs of the Action, the Imitation of excellent Men, the Honour and Reſpect, and univerſal Approbation that attend their doing well, the pleaſing and generous Satisfa- ctions of one's own Mind, which reſult from a Senſe of . having done ſo, and the Deference paid by others to ſuch Perſons and Aétions; The Deformity of an ill thing, the Repreſentations of its being unworthy and unbecoming, a - Reproach and Affront to Human Nature ; the Shame and Scandal, the inward Upbraiding and Diſcontents, and the General Diſlike and Averfion it draws upon us; how de- ſpicable and little it makes us appear, both in our own Eyes, and the Eſteem of the World ; Theſe are the Defen- five Arms againſt Vice ; theſe the Spurs to Virtue, that in- fluence and quicken up all Children of good Tempers, and ſuch as give us any tolerable Hopes of making ſignifi- cant Men. Theſe we ſhall do well to be perpetually ring- ing in their Ears; and if ſuch Arts as theſe prove ineffe- &tual, all the Methods of Rigour will do but little Good upon them. What cannot be compaſſed by dint of Rea- ſon, and Prudence, and Addreſs, will either never be com- paſſed by dint of Blow ; or if it be, it will turn to very * Pudore & Liberalitate Liberos retinere Satius eſſe credo quâm metu. Hoc Patrium eſt, potius conſuefacere filium, Suá Sponte reště facere, quam alieno metu. Hoc Pater ac Dominus intereſt, hoc qui nequit, Fateatur ſe neſcire imperare Liberis. poor 572 Of Wiſdom. Book III. poor Account. But indeed there is no fear of Diſappoint- ment, if ſuch Methods are taken in time, and the Cor- ruptions of Vice be not ſuffered to get beforehand with us : For theſe Notions are commenſurate, and Proper to the Soul, and the moſt natural that can poſſibly be, while it is preſerved in its Primitive Innocence and Purity. I would not be miſtaken in all this ; As if it were any part of my Intention to countenance or commend that looſe and effeminate Indulgence, which admits of no Contradi- &ion, no Correótion at all ; but makes it a Principle, to let Children have their Humour in every Thing, for fear of fretting and putting them out of Temper. This is an Extreme every whit as extravagant, and as deſtructive, as the other. Such Parents are like the Ivy, that certainly kills the Tree encircled by it ; or the Ape that hugs her Whelps to Death with mere Fondneſs. 'Tis as if when we ſee a Man drowning, we ſhould ſtand by, and let him fink, for fear the pulling him out by the Hair of the Head ſhould hurt him. Againſt this Fooliſh Tenderneſs it ... is, that the wiſe Preacher inveighs ſo largely, and ſo ſmart- Prov. xiii. ly. He that ſpareth, the Rod, hateth his Son; but he that 24. loveth him chaſteneth him betimes. Chaſten thy Son while xix. 18. there is hope, and let not thy Soul ſpare for his crying. **3, With-hold not correàion from the Child; for if thou beatſ #:uſ. him with the Rod, he ſhall not die. Thou ſhalt beat him xxx. 8, 9 with the Rod, and ſhalt deliver his Soul from Hell. An ... “” Horſe not broken becometh Headſtrong; and a child left tº himſelf will be wilfull ; Cocker thy Child, and he ſhall mak thee afraid. Bow down his Neck while he is young, left he wax ſtubborn, and bring Sorrow to thine Heart. And all this Advice is very confiſtent with what I recommended before; for Youth muſt not be ſuffered to run wild, and grow Lawleſs. They ought to be contained in Diſcipline and good Order ; but then this Diſcipline ſhould be ſo tempered and managed, as becomes a Spiritual, Human, and reaſonable Diſcipline; and not fly out into Rage, and Fury, as if we were dealing with Brutes who have no Senſe; or with Madmen, who have loſt their Senſes, and muſt be bang'd into them again. I 3. And now it may be ſeaſonable for us to proceed in the Advice for Confideration of thoſe Particulars mention'd lately, and th: forming, Rules for Inſtruction and Education ſuited to each of them. the Mind. The Firſt of theſe Particulars was ſaid to confiſt, in ex- erciſing, ſharpening and forming the Minds of young Peº- plc. Ch. 14. The Duty of Parents and Children. 573 ple. And here we might take Occaſion to lay down a great Variety of Directions ; But the Firſt, and Chief, and indeed the Fundamental Rule of all the reſt, (that which regards the Aim and End of all this painful Toil; and which I am the more concerned to preſs and incul- care, becauſe it is very little obſerved, but by an Epidemi- cal and fatal Miſtake, Men are generally fond of the quite contrary Courſe) this Rule, I ſay, which I would urge, and preſume to be infinitely the moſt concerning and ma- terial of any, is, That Men would employ the greateſt Part by much, and make it in a manner the Whole, of their Buſineſs and Study, to exerciſe, and improve, and ex- ert, That which is our Natural and Particular Excellence ; to brighten, and bring to light the Treaſure hid in every Man's breaſt, rather than to heap up, and make Oſtenta- tion of that which is a foreign Growth. To aim at Wiſ- dom rather than Learning, and the quaint Subtilties of Spe- culative Knowledge ; to ſtrengthen the Judgment, and con- ſequently give the true Bent and Turn to the Will and the Conſcience, rather than fill the Memory, and warm the Fancy; in a Word, That they would labour to make the Perſons committed to their Charge, Prudent, Honeſt, and good Men, and think this better Service, and infinite- ly higher Accompliſhments, than the making them Nice, Florid, Learned, or all that which the World calls fine Scholars, and fine Gentlemen. Of the Three predominant Parts of the Reaſonable Soul, Judgment is the Chief, and - moſt Valuable ; as was ſhewn at large in the Beginning of Book I. this Treatiſe, to which I refer my Reader. But almoſt all Chap. 19. the World are of another Opinion, and run greedily after Art and acquired Learning. Parents are at an infinite Ex- nce; and Children themſelves at infinite Pains and trou- É. to purchaſe a Stock of Knowledge ; and yet Taci- tus his Complaint may be ours at this Day ; That the Ex- ceſs of Learning is our Diſeaſe ; and as it is in all other Exceſſes, the World is not the better, but the worſe for it: 'For in the midſt of all this Fruitleſs Care and Charge, they are in little or no Concern, for that which would come at a much eaſier Rare ; the breeding them ſo, that they may be Prudent and Honeſt, and fit for Buſineſs. Now, though this Fault may be ſo general, yet All are not Guilty of it upon the ſame Principle. , Some are blindly led away by Cuſtom ; and imagine, that Wiſdom - and learning are either the ſame thing, or very *::::: S.1ſ, 574 Of Wiſdom. Book III. Kin to one another; but to be ſure, that they conſtantly go together, and that one of them cannot poſſibly be attained without the other. Theſe Men are under an in- nocent Miſtake, and deſerve to have ſome Pains taken with them, for their better Information. Others are wil- fully in the Wrong ; and know well enough the Difference between theſe Two: But ſtill they will have artificial and acquired Knowledge, whatever it coſt them. And indeed as the Caſe ſtands now with our Weſtern Parts of Europe; this is the only way to make a Noiſe in the World. Reputation and Riches are not to be got without it. So that the Perſons we now ſpeak of, make’a Trade of Learn- ing, and ſink it into a Mercenary, Pedantick, Sordid, Me- chanical Thing. A Commodity bought dear, to be ſold again dearer at ſecond Hand. Theſe Huckſters are paſt all Cure, and it is not worth, while to give our ſelves any Trouble about them. Not but that our Men of Mode are, ſome of them as Extravagantly Fooliſh in the other Extreme, who eſteem Learning an ungentile Thing, and ſomewhat too Pedantick and Mean for Quality, and e- ſteem a Man the leſs for being a Scholar. This is but an- other Proof of their Folly and Emptineſs, and Want of all Senſe of Virtue and Honour, which their Ignorance, Im- pertinence, ſauntring Lives, and vain Fopperies, give us ſuch abundant Demonſtrations of every Day. But now for the Inſtruction of thoſe Others, that give us ſome Hopes of Recovery, and for the diſcovering where their Miſtake lies, we muſt ſhew Two Things Firſt, That there is a Real Difference between Learning and Wiſdom; and that the Latter is infinitely to be pre- I 4. Learning and Wiſ- dom com- par'd. I 5. ferred, before any the moſt exquiſite and exalted Degree of the Former. Secondly, That they do not always go to- gether, nay, that moſt commonly they obſtruct each other; inſomuch that your Men of nice Learning are not often eminent for Wiſdom ; nor your Truly wiſe Men deep Learned. There are, I confeſs, ſome Exceptions to this laſt Obſervation, but it were heartily to be wiſhed there were more of them. They that are ſo, are Men of Great, and Noble Souls ; of which Antiquity furniſhes ſome In- ſtances, but the more Modern Times are very barren of them. * *. In order to the doing this Argument Right, we muſt firſt know what Learning and Wiſdom are. Now, Learſ- ing is a vaſt Collection of other Peoples Exalºg a - t Ch. 14. The Tuties of Parents and Children. 575 Stock laid in with Labour and long Trouble, of all that we have ſeen, and heard, and read in Books; the Sayings. and Aétions of Great and Good Men, who have lived in all Ages and Nations. . The Repoſitory or Magazine, where this Proviſion is treaſured up, is the Memory. He who is provided by Nature with a good Memory, hath no body to blame but himſelf, if he be not a Scholar; for he hath the Means in his own Hands. Wiſdom is a calm and re- gular Government of the Soul: That Man is Wiſe, who obſerves true Meaſures, and a due Decorum in his Thoughts, and Opinions, and Deſires; his Words, and Aétions, and Deportment. In ſhort ; Wiſdom is the Rule and Standard of the Soul, and he that uſes this Rule aright, that is, The Man of Judgment and Diſcretion, that ſees, and diſcerns, judges and eſteems Things according to their Nature and Intrinſick Value; who places each in its juſt Order and Degree, is the Perſon we would have every one attempt to be. And how Reaſonable that Advice is, will quickly ap- pear, by obſerving how far the greater Excellence of the Two, this of Wiſdom is. - Learning, however Valuable in it ſelf, is yet but a poor and barren Accompliſhment, in Compariſon of Wiſ- dom: For it is not only unneceſſary; being what Two Parts in Three of Mankind make a very good Shift with- out ; but the Uſefulneſs of is but ſmall ; and there are but a very few Inſtances (comparatively ) to which that Uſefulneſs extends. It contributes nothing at all to Life; for how many do we ſee of all Qualities and Conditions, High and Low, Rich and Poor, that paſs their Time in great Eaſe and Pleaſure, without knowing any thing at all of the Matter P There are a great many other Things, more Serviceable both to Men's private Happineſs, and to Human Society in General. Honour, and Reputation, No- ble Birth, and Quality, and yet even Theſe are far from being abſolutely neceſſary ; The moſt they can pretend to, is the being Ornaments, and Conveniences, and additio- nal Advantages. It contributes Nothing to any Natural Operations ; the moſt ignorant Man, in this Reſpect, is upon the Level with the greateſt Clerk. For Nature is of her ſelf a ſufficient Miſtreſs, and deals to every one the Knowledge needful for ſupporting her own Occaſions. Nor does it in any Degree aſliſt a Man's Probity ; no body is one whit the Honeſter, or Juſter for it; rather indeed it hinders and corrupts the Integrity of the Mind, by teach- 1ng 15, 576 of Wiſdom. Book III. IV. ing Men to be Subtle, and to diſtinguiſh all Plain-dealing quite away. Look into the Characters of Excellent Perſons in Hiſtory; and you ſhall find moſt amongſt them of mo- defate and very indifferent Attainments. Witneſs Old Rome, which, in the Days of her Ignorance, was renowned for Juſtice and Honour ; but when Learning and Eloquence got the Aſcendent, the Fame of her Virtue was in its De- clenſion ; and in Proportion as Mens Wits grew more Subtle and Refin'd, Innocence and Simplicity fell into De- cay and Contempt. Sečts and Hereſies, Errours and Atheiſm it ſelf have ever been ſet on foot and propaga- ted, by Perſons of Artifice and Learning. The primitive Source of our Miſery and Ruine, and that firſt Tempta- tion of the Devil, which inveigled and undid Mankind, was an unſeaſonable and intemperate Deſire of Knowledge. Tº ſhall be as Gods diſcerning between Good and Evil, was that fatal Expectation, which depreſt our firſt Parents, and made them leſs than Man. The more Men employed their Wits in Study, the more plauſible, and conſequently the more dangerous Notions they ſtarted ; which made St. Paul bid his Coloſſians beware, that they were not ſeduced by Philoſophy, and vain Deceit. And one of the Learnedeſt Men, that ever liv'd, ſpeaks but very meanly of it, as a Thing Wain and Unprofitable, Hurtful and Troubleſom, ſuch as was never to be enjoyed without many grievous Incumbrances ; ſince he that increaſeth Knowledge muſt una- voidably increaſe Sorrow at the ſame Time. In a Word; Learning, it is confeſt, may Civilize and refine us, but it cannot moralize us ; we may be more courteous, and converſable , and accompliſhed ; but we cannot be one jot the Holier, the Juſter, more Temperate, or more Cha- ritable for it. Nay, Fourthly, it does us no Service, nei- ther in the ſweetning of our Lives, or abating our Re- ſentments, for any of the Afflićtions that embitter them. It rather ſets a Sharper Edge upon our Calamities, and raiſes our Senſe of them to be more quick and tender. Accordingly we ſee, that Children, and plain ignorant Peo- ple, (who meaſure their Misfortunes, only by what they feel at preſent, and neither anticipate, and give them an Imaginary Being ; nor revive and, as it were, raiſe them from the Dead again by melancholy Reflections,) get over their Sufferings much more eaſily, and ſupport themſelves under them with much greater Temper and Moderation, than your quaint, and refined, and more thinking Men. Ignorance Ch. 14. The Tuty of * and Childrue. Ignorance is in ſome Degree a good Remedy; a ſtrong Amulet againſt Misfortunes; and our Friends (it is very manifeſt) are of that Opinion, when they beg of us to forget, and not to think of them, For what is this but to drive us hither for Shelter P I confeſs ſuch Advice is Ri- diculous, and a mere Jeſt ; for Remembring and Forget- ting, are not Things in our own diſpoſal ; and all we can contribute toward this, is not to forment our ſelves In- duſtriouſly; not to awaken the ſleeping Lyon ; and when ſuch Reflections offer themſelves, to ſoften, and counter-Work them , by Arguments for Patience and Contentedneſs ; But here our Adviſers play the Surgeon's Part ; who when they cannot heal the Wound, aſſwage the Pain and Skin over the Sore, as well as they can. Thoſe that have adviſed People to diſpatch themſelves, when their Sufferings are come to Extremity, and all Hope, all Poſſibility of. Amendment gone, are directly of the ſame Mind : For what is Death but a State of Stupidity and Inſenſibility P and thoſe who ſeek a Refuge here, acknowledge Ignorance to be their laſt, and moſt effectual Remedy. But now, Wiſdom'is an Accompliſhment, of abſolute Ne- ceſſity, and univerſal Uſe ; All Things fall within the Verge of its Juriſdićtion, and nothing can be exempted, or conceal’d from its Cognizance. It rules and ſits Supreme in War and in Peace ; in Publick and in Private ; nay, it preſides over our Frolicks and Feaſts ; our Jollitics and Recreations; for All theſe ought to be managed with Prudence, and Diſcretion, and Sobriety. And, where Wiſdom does not interpoſe, all things run into Diſorder and Confuſion. Secondly. Learning is Servile, and Mean, and Mechani- cal, when put into the Balance with Wiſdom ; It is a bor- rowed Excellence, and borrowed with great Importunity too. A learned Man is like the Jay in the Fable, tricked up and made fine with the Feathers of other Birds. He ſets him- ſelf off and entertains the World with his Reading ; but this is like making a Feaſt at another Man's Coft. . Whereas the Wiſe Man lives upon his Rents, and hath an inexhauſtible Fund of his own : For Wiſdom is a Man's proper Poſſeſſion, an In- heritance ſetled upon him by Nature ; but cultivated, and made Fertile, by Art, and Induſtry, and Exerciſe. - Thirdly. The Qualities and Conditions of theſe Two are vaſtly Differen: ; more Graceful, more Generous in the One, than the Other. Learning is uſually Proud and Peeviſh, Captious and Cavilling, Arrogant and Preſumptuous, - w P p Peremp- 577 17. 18. 578 of Wiſm. BookIII 19. Peremp-ory and Bold, Quarrelſome and addićted to Diſ. utes, Ill-mannerd and Indiſcreet. Wiſdom is Modeſt and i. Gentle and Peaceable, free from a Spirit of Con- tradićtion, and full of Reſpect. Again. Learning is com- monly Forward and Affected, Unſeaſonable and Pretending, always thruſting it ſelf in at every Thing, and yet able to do Nothing : For it confiſts not in Aćtion, but in Talk. But Wiſdom is full of Efficacy and Activity; it Manages and Governs every Thing ; and is never Troubleſom, or Wain ; never Nauſcous or out of Time. Thus it Appears, that there is a mighty Difference be- tween true Wiſdom, and acquired Knowledge; and how much the One is Better and more Valuable than the Other. As much indeed, as a Thing that is indiſpenſably Neceſſary, and of general Uſe, Aétive and Vigorous, and Subſtantial ; Noble, and Virtuous, and Becoming ; excels another, which is Serviceable but in ſome Caſes, and ab- ſolutely Neceſſary in none ; Impotent and Unactive, Me: chanick and Mean, Preſumptuous and Poſitive, Stiff and Humorſome ; Captious and Cavilling. Let us Now proceed to the Other part of this Argu- ment, which undertakes to prove, that theſe Two do not always go together ; nay, that they are generally found ſingle and aſunder. The Account of this, ſo far as Na- ture is concern'd in it, ſeems to be, what hath been for- merly explain’d at large ; that the Temperaments of the Brain, which capacitate and diſpoſe Men to theſe ſeveral Accompliſhments, are diſtant and incompatible : For That where Memory excels, which qualifies Men for acquired Learning, is Moiſt ; and the other, where, Wiſdom is Predominant and judgment excels, is Dry. This is alſo hinted to us, by what the Scriptures mention to have befallen our firſt Parents ; for in the Inſtant that they fixed their Deſires upon Speculative Knowledge, Wiſdom forſook them quite ; and the Advantages of this Kind, which were included in the Original Perfeótion of Human Na- ture, were withdrawn. And conſtant Experience ſhews us, that the Fate of their Succeſſors is ſtill in Proportion the fame. The Greateſt and moſt Flouriſhing Empires and Common-wealths, both Ancient and Modern have been, and Yet are govern'd by Wiſdom deſtitute of Scholarſhip; both in Civil and Military Affairs. Rome was as Ignorint as any other Part of the World, for the Firſt Five Hun- dred Years; and then was it's Acme both for Virtue and Wi- º: ºº lour : º Ch. 14. The Tuty of Parents and Children. 579 lour: when Learning came in, Corruption and Vice, Fa- Čtions and Civil Wars entred with it. The moſt glorious Conſtitution the World ever ſaw, was that of the Lacade- monians founded by Lycurgus. The Gallanteſt Men in Story were bred under it, and yet they do not ſeem to have made any Pretenſion to Learning, or to expreſs any great Eſteem for it at that time. This was the Famous School for Vir- tue and Wiſdom ; and conquered Athens, the moſt re- fined City in the World, the Scene of Sciences, the Seat of the Muſes, and Store-houſe of Philoſophy. Theſe Ex- amples are Notorious in Ancient Story. If we deſcend down to our own Times: All thoſe large, wealthy and flöu- riſhing Kingdoms in the Eaſt and Wºſt Indies, lived very well, and wanted neither Grandeur nor Plenty; they ne- ver had Learning, nor did they ever feel the Want of it; nay; they were Ignorant even of reading and writing; and the Knowledge as they have now, hath been purcha- ſed at the expence of their Liberty : Beſides that, they have learnt to cheat, and to be Vicious into the Bargain, and ſeveral wicked Arts, never ſo much as mention'd amongſt them before. But indeed where do we find an Empire, for Glory and Succeſs, comparable to that of the Grand Signior 2 He, like the Lyon of the World, renders himſelf Formidable to all his Neighbours; and is a Check and . Terror to the Princes and Monarchs of the Earth. And yet in this whole Dominion, Nothing Reigns ſo Univer- ſally, as profound Ignorance of Letters ; No Profeſſors of Sciences, no Schools, no Allowance to read for the Pub- lick Inſtruction of others; no, not even in Religion it ſelf. What then hath contained this State in ſuch excellent Order P what hath procur'd all its Succeſſes? what indeed but Prudence, and Diſcipline, and Conduct P. Turn your Eyes now, and ob- ſerve thoſe other Kingdoms where Learning hath been in Au- thority and Reputation. That of France, for Example, which ſeems to ſucceed Athens in all its Glory. The Principal Mini- ſters of this Crown, the Conſtables,and Mareſchals,and Admi- rals, and Secretaries of State, through whoſe Hands all Buſineſs of Moment paſſes, are for the moſt Part Perſons of little or no acquired Learning. And we know, that ſeveral eminent Law- givers, and Princes, and Founders of Common-wealths, have utterly baniſh'd all Studies of this Nature as the Poyſon and Plague of a Nation; So did Licinius, and Valentinian, and Mahomet, and an ancienter and better Man than all theſe, Lycur- gui. This is a ſufficient Proof, that there may be Wiſdom, P p 2. where Of Wiſdom. Book III. where there is no acquired Learning. Let us next enquire, whether we can find Learning deſtitute of Wiſdom; and the Inſtances of this Part, are no leſs obvious, and nume- rous, than the other. Do but take notice of great part of the Men, who make Learning their Study and Profeſſion, whoſe Heads are full of Ariſtotle, and Cicero, the Philoſo- phers, and the School-Men. Are there any People in the World, more aukward and uncouth in Bufineſs PIs it not a common Proverb, when we ſee a Man Odd and Clumſie, to ſay He is a mere Scholar P One would almoſt think, that they had pored away their Senſes; and that exceſs of Knowledge had ſtunn'd and ſtupify'd them. How ma- ny are there, who would have made excellent Perſons, had they not ſunk and dwindled into Pedantry; and had been wiſer Men, if they had traded upon their own Na- tural Stock, and never ſat down to Books at all 2 and how many of their own Brethren do we ſee, who never had that Education, and prove much ſhrewder Men, and better Contrivers, more quick and expert in all manner of Buſineſs P Take one of your Nice Diſputants, or quaint Rhetoricians, bring him into a debate at the next Corpo- ration, where any Matter of Government, or Civil Intereſt is under Deliberation ; put him upon ſpeaking to the Point, and he ſhall Bluſh and Tremble, turn Pale, and Cough, and Hem: But it is Odds, if he ſay any Thing to the Purpoſe. At laſt perhaps, you ſhall have a formal Ha- rangue ; ſome Definitions of Ariſtotle, or Quotations out of Tully, with an Ergo at the End of them. And yet at the ſame Meeting you ſhall have a dull, plodding Alderman, that chalks up all his Acounts behind the Door; and can neither write nor read, and yet this Fellow, by ſeeing and knowing the World, ſhall out of his own Obſervation and Experience, come to better Reſolutions, and propoſe more feaſible and proper Expedients, than the ſubtileſt and moſt refin'd Student of them all. Were Matters indeed ſo ma- naged, that Men turned their Speculation into Practice, and took Care to apply their Reading to the Purpoſes of Human Life : the Advantage of Learning would be un- ſpeakable ; and we ſee how illuſtriouſly ſuch Perſons ſhine in the World. And therefore what I have ſaid upon this Occaſion, is not to be ſtretched to the Prejudice of Learn- ing in general ; but only to ſuch a falſe Opinion of it, as depends upon This alone for the moſt eligible, and Only Qualification of the Mind of Man; and ſo reſts upon it, and buries it in Inactivity. This the foregoing Inſtances ſhew * of Wiſdom. Book III. 21. and undeniable Matter of Faët, give us Ten thouſand In- {tances of it's being otherwiſe. - - Now, the true Reaſon, and ſatisfactory Anſwer to this Doubt, ſtands really thus. That the Methods of Inſtructi- on are not well ordered. Books and Places of Publick Education furniſh Men with admirable Matter; but they do not imbibe, and uſe it, as they ſhould do. Hence it is, that vaſt Improvements in Knowledge turn to ſo very {lender Account : They are Poor in the midſt of Plenty; and, like Tantalus in the Fable, ſtarved with the Meat at their Mouths. When they apply themſelves to Reading, the Thing they principally aim at, is to learn Words more than Things; or at leaſt, they content themſelves with a yery ſlight and ſuperficial Knowledge of Things; and He is reputed the beſt Scholar, who hath made the largeſt Collections, and cramm'd his Memory fulleſt. Thus they are Learned, but not with any Care of poliſhing , their Minds, and forming their Judgments, or growing practically Wiſe. Like a Man that puts his Bread in his Pocket, and not in his Stomach ; and if he go on Thus, he may be famiſh'd for want of Suſtenance, notwithſtand- ing both Pockets are full. Thus they continue, Fools, with a vaſt Treaſure of Wiſdom in their Brains. They ſtudy for Entertainment, or Oſtentation, or Gain, or Applauſe; and not for their own true Benefit, and the becoming Uſeful to the World. They are living Repertories and Common-place Books; and would be rare Compilers of Precedents and Reports, Cicero, they tell you, or Ariſtotle, or Plato ſay Thus and Thus ; but all this while, They ſay not one Tittle of their own Obſervation. They are guil- ty of Two great Faults : One is, that they do not apply what they read, to themſelves, nor make it their own by Meditation, Reflection, and Uſe ; ſo that all this while they have not advanc'd one Step in Virtue; nor are One whit more Prudent, more Reſolute and Confirm'd in Goodneſs; and thus their Scholarſhip is never digeſted, and incorpo- rated with the Soul, but ſwims and floats about in the Brain, and conſequently can never nouriſh, or do them any manner of Good. The Other is, That in all this Time and Trouble, ſo diligently ſpent in heaping together the Wealth of other Men, they neglect their own Proper and Natural Fund, and let this lie dead, and ruſt upon their Hands, for want of Exerciſe," Now, Others, who are not £apable of Study, have nothing but their own cº - - • * : * , . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . * : . . SČnig Ch. 14. The Tuty of Parents and Children. 583 / Senſe and Reaſon to be intent upon ; and therefore they muſt keep it in conſtant Employment. They manure and cultivate their little Plat of Ground, and reap a-Crop in proportion, to their Diligence ; grow Better, and Wiſer, more Reſolute and Steady, though not ſo Knowing, or ſo Eloquent, ſo Wealthy, or ſo Celebrated in the World. * . The whole of which Obſervation may be reduced to that - ſhort Maxim of an Author to this purpoſe ; That weak and little Souls are ſpoiled by Learning, but vigorous and great Ones are perfeited by it. The Former are diverted by it from Matters more Weighty and Subſtantial ; the Latter make it only Subſervient to ſuch, and tranſcribe it all into their own Practice. Now, the Method, which I would preſcribe, for reform- ing this unprofitable and ſuperficial Way of Study, is as follows. Not to trouble our Heads, and waſt our Time, in retaining and treaſuring up other Mens Knowledge; only that we may be able to repeat and quote it, and make a Shew and Noiſe with it in Company ; or elſeto convert it to Gain, and ſo employ it to Sordid and Mercenary Purpoſes ; but to enrich our Minds in good Earneſt, by making other Mens Notions our own : Not barely to give them lodging and Entertainment in our Souls, and uſe them like Gueſts, but to incorporate and tranſubſtantiate them : Not only to ſprinkle the Mind with them, but thoroughly to ſoak, and drench it; that the Tinéture may be taken all over, and we may become effectually Wiſe, and Good, and Genç. rous, and brave ; For if This be not done, what is all our Study good for P “We muſt not only get Mºſdom, but we muft uſe and enjoy it, if we will do any thing to Pur- poſe. We muſt not do like the Gatherers of Noſegays, that pick up here and there whole Flowers, and after that make them up into Noſegays to ſell or give away. ; For thus unskilful Students do; They get together a Collection of good Sayings and Obſervations out of the Books they have read ; merely for the Sake of Oſtentation, and to put them off in all Company where they come : But we muſt imitate the Bees, that never take away the Flower entire ; but fit and brood upon it, ſuck out the Life, and Spirit, and Quinteſſence, and convert it into their own Subſtance, and Nouriſhment; and when This is done, they do not render it back again in Thyme, or Marjoram, as they "Nonparanda nobis folum, fed fruenda ſpientia eſt. - - - - - - - - - - - Pp 4 drew 22. | Ch. 14. The Tuty of Parents and Children. 585 by ; but theſe we may fix and dwell upon, becauſe They will not fail to ſtick by Us, and amply to reward our Pains. This End, to which the Inſtruction of young People ſhould 24. be directed, and the ſtating our Compariſon between Wiſdom and acquired Learning hath detain'd us a very great while, by Reaſon of the Controverfies ariſing upon it. Let us now at length proſecute the other Parts of this Subječt, and come to thoſe Directions which ſtill remain behind. Now, the Manner of either informing one's ſelf, or inſtructing others, is very various : For firſt there are Two Ways of Learning, the One Verbal ; that is, by Precepts, Inſtructions,and Leſſons read, or heard, or explained to us; or elſe by Conference. and Diſcourſe with able and good Men, thus poliſhing, and whetting our Minds upon Theirs; as Iron is brightened, and cleanſed, and º: by the File. This is a very agreable, and pleaſant, and Natural Courſe. - - The Other Method of Inſtruction is by Facts; This is 25. what we call Example, and a mighty Advantage may be made of it, not only with Regard to thoſe Good and Com- mendable Ones, which we ſhall do well carefully to Copy, and conform our ſelves to ; but to thoſe likewiſe, that are Ill; ſuch as we are obliged to avoid and deteſt, and ſuffer no manner of Reſemblance, or Agreement with. Some Diſ- poſitions are ſo formed, that they improve abundantly more, by this kind of Inſtruction taken from Contraries; and are much more dextrous at Declining, than Imitating. This is particularly the Method, which publick Juſtice takes with us; It condemns one Malefactor, that he may be a Warn- ing, and create Horror in others. And Cato the Elder uſed to ſay, that Wiſe Men might learn a great deal more from Fools, than Fools could from Wiſe Men. The Lacedamomi- ans, to work in their Children an Abhorrence of Drunken- neſs, and draw them off from this beaſtly Vice effectually, made their Slaves drunk; that ſo this Odious and Ridicu- lous. Spectacle, might leave laſting Impreſions behind it. Now, this Second Way of Learning by Example, is infi- nitely the eaſier, and more entertaining of the Two. To learn by Precepts is a long and tedious journey, and carries us a great way about ; becauſe it coſts us Time and Pains to underſtand them; and freſh Labour to remember what we do underſtand ; and, after all this, the greateſt and moſt difficult Part of our Buſineſs, is to be ready and punctual in the Practice of what we do remember. So that we caſi- not eaſily aſſure our ſelves of reaping the Fruit, wº aii. Ch. 14. The Tuty of Parents and Children. 587 by keeping the Body in Motion and Moderate Exerciſe, a due Medium between Idleneſs and Fatigue : And it keeps the Mind in contiqual Employment too, by preſenting new and ſtrange Objects to it every Day; and provoking it to proper Obſervations and Reflections from them; and parti- cularly to the drawing Compariſons between theſe freſh and foreign Matters, and what we had ſeen and were acquainted with before. And indeed there is no better School of Life in the World, than the ſeeing continually ſo many diffe- rent Tempers and Ways of living ; contemplating the Beau- ty of Nature in all her different Forms, and out of all theſe, to pick and cull that, which may complete and a- dorn our own Converſation. The other Sort of Correſpondence is kept up with the 27. Dead by the Help of Books ; and This is more ſure and conſtant to us. We have it in our own Diſpoſal, and can go - into this Company when we will ; and beſide, it is more ſuitable to the Circumſtances of moſt Men, becauſe the Trouble and Expence is much Eaſier, than in the former Caſe. They who know how to make a good Uſe of this, may reap infinite Advantage and Satisfaction from it. It diſcharges us from the Burden of a troubleſome Idleneſs; fills up the void Spaces of Leiſure ; and leaves no Room for any Complaints of Time hanging upon our Hands; It draws us from the vain and tormenting Imaginations of a roving Mind ; and diverts the Uneaſineſs of any Affairs or Accidents from without, which are apt to diſtraćt and . perplex our Thoughts, when they find us out of Buſineſs, and at Liberty to attend them : It is a powerful Preſerva- tive againſt Vice; not only by the Force of the Arguments and Inſtructions it furniſhes us with, to oppoſe and ſubdue it, but by keeping us out of Harm's Way, and at a di- ſtance from the Temptation : It miniſters Comfort, and marvellous Relief in our Calamities and Sufferings ; but then it muſt be acknowledged with all, that it only contri- butes to the Health and Good Conſtitution of the Mind ; for this is a Sedentary Life, it keeps the Body out of Ex- erciſe; and, if purſued with great Wehemence and con- ſtant Application, waſts its Strength, impairs its Vigour and Complexion, and diſpoſes it to Melancholy, and Diſeaſes. - The next thing to be done is to give ſome Directions con- 28. cerning a Tutor's Method, and the Forms of Inſtruction, Putting our which it will be proper for him to Obſerve, in Order ta the Scholars up- - - - - - - - * - - - - - making on Diſcourſe / | Ch. 14. The Duty of Parents and Children. 589 Objectors. But indeed a much Greater than Socrates hath ſet us a Pattern in it; Even our Bleſſed Lord, who, with inimitable Prudence, appealed to Men's own Senſe and Judg- ment; and as he ſometimes taught his Diſciples, ſo did he at others confute his Adverſaries out of their own Mouths. Now theſe Queſtions and Conferences need not always be confin'd to ſuch Subjects, as the Attainments of Memory, or Fancy, or what we call acquired Knowledge are concern'd in ; but may, (indeed they ought much ra- ther to) be extended to ſuch as are Tryals of the Judg- ment, and ſound Senſe. So that no ſort of Subjects will be excluded ; for all, even the leaſt and moſt Inconfiderable, are capable of being employed to very good Purpoſe. The Negligence of a Servant, the Folly of a Child, the Moroſe- neſs and Ill-nature of a Clown, the Sports or Plays of Boys, . the Talk at Table ; for the Excellency and Buſineſs of Judg- ment does by no Means conſiſt in the Management of De- termination of Weighty or Sublime Matters only, but in ſº a true and Right Deciſion, and ſetting a juſt Wa- ue upon all Manner of Things, be they Great or Small, Trivial or Important: It is not the Condition of the Sub- ject, but the Truth, and Pertinency of what is reſolved, and ſaid upon it, that proves the Perſon to be Judicious. It will be very convenient therefore to let him deliver his Opinion of Men and Aétions ; but, to be ſure, always to ſay ſomewhat in Juſtification of his Opinion ; and to let nothing paſs without ſome Reflexion, and the Inducements, which move him to think thus rather than otherwiſe: For This will have a wonderful Influence in the directing his Conſcience, and practical Judgment; which is of all other Fa- culties moſt neceſſary to be cultivated and ſet Right; becauſe, if This Happen to go amiſs, all our Actions which reſult from its Determination, muſt conſequently be Irregular. Cyrus his Tutor in Xenophon took this Courſe; and propounded the following Matter of Fact for an Exerciſe and Leſſon to his Pupil. A great Boy having a ſhort Coat, gave it to one of his Playfellows, who was leſs than himſelf, and took away his Coat in Exchange, which was Larger, and too Big for the right Owner: Now, the Thing required of Cyrus was to deliver his judgment upon this Matter. Cyrus his Opinion was, that the Maſter was very well ordered, and much better than before ; for now both the Boys were fitted to their Turn, whereas, till that Exchange was made, - neither of them was ſo. His Tutor rebuked him very ſharply for ſo raſh and unjuſt a Judgment; for that he º only 59 o Of Wiſdom. Book III. 29. only confidered the Convenience of the Thing, and not the Right and Merits of the Cauſe ; ſince Juſtice is of ſo much greater Conſequence, that the other ought not to be put into the Balance with it; nor muſt a Man's Proper- ty be invaded, upon the Pretence of giving ſomewhat that its fitter for his Circumſtances in the ſtead of it. This now is an excellent Way of informing them. Again, When they repeat or quote any Thing out of their Books; as Cicero, or Ariſtotle, or the like, This Task ſhould be impoſed, not merely for the Sake of retaining it in their Memories, but to faſten it in their Minds, and give them a true Taft of it, and enable them to judge of it themſelves. And, in order to this, he ſhould take it under all its different Appearances turn and examine it every way; and be taught to apply it to ſeveral Subječts. It would be a Matter of very ſmall Conſequence, for a Youth to tell a Story, of Cato's killing himſelf, for Fear of falling into the Hands of Ceſar; or how Brutus and Caſſius engaged in the taking Caſar off; This is the leaſt Part of the Improvement ſuch Hiſtorical Narrations are Capable of furniſhing. The Main Point is, To call theſe Men before him, to Arraign, and Try, and Sen- tence them for theſe Aétions; Whether they did Well or Ill; whether they conſulted the Publick Good, and behaved themſelves like true Patriots ; what Prudence, and Juſtice, and Courage, there was in theſe Inſtances; and wherein theſe Excellencies exerted, or their Contrary Qualities be- trayed themſelves. Laſtly, In all the Queſtions, and Confe- rences, he ought to take Care, that his Charge proceed ac- cording to Truth ; that he be taught to expreſs himſelf Pro- ſº and Pertinently ; to reaſon juſtly ; and to exerciſe is Pračtical Judgment of Things, which is an Excellence and Accompliſhment infinitely to be preferred before any the niceſt Subtilties of the moſt refined ſpeculative Knowledge. And in ſuch Exerciſes as theſe, No Doubt ſhould be left unſatisfied; no Point ſuffered to paſs off Imperfectly diſ- cuſs'd ; no Connivence given to lame and ſuperficial Ac- counts of Things, the little Shiftings of an Argument, or the calling of an other Cauſe ; but the Scholar muſt be preſt home ; carried to the Bottom of all that is propounded; kept cloſe to the Matter in Hand ; that ſo he may be a perfect Maſter of what he undertakes, and have ſolid and ſubſtantial Grounds for the Opinions he entertains. Secondly, He ought to train his Pupil up to a becoming Curioſity, and a Deſire to know every Thing his Condition t 1S 592 Of Wiſdom. Book III. See Book II. Ch. 2. 3 I. and fixes it in Reaſon and Reſolution; which is the higheſt Point of Wiſdom. This Particular, and the Benefits of it, as well as the Abſurdity and great Uneaſineſses of the Con- trary hath been ſo largely inſiſted upon heretofore, that I ſhalſ omit what might be ſaid more upon it here; adding only this Obſervation, That ſuch a large and univerſal Spi- rit muſt be the Buſineſs and Acqueſt of early Application, and Diligence in the Maſter ; before the Prepoſſeſſions of his Native §. and Cuſtoms have taken too faſt Hold up- on his Scholar ; and when he is ripe for Travelling and Converſation, that which will ºft moſt to the per- fe&ting him in this Diſpoſition, is going abroad; conferring much with Foreigners; or, if that cannot be, yet inform- ing himſelf at Home, by reading ſuch Books as give Ac- count of Travels into remote Parts of the World, and contain the Hiſtories of all Nations. Laſtly, Children ought to be taught betimes not to ſwal- low things at a venture, nor receive any Opinions upon Truſt, and the bare Authority of the Perſon who delivers them; but to ſeek and expect all the Evidence that can be had, before they yield their Aſſent. The contrary Eaſi- neſs of Mind, is to ſuffer one's ſelf to be led about hood- winked ; to renounce the Uſe of Reaſon quite, and ſubmit to the Condition of Brutes, whoſe Buſineſs is only to know their Driver, and go as they are directed : Let every Thing therefore be fairly propounded ; let the Arguments on each Side be ſtated, and ſet in their true Light, and then let him chooſe, as Judgment ſhall determine him. If he be at a Loſs, which Side he ſhould incline to, let him deliberate longer, and doubt on ; ſuch a diſtruſt and uncertainty of Mind is an excellent Sign ; more Safe, more Promiſing than a raſh Confidence, which reſolves Right or Wrong, and . thinks it ſelf always ſure, though it can give no reaſon why. The Perplexities and Dilemmas of a cautious and confide- rate Perſon, are much to be preferred before even the true Determinations that are made in a Heat, and by Chance. But then, as the Youth ſhould be taught always to practiſe upon his own Judgment, ſo ſhould he learn likewiſe to have a Modeſt Diffidence of his Abilities; and when any Difficulty interpoſes, or the Reſolution is of great Conſe- quence, to conſult thoſe, who are proper to be adviſed with, and never venture to come to a peremptory Determinati- on, merely upon the Strength of his own reaſoning. For, As the being able to examine and compare Things is one Ch. 14. The Tuty of Parents and Children. 593 One Argument of Sufficiency, ſo is the calling in Help An- other; and the refuſing to reſt upon one's own fingle Opi- nion is no. Reflexion upon our Wiſdom; No Diſparage- ment to what we think alone, but rather the quite con- trary. Next after the Soul of Children, Parents are obliged to ~ * - take Care of their Bodies; and this is not to be deferri Adj. for any more than the other. It hath no diſtinét and ſeparate the Body. Seaſons, but muſt go along with the Former ; and only differs in This, that, tho' we ought to expreſs a conſtant Care and Concern for both, yet we are not obliged to have that Concern equal for both. But, ſince Nature hath united theſe Two into One and the ſame Perſon, we muſt contribute to the Good of each by our joynt Endeavours. Now, the Care of the Body will be moſt profitably Expreſt, not in the Indulging its Appetites, or treating it tenderly (as , the Generality of thoſe, who pretend to refined Educati- on do ;) but by utterly abandoning all Softneſs and effemi- nate Nicety in Cloths and Lodging, Meat and Drink; to give it plain and hearty Nouriſhment ; a ſimple and wholeſome Diet ; conſidering the Convenience of Health and Digeſti- on, more than the Pleaſures and Delicacy of the Palate: To ſupport it in a Condition of Strength, capable of ſup- porting Labour and Hardſhip ; and accordingly inure it to Heat and Cold, Wind and Weather ; That ſo the Muſcles and Nerves, as well as the Soul, may be fortified for Toil; and by That, for Pain; For the Cuſtom of the Former, hardens us againſt the Latter. In a Word, to keep the Bo- dy Vigorous and Freſh; and the Appetite and Conſtitution indifferent to all ſorts of Meats, and Taſts : For the ſeve- ral Parts of this Advice, are by no Means ſo inſignificant, as they may ſeem. It were enough to ſay, that they con- duce mightily to the preſerving and confirming our Health; but That is not all ; for the Benefit extends beyond our own Perſons, and the Publick is the better for them; as they enable and qualifie Men for the enduring Fatigues, and ſo fit them for Buſineſs, and the Service of their Country. It is now Time to apply our ſelves to the Third Branch 33. of this Duty, which contains a Parents Care of his Chil-Piresſions drens Manners; in which, Soul and Body both are very fºr Maiº highly concern'd. Now, this Care confiſts of Two Parts; ners. The Preventing Ill Habits; and Cultivating Good Ones. The Former is the more Neceſſary, and Requires the more diligent Attention of the Two. And This is a Buſineſs, Q q. which 594 of Wiſdom. Book III. our beſt Actions and kindeſt intentions. * 4 Man may be which ought to be begun very early indeed, a Man can hardly ſet about it too ſoon : For Vicious Diſpoſitions grow into Habits apace ; ſo that the Corruption of Nature isſure to be beforehand with us ; and, if theſe Things be not ſtifled in the Birth, it is very difficult Dealing with them afterwards. I ſuppoſe, I need not ſay, that this Endeavour ought to be Univerſ ºl, and bend it ſelf againſt all Vice without Exception: But ſome here ** which I ſhall men- tion, and recommend the ſubduing of more eſpecially, be- cauſe they are more incident to that Condition of Life, and therefore more formidable than the reſt. T. Eff is Lying; A pitiful, poor-ſpirited Vice; the Cha- racter of Slaves and Cowards, the mºſt ungenteel Quality th...an be, and certain Indication of a baſe, degenerate, and timorous Soul ; but more particularly, fit to be cau- tion'd againſt in this Place; becauſe harſh Methods, and ri- jus Sºcrities in the Education of Children, very often #. them into it at firſt, and lay the ſeeds of Fear and Falthood for their whole Lives: - The Second is an Aukward Baſhfulneſs, which puts them upon hiding their Faces, hanging down their Heads, bluſh- ing and locking out of Countenance, when they are ſpoken a to ; makes them incapable of bearing any ſort of Corre- &tion, or the leaſt angry Word, without being diſordered, and ºut quite out of Humor. A great deal of This is . owing to the Natural Weakneſs, and Tenderneſs of their Minds; but this Infirmity muſt be corrected by Study and Application; by learning them to bear Admonition and Re- bikes, uſing them to ſee Company; and fortifying them with . a becoming Aſſurance and Preſence of Mind. Thirdy, All Affectation and Singularity, in their Dreſs, their Mean, their Gate, their Geſtures, their Speech, and every other Part of Behaviour. Making their Deportment and Converſation Maſculine, and free eaſie and unconſtrain- ed: For Affººtation is a ſure Sign of Vanity, an inordinate Deſire of recommending themſelves by doing ſomewhat particular, and out of the common Road; and is extremely iWauſeous and Offenſive to all Companies ; it diſpleaſes even where it labours to oblige; and caſts a Blemiſh upon : nºſe without oftentation, and ſhould labour to be ſo, without . giving Prejudice or Offence. - º “Licet ſapere fine pompā fine invidiá. - . Ch. 14. The Tuty of Parents and Children. 595 But effecially, They muſt check and utterly baniſh all An- ger, and Peewiſhneſs, and Spight, and Qbſtimacy. And in order hereunto, It will be a good Rule to ſettle a Reſoluti- on never to gratifie Children when they are froward, nor give them any thing they cry and are outragious for. To make them ſenſible betimes, that theſe Arts will never do them ſervice ; and are therefore unprofitable, as well as un- becoming. Another neceſſary Courſe to this purpoſe will be, never to flatter, or wheedle, or careſs them in their querulous Humours; for Fondneſs and Indulgence, which is blameable at all times, is of moſt dangerous conſequence at ſuch times as theſe: This abſolutely ruines them to all In- tents and Purpoſes, incourages them to be Paſſionate and Sul- len, if they have not what they ask for, and renders them at length Obſtinate and Headſtrong, Intractable and Inſo- lent : For * Nothing diſpoſes Men more to extravagant Paſſion and Rºſentment, than the being humour'd and cocker'd in their Infancy; and the greateſt part of thoſe Fretful, Exceptious, and Self-conceited Qualities, which render Converſation ſo difficult, and ſo full of Cavils, as we find it, are owing moſt certainly to a Failure in this part of Education. The Nice- neſs and Tenderneſs they have been us'd with in their Infan- cy, and the Unreaſonable Compliances with their Paſſions then, have abſolutely broke their Tempers, and make them Whimſical and Jealous, Furious and domineering all their Life-long ; They expect, becauſe Mothers and Nurſes have done it to my young Maſter and Miſs, that all the World ſhould ſubmit to their Humours when they come to be Men and Women. But it is not ſufficient to clear the Soil of Weeds and Bry- ars, except you ſow it with good Seed ; and therefore at the ſame time you root out Ill Habits, Care muſt be taken to implant Good ones. The firſt and moſt important part whereof is, to Infuſe into them, and take care they be throughly ſeaſon'd with a becoming Reverence, and awful Fear of God; learning them to tremble at his infinite and incomprehenſible Majeſty; to admire and adore the Perſe- Čtion of his Holineſs; to take his Name into their Mouths but very ſeldom; and when they do, to mention it with Gravity and great Reſpect; to diſcourſe of his Power, his Wiſdom his Eternal Eſſence, his Will, his Word, and his Works, not indifferently, and upon every Occaſion; but with ſuch Seriouſneſs and Submiſſion, ſuch Modeſty and f. * Nihil magis reddet Itagündes, guam Educatio mollis & blinda. - Q-5 2. Humility; | Ch. 14. The Tuty of Parents and Children. 597 Let your young Charge be ſo much a Maſter of Converſati- on, as to be capable of keeping all manner of Company, but let him chooſe and frequent none but ſuch as are virtuous and good. Let him abſtain from Vice, not upon Compulſion only, out of Fear, or Ignorance, but out of Inclination and Choice. . Fort There is a great deal of difference between re- % to be Wicked, and not daring, or not knowing how to tº ſo. The Fourth Virtue I deſire to have early ingrafted into the B *II Minds of young People, is Modeſty. This will preſerve . 9. them from that Forwardneſs which puts them upon Con- “” tradićtion and Diſpute, and attacking all they come near. With ſome Perſons it is never proper for us to engage at all; as thoſe particularly, whoſe Quality is much above, or very much below our own; whether the Difference lie in Birth, or Riches, or Honour, or Parts, or Characters; Theſe can never be a fit Match for us at any time. But indeed, Thoſe that are ſo ſhould not be encounter'd at All Times, nor upon All Occaſions; not for a trifling Circumſtance, an improper Expreſſion; in ſhort, What is of little Moment in it # or little or no Concern to Us, will not juſtifie our wrangling for it. ...To let nothing go without putting in an Exception to it, is ill-manner'd, impertinent, and troubleſome : But even in thoſe things that are worth a Diſpute,to be opinionative and peremptory, warm and violent, clamorous and loud, is as much a Breach of this Virtue; for Modeſty teaches Men to be Meek and Gentle, Moderate and Condeſcending; it can- not be reconcil'd with a poſitive dogmatical way of Talk with an abounding in our own Senſe, and a Reſolution not to be convinc'd : But it yields the Point when it is no longer defenſible ; and, As it never diſputes for Oſten- ration, or Diſputing's ſake, ſo it hath a juſt Deference to the Perſon, and his contrary Opinion ; it preſerves Decency and good Manners; allows all that can poſſibly be granted, and takes Care to ſoften the Oppoſition of that which Judgment will not ſuffer it to allow. But of This I have ſpoken in another Part of this Treatiſe already; and therefore ſhall diſmiſs the Subječt at preſent, and with it º parts of that Duty which Parents owe to their Chil- ten. The Fourth and Laſt part of this Duty concerns the Af- 35. ' fection they ought to bear towards their Children, and the Paternal manner of treating and converſing with them when they are 4ffection. t Multum intereſt, utrum peccare quis nolit, autneſciat. - Qq 3 grown 598 of Wiſdom. Book III. 36. Of two #ind. grown up, and the former Rules have had, their deſir'd Ef- ject. Now we need not be told that the Affection between Parents and Children is natural and reciprocal. But it is ſtronger and more natural on the Parent's fide; becauſe This is the ſtreight Courſe of Nature, carrying on the Life, and promoting the Succeſſion of Mankind by the Deſcent of a fight Line; whereas That of Children is only by way of Rebound and Reflection, and conſequently cannot move ſo vigorouſly back again, as the former does forward. This indeed ſcèms rather to be the Paying of a Debt, and the Senſe and Return of Kindneſſes receiv'd, than free, and natural, and pure Love. Beſides, He that firſt does the Kindneſs, loves more than the Perſon who is paſſive, and receives it: And therefore the Parent, who is the firſt Mover, loves more vehemently than he is belov'd again. Of this Aſſertion there are many Arguments to aſſure us. Every Thing is fond of Exiſtence, and Exiſtence proves it ſelf by Exerciſe and Aéti- on. Now whoever does Good to another, does after ſome ſort exiſt in that Perſon ; and he who gives Being, mani- feſtly lives and acts in That Being which is propagated by him. He that does a Kindneſs, does a noble and generous Thing ; but he who receives it, hath not the ſame to alledg. For the Virtue is the proper Quality of the Firſt ; but the Profit and Advantage is peculiar to the Second. Now Vir- tue, we know, is rooted in the Nature of the Thing, and conſequently is a more worthy and amiable, a more firm and permanent Quality, than that of Advantage can poſſibly be; for This is additional, occaſional, and accidental only; it may quickly vaniſh into nothing, and take it ſelf away. Again, We are fond of thoſe Things that are obtain'd with Difficulty and Expence; That is dear to us which coſts us dear, ays the Proverb. But the Bringing Children into the World, the Cheriſhing, Maintaining, and Educating them, are infinitely more troubleſome for Parents to beſtow, than it is poſſible to be to Children to receive theſe Ad- Vantages. - t - But this Love of Parents is capable of a very juſt Diſtin- Čtion ; and tho' there be two different ſorts of it, yet thus far they agree, that both are Natural. The Firſt is purely and entirely ſo ; little, if at all remov’d from that which we commonly call Inſtinct in Brutes ; for they partake of it as well, as we ... This diſpoſes Parents to a ſtrange Tenderneſs for their Children, even at the Breaſt, and in the Cradle, and gives the firſt Infant-Cries and Complaints, a wondrous Power of moving Compaſſion, and piercing their very Souls. - - - This Ch. 14 The Tuty of Tarents and Children. 5.99 - This likewiſe inſpires an unaccountable Fondneſs and De- light in them ; while as yet they are only capable of divert- ing us, and as meer Play-things, as thoſe Wax and Plaiſter- Babies, which themſelves are ſhortly to be entertain'd withal. Now This Affection is not ſtrictly and properly Humane: Nor ought a Man enrich'd with an Endowment ſo noble as Reaſon, to ſuffer himſelf to be thus enſlav'd to Nature, after the manner of Beaſts that know no better; but rather he ſhou'd be led by theſe Motions of the Soul, and follow them freely, with all that Temper and Evenneſs, which Judgment and Conſideration ſhou'd inſpire : For theſe ſhould preſide over Nature, and moderate its Affections, reducing all to the Meaſures and Guidance of Reaſon. But now the other ſort is more agreeable to Theſe, and conſequently more Humane and worthy of us. This inclines us to love our Children more or leſs, as they are more or leſs attractive and deſerving our Affection ; to riſe in This as theſe tender Plants of ours Bloſ- ſom and Bud ; and in proportion to the early Dawnings and brighter and ſtronger Shinings of Wit and good Senſe, Virtue and Goodneſs in them. Some Parents there are, who ſeem wonderfully tranſported with the firſt Appearances of this kind, but loſe the Satisfaction ſoon after, becauſe the Charge of maintaining them at firſt, is no great Matter; but That of the Education, which muſt improve and finiſh them, and bring Credit to their Natural Gifts, is grievous and in- ſupportable. This looks as if they grudg’d their Children the Honour and Happineſs of growing wiſer and better, and were ſorry that they anſwer the End of their Creation ; A Folly ſo abſurd, ſo infinitely unreaſonable, that we may juſt- ly call them brutiſh and inhumane Fathers who are guilty of it. Now in purſuance of this Second and properly Paternal Affection, Parents ſhould by all means admit their Children, ſo ſoon as they are capable of it, to keep them Company : They ſhould make them a competent Allowance fit for the Rank and Condition of them and their Family; ſhou'd en- ter them into Buſineſs, and let them ſee the World; confer and conſult with them about their own Private Affairs, com- municate their Deſigns, their Opinions to them, not only as their Companions, but their Friends, and not keep them in Darkneſs, and Strangers to things which they have ſo great an Intereſt in ; Theſe ſhould conſent to, and even conde- ſcend to aſſiſt in their becoming and innocent Diverſions, as Occaſions ſhall offer, and ſo É. as any of theſe things can conveniently be done ; but ſtill ſo as to preſerve all due re- Q Q 4 gard 37- 6oo Of Wiſdom. Book III. gard to their own Authority, and the Character of a Parent. For certainly ſuch prudent Reſerves may be us'd in this Caſe, as wou'd in no degree diminiſh That; and yet abun- dantly condemn that ſtern and auſtere, that magiſterial and imperious Countenance and Carriage, which never lets a Child hear one mild Word, nor ſee one pleaſant Look. Men think it now below them to hear of the Relation, and diſ- dain to be call'd Fathers; when yet God himſelf does not only condeſcend to, but delight in that Title, above all others whatſoever. They make it no part of their Endeavour or Concern, to win the Love of their Children, but prefer Fear, and Awe, and reſpectful Expreſſions of Diſtance, be- fore all the Endearments and Teſtimonies of a dutiful and tender Affection. And, to contain them in theſe Sentiments the better, and to confirm them the more, they ſhew their Power by holding their Hands, and denying the Supplies that are neceſſary and fit for them; make them (as the Term is ) bite of the Bridle, and not only live like Beggars or Scoundrels at preſent, but threaten to keep them ſo, by lea- ving their Eſtates from them when they die. Now what Stuff is all this? how ſottiſh and ridiculous a Farce do ſuch Peo- ple act? What is this but to diſtruſt the Efficacy of that Authority which is real and natural, and of right belongs to the Relation they ſtand in, that ſo they may uſurp a for reign and unjuſt Juriſdiction, and frame an artificial and ima- ginary Authority to themſelves P. An Authority which all ſe- rious and good Men do but pity of contemn ; nay, which croſſes and contradicts the very End of all this fooliſh Pro- jećt ; for they deſtroy that very Reverence they would main- tain, and render themſelves deſpicable in their own Families, a Jeſt and Scorn even to thoſe Children. But, if it have not this Effect (which it too often hath ) of drawing ſuch Con- tempt upon them, yet, is it a mighty Temptation to young People thus us'd, to take to Tricks, and little diſhoneſt Shifts, and, without the leaſt Remorſe, to cheat and impoſe upon ſuch Parents ; Whoſe Buſineſs, indeed, ſhou'd have been to regulate and inform their Minds, and ſhew them the Equity and Reaſonableneſs of their Duty ; but by no means to have Recourſe to ſuch kind of Treatment as is much more agree- able to the Arbitrary Violence of a Tyrant, than the Affe- ctionate Regards, and kind Care of a Father. What ſays the wiſe Comedian to this purpoſe? - - - - Truly d. 14. The Tuty of Parents and Children. 693 it. The Inſtruments and Immediate Cauſes which the Uni- verſal Father of all things was pleas'd to make choice of, for the bringing us out of Nothing, and making us what we are ; and therefore in that Quality bearing a very great Reſem- blance to God himſelf. The Second is Obedience; Which, provided the Matter of the Command be lawful, cannot be diſpens'd with, upon the Pretence of any Rigour or Hardſhip that it is encumber'd with. And thus we find the Rechabites commended by God himſelf, for complying with the Severities of Life, impoſed upon Them, and their Poſterity, by 3omadab their Anceſtor. The Third is, Succouring them in all their Exigencies and Diſtreſſes; maintaining and cheriſhing them in their Wants and Weakneſſes ; Old Age and Sickneſs, Infirmities and Poverty muſt be ſo far from Provoking our Scorn and Contempt, that they are but ſo many louder Calls, and more engaging Ties to Love and Duty, to Aſſiſtance and Reſpect; aiding and adviſing them in their Buſineſs, and exerting our utmoſt Power to do them Service. Of This we have ſome wonderful Examples in the other Parts of Nature ; and Brutes themſelves have ſet us a noble and almoſt inimitable Pattern; particularly the Stork, which St. Baſil ſo elegantly extols upon this account: For the young Storks are ſaid to nouriſh and feed the old ones; to cover them with their Feathers when the Shedding of their own expoſes them to the Injuries of Cold and Weather ; to fly in couples, and join Wings to carry them on their Backs. Nature, it ſeems, inſpiring them with this Artificial Contrivance of ſhewing this Piety and Affection. This Example is ſo lively, ſo very moving, that the Duty of Parents to their Children hath been expreſs'd in ſome Tranſlations by a vizzazgºw, that is, atting the Part of a Stork. And the Hebrews in conſideration f of this eminent Quality, call this Bird Chaſida, which ſigni- fies Kind, Charitable, Good-Natur'd. Some very remarkable Inſtances of this kind among Men, we read in ancient Hi- ſtory. Tymon, Son to the Great Miltiades, when his Father was dead in Priſon, and ſo poor that he had not wherewith to bury him, (tho’ ſome ſay it was for the Payment of his Debts, for failure whereof his Corpſe was arreſted, and kept above-ground ) ſold himſelf, and ſacrific'd his Liberty, for a Summ of Money, to be expended in defraying the Charges of the Funeral. This Man did not contribute to his Father's Neceſſities out of his own Abundance, or his actual Poſſeſſi- ons, but parted with his Freedom ; a Thing dearer to him and eſteem'd more valuable, than either Fortune, or Life it - ſelf, Jer. xxxv. Of Wiſdom. Book III. | ſelf for his Father's Sake. He did not relieve him alive and, in diſtreſs; but when he was dead, no longer his Father, no longer a Man. What a Brave, what an Heroick Aét was this P What may we reaſonably imagine, ſo gallant a Son would have done, what indeed would he not have done for a living and a neceſſitous Father, One that had asked, or that had needed his Aſſiſtance 2 This is a generous and a glorious Inſtance of the Duty now under Conſideration. We are likewiſe told of Two Examples in the weaker Sex, Women who ſuckled, the One her Father, and the Other her Mother, when they were Priſoners underSentence of Condemnation, and to be famiſhed to Death; which is ſaid to have been heretofore a Puniſhment very commonly inflićted in Capital Caſes. It looks a little Unnatural for a Mother to Subſiſt up- on her Daughter's Milk; This is turning the Stream back again up to the Fountain-Head ; but ſure it deſerves to be confidered by the Ladies of Our Age ; how very Natural, indeed how Fundamental and Primitive a Law of Na- ture it is, for Mothers to ſuckle, and give that Suſtenance, which Nature hath provided on purpoſe to their own Children. The Fourth Duty is, To be governed and directed by them in all Matters of Moment; to attempt no conſide- rable Thing without taking their Advice, and asking their Conſent, and being confirmed in our Intentions and De- figns, by the Parents Approbation and good Liking. This is a general Rule, extending to all the important Affairs of Humane Life ; All that are fit to trouble and conſult them about ; but it hath a ſpecial Regard to the Diſpoſing of themſelves in Marriage, which is of all others the moſt Weighty and Serious ; and ſuch as Parents have a particu- lar right to be well informed of, and perfectly ſatisfied in. The Fifth is, Covering their Vices and Imperfections; ſubmitting to their Humors and Paſſions ; their Severity and hard Uſage ; and bearing all their moſt unreaſonable Peeviſhneſs, and angry Rebukes with Patience and Temper. Of This we have a notable Inſtance in Manlius Pomponiuſ. The Tribune had accuſed the Father of this Manlius to the People, of ſeveral grievous Crimes ; among the reſt of hor- rible Barbarity to his Son; and among other Indignities, that he forc'd him to dig and drive the Plough. This Son went to this Tribune's Houſe; found him in Bed ; and, putting a Knife to his Throat, made him ſwear that he would withdraw the Indićtment, and proſecute his Father Lo farther ; declaring that he had rather ſubmit to the * Slavi | | Ch. 15. Tuties of Maſters and Parents. 605 Slaviſh Drudgery his Father could impoſe upon him, and toil at it all the Days of his Life, than ſee him proſecuted and expoſed for any rigorous Carriage to him. Theſe Five Duties, at firſt Sight, may perhaps ſeem too Rigid, but there is no Child, who would not allow them to be very reaſonable and becoming him to pay, did he but give himſelf the Trouble of conſidering ſeriouſly, how much he hath ſtood his Parents in. What Pain and Anxie- ty, what Tender Care and Concern, what Trouble and Expence, and what a World of Affection went to the bring- ing of him up. But This in Truth is a Computation which no Man is capable of making juſtly, till he come to have Children of his own; Then Matters will appear to him quite otherwiſe, than now they do. And therefore, as the Philoſopher, who was found riding upon a Hobby-Horſe with his little Boy, deſired that his Friend would forbear to expoſe that Levity of his, till he was a Father himſelf: So in the Caſe before us, whoever ſhall imagine, that the Duty to Parents is carried beyond Equity and Reaſon, or Their Merits to their Children over-rated here, we muſt beg that he will be content to ſuſpend his Final Determi- nation of this Matter, till that Time come, which alone can make him a competent Judge of it. C II A. P. XV. Duties of Maſters and Servants TH: remains now only the Third and Laſt Part of Private and Domeſtick Juſtice to be ſpoken to, which conſiſts of the mutual Duties of that loweſt Relation, between Maſters and Servants. Now, in Order to a right Underſtanding of this Matter, we muſt remember, that there are different Sorts of Ser- wants, and more eſpecially theſe Three that follow. The Firſt are, what we call Slaves, in which all the World abounded heretofore, and the greateſt Part of it does ſo ſtill; for except one Quarter of Europe, they are ſtill reckoned as part of their Maſters Riches and Eſtate : And according- ly, they have no Right in any Thing, not ſo much as in their Goods, their Children, or their own Bodies ; but their Patron hath an abſolute Power, to buy and ſell them, to give them, or barter them away ; and to deal by them in aS 606 Of Wiſdom. Book III. Book I. Chap. 43. as Arbitrary and Uncontrouled a Manner, as We do with our Horſes, or Cattel, or any Beaſts of Service. Of theſe we have delivered our Opinion at large in the firſt Book. The Next are, what we commonly call Servants or At- tendants; Theſe are Free-Men, and have a Right Inviola- ble in their own Perſons and Poſſeſſions ; nay, they have ſuch an indefeaſible Liberty, that it cannot be taken away from them, by any Voluntary Compact of their own, or any other Means uſed in Prejudice of it. But they are bound to Pay Honor and Reſpect, Obedience and Service,, for ſo long a Time, and upon ſuch Conditions, as have been covenanted for ; and their Maſters accordingly have a Power of commanding, correcting, and puniſhing them, within the Bounds of Moderation and Diſcretion. The Third Sort are, what we may term Hirelings, or Workmen ; which are ſtill leſs in Subjection than the Former : For they are not obliged to Attendance, nor Obedience in general ; but only to the Performance of that Particular Work, we take them for ; and ſo they only make an Exchange of their Labour and Induſtry, for ſo much of our Money; for thoſe that Hire them, have no Authority either to correót thcm for doing amiſs, or to command them at large in any other Thing. Now, The Duty of Maſters towards their Servants, whether in the Quality of Slaves, or of Attendants, is ; Not to uſe them Barbarouſly, but always to remember, that Theſe too are Men ; of the very ſame Species with- themſelves, made up of the ſame Materials, caſt in the ſame Mould ; deſcended from the ſame Anceſtors. That it is not Nature, which hath put any Difference, but on- ly Fortune; and Fortune is a very Humorſom and changea- ble Thing, for the ſeems to make her ſelf great Diverſion with her Wheel ; and to triumph in turning thoſe that were at the Bottom up to the Top, and tumbling thoſe that ſat at the Top, down to the Bottom. Conſequently, that the Diſtinétion is not ſo great, as they are willing to ima- gine ; nor what can bear them out in keeping their Fel- lows at ſo vaſt a diſtance ; and expecting ſuch wonderful Submiſſions from them. For * theſe, ſays Seneca, are Men, and our poor Friends, and humble Companions, but withall our Fellow-Servants, for we are all equally at the Diſpoſal of the ſame Providence. Our Servants then ſhould be treated | Sunt homines, contubernales, humiles amici, conſervi, a qué Fortunæ ſubječti. - with | Ch. 16. The Tuty of Princes and Subječis. 607 with Courtefie and Condeſcenſion ; not with proud Diſdain, and impious Contempt ; we ſhould rather make it our Bu- . fineſs, that they may love us, than that they may be afraid of us : But to deal Roughly, and uſe them Hardly, diſco- vers great Inhumanity and Cruelty of Diſpoſition ; and plain- ly declares, that we ſhould uſe all Mankind juſt ſo, if we had them as much at our Mercy ; and that it is not want of Will, but want of Power, which hinders us from the Execution of our Barbarous Inclinations. We are alſo obliged to have Regard to their Health, to be Kind and Tender of them in Sickneſs, and ſad Accidents; to Pro- vide for their Inſtruction ; and take ſpecial Care, that º be taught their Duty ; eſpecially ſuch Things as are Neceſ- ſary to be known for the Good of their Souls, and which their everlaſting Salvation may be promoted by. The Duty of Servants is to Honour and fear their Ma- ſters, with regard to this Relation between them; whatſo- ever they may be, or how little ſoever they may deſerve ſuch Deference in any other reſpects. To obey them Faith- fully and Diligently; to be true to their Truſt; to ſerve, not only in Appearance, and while the Maſter's Eye is up- on them; but Sincerely, Seriouſly, and Cordiaſly; out of a Principle of Conſcience, and without the leaſt mixture of Hypocriſie and Diſſimulation. To ſow no Diſcord, or fo- ment Jealoufies and Diſcontents in the Family; to keep Secrets; not to turn Whiſperers or Hearkeners, or buſie Bodies; not divulging what is done at Home to the Pre- judice of their Maſter ; but advancing his Intereſt, and vindicating his Reputation; as well as aſſiſting and defend- ing his Perſon, ſo far as lies in their Power. And indeed there are ſeveral very Noble, and Generous, and Brave In- ſtances upon Record of eminent Things done by Servants for their Maſters; nay, ſome of them have gone ſo far, as to hazard their own, for the ſaving their Maſters Life, or the doing Right to their Honour. - C H A P. XVI. Duty of Prince, and Suljedi. Oncerning Princes and their Dignity, the Different Mea- > ſures of their Power, the Humors to which this Eleva- tion diſpoſes them, the Miſeries and Inconveniences of to - - impor- 608 Of Wiſdom. Book III. important a Truſt, we have had Occaſion to ſpeak already, - in the Forty Sixth Chapter of the Firſt Book ; as , we likewiſe have done very largely in the Second and Third of this Book; concerning their Duty, and how they ought to Govern : But, all this notwithſtanding, we will juſt touch upon the main Strokes, and general Heads, of their Bufineſs, in this Place. A Sovereign Prince is in a middle Station, between God and his People; and therefore a Debtor he is to each of them : As ſuch, he ſhould conſtantly Remember, that he is the living Image and Repreſentation, the Vice-Roy and Commiſſioner General of the Great, the Almighty God; who is likewiſe his Prince and his Maſter; that with re- gard to his People, he is a Shining Light, a Mirror in con- tinual Reflection, a Spectacle ſet up on high, that draws all Eyes to it; A Spring, of whoſe Waters all his Subjects hope to drink; a Spur and mighty Incitement to Virtue ; and one that never can do any Good, but the Benefit of it is diffuſed far and wide, and the remembrance of it faithfully treaſured up, and put to Account. This in ſhort is his Character, and theſe the Conditions of his Station, and from hence it is very eaſie to infer, what muſt needs be required of him to anſwer and fill up the ſeveral Parts of this Deſcription. It is evident then, firſt of all, that he is in an eſpecial Man- ner obliged to Devotion, Religion, Piety and the Fear of God; and That, not only with regard to himſelf, confidered abſtraćtedly, and for the ſatisfying his own Conſcience, as he is a Man ; but moreover with reſpect to his Go- vernment, in his Politick Capacity, and as a Prince. Now, the Piety, which concerns us to obſerve in this Place, is conſequently not ſo much the Perſonal, as the Publick and Princely Acts of it ; The Care and Regard he ought to have for the Preſervation and Security of the Eſtabliſhed Religion ; making ſeaſonable Proviſion for its Protećtion and Defence by wholeſome and wiſe Laws; ordering and inflicting ſevere Penalties, upon the Poiſoners and Diſtur- bers of it, and taking all poſſible Care, that neither the Dočtrines and Myſteries of it be reviled and blaſphemed, nor the Rights of it violated, nor the Exerciſe of it inno- vated and confounded by Fickle and Factious Men. This is a Care, that will conduce mightily to his Honour, and the Security of his own Perſon and Government: For Men are naturally diſpoſed to ſtand in greater Awe of, and pay a more willing Obedience to a Governour, who (they are COIl- Ch. 16. The Tuty of Princes and Subječis. 609 continued) does truly fear God. They are more Fearful and Cautious in forming any Attempts againſt ſuch a one, becauſe the Natural Notions of a Superintending Provi- dence, repreſent him to Mankind, as one under the more ſpecial and immediate Care of God. * Piety (ſays an old Au- thor) is one ſtrong Guard. All the Milice of the Evil Genius, and all the Strength of Fate are not able to take any hold on the Pious Man ; For his God delivers him from all Evil. Nor is this a Safeguard to his Perſon only, but to his Country and Government alſo ; for all the Philoſophers and wiſe Men are unanimouſly agreed, that Religion is the Strongeſt Tye, the cloſeſt and moſt binding Cement of Human Society, and mutual Commerce. - The Prince is alſo bound to pay a ſtrict and inviolable Obedience to the Laws of God ; and to enforce the ſame Obedience and Religious Obſervance upon other People: For theſe Laws are Indiſpenſable and Eternal ; and he, who endeavours the reverſing, or (which as to the Effect is almoſt the ſame thing) the bringing them into publick Neglect and Contempt, is not only a Tyrant, but a Monſter. As to the People under his Juriſdiction; he is oblig'd, firſt of all faithfully and punctually to keep his Promiſes, and Co- venants, and Treaties, whether theſe Engagements were en- tred into with his own Subjects as Parties; or whether with any other, that have an Intereſt in them. This is a Branch of Natural and Univerſal Equity; even God himſelf, who is above all Law but that of his own moſt Holy and Di- vine Will, declares himſelf bound by, and always true to his Promiſes. Hath he ſaid it, and ſhall he not do it 2 and God is not a Man that he ſhould lye, or the Sun of Man tºat he ſhould repent : Behold I the Lord have ſaid it, I will cer- tainly bring it to paſs. Theſe are the Characters given us of Himſelf, by the God that cannot lie, in Holy Scripture. And it would ill become his Image upon Earth, to degene- rate from that Great Pattern above; and be changed into the Reſemblance of Him, who is the Father of Lyes. But, beſides the Obligations to Truth in this Reſpect, A Prince is the Security, the formal Guarantee for the Laws and mu- tual Agreements between his Subjects ; and he is to ſee that they proceed in all their private Tranſactions, accord- ing to #: and Truth. His Engagement therefore to keep his Word is ſuperiour and more binding, than that of * Una cuſtodia Pietas. Pium virum nec malus Genius nec Fa- tum devincit. Deus enim sº ab omni malo. r any |Ch. 16. The Duty of Princes and Subječis. 61. her off, upon Pretence that he was not at Leiſure to do her Right; That if he could not ſpare time to do the Duty of his Office, he ought to lay it down, and be a King no longer. But Demetrius did not come off ſo eaſily upon the like Pro- vocation : For upon his throwing ſeveral of their Petitions into the River, without ever returning any Anſwer to them, or redreſſing the Grievances they complained of, they thought themſelves at Liberty to take an other Courſe, and Dethron'd º that King, who had expreſt ſuch an haughty Diſregard, to his - People, and their Addreſſes. - Once more. He ought to love and to cheriſh, to take a 6. very tender Care of his Subjects; and imitate the King of Kings, in watching over them for their Good : His Affection and his Deportment ought to be That of a Husband to the Wife of his Boſom : His Bowels and provident Concern, Thoſe of a Father to his Children; His Vigilance, That of a Shepherd over his Flock,conſtantly keeping in his Eye the Ad- vantage and Security of his People, and making Their Baſe, * and Quiet, and Welfare, the Aim and End of all his Under- takings. The Happineſs of the Country is the Satisfaction and Joy of a good King ; the Strength, the Wealth, the Ho- nour,the Virtue of his People are his chief Deſire and Delight. . That Prince, who looks no farther than himſelf and his own Intereſt, abuſes and impoſes upon himſelf: For he is none of his own, nor is the State for Him, but He for the State. He is indeed the Maſter and the Governor of it; but not to the Intent that he ſhould dominecr and Tyrannize over it, but that, by the Advantage of ſo great a Power, he may be enabled to ſupport and maintain it. * The People are com- mitted to him, not as an abſolute Poſſeſſion, and to make them Slaves; but as a Truſt, to be their Guardian ; and to uſe them like ſo many Minors under his Direétion ; to che- fiſh, and breed, and watch over them. That by virtue of * his Vigilant Care, his Subjects may ſleep ſecurely ; that in his Toil and Fatigues they may find Eaſe and Leiſure; that his Induſtry may preſerve their Properties and Pleaſures, and that every Man under his Juriſdiction may know and feel experimentally, that he is as much for their Advantage as he is above them in Dignity and Power. - 7. Now, In Order to the Being ſo indeed, and the Effectual diſcharge of this important Truſt, it will be Neceſſary for him to govern himſelf by the Rules, which have been laid down at-large in the Second and Third Chapter of this Book, * Cui non Civium ſervitus tradita, fed tutela, * R r 2. - That Of Wiſdom. Book III. 3. That is, To be ſufficiently provided, with a wiſe Counſel, a ſubſtantial Exchequer, and a convenient Strength of Forces at Home ; and with ſignificant Alliances and Friends abroad. To manage this Proviſion to the beſt Advantage; and ſo to aćt and Rule, both in Peace and War, that he may reign in the Hearts of his People, and be both loved and feared by them at the ſame time. To be ſhort, and ſay all in a Word ; The Character of a truly good King is compounded of theſe following Qualifi- cations. He muſt fear and reverence his Maſter, Almighty God, above all; he muſt be prudent and confiderate in his Deſigns; Vigorous and Bold in the Execution of them ; Firm in his Reſolutions ; True to his Word ; Wiſe and Diſcerning in his Counſel; tender of his Subjects ; aſſiſting to his Friends ; formidable to his Enemies; compaſſionate to thoſe in Diſtreſs; Courteous and Kind to Good Men; a Terror to the Wicked; ro. and Juſt to all. The Duty of Subjects towards their Prince, conſiſts of Three Particulars. The Firſt, is Honour and Reverence; And This is due to Princes, in regard they are the Image and Similitude of the moſt High God; eſtabliſhed and ordaincá by him ; and therefore Thoſe, who diſparage and detract from them, that reviſe or ſpeak ill of them, and endeavour to ſow Diſcords and diſcontented Thoughts, by virulent Re- proaches, or wicked Scandals, are very highly to be blamed. . Theſe are indeed the true Deſcendents, of Prophane and Un- dutiful Ham ; who either invent and contrive, or at leaſt expoſe and deride their Father's Shame. The Second is, Obe- dience ; which is a Word of very extenſive ſignification, and includes ſerving them in the Wars, paying the Taxes and Tributes impoſed by Their Authority, and the like. The Third is, Héartily Deſiring their Happineſs and Proſperity, and recommending Them, and Their Undertakings to the Bleſſing and Protećtion of Almighty God, in conſtant and fervent Prayers for them. - - But a very confiderable Doubt ariſes upon this Occaſion. which is, Whether all theſe Duties are to be paid to all Princes without any Diſtinction; whether wicked Princes, whether Tyrants have a Right to them? This Controverfie cannot be decided by any ſingle poſitive Anſwer; but to come to a true Reſolution of the Point, we muſt ſtate the Caſe, and diſtin- guiſh the Circumſtances cautiouſly: For a Prince may be Ty- tannical either at the very Entrance into his Power, or in the Exerciſe of it afterwards; that is, He may uſurp his Autho- rity, or he may abuſe that Rightful one which he is fairly - - - ~ 1. poſſeſt *- 614 Of Wiſdom. Book III. and Prayers ought ſtill to be paid, with Patience and Submiſ- fion, and a Senſe and Acknowledgment of the Wrath of God let looſe upon them in this Scourge of an Unjuſt Prince: For there are Three Confiderations fit to be attended to upon ſuch Occaſions. One is, That all Power is of God, and he that re- fifteth the Power, reſiſteth the Ordinance of God. * The Gods, (ſays a very wiſe and judicious Heathen) have committed the Supreme 3 udgment, and laſt Determination of Humane Af- fairs to the Prince : The Glory of Obedience is the Subječi's Portion ; we muſt therefore wiſh and pray that we may have monc but Good Princes ; but when we have them, we muſt en- dure them whether they be Good or Bad. The Ground and for- mal Reaſon of our Obedience does not lie in the Conſidera- tion of their Perſonal Virtues, or juſt and commendable Ad- miniſtration, but in their Character, and Superiority over us. There is a vaſt difference between True and Good; and he who is truly our Governour, tho’ he be not a good Gover- nour, is to be regarded as the Laws themſelves are ; which bind us, not upon the Account of their Juſtice or Conveni- ence, but purely upon the Account of their being Laws, and having the Sanction that is requiſite to give them Authority. A Second Reflection upon this Occaſion ſhou'd be, That God permits Hypocrites, and ſets up wicked Men to bear Rule for the Sins of a People, and in the Day of his fierce Anger. He makes a barbarous unjuſt Prince the Inſtrument of his Vengeance; and therefore This muſt be born with the ſame Temper of Mind with which we ſubmit to other Calamities made uſe of by God for that Purpoſe: if Like a Bltſ, or a Barren Year, Inundations and exceſſive Rains, or other Evil; in the Courſe of Nature, ſo ſhou'd the Avarice and Luxury of Princes be endur'd by thoſe they oppreſs, ſays Tacitus. Inſtances of this kind we have in Saul, and Nebuchadnezzar, and ſeve-, ral of the Roman Emperors before Conſtantine's Time; and ſome others,as wicked Tyrants as was poſſible for them to be, and yet Good Men paid them theſe Three Duties notwith- ſtanding, and were commanded ſo to do by the Prophets and Preachers of thoſe Times; in Agreement to our Great Ma- ſter, the Oracle of Truth it ſelf, who directs his Diſciples to obey thoſe that ſat in Moſes's Chair; tho' in the ſame Breath * Principi ſummum Rerum judicium Dii dederunt: Subditis obſequii gloria relićta eſt. Bonos Principes voto expetere, qua- leſcunque tolerare. - t Quomodo Sterilitatem, aut nimios Imbres, & caetera Natura: ma'a, fic Luxum & Avaritiam Dominantium tolerare. h 6. Ch. 16. Tuties of Princes and Subječis. 615 he charges thoſe very Governours with Wickedneſs and Cru- elty, with binding heavy Burdens, and laying upon Men's Shoul- ders more than cou’d be born. The Third Caſe concerns the State in general, when the very Fundamentals of Government are endeavour'd to be torn up, Ör over-turn'd; when he goes about to change, or to take away the Conſtitution ; as if, for Inſtance, a Prince wou'd make that which is Elective, Hereditary; or from an Ari- ſtocracy, or Democracy, or any other ſuch mixt Govern- ment, wou'd engroſs all to himſelf, and make it an Abſolute Monarchy; or in any other Caſe like or equivalent to theſe, ſhall attempt to alter the State from what it was formerly, and ought to continue; In this Caſe Mcn may and ought to withſtand him, and to hinder any ſuch Attempts from taking . place upon them, and That, either by Methods of Legal Ju- ſtice, or otherwiſe : For a Prince is not the Maſter and Diſ- poſer of the Conſtitution, but the Guardian and Conſervator of it. But then, This muſt be done regularly too; for the ſetting ſuch Matters right does not belong to all the Subjects indifferently; but to thoſe who are the Truſtees of the State, or have the Principal Intereſt in it. Who theſe are, the Conſtitutions of the reſpective Countries muſt determine : In Elective Kingdoms, the Eleºtors; in others, the Princes of the Blood; In Republicks, and thoſe Places which have Fundamental Laws, the States-General aſlembled : And This I conceive to be the only Caſe which can juſtifie Subjects in reſiſting a Tyrant in this Second Senſe of the Word, with regard to the Exerciſe of his Power, and the Pretence of Male-Adminiſtration. What I have hitherto deliver'd upon this laſt Caſe is meant of Sulječis; that is, of Thoſe who are not permitted in any Circumſtances, or º any Pro- vocation to attempt any thing againſt their Sovereign ; of Them, I ſay, who are by the Laws declar'd guilty of a Ca- pital Crime, if they ſhall but Counſel, or compaſs, or ſo much as imagine the Death of their King. And if ſo much be allowable to Men under theſe Obligations and Penalties, then, no doubt, it is lawful, nay, it is highly commendable. and a glorious Aëtion in a Stranger, or Foreign Prince, to: take up Arms, for the Defence and Revenge of a whole Na- tion, labouring under unjuſt Oppreſſion : To redreſs their Wrongs, and deliver them from the heavy Yoke of Tyran- ny; as we find Hercules in his Time, and afterwards Dion and Timoleon, and not long ſince Tamerlane Prince of the Tartars, who defeated Bajažet the Turkiſh, Emperor at the Siege of Conſtantinople, Matt.xxiii | Such 616 Of Wiſdom. Book III. 12. Such is the State of a Subject's Duty to his Prince, during his Life-time; but when Princes are dead, it is but an Aćt of Juſtice to examine into their Aétions. It is indeed a Cu- ſtomary thing ſo to do, and a very reaſonable and uſeful Cuſtom no doubt it is. The Nations that obſerve it, find mighty Benefit from this Practice ; and all good Princes will have reaſon to encourage and deſire it; becauſe thus that common Complaint wou'd be quite taken away, that all Princes are treated alike, and that there is no Diſtinétion ob- ſerv'd in our Reſpects to the Memory of the Good and the Bad. Kings are the Law's Fellows, if they be not their Maſters: And the Revenge, which Juſtice will not permit to be taken upon their Perſons, it is but fitting that it ſhou'd take upon their Reputation, and the Eſtates of their Succeſſors. We owe Subjection and Obedience to all Kings alike ; be- cauſe This is an Obligation annex'd to their Offices, and payable purely upon that Conſideration; but we cannot be i.. for our Affection and Eſteem to all alike, becauſe Theſe will depend upon their Qualities, and are due only to their Merits and Virtue. Let us then reſolve patiently to en- dure even the worſt and moſt unworthy, while we have them; let us endeavour to cover and conceal the Vices of the Living, for this is whatReſpect to theirAuthority requires from us;and beſides, the Weight and Difficulty of their Charge, and the Preſervation of Publick Peace and Order, challenge our joint Endeavours, and ſtand in need of the utmoſt we can poſſibly do to ſupport them. But when they are withdrawn, and one off the Stage, it wou'd be hard to deny us a juſt Li- rty of expreſſing our real Thoughts of them, without all that Reſerve. Nay it is an honeſt and a commendable Pat- ...tern which theſe Proceedings ſet to Poſterity; who cannot but look upon it as a ſingular Commendation of our Obedience and Reſpect, that we were content to pay theſe to a Maſter, whoſe Imperfections we were very well acquainted with. Thoſe Writers, who upon the Account of Perſonal Intereſt, or Obligations, eſpouſe the Memory of a wicked Prince, and ſet it off to the World; do an Aćt of Private Juſtice at the Expence of the Publick: For to ſerve, or ſhew them- ſelves grateful, they defraud Mankind of the Truth. This Reflection were an admirable Leſſon for a Succeſſor, if it cou’d be well obſerv'd ; and a powerful Check it might be to the Exorbitancies of Power, to think with one's ſelf, that the Time will ſhortly come, when the World will make us as free with his Character,as they do at preſent with his Predeceſſor's. s - : º- § ! CHAP | | Ch. 17. Duty of Magiſtrates. 609 C H A P. XVII. Duty of Magiſtrate. - Thºſe few Wiſe and Good Men, who are Members of the 1. Common-wealth, would doubtleſs be better pleaſed to retire into themſelves, and live at Eaſe; full of that ſweet Content, which excellent and intelligent Perſons know how to give themſelves, in the Contemplation of the Beauties of Nature, and the works of Providence, than to ſacrifice all this ſatisfaction to Buſineſs and a publick Poſt; were it not, that they hope to do ſome good, in being ſerviceable to their Country by their own Endeavours, and in preventing the whole Adminiſtration of Affairs from falling into ill, or un- skilful hands. . This may and ought to prevail with Perſons of this Character, to conſent to the trouble of being Magi- ſtrates: But to cabal and make Parties, and court Employ- ments of Truſt with Eagerneſs and Paſſion; eſpecially ſuch as are judicial, is a very baſe and ſcandalous Practice; condemned as ſuch by all good Laws, even thoſe of Pagan Republicks, (as the 3alian Law among the Romans abun- dantly teſtifies,) unbecoming a Man of Honour; and the ſhrewdeſt ſign that can be, that the Perſon is unfit for the Truſt he ſeeks ſo vehemently. To buy publick Offices is ſtill more infamous and abominable; the moſt ſordid, the moſt villainous way of Trading in the World: For it is plain, he that buys in the Piece, muſt make himſelf whole by ſell- ing out again in Parcels. Which was a good Reaſon for the * Emperour Severus, when he was declaring againſt a Fault of this nature, to ſay, That it was very hard to condemn a ! *: for making Money of that which he had given Money for before, - - - - - - Juſt for all the World, as a Man dreſſes, and ſets his Per- ſon in order and form, putting on his beſt Face before, he goes abroad, that he may make a Figure, and appear well in * Company; ſo is it fit that a Man ſhould learn to govern his own Paſſions, and bring his Mind to good Habits, be- fore he preſume to meddle with publick Buſineſs, or take upon him the Charge of governing other People, No Man is ſo weak, to enter the Liſts with an unmanaged Horſe, or to hazard his Perſon with ſuch a one in any Service of Con- ſequence and Danger bit trains and teaches him firſt, ſ P. r breeds 3. Of Wiſdom. Book III. breeds him to his hand, and uſes him to the Exerciſe he is deſigned for: And is there not the ſame reaſon that this wild and reſtiff part of our Soul ſhould be tamed and accuſtomed to bear the Bit P Should be perfectly inſtructed in thoſe Laws and Meaſures which are to be the Rules of our Aéti- ons, and upon which, the good or ill Conduct of our Lives will depend ? Is it not reaſonable, I ſay, That a Man ſhould be Maſter of his own private Behaviour, and expert in ma- king the beſt of every Accident and Occaſion, before he venture out upon the publick Stage; and either give Laws to others, or correct them for the neglect of thoſe they have aiready ? And yet, (as Socrates obſerved very truly) the man- ner of the World is quite otherwiſe: For, though no body un- dertakes to Exerciſe a Trade, to which he hath not been Edu- cated, and ſerved a long Apprenticeſhip; and how Mean or Mechanical ſoever the Calling be, ſeveral Years are be- fowed upon the Learning of it; Yet in the caſe of publick Adminiſtrations which is of all other Profeſſions the moſt intricate and difficult, (ſo abſurd, ſo wretchedly careleſs are we) that every body is admitted, every body thinks himſelf abundantly qualified to undertake them. Theſe Commiſſions are made Complements and things of Courſe, without any Conſideration of Men's Abilities; or regarding at all, whe- ther they know any thing of the matter; as if a Man's Qua- lity, or the having an Eſtate in his Country, could inform ſ his Underſtanding, or ſecure his Integrity, or render him capable of diſcerning between Right and Wrong, and a competent Judge of his Poorer, (but perhaps much honeſter and wiſer) Neighbours. Magiſtrates have a mixt Quality, and are placed in a middle Station, between ſovereign Princes and private Sub- jects. Theſe Subalterns therefore have a double Task in- cumbent upon them, and muſt learn both how to Command, and how to Obey. To obey the Princes, who truſt and employ them, to ſubmit to, and truckle under the Para- mount Authority of their Superiour Officers; to pay Reſpect to their Equals; to Command thoſe under their Juriſdiction; to Protect and Defend the Poor, and thoſe that are unable to Contend for their own; to ſtand in the Gap, and oppoſe the powerful Oppreſſor; and to diſtribute Right and Juſtice to all Sorts and Conditions of Men whatſoever. And, if this be the Buſineſs of a Magiſtrate, well might it grow into a Proverb, that the Office diſcovers the Man, fince no mean Abilities, no common Addreſs, can ſuffice for the ſuſtaining - - - ſo Ch. 17. Duty of Magiſtrates. 6 If ſo many Characters at once, and to Aét each part ſo well, as to merit a general Approbation and Applauſe. As to the Sovereign, by whoſe Commiſſion the Magiſtrates Aét, his Commands muſt be the Rule of their Behaviour. Some of his Orders they ought to Execute ſpeedily, ſome again they muſt by no means comply with ; or be in any degree inſtrumental in the Execution of them; and in others the moſt adviſeable Courſe will be, to ſuſpend their Obedi- ence for ſome convenient time. In all Commiſſions, which leave the Cogniſance of the Matter to the Magiſtrate, ſuch as thoſe of oyer and Termi- ner; and in all others, where there is this Clauſe, (ſo far as to you ſhall appear) or any other Clauſe equivalent to This, inſerted; or which, though they do not refer the Cogniſance to Him, yet order ſuch things, as are either manifeſtly juſt, or at leaſt lawful and indifferent in their own Natures, he ought to obey readily, and without demur ; for here is no difficulty, nor any ground at all for a juſt and reaſonable Scruple. - In ſuch Commiſſions and Orders, as do not leave the Cog- niſance of the Matter to Him, but only decree ſome point of Executive Obedience; as in thoſe particularly, which we commonly call Mandates and Warrants; if they be con- trary to any poſitive Law, which the Sovereign hath power to diſpenſe with, and there be Clauſes of Non-Obſtante for that purpoſe, to ſave the Party harmleſs; he is obliged to obey his Orders without more to do. Becauſe, according to the Civil Conſtitution, and the Laws of the Land, the Sovereign hath a Liberty reſerved to him of Relaxing, , or ſetting aſide the Law in ſuch particular Caſes. And the ha- ving ſuch a Power over all Laws whatſoever, is the very thing in which Abſolute and Unlimited Sovereignty con- ſiſts. In Caſes contrary to Law, and where no ſuch Diſpenſing Clauſe is inſerted; or ſuch as manifeſtly make againſt the Publick Good, (though there ſhould be an Indemnifying Clauſe) or where the Magiſtrate knows his Orders to be ob- tained by Surpriſes or upon falſe Suggeſtions, or by Corrupt Methods; he ought not, in any of theſe three Caſes, to be haſty in the Executing his Orders; but let them lie by a while, and with all Humility Remonſtrate againſt them; And, if Occaſion be, repeat thoſe Remonſtrances a ſecond or a third time; but if the Command be Peremptory, and Unalterable, and repeated as §." ; then he is to sº T 2. aſ 4. f : 612 Of Wiſdom. Book III. 2. far as in Honour and good Conſcience he may, and for the reſt, to excuſe himſelf, as well as he can. In Matters contrary to the Law of God and Nature, he muſt lay down his Office, and be content to quit all; nay, reſolve to ſuffer the worſt that can come, rather than be in- ſtrumental in, or conſenting to them. I cannot ſo much as allow him to deliberate, or once to doubt, in ſuch Circum- ſtances, what he ſhould do; For natural Juſtice cannot be hid; it ſhines clearer and brighter than the Sun; and all Men muſt ſee it, except thoſe only, who wilfully ſhut their Eyes, and wink hard againſt it. All this Advice relates to Things in agitation, and intended or ordered to be done; but, as for thoſe which the Sovereign hath done already, let them be never ſo Wicked and Unrea- ſonable, a Man had better diſſemble the Matter as well as he can, and try to wipe out all Remembrance of it, than Roſe all, by Provoking, and Expoſtulating with a Prince to no purpoſe; as Papinian did. For * it is the very extremity of Madneſs to ſtrive againſt a Stream ; where no ground can be got, nor any thing but Hatred and Disfavour for our 4172J. As for their Duty, when confidered in their other Capa- city, and with regard to the private Subjects under their Government, Magiſtrates muſt always remember, whoſe their Authority is, and from whence they derive it. That this is none of their own proper Right, but meerly a Truſt; That they hold it from and under the Prince; That he hath the Fee, and is the Lord and conſtant Proprietor; but they are Tenants and Stewards at will, put in to Exerciſe this part of his Juriſdiction for ſo long a Term only, as their Commiſſion purports; or during his Pleaſure; and no lon- ger. Now from hence it is very natural and obvious to infer. That a Magiſtrate ought to be eaſie of Acceſs; always ready and at leiſure to hear and receive the Petitions, and Complaints preferred to him. That his Doors ſhould be open to all Comers, and he as ſeldom out of the way as is poſſible; but eſpecially, not ſo, wilfully and by Contri- vance; for he ſhould confider himſelf, as no longer at his own diſpoſal ; but a Servant of the Publick, and devoted * Fruſtra niti, & nihil aliud niſi Odium querere, extremz eff dementia, to Ch. 17. Duty of Great, and of Mean Men & 5. of the Miſerable and Afflićted; for all theſe are very mov- ing and forcible inducements, a great Violence upon Reaſon and Duty; and yet ſo committed, that there is a plauſible appearance of both, in the very Diverſion they labour to give us from both. And the truth is, this firmneſs and inflexible Conſtancy of Mind is the moſt maſterly Virtue, and parti- cular Excellence of a Magiſtrate; that he neither be terrified and ſubdued by Greatneſs and Power, nor melted by Miſe- ries, and deplorable Circumſtances. Theſe are what very brave Men are often tranſported by ; and therefore it is the greater Praiſe to continue Proof againſt them. For, though being ſoftned by the latter have an Air of Good-nature, and is more likely to prevail upon the Better ſort of Men; yet either of the Extreams is ſinful, and both forreign to the merits of the Cauſe, which is the only thing that lies upon the Judge. The Motives to Pity then are very dangerous Temptations; and what a Man in Authority ought as much to ſtop his Ears againſt, as Promiſes or Threatnings; for even that God himſelf, who is Love and Mercy in Perfe- Čtion, hath diſcountenanced this unſeaſonable Compaſſion. And the ſame Legiſlator, who ſaid, Thou ſhalt not receive a Gift to blind thine Eyes therewith, neither ſhalt thou accept the Perſon of the Mighty, found it no leſs neceſſary for the Good of Mankind, and the equal Diſtribution of Juſtice, no leſs agreeable to his own Goodneſs, to add that other Command, Thou ſhalt not favour a Poor Man in his Cauſe. C H A P. XVIII. The Duty of Great, and of Mean Men. THE Duty of Perſons of Honeur and Quality conſiſts principally in theſe two Points. The lending a ſtrong and powerful Aſſiſtance to the Publick; employing their W.H. their Intereſt, their Blood, in the Maintenance and Preſervation of Piety and Juſtice; of the Prince and the Government, and in general, of the common ſafety and advan- tage. For they are the Pillars and Supporters, upon which theſe noble Structures ſtand; and by which they muſt be ſuſtaincd. The other Branch conſiſts in being a mighty Defence and Protection to the Poor and Needy, the Injured and Oppreſſed; by interpofing their Power on the behalf of ſuch, tanding - R r 4 - between - of Wiſdom. Book III, between Them and Ruin, and giving a Check and Diverſion to the Violence of wicked and unreaſonable Men. Perſons of Honour in a State, ſhould be like the Spirits and good Blood in our Bodies, which always run to the wounded, and the ailing part. It was this, that rendered Moſes ſo proper to be made the Captain of the Iſraelitiſh Nation; and the Scripture takes expreſs notice of his Zeal in revenging the injuries of one of his Brethren who ſuffered Wrong, and ſlaying the inſolent A:gyptian; as a Sign, that God had Marked him out for a Deſiverer of his Pepple, . Thus Hercu- les was Deified among the Heathens, for .# a Scourge to the Cruelty of Tyrants, and a Refuge to thoſe that were Oppreſs'd, and opprobriouſly Treated by them. And thoſe other renouned Names in Antiquity, who followed his Ex- ample, have always been looked upon as Heroes, and ſomething more than Men. Particular Honours and diſtin- guiſhing Rewards were heretofore awarded to all ſuch; as to Perſons, who deſerved exceeding well of the Publick; and for an Intimation, That no Character is more glorious, none more attractive of Univerſal Admiration, and profound Reſpect, than that of being a Succour to the Afflićted, and Abuſed; and helping thoſe, who were in no condition of helping themſelves. It is by no means true Greatneſs, to appear formidable to any part of Mankind, except one's Enemies only. The affectation to have others ſtand in Awe, and Dread, and to Tremble before one, is a mean and piti. ful Temper; and, at the ſame time that it renders the Man a Terrour, it renders him an Odium too; a publick Nui- ſance, and a common Enemy. Love in this caſe is more de- firable, than even Adoration could be without it. Such im- perious Men betray a fierce and haughty, a proud and aſ: ſuming Diſpoſition. This is it, which makes them ſo Contumelious and Diſdainful; ſcorning their Inferiours, as if they were no better than the Droſs and Dung of the orld; and not Men of the ſame Nature with their own Great Selves. From hence, by degrees they degenerate into Barbarity and Inſolence; abuſing all beneath them, without the leaſt Pity or Remorſe; enſlaving their Perſons; invading their Properties, and Poſſeſſions; as if Humanity and Ju. ſtice were intended only for the Benefit of them who need it leaſt; and as if they had no right to any thing, who cannot right themſelves. All this is infinitely diſtant from true Greafneſs; and utterly inconſiſtent with Generoſity and a Noble Mind; for theſe never diſpoſe a Man to Cruelty or 4. . . . . . . . . . . " ". . . . . . . Contempt; Ch. 18. Duty of Great, and of Mean Men. 6; 7 Contempt; but are a Safeguard and Defence, and delight in Offices of Courteſie, and Condeſcenſion, of Charity, and Mercy. #. Duty of Mean and Inferiour Perſons towards thoſe that are above them, is likewiſe Two-fold. Firſt, That of Honour and Reſpect; and this, not confined meerly to the outward Behaviour, and the viſible Marks of a Ceremonious diſtance; (which is due upon the account of their Quali and Rank in the World, confidered abſtraćtedly, and by it ſelf. Be they in themſelves what they will in other reſpects, their Virtues or their Vices make no difference in the ë. ) But there is likewiſe an internal Honour, the real Eſteem and Affection of the Heart, which muſt conſtantly attend and put forward the other, if they be deſerving Perſons, and lovers of the publick Good. Honour and Eſteem are there- fore capable of very different Senſes; They are both due to ſuch as are Good, for ſuch indeed are all that are truly Great Men. To thoſe who want this ſubſtantial Character of Quality; we muſt pay the Civilities of the Cap and the Knee; our Bodies may and ought to bow to them, but our Hearts cannot ; for this is done only by paying them our Love and Eſteem. - The other part of this Duty conſiſts in endeavouring to pleaſe, and be in their good Graces, by reſpectful and volun- tary Tenders of our Service. To pleaſe the Great is not the ſmalleſt Praiſe. Creech. - and put- ting * our ſelves under the ſhelter of their Protection. How- ever, if we cannot make them our Friends, we ſhould be ſure to take care that they may not be our Enemies; which Care too muſt be as Prudent, as it is Neceſſary; and rightly tempered with Moderation and Diſcretion. For nothing is more nauſeous, than a Cringing Fawning Coxcomb, and exceſſive Officiouſneſs does more harm than good. He that declines the Diſpleaſure of a great Man, with too ſollicitous a Caution ; or tries to wriggle into his favour by impertinent and unſeaſonable Addreſſes, does not only diſcover his own weakneſs and deſpicable littleneſs of Soul; but he likewiſe miniſters juſt occaſion of Jealoufie and Offence; and ſecretly accuſes his Patron of Cruelty or Injuſtice. And therefore what is done of this kind muſt be unſeen, and by the by. * Principibus yachiſe viris son ultima laus eſt. Horat. º, i He x r --- - O F. FORTITUDE. The Third Cardinal Virtue. - H E two Virtues, which have been inſiſted upon hi- therto, are a Rule to Men, conſidered as Members of Society; and regard their Deportment, and Con- verſation ; their Intereſts and Obligations with O- thers; Theſe two that follow are to govern them within, and for themſelves. They look upon Fortune in her two different Aſpects, Proſperity and Adverſity; which are general Terms for all the good or ill Accidents of humane Life; and the proviſion made againſt them, is to arm the Mind by Fortitude againſt Adverſity, and in Proſperity to balaft, and moderate it by Temperance. Both theſe Virtues might indeed be compre- hended under the general motion of Conſtancy; which is a tight and even firmneſs, or ſteadineſ of Soul, in all man- ner of outward Accidents or Occurrences, ſo that the Man is neither elevated and tranſported upon the account of Proſpe-- rity, nor dejećied and disheartened from any Adverſity that befalls him. -- C H A P. 619 - of Wiſdom. Book III. 62o - -- - 2. Virtus, C. H. A. P. XIX. Of Ferrituae in J 3%. n CQuºsº, (for ſo indeed this Virtue ought to be ca. . rather than Fortitude,) is a right and ſtrong Reſolution, an equal and uniform ſteadineſs of Mind ; by which we are enabled to encounter Danger and Difficulty, and Pain, ſo that the proper Qbjećt, and true Matter, about which this Virtue is converſant, is in general any thing that humane In- firmity is apt to ſtart at, or be terrified by. Thus Seneca 7 deſcribes it, a Quality " that deſpiſes all things in their own mature formidable; that challenges and conquers the cauſe of our Fears, and ſuch as enſlave and ſubdue the native Liberty of the Soul. This is of all other Virtues the Gallanteſt and moſt No- ble, and hath always been held in higheſt Honour and Eſteem. The Excellence whereof, was ſo rightly apprehen- ded by the Latins, that they gave it the Title of Virtue by way of Singularity and Eminence. It is of all others the hardeſt to be attained; the moſt pompous and ſplendid ; and produces the greateſt, and moſt illuſtrious Fruits. Mag- nanimity and Patience, Conſtancy, and invincible Perſeve- rance, and the reſt of that Heroick Catalogue of Godlike Excellencies are all contained under it. For which Reaſon, Men greedy of Fame, have oftentimes not only entertained Calamities gladly, but have even courted, and eagerly ſought out Hardſhips and Dangers, to gain thereby the greater opportunities of exerciſing it, and exerting them- felves. It is an impregnable Bulwark; a compleat Armour tempered and proved : f The Fortification, behind which hu- mane nature lies ſecurely intrenched, and he who hath caſt up this work about him holds out the ſiege of Life, and can never be taken, or diſmantled. - But now, in regard that this Matter is not rightly under- {tood, and many falſe Pretenders to this Wirtue are ſet up, * Timendorum contemptrix, qua terribilia, & ſubjugum li- bertatem noſtram mittentia deſpicit, provocat, frangir. + Munimentum imbecillitatis humanz inexpugnabile, quod qui circumdedit ſibi, ſecurus in håc vita: obſidione perdurat. which I 621. Ch. I 9. Of Fortitude in General. which are not really of the right Line. It may not be amiſs to expatiate a little more upon the true Nature of Forti- rude; and in ſo doing, to diſcover and reject the vulgar Er- rours concerning it. We will therefore obſerve four Condi- tions, which are all of them requiſite to the forming of this Virtue; and if what would . any one of them, That we may be ſure, is counterfeit, and of a Baſtard Race. - As firſt of all, True Courage is univerſal, that is, it makes a brave ſtand againſt every kind of Difficulty and Danger without diſtinétion, and this ſhews us the mighty miſtake of confining this notion of Courage to Military Valour only; That indeed gains Eſteem with the generality of People, * becauſe it makes more Shew and Noiſe in the World, and yet oftentimes there is nothing of ſubſtance or ſolidity at the bottom of it. Now allowing Military Valour all that can poſſibly belong to it, yet at beſt, it is but one part, and that a ſmall one neither; a ſingle Ray of that Glory which the true and entire, the perfect, and univerſal Valour, ſheds round about it. For by this a Man is the ſame thing alone, that he is in Company; the ſame brave Man upon a Bed of Languiſhing and Pain, as in the Field, and heat of Aëtion; and marches up againſt Death with all his Friends and Re- lations looking on, and lamenting his Fate, as he would at the Head of an Army, when animated by the Shouts of thoſe that aſſiſt in the Engagement. This Military and Fighting Couräge, is more peculiar and natural to Brute Beaſts; and among them, we find accordingly, that the Female Sex have it in common with the Males. But in Men it is frequently the effect of Art, rather than any Ten- dency in Nature; kindled by the dread of Captivity and ill uſage; by the evident Neceſſity of doing bravely in their own Defence ; and the certain proſpect of Death or Wounds, Poverty, or Pain, or Puniſhment, if they do other- wiſe. All which have not any influence upon Beaſts; nor do they lie under the leaſt apprehenſion of them. The Cou- rage of Men is a ſort of wiſe Cowardice; and we com- monly ſay, That every Man would be a Coward if he durſt. It is Fear attended with skill to ſhun one Evil by another; and Anger is the Liquor that tempers, the File that ſharpens it; But in Brutes it is genuine and pure, undeſigning and unconſtrained. Men arrive at ſome ſort of Maſtery and Per- fection in it by Cuſtom and long Acquaintance, by Inſtru- ction, Education, and Example; upon which account . tilat s for ſuch, be defective in 622 Of Wiſdom. Book III. 4. that we find it ſometimes among the meaneſt, moſt ignorant, and moſt degenerate ſort of People. A Footman that hath run away from his Maſter, an Apprentice from behind a Counter, a Villain out of a common Gaol, ſhall very often make a good Souldier, ſtand a Charge, and do Duty very well; and yet have no ſuch thing as real Fortitude; there is not the leaſt tinéture or ſpark of Virtue, or Philoſophical Bravery in all this Fire. The ſecond neceſſary Ingredient in this noble Compoſition is a full and diſtinct Knowledge of the Difficulty, the Toil, the Danger, that aſſaults us in our Undertaking; and alſo of the Beauty, the Decency, the Juſtice, and the Obliga- tion, of attempting vigorouſly, or conſtantly and patientl enduring, what we are called to at that time. And this diſ- covers the Folly and Miſtake of confounding this Courage (as ſome do) with giddy unthinking Raſhneſs; or elſe with Fool-hardineſs, and a brutal inſenſibility. # It is by no = means (ſays Seneca) an incomfiderate forwardneſ; ; not a fond- : meſs of Danger, nor a deſire of thoſe Accidents, which ſtrike a : Terrour into common Men; Fortitude is provident and careful, - and diligent in her own Defence ; and yet ſhe is extreamly pa- = tient and reſigned under thoſe things, which are (commonly but =falſely) reputed Evils. There cannot poſſibly be any ſuch thing as Virtue, where there is no Knowledge, no Appre- henſion; and a Man cannot with any good Senſe be ſaid to deſpiſe that Danger, which he knows not, and does not rightly underſtand. For at this rate we cannot refuſe the honour of this Virtue to Brutes; who in every part which concerns the Aétion, or the Suffering, do equal, if not ex- ceed the Stouteſt Men; and yield to us in no point, but that of foreſeeing and making a true Eſtimate of our Dan- ger. For Valour diſtinguiſhes it ſelf particularly by going on with our Eyes open, and not running blindfold; and ac- cordingly we find by Experience, that thoſe who undertake boldly, without regarding, or duly weighing what is like to come on't ; commonly flinch and ſneak, and prove errand Daſtards, when they are driven to a puſh. A third Ingredient neceſſary to be taken notice of in the Character of Fortitude, is, That it is a Reſolution and * Non eſt inconſultatemeritas, nec periculorum amor, nec fºrmidabilium appetitio 3 diligentiſſimi in tutelä ſui fortitudo eſt. Et cadem patientiſſima corum quibus falſ, ſpecies malorum eſt. - firmneſs of Wiſdom. Book III. of Valour. But theſe do not often meet with People filly enough to be frightned into ſuch an Opinion; and when the Bully comes to be tryed, a difference is ſoon ſeen, between a Hector and a Hero. Nor are they leſs deceived, who give the Title of Va- lour to ſubtlety and ſtratagem, or to Induſtry and Art; This is too ſacrilegious a Prophanation, to bring in Courage acting ſo mean and ſneaking a part: Theſe are trick and diſguiſe, and would put falſe Stones upon the undiſcerning World for true Jewels. The Lacedæmonians, who bred their Youth to Wreſtling, would not ſuffer Maſters in any of their Cities, that ſo their Warlike Exerciſes, and growing expert in them, might be entirely Nature's Work, and that Art might uſurp no part of the Glory. We count it a bold and brave under- taking to encounter Bears, or Lyons, or wild Boars, who have nothing but their natural Fierceneſs to render them for- midable; but the ſame Commendation is not reckoned due to one, that engages with Bees or Waſps, who watch their advantage, and go cunningly to work. Alexander would never play at the Olympick Games; for the Strife, he ſaid, was not well contrived, where a private Man of no Soul might come off with applauſe, and a King with a great one might be thrown out with Diſgrace. There is no manner of reaſon, why a Man of Honour ſhould value himſelf, or offer to put his Valour upon a Proof, which the errandeſt Coward in the World, if he be better taught, and dextrous at his Weapon, ſhall be able to baffle him in. For ſuch a Conqueſt is in no degree owing to Courage, or true Virtue; but to activity of Body, and ſome particular motions, which are purely the effect of Artifice and Addreſs; ſuch as the baſeſt and moſt timorous may excel in, and ſuch as a truly valiant Perſon, , may either not know how to perform, or may think it beneath him to deſcend to them. Fencing particularly is ſuch an advantage, The Braveſt may be utter- ly unskilful in it, and the moſt deſpicable Wretches may be Maſters of it. And how many Scoundrels do we ſee in eve- ry Street, ready to draw upon all occaſions; how many Cheats that play Prizes, and Hack one another for Money; who would not ſtand one Charge at the approach of an Ene- my P. The ſame may be ſaid of that aſſurance and preſence of Mind, which proceeds from habitual Exerciſe, and º Cuſtom. How many hazardous things do Tumblers, an Rope-dancers, and Seamen do, without the leaſt concern ? Not that theſe Men are really more valiant than visiº Of -- afé Ch. 19. Of Fortitude in General. 625 º dare venture farther into Danger; but becauſe this is their own way, what they have been bred up in, and accuſtomed to from Children; and Practice hath worn out thoſe Appre- henſions, which a Gallanter Man would have, who is raw and unexperienced in the Trade. - One very wrong Notion more it is fit I ſhould mention upon this occaſion; That, I mean, which, for want of ob- ſerving nicely the Springs by which Men are moved, and the true ſourſe of each, Aëtion, does very abſurdly put all that to the account of Bravery and Courage, which is in truth a Weakneſs, and owing merely to Heat of Paſſion, or a Zealous Concern for ſome particular Intereſt. For, as a Man cannot deſerve to have his Wertues commended in point of Juſtice, for being faithful and ſerviceable to thoſe he dearly loves; nor in point of Chaſtity, for not abuſing his own Daughter, or his Siſter; nor in point of Liberality, for being bountiful to his Wife and Children; ſo neither may he pretend to any juſt Honour in point of Valour, for ex- ſº. himſelf reſolutely to thoſe dangers, which Anger, or evenge, Intereſt, or private Satisfaction thruſt him upon. If therefore Avarice ſhall make a Man bold, as it does Spies and Traitors, Robbers and Villains, Merchants at Sea, or Souldiers of Fortune, that fight purely for pay; if Ambi- tion and vain Glory, an itch to get the name of a brave Man, kindle the ſpark of Honour as they call it; which may very reaſonably be preſumed to be the caſe of a great many Men of the Sword, (who will hot ſcruple to own ſometimes, that if they could be verily perſwaded they ſhould die in the Attack, nothing ſhould ever bring them on:) If they grow peeviſh and diſcontented, weary of liv- ing, or worn out with pain, like Antigºnus his Souldier, who, whilſt in violent Torment with a Fiſtula, ventured at all, but when the Diſeaſe was Cured, and he in perfect Health again, could never be É. to face an Enemy more, In a word, if there be nothing but ſome particular humour, or ſelfiſh and foreign Confideration at the bottom; how fair ſoever the Exploits, that are built upon this may looks, yet ſtill the foundation hath a flaw, and conſequently, call the thing what elſe you will, but while it is defečtive in ſo very material a part, you muſt not be allowed to call it Valour or Virtue. , - - - - I proceed now to the fourth Qualification of this hoble Excellence, and that is Prudence and Diſcretion in the exe- cutive part, Which being once admitted, ſeveral other falſe - § { r opinions 7. 8. Ch. 19. Of Fortitude in General 627 purſuit. This was an advantage which they had no other way of compaſſing, and the Succeſs anſwered the wiſdom of the Deſign; for they won the Day by this Feint of loſing it. In a word, the moſt warlike Countrys in the World have given it authority, and never thought themſelves diſhonou- red by the Practice. Nay, even the Stoicks after all their impracticable and romantick Stretches of humane nature, are content to allow their wiſe Man, ſo far as looking Pale, and ſhivering at new and ſurpriſing Accidents; provided this be only a bodily Affection, and that it do not enter ſo deep, or laſt ſo long, as to give the Soul any part of the Diſ- order. w And thus much may ſuffice to poſſeſs us with a true Idea of Fortitude, or Courage in general, Of the particular Objeås, and Exerciſe of - Fortitude. >}º: - Nºw that we may cut our Work out, and lay it in due order; it is neceſſary, in the firſt place, that I put my Reader in remembrance, that this Virtue undertakes to deal with all that, (whatever it be) which is called Evil; according to the moſt popular and extenſive ſignification of - the Word. Now this Evil is of two ſorts, either External, or Internal. The former is that which aſſaults us from with- out, and goes by great variety of Names; ſuch as, Adver- ſity, Afflićtions, Injuries, Misfortunes, Caſualties, or unwel- come Accidents. The other ariſes from within, and hath its reſidence in the Soul; but it is excited, and agitated by the Evil from without : Such particularly are thoſe Paſſions, which diſturb and diſcontentius, as Fear, Grief, Anger, and the reſt of that black diſorderly Crew. It will be proper for us to ſpeak to each part of this Diviſion fully and diſtinët- ly; to explain their Operations, to provide Men with pro- per Remedies, and ſufficient means for the ſubduing and oftening, and regulating theſe Grievances. And ſuch are the Arguments and Directions for the Virtue of Fortitude, now under our Conſideration. Conſequently then, what you are to expect upon this Subject will conſiſt of two parts, the one reſpecting the culming * Diſaſtreus Accidents of 2. Oliſ Ch. 20. Of External Evils. 629 than the F. ones, of which we are able to give a di- particular account. They are more ſo, becauſe ftinct an they aſſault us with united force, fall on in Troops, and with greater violence, make a louder noiſe, rage more hor- ribly, have a longer and blacker train of ill Conſequences attending them, are more perplexing and amazing, and cre- are greater Diſorders, and a more general Confuſion. But then, they are leſs ſo too, in regard of their being thus ge- neral ; and for the numbers, which are involved in them together : For when a Diſaſter is common, every Man is apt to think his own ſhare of it the leſs. It is ſome kind of comfort, to think that we are not fingled out for Examples; and for this reaſon, the efficacy of ſuch Corrections is uſual- ly the leſs; for every Man takes Sanctuary in the common- neſs of the Calamity, and imputes it to ſome univerſal diſ- order in Nature, or to ſome unuſual concurrence of natural Cauſes; and ſo ſhelters himſelf in the Crowd by vain pre- tences, which perſonal afflictions leave no room for. And beſides, daily experience ſhews, that the Evils brought upon us by other Men, gall us more ſenſibly, and go nearer to the Quick, and have a greater influence upon our Minds, than any of the former ſort are wont to do. Now all theſe, both of the one, and the other ſort, have ſeveral proper Reme- dies, and Conſiderations to qualifie and render them very ſupportable to us, as particularly theſe that follow. - When we have any publick Calamities to encounter, it will become us very ſeriouſly to reflect whence they come, and by whom they are ſent. That the Cauſe and Author of them is God, an Omnipotent and All-wiſe Providence; whoſe Pleaſure we are ſubject to, and have an abſolute and entire dependence upon ; that he governs and diſpoſes all things, and holds thoſe vain Men in derifion who hope to luft his Bands aſunder, and to caſt away his Co. ds from them ; that we and all the whole Creation are tied by Laws of an invinci- ble neceſſity; and that the ſtrongeſt Combinations, nay the univerſal joynt ſtrength of the whole World, is much too weak to reverſe or reſiſt his Will. ~ Moſt certain it is, that • Providence, and Neceſſity, or Deſtiny, when we ſpeak *ſtrictly and properly, are but one and the ſame thing; There “is no eſſential difference between them, or the laws upon •which they proceed; and all they vary in, is only as to ...thoſe different reſpects, which we are uſed to conſider, and • reaſon upon them in. Now to murmur and repine, and tºr- .ment our ſelves, that Matters are not otherwiſe ordered with ſ 3 us, Ch. 20. of External Evils. 633 = live, if we take exceptions at every trifling thing, every - little freedom that paſſes in Converſation. Another ſort of Directions may be taken from the Perſons 6. at whom we are offended: Let us form to our own minds a general Repreſentation of thoſe we live among, and ſee what their humour, their diſpoſition , and way is. The greater part of Mankind find their chief ſatisfaction in doing ill, and make a Computation of their Power, by the privi- lege it gives them, to be inſolent and injurious to other People. Thoſe who delight in Innocence and Goodneſs are but very few in compariſon: This therefore we ought to reckon upon as a never failing Concluſion, that, which way ſoever we turn our ſelves, we ſhould be ſure to meet with ſome body or other diſpoſed to give us offence: For where- ſoever we meet with Men, it is odds, but we meet with Injuries and Affronts among them. This is ſo ſure, ſo ruled a Caſe, that even Law-givers themſelves, whoſe peculiar buſineſs it is to reform the World, in their meaſures for diſtri- butive and commutative Juſtice, have found a neceſſity of allowing and conniving at ſeveral irregularities, which were never to be prevented. Now this Neceſſity of giving and taking offence ariſes, firſt of all, from the Contrariety, and inconſiſtence of Humours and Inclinations; from hence we are able to account for many offences taken, which were ne- ver intended to be given. Then again from the Coinci- dence, or oppoſition of Men's Intereſts and Affairs, which is the occaſion, that the ſame thing which contributes to the Pleaſure, or Profit, or Happineſs of ſome, tends to the Diſ- ſatisfaction, or Detriment, or Miſchief of others: And ac- cording to all the Ideas we are able to form of the World in its preſent Circumſtances, thus it muſt be, and we cannot diſcern how it ſhould be otherwiſe. If the Perſon who gave ou offence, be a fooliſh, or a raſh, unthinking Man, (and }. to be ſure he is, for a Wiſe and Good Man will be offenſive to no body, why do you complain of a thing done by one who hath not his Wits about him P You bear with a Mad-man, nay, you are ſo far from being angry, that you pity him; you laugh at a Buffoon, or a Child; and I pray how is a Drunken Man or a Fool, a Colerick, or an Indiſ- creet Man, more worth your anger than any of thoſe 2 When ſuch Fellows therefore let looſe their Tongues upon you, the beſt way is to make ng reply: Hold your Tongue, and leave Matters there. It is a brave and noble, yea, and a Cruel Revenge too, which we take upon a Fool, in * * * * . . . . . A * - - - diſregarding Ch.21. Of External Evils with regard,&c. 637 l • ordinances of God and nature, and ought to ſatisfie us, that *how odd ſoever they may appear with regard to that little ~ſpot of ground which is commanded by our own Eye, yet -they do great and ſignal ſervice to the whole. For would we extend our proſpect, we ſhould quickly diſcern that what is loſt in one place is gained in another, or rather indeed to ſpeak more properly, that nothing is loſt any where, but all conduces to the juſt variety and convenience of the World in general. * A Wiſe Man, ſays one, will take no- thing amiſ; that happens to him; for he will obſerve, that thoſe very things by which his particular Intereſts ſeem to ſuffer, are expedient,and greatly contribute to the preſervation of the whole; and that theſe are the methods by which the courſe of the World is continued, and every part of it brought to its juſt and ne- ceſſary perfection. - The particular and perſonal effects of theſe evils are dif- z. ferent, according to the various tempers and conditions of the Men to whom they happen. To the good they are an exerciſe and trial to thoſe that are fallen, a relief and reco- very, a warning and call to them that go aſtray; and to the obſtinately wicked, a diſpenſation of Puniſhment and Ven- geance. Of each of theſe uſes I ſhall ſay but one word or two very bricfly. And firſt, theſe external evils provide the good Men ex- cellent opportunities of exerting and improving their Vir- tue, which would otherwiſe want matter to work upon, and lie idle and undiſcerned. A good Man under affliction, is in the ſame circumſtances with Fencers in their Schools, or Mariners in a Storm, or Soldiers in an Aćtion, or Philo- ſophers in their Academy; that is, he is upon his proper duty, attending the buſineſs of his profeſſion, and ſhewing his skill in it; for theſe are the very methods that . and en- ter, and form, and finiſh him in Virtue, that eſtabliſh him in Conſtancy and Courage, and enable him to conquer and tri- umph over Fortune and the World: They bring him ac- quainted with himſelf, make him know his own ſtrength by frequent experiments, tell him what he may depend up- on, and promiſe himſelf from it; nor do they only give him a true repreſentation of his paſt and preſent condition, but * Vir ſapiens nihil indignerur fibi accidere, ſciatgue illaipſ, quibus ladi viderur ad conſervationem univerſi pertinere, & ex his eſſe quæ curſum mundi officiumque conſummant. - they Ch. 22. Of Sickneſs and Pain, 633 wiſe and kind being, in whoſe diſpoſal all theſe things are, and who diſtributes them according to his own good plea- ſure, and as they may be moſt ſuitable to every Man's occa- ſions. A D V E R T I S E M E N 7. Of External Evils, conſidered in themſelves particularly. Ll theſe Evils which are many in number, and various in their kinds, are ſo many privations of ſome contrary good; for fo much indeed is implyed in the very name and nature of evil: Conſequently the general heads of evil muſt anſwer and be equal to the ſeveral heads or ſpecies of good. Now theſe may very properly be reduced to ſeven. Sickneſ; and Pain, (for theſe be- ing Bodily indiſpºſitions, I join them together as one) Captivity, Baniſhment, Want, Diſgrace, Loſs of Friends, and Death. The good things we are deprived of in the forementioned Cir- cumſtances every one ſees very plainly to be Health, Liberty; our Native Countrey, Wealth, Honour, Friends, and Life; each of which we have had occaſion to treat of at large in the foregoing parts ºf this Treatiſe. All therefore that remains to be done at preſent is to preſcribe ſuch Antidotes againſt theſe as are proper to them reſpectively; and that very briefly and plain- dy, without any nice or formal Reaſoning upon the Caſe. - C H. A. P. XXII. Of Sickneſ, and Pain. IT hath been obſerved in the beginning of this Treatiſe, that Pain is the greateſt, and in good truth the only evil attending this Mortal Body of ours; the moſt ſenſible, the moſt inſupportable, that which is leaſt to be cured, leaſt to be dealt with or aſſwaged by conſideration. But ſtill, though this be not altogether ſo capable of advice as moſt other af- flićtions; yet ſome Remedies there are drawn from Reaſon, Juſtice, advantage and uſefulneſs, imitation and reſemblance of great perſons celebrated for their illuſtrious Virtue, : that Book I. Chap, 6. Ch. 22. Of Sickneſs and Pain, 641. - -- trary they furniſh matter, and put occaſions in our way for a more noble exerciſing of Virtue than any that we owe to Eaſe and perfect Health: And ſurely where there is more occaſion of praiſe and Virtue there cannot be leſs good. If the Body be what the Philoſophers uſually call the inſtru- ment of the mind, why ſhould any one complain, for this inſtrument being applied to its proper uſe and worn out in the ſervice of its proper maſter P The Body was made on §. to ſerve the Soul, but if every inconvenience which falls the Body ſhall diſorder and afflićt the mind, the or- der of nature is quite inverted, and the Soul from thenceforth becomes a ſervant to the Body. Would you not think that man unreaſonably querulous and childiſh, who ſhould cry and roar and take on heavily becauſe ſome thorn in the hedge, as he paſſed by, or ſome unwary paſſenger had ſpoiled or torn his Clothes P. A poor broker, who was to make Money of the Suit, might be allowed ſome concern upon ſuch an occaſion ; but a Gentleman and one of ſubſtance and con- dition would make a jeſt of it, and not eſteem it worth a thought, when ſo trivial a loſs was compared with the abun- dance he had left. Now this Body of ours is no other than a garment, borrowed for a little while that our Soul may make its appearance, and act a ſhort part in it, upon the ſtage of this lower World: But the Soul in the mean while is that which commands our value and regard; and our great affair is to ſecure the honour and quiet of this better part, while ſojourning in this buſie and tumultuous life. And what do we think may be the true reaſon why Pain provokes us to ſo great impatience P What indeed, but that we place our happineſs upon wrong objects, and do not ſet up our reſt, nor ſeek our ſatisfactions in the Soul. *Men grow into coldneſs, and negligence of this part, and grow too familiar and fond of the Body. And Pain, as if it were ſenſible of this folly of ours, plies us hard in our tendereſt part, eſpecially when a Man ſhivers and trembles at its ap- proach, as if it took a pride to inſult over ſuch unreaſonable fear and concern. The advantages however of this ſo much dreaded miſery are conſiderable; it helps to wean our affections, and teaches us to work off our reliſh and delight from that which we - *Non affueverunt animo ºffe contenti; simium illis cum cor- pore fuit. - T mºſt Ch. 22. Of Sickneſs and Pain. º notions, which Men of refined thoughts entertain when they are at eaſe, but would ſoon find impracticable if brought to the tryal ; and therefore to obviate this objection, I have reſerved to the laſt place the inſtances and examples of per- ſons whoſe practice hath juſtified the poſſibility and mighty efficacy of all that hath been ſaid here, or is uſually urged in Books upon this occaſion. And theſe, not only of wiſe and extraordinary but of ignorant and common Men; Nay, even Women and Children are frequently mentioned in ſto- ry to have endured both long and acute pains and diſeaſes, and with a mind ſo ſteady and unbroken, that the anguiſh which hath taken away their lives was never able to ſubdue their conſtancy and courage. They have waited the ap- proach of their torments, and encountered them knowingly, and met them gladly, and ſupported themſelves under them with marvellous chearfulneſs; nay, have even ſought and courted the ſevereſt and moſt exquiſite tortures humane na- ture is capable of ſuffering. The Lacedæmonian Boys are notorious for whipping one another, till, ſometimes they ex- pired under the ſcourge, and all this without the leaſt change of Countenance. A ſort of barbarous diſcipline, inſtituted to harden them, that they might be better qualified to do their Countrey ſervice when thus inured to ſuffering. Alex- ander's Page was burnt to the very Bone with a Coal, and endured it without the leaſt complaint, rather than he would interrupt the Sacrifice. A Spartan Boy let his Bowels be eat out by a Fox, rather than he would diſcover his Theft. Pompey, when taken by King. Gentius, who would have compelled him to reveal the ſecrets of the Roman ſtate, thruſt his finger into the Fire, and burnt it till Gentius could bear the fight no longer, to convince him, that all Torture would be loſt upon him. The Caſe of Mutius with Porſen- na was another inſtance of the ſame kind; and good old Regulus endured more than all of them from the Carthagi- nians. The account of Anaxarchus hath ſcarce any Parallel; who, when pounded in a Mortar at the Command of a Ty- rant, cried out, Beat on, beat on your Belly-full, you cannot touch Anaxarchus his ſelf, you only bruiſe the Shell of him. " “But that which is a remedy indeed, is one peculiar to “Chriſtians, the ſure proſpect of a future and eternal ſtate; “ the conſideration what cruelty and contradićtion of fin- “ners their Saviour condeſcended to ſuffer; and that parti- “cipation of glory and bliſs with him in Heaven, which is $: ordained and reſerved for thoſe who ſuffer with and for •- T 2. him : 644 of Wiſdom. Book III. Heb. 12. I 1. 2. Cor. 5.1. “ him : that is, after his example in a good cauſe, and for “ the ſake of Faith and a good Conſcience. Theſe reflecti- “ons will animate Men, not by rendring them inſenſible or “ taking ſanctuary in nice and airy diſtinctions, but by fur- “niſhing arguments ſuperiour to the quickeſt and tendereſt “ſenſe of Pain. And accordingly we ſee what incredible ef- “fects theſe Religious comforts had in all the Primitive * Perſecutions ; how triumphant they were in the midſt of “Racks and Fires and Croſſes. The having reſpeši to the “recompence of Reward, The balancing the light Affliğions “of a moment with the Eternal and far more exceeding weight “ of Glory; the committing this Body to the Ground, like “ſeed for a plentiful and joyful harveſt at the general Re- “ſurrcétion ; the confidence in the promiſes of him who “cannot lye. Theſe inſpired the noble Army of Martyrs; “ and theſe are able to ſupport all their followers, who have “a title to the ſame expectations, and are heirs through hope “to the ſame Kingdom. And all the Stoical Philoſophy put “together, cannnot miniſter the hundredth part of that “Conſolation, which thoſe two ſhort Sentences of S. Paul do, “No chaſtening for the preſent ſeemeth to be joyous but grie- “vous ; Nevertheleſ, afterward it yieldeth the peaceable fruit “of Righteouſneſs unto them which are exerciſed thereby; And, “We know that if our earthly houſe of this Tabernacle be diſt “ſolved, we have a building of God, a houſe not made with “hands, eternal in the Heavens. C H A P. XXIII. Of Captivity or Impriſonment. THis Afflićtion is very inconfiderable in compariſon of the former, and the conqueſt of it will prove exceeding eaſie to them, upon whom the preſcriptions againſt Sickneſs and Pain have found their defired effect. For Men in thoſe cir- cumſtances have the addition of this misfortune, confined to their houſes, their Beds, ticd to a Rack and loaded with fet- ters ; and this very confinement is a part of their complaint, though the leaſt part. But however we will ſay one word or two of it. - Now what is it that Captivity or Confinement impriſons? The Body, that which is it ſelf the cover and the Priſon of - * - the Ch. 23. Of Captivity or Impriſonment. 645 * the Soul; but the Mind continues at large and at its own diſpoſal, in deſpight of all the World : How can it indeed be ſenſible of any inconvenience from a Priſon, ſince even there it ranges abroad as freely, as gaily, takes as noble, as ſub- lime, as diſtant flights, if not much more ſo, than it does in other circumſtances? The Locks and Bars, and Walls of a Priſon are much too remote to have any power of faſtening it down or ſhutting it in ; they muſt needs be ſo, fince even the Body it ſelf which touches upon, is linked to, and hangs like a Clog faſtened to it, is not able to keep it down, or fix it to any determinate place. And that Man will make a jeſt of all theſe artificial and wretched , theſe ſlight and childiſh encloſures, who hath learnt how to preſerve his na- tive liberty and to uſe the privilege and prerogative of his condition, which is, to be confined no where; no, not e- ven in this World. Thus Tertullian derides the cruelty of , the Perſecutors, and animates his Brethlen by telling that a * Chriſtian even when out of Priſon had ſhaken hands with the World,that he defied and was above it; and that when under Con- finement, the caſe was the ſame with his Gaol too. What mighty matter is it in what part of the World you are, whoſe principle it is not to be of the World P Let us change that name of ſo ill a ſound, and inſtead of a Priſon call it a retreat; where when you are ſhut up the fleſh may be kept to a narrow room, but all doors are open to the Spirit, all places free to the Mind; this car- ries theyhole Man along with it, and leads him abroad whither- fever it will. - Priſons have given very kind entertainment to ſeveral va- luable, and holy, and great Men; to ſome, a Gaol hath been a refuge from deſtruction, and the Walls of it ſo many for- - tifications and entrenchments againſt that ruine which had certainly been the conſequence of liberty; nay, ſome have choſen theſe places that there they might enjoy a more per- fect liberty, and be farther from the noiſe and clutter and confuſion of the World. He that is under Lock and Key is ſo much ſafer and better guarded : And a Man had better live thus, than be crampt and conſtrained by thoſe Fetters * Chriſtianus,etiam extra carcerem,ſzculo renunciavit, in Car- cere etiam carceri; nihil intereſt ubi fitis in ſeculo, qui extra ſax culum eſtis. Auferamus Carceris nomen, ſeceſium vöcemus, elfi corpus includitur, caro detinerur,0mnia Spiritui patent; torum ho- minem animus circumfert, & quo vult transfert. T 3 and 646 of Wiſdom. Book III. ſal. I 13. and hand-cuffs which the World is full of ; ſuch as the pla- ces of publick buſineſs, and concourſe, the Palaces of Prin- ces, the converſation of great Men, the tumult and hurry of Trade, the vexation and º: of Law-ſuits, the envy and ill-nature, the peeviſhneſs and paſſions of common Men, will be continually clapping upon us. *If we do but refle&# (ſays the ſame Author again) that the World it ſelf is no het- ter than a Priſon, we ſhall imagine our ſelves rather let out of a Gaol than put into one. The darkneſs by which the World blinds Men's minds, is thicker and groſſer, the chains by which it clogs and binds their affetiions heavier; the filth and ſtanch of Men's lewdneſ; and beaſily converſition more offenſive, and the Criminals in it more numerous, for ſuch in truth are all Mankind. There have been ſeveral inſtances of perſons, who, by the benefit of a Priſon, have been preſerved from the malice of their enemies, and eſcaped great miſeries and dangers. Some have made it a ſtudious retirement, compo-. fed Books there, or laid a foundation of great vertue and much learning, ſo that the uneaſineſs of the fleſh hath been a gain to the ſpirit, and the confinement of the body was well laid out in a purchaſe ſo valuable as the enlargement of the mind. Some have been diſgorged as it were by a Pri- fon, thrown up when it could keep them no longer, and the next ſtep they made hath been into ſome very eminent dig- nity, as high as this World could ſet them; this remark the Pſalmiſt hath left us of the wonderful diſpenſations of providence : He taketh the ſimple out of the duſt, and lifteth the needy off from the dunghill, That he may ſet him with Prin- ces, even with the Princes of his people. And he indeed who was an Iſraelite might well make this reflection, ſince even among his own Anceſtors they had ſo eminent an inſtance as 3 oſeph, of the mighty alteration we are now ſpeaking of. But others have been advanced yet higher, exhaled as it were and drawn up into Heaven from thence. But thus’ much is certain, that there can be no ſuch thing as perpe- tual Impriſonment; general Gaol-deliveries are iº; * Si recogitemus ipſum magismundum carcerem effe, exiſſe nos e carcere, quam in carcerem introiſſe intelligemus. Majores tenebras habet mundus, quae hominum praecordia excrcant, graviores catenas induir, qua: ipſas animas conſtringunt, pejores immunditias expirant libidines hominum, plures poſtremo reos coatinet, univerſum genus hominum, - - - * . . . . ... . . . . eſtabliſhed, J Ch. 24. Of Exile, or Baniſhment. 647 eſtabliſhed, an Article of the Law of Nature; for no Priſon ever yet took in a Man, whom it did not ſhortly after let out again. C H A P. XXIV. Of Exile, or Baniſhment. Exile is in reality no more than changing our Dwelling, and this hath nothing of ſubſtantial Evil in it. If we are afflićted upon the account, our grievance is not owing to * A * what we complain of, but to our own humour and imagina- tion. ... If we will go to the Reaſon of the thing, all places are alike, and a Man's All is every where equally: For two words indeed comprehend the whole of what a Wiſe Man values, and thoſe two are Nature and Virtue. The ſame Nature is common to all Countries, the ſame Sky, the ſame Elements. The ſame Sun ſhines, the ſame Stars riſe and ſet, and their Motion, their Extent, the Pro- rtion they appear in, the ſame. And ſure, if any part of $. be to be valued, that above us is much more worthy of Confideration and Eſteem, than this Sediment and groſs, and drofly part, which we tread under our feet. The far- theſt proſpect of the Earth which we can take, does not amount to more than Ten or Twelve Leagues: So that a Soul, which ſettles its Affections upon this part, ſhuts it ſelf up in a very narrow compaſs. But the Face of this glorious Firmament, adorned and beautified with ſuch infinite Con- ftellations, which like ſo many grafts of Jewels gliſter over our heads, expands it ſelf; and that it may be more effectu- ally and diſtinctly viewed, the Motion is perpetual and cir- cular, and every part turned towards us; ſo that every point is viſible to every place, within the fingle Revolution of each Day and Night. The Earth, which (taking the Seas, and ambient Atmoſphere into the account, is computed not to be above the hundred and fixtieth part as big as the Sun,) is to Us incomparably leſs ſtill ; for it is not viſible to us in any part, except that little ſpot, that fingle Point upon which we ſtand. But, were it otherwiſe, what does this Change of our ſtanding ſignifie? We think it a hard caſe, to be born in one place, and driven to another. Have we any propriety in the place of our Birth? Our Mothers might - - T t 4 have 648 ( of Wiſdom. Book III. have been delivered in any other place, as well as that where they were; and nothing is more entirely Caſual, than the articular Spot where we firſt drew Breath, for there was in §. the ſame poſſibility of our being born any where 2 Beſides, every Climate produces and carries Men, ſuſtains them with its Fruits, and furniſhes them with all the Neceſ- ſaries of Life; ſo that there is little fear of Periſhing any where. Every Country ſettles us among our Relations too ; for all Mankind are ſo, nearly allied in Blood, and nearer yet in Charity and Affection. Friends too may be found any where, we need only be at the pains to make them, which will ſoon be done, if we are careful to win their Hearts by our Virtue and Wiſdom. Every quarter of the Habitable World is a Wiſe-man's Country, or rather indeed no part of it is his Country. It were an injury and diſpa- ragement to ſuppote him a Stranger any where; and a weak- neſs and littleneſs of Spirit in him to eſteem himſelf ſo. A Man ought to uſe his Privilege, and aſſert his natural Right, which conſiſts in living every where, as if he were at home, and dwelt in his own: In “ looking upon all places, as if he had a propriety in them ; and upon his own Eſtate or native Soil, as if it were in common to all Mankind. But farther, what alteration, what inconvenience can poſ- ſibly come to us, by this changing our Reſidence P Do not we ſtill carry the ſame Soul about with us? And will not our Virtue keep us company where ever we go? What can hinder a Man (ſaid Brutus) from carrying his Excellencies, all he is really and truly worth, into Baniſhment, or Capti- vity ? The Mind and its commendable Qualities are ſubject to no confinement, circumſcribed within no determinate ſpace of ground; but can live, and act, and exert themſelves in all places indifferently. A good Man is a Citizen of the whole World, frank and free, content and cheerful where- wer his Lot caſts him; always at home in his own Quarters; and always fixt and ſettled, however this Caſe or Port- manteau that incloſes and conveys him, may be hurried and jumbled from one place to another. t The holy and immortal Soul is an Obiquetary, of near reſemblance and affinity to God himſelf, and like him diffuſed equally, and ever preſent to all * Omnes terras tanquam ſuas videre, & ſuas tanquam omnium. # Animus ſacer & a ternus ubique eſt, diis cognatus, omni mun- dq & avo par. • “ , ” - - - - - - the Ch. 25.0f Poverty, and Want, and Loſſes. 649 the ſtages of time, and all the diſtances of place. And where- ſoever a Man feels himſelf well, and eaſie, and in full en- joyment, that is his home, call the Country by what name you will. And it is evident, that Eaſe and comfortable En- joyment is not entailed upon particular Cities or Climates; this is what no place can give, he can only depend upon his own mind for it, and that can give it him in any place equally. / How many very ſignificant Men have found cauſe to chooſe and impoſe a voluntary Baniſhment upon themſelves P. How many others, when ſent and driven away, and afterwards invited back again, have refuſed to return into their own Native Country; and been ſo far from thinking their Exile an inſupportable Miſery and Puniſhment, that they have ta- ken great delight and ſatisfaction in it; and reckoned no part of their time ſo well ſpent, or ſo worthy the name of living, as that in which they were debarred their own Country. This was the caſe of ſome generous Romans, Rutilius, and Marcellus in particular; And again, how many do we read of, whom good Fortune hath taken by the hand as it were, and led them abroad, put them in the way of Honour and Preferment in foreign Lands, ſuch as they could have no probable proſpect of ever attaining at home 2 C H A P. XXV. Of Poverty, and Want, and Loſſes. TH; is a very vulgar, and (like the reſt of theirs,) a very filly and poor ſpirited Complaint; for it ſuppoſes the whole, or at leaſt the moſt confiderable part of a Man's Hap- pineſs, to depend upon the advantages of Fortune, and looks upon a low and mean Condition, as a real and fore Evil. But now, to ſhew what that is in truth, we muſt ob- ſerve, that there are two ſorts of Poverty: One is, That Extremity of it, which we properly call Penury, or want of Bread; when thoſe ſupplies are lacking, which are neceſſary to the ſupport of humane Nature. And this is a Calamity, which happens but very ſeldom: For Providence hath been ſo bountiful, and Nature ſo prudent, that there are but a few of theſe abſolutely neceſſary things. The very Frame of our Bodies is a good defence in this caſe, and ſo far from ex- poſing 4. of Wiſdom. Book III. ſ poſing us to a needy Condition, that a little will ſerve the turn, and that little is to be had almoſt every where: Nay, it is to be had in ſuch quantities, as will not only reach to the keeping Life and Soul together, but are a ſufficient Com- petency for moderate and frugal Perſons. If we do not affect to lay it on thick, and ſquander away our Proviſions; if we would take our meaſures from Reaſon and Nature, and be ſatisfied with what theſe deſire, and preſcribe to us; we ſhall ſeldom or never want enough for our purpoſe. But if we will create to our ſelves fantaſtical and imaginary wants, nothing can ever ſatisfie us. * He that lives by Na- ture, ſays Seneca, can never be Poor ; and he that lives by Fancy, can never be Rich ; for the former will gladly take up with a little, but the latter graſps at all, and there is no end of it. A Man that is maſter .#any ſort of Trade, or bred up to any Profeſſion; nay, he that hath neither of theſe ad- vantages, if he have but the uſe of his Hands, is ſafe from theſe Extremities, and will find no juſt reaſon to fear, or to complain of this firſt ſort of Poverty. - - The other ſort conſiſts in the want of thoſe things, which exceed a ſufficient proviſion for the uſes of Nature, and mi- niſter to Pomp and Pleaſure, Delicacy and Superfluity ; what we commonly call a Decency, and this is in truth the thing moſt Men are ſo mightily concerned for ; loſs of rich and ſumptuous Furniture, the not having a Down Bed, and a Table well ſpread, or a ſtately Houſe; ſhut out from the Comforts and the Ornaments of Life. But this, when all is done, is not Want, but Niceneſs; and that is the very Diſ. eaſe we labour under. Now all complaints of this Nature are highly unjuſt, for what they dread as Poverty, is rather to be preferred and wiſhed for: We ſee the Wiſeſt Man that ever lived, was for neither Poverty nor Riches, but only ſuch Food as was a convenient Subſiſtence for him. It is more agreeable to nature, more truly rich, more quiet and ſafe, than all that abundance Mankind are ſo fond of. Firſt, it is more congruous and agreeable to our Condition, becauſe Man came Naked into the World, and he muſt go ſo out; and how can he call any thing his own, which he neither brought along with him, nor can carry away with him P. The Poſſeſſions we pretend to here, are like the Furniture in an l I * Siad naturam vives, nunquam eris pauper ; fi ad opinionem, munquam dives, Exiguum natura deſiderat; opinio immenſum, - - - - Inn 3 º º : | Ch. 25. Of Poverty, and Want, and Loſſes. 65. Inn; ours to uſe while we ſtay, but not to remove when we leave the Houſe: And therefore all we ought to look at is our preſent Accommodation. Secondly, it is more true Riches, for a larger Mannor none can be poſſeſt of. He that hath enough, hath all the World. Godlineſs with Contentment is eat Gain, ſays the Apoſtle, it is ſafer and more quiet: For ere is no Fear to º: no hope of Booty to tempt, no danger of Enemies to fence againſt; Poverty is ſecure in the midſt of Banditi. A little Man, when covered all over tº with his Buckler, is leſs liable to danger, than a bigger and ſtronger, who is in many parts º and cannot bring his whole Body within the compaſs of his Shield; ſuch a condition, as it does not burden and fatigue a Man with great Troubles, ſo neither does it make him capable of great Loſſes. And therefore theſe ſort of People are always more eaſie, and free, and cheerful, for they have not ſo much tö | take care of, nor can they ſuffer ſo much by any ſtorm that ſhall happen to blow. Such a Poverty as this is ſnugg and cloſe, gay, , and jolly, and ſecure; all foul Weather flies over its head; it makes us truly our own Men, maſters of our Lives, without the hurry and noiſe, the ſquabbles and contentions, which are the neceſſary incumbrances of plen- tiful Fortunes, and devour the greateſt part of their Eaſe and Time, who ſtand poſſeſt of them. And what precious things are theſe to be called, the Goods of this World, that are big with ſo many Miſchiefs, ſuch ſubſtantial and vexa- tious Evils, that expoſe us to Injuries, enſlave us to Jea- louſies and Suſpicions; to anxious Fears, and inordinate Deſires; and have ſo many thouſand artifices to trouble and diſquiet us? He that is diſcontented with the loſs of theſe things, is miſerable indeed; becauſe he is deprived of his Poſſeſſions, and underſtanding both ; and ſo does more than double his loſs. The Life of Men in moderate Circum- ſtances is a condition much like that of Coaſters; but that of the rich is like Sailors out at Sea. Theſe are toſt and driven, and cannot make Land though they would never ſo fain; they muſt wait a favourable Gale, and the Current of the Tide to carry them in : The former are always near . and have it in their power to Debark whenever they leaſe. - To all theſe Conſiderations we ſhall do well to add one more; That of Great, and Generous, and juſtly Celebra- ted Perſons, who have deſpiſed ſuch Loſſes, nay, have wel- comed, and improved them to their advantage, and thanked t . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .' Almighty 1 Tim, & Of Wiſdom. Book III. ( Almighty God for them, as ſo many ſignal Bleſſings. Such as Zeno after his Wrack, the Fabricij, Serrani, and the Curij among the Romans. And this is an extraordinary Attainment in Virtue, when a Man can find his account, and diſcern, and ſatisfie himſelf with the wiſdom and kindneſs of Provi- dence, in inſtances which the generality of the World lock upon with the greateſt Horrour and Averſion. . The Gods were heretofore painted Naked, to intimate, that they are above both the Neceſſities and Gayeties of this World; and how Godlike a Quality the Philoſophers heretofore eſteemed the deſpiſing of them, we may learn by that voluntary Po- verty, which ſo many of them embraced ; at leaſt, if it ºr was the work of Fate, and not their own Choice, by that eaſie Content and Acquieſcence of Spirit, with which they entertained it. To ſumm up all then in one word, to Perſons of Prudence and unprejudiced Affections, Men of elevated Souls, refined and purged from the droſs of Senſuality and Avarice, this condition of Life will appear preferrable; but to all People, who think at all, it is very tolerable. C H A P. XXVI. Of Infamy, or Diſgrace. THis Afflićtion is of ſeveral ſorts, according to the diffe- rent Senſes, of which the Title here is capable. If by Diſgrace, be meant, the loſs of Honour, or Dig- nity, or offices of Importance and Truſt, the Man is rather a Gainer than otherwiſe, and hath made a very advantageous Exchange. For what are ſuch promotions but ſplendid ſlave- ries, by which a Man hires himſelf out to the Publick, and lays out his Property, and the enjoyment of his Perſon in the Service of other People P Theſe Honours ſhine indeed and gliſter, but with that dazling light they kindle Envy and Jealouſe, burn up the Owner, and at laſt go out in Exile and Poverty. Let a Man but refreſh his memory with the Hiſtorics of all Antiquity, and the moſt memorable paſſages of Great Men; ſee how thick a cloud they ſet in, and whe- ther, almoſt to a Man, thoſe that were moſt renowned for Gallantry and Virtue, did not finiſh their courſe, in Baniſh- ment, or a Priſon; by Poyſon, or ſome other violent Death. See the declining Ariftides, Themiſtocles, Phocion and Socrates - among Ch. 27. Loſs of Friends. among the Greeks; Camillus and Scipio, and Cicero, and Pa- pinian among the Romans; 3eremiah and other Prophets a- mong the 3ews. Inſomuch that a Man may ſay, Calamity and Diſgrace is the very Livery and Mark of diſtinétion of the beſt and braveſt Men; the uſual Reward which the People beſtow upon thoſe that have done them the beſt Service. If this word be interpreted of common Fame and Opi- ºnion, every Wiſe Man ſhould have Spirit enough to deſpiſe That, and never trouble himſelf at all about it. He does but diſparage and degrade himſelf, and betray his want of improvement in the ſtudy of Wiſdom, who is got no higher in this noble Science, than to be concerned at thoſe falſe, raſh Judgments, and ſcandalous Reports, which are made and ſcattered at random; and which neither make a Man the better for their Commendations, nor one whit the worſe for their Cenſure and Reproaches. C H. A. P. XXVII. Loſs of Friends. Y Friends, I underſtand Children, Relations, and all whom Nature or Acquaintance have rendred near and dear to us. And here, firſt of all, we ſhall do well to examine pretty ſtrictly into the true foundation of this Concern; whether the Complaints we utter, the Tears we ſhed, and all the ſor- row and tender Reſentments we pretend, be grounded upon their Intereſt, or our own. I make no queſtion, but every Man will anſwer, that he grieves for their ſakes; but then moſt People muſt give us leave to doubt the Truth of this; and not take it ill, if we be Infidels in the caſe, till ſatisfied by ſome more ſubſtantial Argument, than the meer authority of having their bare word for it. It is but an officious Diſ- ſimulation of tenderneſs and natural Affection, to put on an inconſolable Melancholy, and be eternally lamenting the Misfortunes of our Friends, or the Dangers and Calamities of the Publick; for would we but draw aſide the Curtain, and probe our Souls to the quick, Self would be found at the bottom, and the true cauſe of our Griefs will appear to be that Private Intereſt of our own, which is involved, and interwoven Ch. 28. Remedies againſt Fear. 657 E. that the Perſons who were our Terrour, become our ity or our Scorn; and the Thing, from whence we looked for nothing but Ruin, is the beſt inſtrument and inſurance of our Safety. Nothing is ſo liable to Miſtakes as humane Proſpects: What the Prudence of Man hopes for, diſappoints him; what this fears, vaniſhes, and ſlips from under him, and what it never dreamt of happens to him. Almighty God keeps his Counſels to himſelf; he alone knows what he hath to do: But his Meaſures and Methods are dark and di- ſtant from humane Sight; and this is the occaſion of the many amazing Changes we ſee in the World; that what we Project and Form to our ſelves in one way, God decrees and brings about in another. Let us not make our ſelves un- happy before our time; and it is very likely we may never i. at all: The future, , which cheats ſo great a part of Mankind, may probably cheat us among the reſt, to our ad- vantage. It is a famous Maxim in the practice of Phyſick, that the acuteſt Diſtempers have no Prognoſticks to be de- pended upon : And thus far it holds in our Fortune too, that the more furious and threatning her Symptoms are, the leſs we can form any certain Judgments from them. While there is life, there are hopes, is as good a Rule, as juſt a Comfort, with regard to our Affairs in Diſorder, as it is with reſpect - to our Bodies in Sickneſs. This Fear is not always the effect of Temper and Com- plexion, but very often of Delicacy, and a too tender Edu- cation. For we apprehend many things to be more grievous than really they are, meerly for want of being hardened in our Youth, and accuſtomed betimes to difficult and laborious Undertakings. And upon this account, we ſhould find great benefit in uſing our ſelves a great while before hand, to that which is apt to ſtrike a Terrour into us; repreſenting to our Imaginations the dreadfulleſt Dangers, that we can poſſibly fall into, and growing familiar with them by degrees; making ſome hazardous attemps by way of Gallantry and Tryal, that ſo we may bring our Courage to the touch, be before-hand with miſchance, and wreſt the weapons of For- tune out of her hands. For we ſhall find it much eaſier to reſiſt her, when we are the Aggreſſors, than when ſhe puts upon the Defenſive. At ſuch times, we have the Law in our own hands; can take leiſure to arm as we pleaſe, can ‘make the moſt of every Advantage, and ſecure our Retreat; whereas, when ſhe comes on, and Attacks us, ſhe ſurpriſes, and ſingles us out at pleaſure. We ſhall do very well there- - U u fore * - - 658 . Of Wiſdom, Book III. fore to exerciſe our skill upon her, and, by beginning the Combat unprovoked, practice, and grow perfect in the Art of defending our Poſt: To ſound ſometimes a falſe Alarm, to ſee how we ſhould receive it, if it had been in earneſt, and a real Engagement. To ſet before our Eyes inſtances of aſtoniſhing Dângers, which the greateſt and worthieſt Men have been driven to ; and recollect, that ſome have cſcaped the diſmalleſt that we can imagine, thereby to pre- vent Confuſion and Deſpair; and that others have periſhed under the ſlighteſt and moſt inconſiderable, thereby to a- waken us out of our fooliſh ſecurity, and convince us, that we are no where ſo ſafe, that Confideration and Prudence Thould be laid aſide as unneceſſary. - C. H. A. P. XXIX. Againſt Grief. Gººf hath been formerly delineated, under the Chara: * Čters of the moſt tormenting, moſt prejudicial, and moſt unjuſt paſſion of all others. The greater reaſon to b ſure we have to acquaint our ſelves with proper Remedies againſt it. And theſe are of two kinds, Direct or Oblique. ... I call thoſe Dircét, which we derive from Philoſophy, and the force of Reaſon; ſuch as are employed in facing the ... Calamity, and learning to diſdain and contemn it; per- £wading our ſelves, that theſe External miſadventures are no real Evils, or if there be any thing in them, which may juſtifie ſo harſh a name; yet that they are ſo ſmall and flight, as not to be worth the diſordering our Minds about them; that any notable change in our #. and Mind is thore than the greateſt and moſt grievous of them all ought to ob- tain from us; and that to ſpend our Breath in Complaints, and our Days in Melancholy upon their account, is highly unjuſt and miſ-becoming. (For at this rate the Stoicks, and Peripateticks, and Platoniſts have delivered themſelves upon theſe occaſions.) This method of keeping our ſelves above Grieſ, and every painful Paſſion, is indeed very beautiful and excellent; what challenges, not only our Commendation but our Wonder, becauſe it is tº: Rare, and none but Sºuls of the firſt rate ſeem to be qualifică for the under- taking, l, . - - : There 660 Of Wiſdom. Book III. forms, and yet not ſtart at them. This was a glory reſerved for Socrates, and Flavius condemned by Nero to die by the hand of Niger, and ſome very few beſides. We may there- fore content curſelves very well with diverting our Minds by ſome other Conſiderations, when any croſs Accidents, or other external Calamities aſſault us. The common People ſeem to be ſºnſible of ſome more than ordinary Efficacy in this Preſcription, when, upon all Melancholy occaſions, they adviſe their Friends not to think of that which gives them the Diſorder. And thoſe, who undertake to adviſe or com- fort Perſons in Affliction, will do well to conſider what . Counſel they are capable of following; to infuſe ſome other , thoughts into them, by gentle and inſenſible degrees, ſo looſening and undermining the Object of their trouble, and trying to plant another in its room. For this taking the ground of their Melancholy from under them, before they are well aware of it, will prove a more real Conſolation (in the firſt and furious Paroxyſms eſpecially) than the moſt Philoſophical, or which is yet better, the moſt Chriſtian Harangue in the World. For though every Man may know, and urge pathetically enough, ſuch Arguments as Reaſon tells us, it is fit Melancholy Perſons ſhould ſubmit to ; yet theſe may all be loſt, if the Application be out of time : And therefore it is very neceſſary, that Men ſhould proceed with Judgment, and Tenderneſs; that they ſhould obſerve, both in what manner the Paſſions are to be treated, and when they are fit to be treated with, when they will bear coming up to the point; and when they muſt be pacified by ſome powerful Diverſion. C H A P. XXX. Remedies againſt Compaſſion. Y Reader may poſſibly be ſtartled at this Title, ſuſpect- ing, that it favours too much of Inhumanity; but to abate his Surpriſe, I muſt remind him, that there are two forts of Pity. The one firm, and brave, virtuous and com- mendable, ſuch as we are told Almighty God and the blefied Spirits partake of; and this conſiſts in applying our inclina- tion, and actual Endeavours to relieve the Afflicted, yet ſo as not to take the Affliction upon our ſelves, nor do any thing === - `- -n - • T • - . - Ch. 31. Remedies againſt Anger. thing in diminution of the juſtice of the Cauſe, or the dig- nity of our Character. The other is a womaniſh and ſenſe- leſs Pity; full of Tenderneſs and Concern; which proceeds : from weakneſs and effeminacy of Soul, concerning which I 66 I have ſpoken ſufficiently heretofore, in that part which de- Book I. ſcribed the ſeveral Paſſions. Now, for the conquering and . compoſing this ſecond ſort; Wiſdom directs us to ſuccour the Afflićted, and to eaſe his Burden, but not to put under our own Shoulder ſo far, as to bear the Load with him. . In this Senſe it is, that God is ſaid to be Pitiful; and his Bowels and Yearnings muſt not be interpreted of the ſame uneaſineſſes we feel upon theſe occaſions, but of the ſame hºp. 32. readineſs to do good, and to extend his help, which we find in our ſelves upon feeling thoſe uneaſineſſes. As the Phyſi- cian does all he can for his Patient, and the Counſellor for his Client; but then it ends in diligence and induſtry, and making the moſt of their Caſe; but never goes ſo far, as laying their miſcarriage to heart. The Wiſe Man is deſirous. to aſſwage the Pain, but not content to finart with it; nor to darken and diſorder his Mind with the Vapours of that Melancholy, which he labours to quiet and compoſe. God Commands us to have a regard to the Poor, and to qualifie. their Afflićtions as well as we can ; to plead their Cauſe for them, and to defend their Right; but yet at the ſame time. he charges us to watch over our Paſſions, and take care that we be not balanced even by good Nature and Pity it ſelf, againſt Equity and Juſtice, and the Reſults of true Reaſon. C H A P. XXXI. Remedies againſt Anger. TH: Remedies are many and various, ſuch as the Mind ought to lay in, and be ſtrongly armed and guarded with long before; Like People that expect a Siege ; for it will be too late to begin to fortifie, when the Enemy hath opened his Trenches, and plays his Batteries upon us. They may be reduced to three Heads; The firſt are ſuch as ſecure all the Paſſes, and cut off the approaches and firſt beginnings of this Paſſion. For it is infinitely eaſier to repel, and guard the Avenues againſt it, than either to ſubdue and bring it to . . . U u 3 Rule, 662 of Wiſdom. Book III. Rule, or to beat it out again, when once it hath got within us. We ſhall do well therefore to conſult our ſafety betimes, by delivering our ſelves from all thoſe cauſes and occaſions º Anger, which were heretofore obſerved and explained, when we were º the nature and riſe of this Paſſion. Such in particular as theſe that follow, I. Weakneſs of Judg- ment; 2. Indulgence and Effeminacy ; a Sickneſs of the Soul, which muſt be cured by hardening it againſt any Ac- cident, which can poſfibly happen. 3. Niceneſs, and hu: mourſome Fancies, fondneſs for little Trifles, which muſt be correóted by bringing our Appetites, to plain and eaſie and ſimple things; for this indifferency and fimplicity, of Manners is the Mother of inward Peace and Content. And therefore * let us be prepared and capable of every thing, ſatiſ. fied with what comes next, and eſteeming thoſe conveniences beſt and moſt acceptable, which are neareſt at hand, and will coſt us leaſt trouble. This is the general Rule given by Phi- loſophers; and would be of great uſe, for the croſſing theſe particular humours, gives birth to furious Paſſions and infi- hite Inconveniences. Cotys, upon receiving a very Noble Preſent of Beautiful, but brittle Ware, broke all the Weſſels immediately, to prevent his being angry, whenever they fhould happen to be broken by any other hand. This is what I cannot much extol, by reaſon it plainly ſhewed a diſ- truſt of his own Vertue and Reſolution, and condemned him of Cowardice and Fear. He had therefore done a great deal better, in ſparing that extravagant way of Prevention, and ſettling in his Mind a firm i. not to be moved at fuch an Accident, whenſoever it ſhould happen. . 4. Curio- ſity, which makes us eager and inquiſitive into things which we had much better live in contented Ignorance of Thus Ceſar, when upon his Wićtory, he rook the Letters, and Memorials, and ſeveral other Papers of Conſequence, writ- ten by his Enemies, burnt them without ever examining what they contained. 5. Credulity, and eaſineſs to receive every new Impreſſion. 6. And above all the reſt, a cavilling and captious Humour, jealoufie of other People's Behaviour, and fancying they deſign Injuries and Affronts to us. This fa- deed is very much beneath a Man of Spirit and Generoſity, for how much ſoever it may ſeem to ſavour of Pride, and .* Ad omnia compoſiti final, our boºk aratiora, fint no- b% meliora & gratford, º, q boº. paration, in * Ch. 31. Remedies againſt Anger. 665 r and compoſe our paſſions by his calm advice and wiſe con- yerſation. 4. Another good expedient, when we feel the ftorm gathering, will be to divert and diſperſe it, by ſome- what that is agreeable and entertaining ; and in this caſe no diverſion is better than Muſick to ſmooth and ſweeten the paſſions, and by a kind of Sympathetick power to make perfeót harmony and true concord in the Soul. . . The third parcel conſiſts of ſome good conſiderations, which the Soul ought to be tinétured and throughly ſeaſoned with beforehand. As firſt, a contemplation of the behavi- our and wild diſorderly motions of perſons in paſſion, thoſe indecencies and deformities which may very reaſonably be expected to beget in us a mighty averſion to it. Upon 3. this account ſome of the Philoſopers adviſe angry Men to look in the Glaſs, and to ſatisfie their own ſenſes how hor- ridly theſe exceſſes disfigure them. Secondly, let us alſo fix our eyes and hearts upon the charming, the admirable beauties of meekneſs and moderation. Obſerye, how ex- ceeding graceful and becoming a mild and ſweet temper ſhews, how engaging to others, how beneficial to our ſelves; for this well confidered, would prove a powerful Loadſtone, and attract the affections of all the beholders. This advice is more eſpecially expedient for perſons of quality and high rank, becauſe fortune hath placed them on high, made them more conſpicuous than the reſt of Mankind, and there- fore greater care ſhould be taken to ſet off all their deport- ment with decency and to the beſt advantage : For as their ačtions are of greater and more general concernment, ſo their faults have a more pernicious influence and are leſs to be retrieved than thoſe of common Men. Laſtly, there is the regard we ought to have for Wiſdom and virtue, that ſcience which it is the buſineſs and deſign of this little book to train men up in ; for indeed Philoſophy and Religion ſhew themſelves in no one inſtance ſo much as in the com- mand of our Paſſions, and the preſerving our minds firm and ſteady and impregnable. We ſhould raiſe our Souls u above this earth, and bring them to a temperament and diſ- poſition like that of the upper regions of the air, which is . never darkened by clouds, nor agitated by ſtorms, nor di- ſturbed by thunder, but quiet and ſerene, and always the ſame. Thus neither ſhould this Soul, this Coeleſtial and di- vine part of us be blackned with grief, or diſordered by an- ger, but kept in a gentle and uniform motion, confiderate and ſlow, like the Orbs and Planets, which the higher they -, * > . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . - r - - are 666 of Wiſdom. Book III. 4. are the more ſoftly they move, and are freer from Precipitation, as they approach nearer to purity and perfection. - - Now it is neceſſary to inform my Reader, that all theſe directions are to be underſtood of thoſe inward reſentments and diſorders, which are kept cloſe and cheriſhed in our minds,and thoſe heart-burnings which kindle a long and laſting fire in our breaſts, and break out in uncharitable grudges, bitter hatred and averſion, and furious deſires of revenge. For as to that other ſort of Anger which is outward and vi- fible, that ſhort blaze quickly in and as quickly out again, where there is no malice, no reſentment left behind, and the only deſign of it is to make others ſenſible of their faults, whether our inferiours by chaſtiſements and ſmart reproofs, or thoſe upon the level with us, by expoſtulating with them and ſhewing the injuſtice or indiſcretions they have been guilty of; this is of infinite uſe, highly neceſſary to be put in practice, and exceeding commendable when rightly managed. - * -- * * ~ * * * * - It is much for the advantage both of our ſelves and of thoſe with whom we converſe, to be thus angry upon ſome occaſions, provided always we keep within the bounds of moderation and prudent conduct ; and a little vehemence does well to awaken people into a better ſenſe. There are a ſort of people who value themſelves upon reſtraining ſuch reſentments, and keeping in their tº: as they call it; which though very convenient when we have our ſº to engage with, or ſuch as we have reaſon to be very ten- der of giving any offence to, yet is no good rule for our general behaviour : They who boaſt of it, make indeed large pretenſions to temper and government of their paſſions, and are mighty Philoſophers in their own eyes and eſteem; but yet they frequently burn and fret inwardly, and gain a Conqueſt upon themſelves, which coſts them more than the thing is worth : It were much better to give it vent, and let their reſentments flame out a little now and then, than that they ſhould glow and torment them within. For this covering of our anger incorporates and makes it of a piece with our Souls, and the haſty Man is much rather to be commended when ſoon pacified again, than the fretful and moroſe, the fullen and the filent. If this weapon muſt wound ſomewhere, it were much more adviſable to draw it upon others, and give them a ſlight hurt, than that the Point ſhould be turned back upon our ſelves and ſtab us to the heart, - - - - - . * Ali Ch. 33. Remedies againſt Envy. - .669 jury, he took another courſe of puniſhing him, which was by his ſevere remonſtrances and good inſtructions to render him a vertuous, modeſt, and peaceable Perſon ever after. c H A P. xxxiii. Remedies againſt Envy. IN oppoſition to this fretful and tormenting Paſſion, let us confider and weigh nicely the nature of the thing we ſet ſo high a value upon, and grudge another the fruition of. We are apt to envy our more proſperous Neighbours, their Riches and Honours, their Preferments and the favour of Great Men: But all this is reaſoning without Book, and want of attending to the condition of the purchaſe; : we are not ſenſible how dear theſe things have coſt their owners. Were this rightly underſtood, it is highly proba- ble if they were offered to us upon the ſame terms, we ſhould think it our wiſdom to decline ſtriking the bargain. Flat- - tery and Attendance, Anxiety and Care, Sufferings and In- juries, Affronts and Repulſes, loſs of Liberty, and ungene- rous compliances with the Paſſions and Pleaſures of thoſe - we make our court to ; Violations of Juſtice and contra- dićtion to our own Conſciences, theſe are uſually the price ſuch advantages come at : Thus much however is moſt cer- tain, that there is nothing in this World worth the having which can be had for nothing. To hope for Wealth and Ho- nour, a Plentiful Eſtate, or a ºi Office upon other Terms than they uſually go at, is to deſire that we may be made an exception to the reſt of Mankind ; to repeal an Univerſal Law; or at leaſt to break and pervert a gene- ral Cuſtom received and eſtabliſhed all the World over: It is taking the Commodity and keeping our Money too. Why ſhould you then who ſet up for the Character of Honour and Virtue be diſcontented, becauſe you are not poſſeſt of thoſe advantages which are never to be acquired but by ig- nominious and reproachful methods, and muſt be bought at the expence of Modeſty and Decency P. If this be the caſe, theſe ſplendid appearances call rather for your Pity than your Envy : Either the Object of your Paſſion is a real Good, or it is not ; if it be a fantaſtical and imaginary good only, it is beneath this reſentment, nay it is inconſiſtent with - : " : " ' " it. w 67o w of Wiſłom. Book III. it. For no Man is envious upon a ſuppoſition of a treacher. ous and deceitful outſide, but upon an implication of ſub- ſtantial and intrinſick worth : But if it have this, and be a real and ſolid good, then ought it to be matter of Joy and Pleaſure. For the Laws of Humanity, and thoſe of Chriſti- anity much more oblige us to deſire, and take delight in one another's Happineſs; and the exerciſe of this Virtue with regard to other peoples ſatisfaction and good Fortune would be a very conſiderable addition to our own. c H A P. XXXIV. Remedies againſt Revenge. Fo: the beating down this cruel paſſion, ſeveral Confl- derations may be of uſe to us; as firſt of all, That there is riot any action of our Lives ſo truly honourable and glorious as that of pardoning and paſſing by injuries and affronts, nor any attaintment which requires greater skill than this to mafter and excuſe it readily and gracefully. Eve- ry body knows but too well how to proſecute Wrongs and demand Satisfaction; but the remitting and receiving thoſe Princes, and truly great Souls: If then thou wilt prove thy Soveraignty, ſhew that thou art King of thy ſelf, and do a truly royal act by forgiving freely, and extending thy kind- neſs to thoſe that have moſt juſtly merited thy diſpleaſure. Secondly, Remember that this is of all others the nobleſt Conqueſt, to convince the World that thou art impregnable, and above the reach or reſentment of injuries and Affronts. For by this means they all rebound back again upon the head of the Author ; and like blows upon Anvils when they make no impreſſion, only benumb and put the party Aſo pain, wi o laid about him with ſuch impotent malice and fury. To continue Revenge, is to give our Enemy the ſa- tisfaction of knowing that he hath hurt us; and he that com- ‘plains decli tres himſelf worſted in the Controverfie. So ſay , the Moral iſt; * He that is impatient for ſatisfaëtion, at- survat Injº rid, Ingens animus & verus zſtimator ſui nonvindicat injurism, 4 Jula non ſentit, - knºwledget ... * Ulltio doloris confeſſio eſt; non eſt magnus animus, quehn in- that have done them into grace again, is a Glory reſerved for : Of Wiſdom. Book III. rity: But when any Thunder is to be diſcharged upon wick- ed Mén, and thoſe Bolts are let fly, which carry Devaſtation and Ruin, and any ſort of miſchievous Effects; This he hath no right to do of his own head, nor without the advice and aſſiſtance of twelve Gods met in Counſel. This was a very ſignificant Thought, and ſhewed the importance of the Occaſion; That even the Supreme of all the Heavenly Powers, who had unlimited Commiſſion to do good to all the World of his own head, ſhould yet have it reſtrained, and his hands tied up from hurting; ſo much as one ſingle Perſon, till the matter and merits of the Cauſe had been ſo- lemnly debated. But the Reaſon couched at the bottom, deſerves our attention: Kindneſs and Beneficence there can be no danger in, no miſtakes, no exceſſes of this kind are pernicious; But when Revenge and Puniſhment come under Deliberation, this is ſo nice a point, that even the wiſdom of 3upiter himſelf was not ſecure from all poſſibility of Errour; and therefore an aſſembly of diſ-intereſted Perſons was requi- ſite to direct and moderate his Anger. - And this Moderation and Temper is what every Man ſhould make it his Buſineſs to acquire, and be well fixed in: Which with reſpect to the caſe now before us, is but another name for Clemency. For by that I mean, ſuch a mildneſs and ſweetneſs of Spirit; ſuch an inclination to forgive and be kind, as curbs and holds in the violent Careers of Paſſion; and makes us move coolly and regularly. This will arm us with Patience, will convince us that we cannot be injured in reality, except from our own ſelves; and that for the wrongs others maliciouſly intend us, ſo much and no more will ſtick, as we faſten and bind upon our ſelves by reſenting the Pro- vocation. This will ſecure us the good will, and affections of all Mankind; and will ſeaſon all our Behaviour with that Modeſty and Decency that cannot fail to render our Conver- º, courteous and agreeable, and univerſally €11ted. C H A P. XXXV. Remedies againſt jealouſe. TH: only method of any Efficacy for avoiding this Paſſion, is to take care to deſerve the advantage we deſire. For Jealouſie is little elſe at the bottom, but the diſtruſt and miſ- giving Ch. 36. Of Temperance in general. 675 ſerved in all manner of things whatſoever. In this compre- henſive Interpretation, it does not denote any one Virtue in particular, but the Complex of them all in common; and is that quality, which ſeaſons and gives a reliſh to good ačtions of every ſort. . In this Latitude we are under perpetual obli- gations to it, but chiefly ſo, in thoſe matters, that admit of Controverfie; and engage us in Differences and Diſputes. For the due obſervance of it thus underſtood, there needs but this ſingle Direction, of laying aſide all perſonal and felf-ended Conſiderations, and make it our entire buſineſs to ſtick cloſe to our Duty. For all lawful and commendable Affections are temperate; Hatred, and Anger, and Cruelty, are exceſſes much beyond the limits of Juſtice and Duty; and are only ſecond-hand Remedies, neceſſary to be uſed up- on them, who refuſe to be kept to their Duty by the power of Reaſon, and the ſofter arts of Perſwaſion. But when this Term is uſed in a more reſtrained Signifi- cation, then it imports a check and regulation of things plea- ſant and delightful to Senſe; and ſuch as our natural and carnal Appetites eagerly long after, and are gratified by. At preſent we extend it a little farther, for the Rule and Meaſure of a Man's Duty in all kinds of Proſperity, as For- titude was ſaid to be in every ſort of Adverſity: So that Temperance ſupplies the place of a Bridle, and Fortitude that of a Spur; this checks our Career of Gayety, that uickened our ſluggiſh Fears, and rouzed us out of Deſpon- i. With theſe two in Conjunction, we are able to manage that brutal, and reſtiff, and wild part of us, which conſiſts of the Paſſions; and ſhall not fail to demean our ſelves well and wiſely, in every condition, and change of Fortune: Which is in truth the very ſumm and ſubſtance of Wiſdom, and the very perfection I deſire my Reader ſhould aſpire to. The general Object then of Temperance, is all manner of Proſperity; everything that is pleaſurable and gay, but eſpe- cially and more peculiarly Pleaſure, which this Virtue re- gulates and retrenches. All that part, which is ſuperfluous and unnatural, and vicious, it pares quite away; and that which is natural and neceſſary, it keeps within due meaſures. Thus we find it deſcribed by an Old Author, * Pleaſures are * Voluptatibus imperat, alias odit & abigit, alias diſpenſat, & ad ſanum modum redigit; nec unquam adillas propter illas we- nit; ſcit optimum effe modum cupitorum, non quantum velis, fed quantam debcas. - X x 2. her. 678 of Wiſdom. Book III. 4. ſuch ill uſe of. To all which we may add the ſecret and undiſcernable Reaſons of his Diſpenſations, or, to expreſs the thing in a more ſecular Phraſe, that Inconſtancy of For- tune, which from a fond Mother changes her humour unac- countably to all the Severities of a cruel and curſed Step- mother. Now the propereſt Advice upon this occaſion, is for a Man to reſtrain and moderate his Opinions and Affections of the good things of this World; not to eſteem them too highly, nor imagine himſelf one whit the better or the worſe Man, for the Enjoyment or the Want of them; and the natural Conſequence of this ſo low Valuation will be, not to deſire them with any degree of vehemence. If they fall to his Lot, to accept them as the Gift of a bountiful Maſter; and to ſerve him with them thankfully and cheerfully; but always to look upon theſe, as foreign and additional Advantages; no neceſſary, no inſeparable part of Life: Such as he might have been very well without, and ſuch, as, while he hath them, are not to be made any great account of, or ſuffered to change the temper of his Mind, either higher or lower. For, * What Fortune hath made yours, is none of yours. He that will live ſafe and eaſie, muſt decline thoſe treacherous Baits, thoſe Limed twigs of Fortune. For what hath ſhe in her diſpoſal, worth engaging our deſires, or fixing our Heart and Hopes upon 2 - - - - - C H A P. XXXVIII. of Pleaſure, and Direáions concerning it. B. Pleaſure I underſtand a Perception, or Senſation of that * which is agreeable to Nature; a delightful Motion or tickling of the Senſes; as, on the contrary, by Pain is meant ſome diſagreeable Senſation, which produces Sorrow, and is grievous to Nature. But thoſe Philoſophers, (as the Sect of the Epicureans in particular,) who reſolved the chief Hap- pineſs of Man into Pleaſure, and paid it greater Honour than we think fit to do, took it in another Signification, and * Non eſt.tuum fortuna quod fecit tuum. Quitutam vitam Agere yolet iſ a viſcata beneficia devitet, nil dignum putare quod fºrth Quid digpum habet Fortuna, quod concupiſcas? # Ch. 38. Of Pleaſure, and Direáions, &c. 679 extended the thing no farther than a privation of Grief or Uneaſineſs, ſuch as they thought fit to expreſs by Indolence. According to their notion, humane Nature was capable of riſing no higher, than the not being uneaſie. This is a ſort of middle State, a Neutrality between the firſt and vulgar acceptation of the Word, and Pain: And bears the ſame Proportion, with regard to this Life, which ſome Divines have thought Abraham's Boſom does to the next; A Condi- tion between the exquiſite Happineſs of Heaven, and the extreme Torments of Hell. "Tis a ſweet and peaceable ſe- dateneſs of Body and Mind; an uniform, conſtant, and fix- ed Pleaſure; which carries ſome reſemblance to that Euthy- mia, or tranquility of Soul, which other Philoſophers e- ſteemed our chief Good: Whereas the other is an active and ſenſible Pleaſure, full of vigorous, and ſprightly motion. At this rate, there would be three diſtinét Conditions, of which Mankind are capable; two in extremes, Pleaſure and Pain; which are neither ſtable nor durable, but both of them ſickly, and in exceſs; the Mean between them firm, and ſound, healthful and permanent; to which the Epicureans attributed the name of Pleaſure, (and ſuch indeed it is, when compared with Pain) and placed the ſupreme happineſs of our Nature in it. This unhappy Name brought that general ſcandal upon their Seół, which the oppoſite Parties of Phi- loſophers inſult over with ſo much Pomp and Triumph. For after all, (as Seneca with great Ingenuity confeſſes,) there was no hurt but in the Name; no offence, but what was meerly Titular; for to thoſe who will be at the pains of a nice Examination into their Lives and Manners, it will appear, that none ever advanced Doctrines of ſtricter Sobriety, none were greater Enemies to Vice and all manner of Debau- chery, none more diſtant from thoſe Reproaches to a rational Soul, than the Men of this Profeſſion. Nor indeed was it without a fair appearance of Reaſon, that they gave this name of Pleaſure to that ſo much exalted Indolence of theirs. For this Titillation of the Senſe comes at laſt to this, and ſeems to make it the ultimate end and aim of all the more feeling ſatisfactions we find in it; as for inſtance, the delight we find in Meats and Drinks, pretends to nothing more, than to deliver us from that torture and thoſe eager cravings, which Hunger and Thirſt had brought upon us; and, by ſatisfying the Appetite, to place us in a Condition of Eaſe and Repoſe, till the ſame Wants return again upon us. X x 4 The Ch. 38. Of Pleaſure, and Direáions,&c. 681 vinced of its neceſſity, in that all the actions, by which Life is ſuſtained, are ſeaſoned with, and recommended by it. And yet all Philoſophy hath allowed, that the way to live well, is to follow the Dićtates of Nature. God placed Man, du- ring the ſtate of Innocence, in a place and condition richly, furniſhed with vaſt variety of Delights: And the very name given by Moſes to Paradiſe, is in the Hebrew Language Pleaſure: And not only ſo, but, if we raiſe our Eyes and Eden. Thoughts above this World to the higheſt perfection, which Religion bids us aſpire after. What are the felicities of the Saints above, but a laſting, and uninterrupted Series of Pleaſure ? They ſhall be filled with the Pleaſures of thy Houſe, and thou ſhalt give them Drink out of thy Pleaſures, as out of the River, ſays the Pſalmiſt, when he would deſcribe the Satisfactions of the holieſt Men. Theſe, I confeſs, do not mean thoſe groſs and carnal Satisfactions, which this Term is abuſively made to denote ; but it ought not by any means to be confined within that compaſs, as if nothing that is tru- ly generous and great could be intended by it. Theſe things ought to be included, when we ſpeak in vindication of Pleaſure; and the other have no reaſon to be diſdained, when regulated by Equity and Reaſon. And, accordingly we find, that the moſt renowned Philoſophers, and acknowledged patterns of Virtue, ſuch as Xeno, Cato, Scipio, Epaminondai, Plato, and the Immortal Socrates himſelf, did not think it below them to "taſt the Comforts and Diverſions of Life ; nay, deſcended ſo far, as even to Diſcourſe, and write Tracts of thoſe, which ſome now by an affected nicety, pretend to accuſe, (as you have heard,) and would in their mighty, but miſtaken zeal for Virtue, fain baniſh out of the World, under the odious Character of Pleaſures of Senſe. Since therefore Wiſe Men have been ſo much divided in their 4. Opinions upon this Subject, it will be neceſſary for us to proceed cautiouſly; and to diſtinguiſh theſe Pleaſures into their ſeveral ſorts; without which we ſhall never be able to º come to any juſt and true Reſolution of the Caſe ariſing hereupon; nor ſatisfie our ſelves, which are lawful Plea- ſures, or how far any are ſo. Firſt then, we muſt take no- tice, that ſome Pleaſures are natural, and others unnatural; This Diſtinétion being of all the reſt moſt important to our reſent purpoſe, will be conſidered more particularly by and [. Some again are pompous, and ſhowy, nice and diffi- cult; others are filent and ſecret, eaſie and ready at hand. Pleaſure is not ambitious of Splendor and obsº but - - - ... - - - - - - - titcCIIAS | 683 Ch. 38.0f Pleaſure, and Direáions, &c. firſt, we ought to put a very great difference between naru- ral, and unnatural Pleaſures: By the unnatural, I do not , underſtand thoſe only, which are contrary to Nature, and * ſuch uſages as the Laws have eſtabliſhed and approved; but even thoſe which are the moſt natural of all others, are com- prehended under this Title, in caſe they degenerate, and run out into Superfluity and great Exceſſes. For theſe things are not within the Verge of Nature, for She concerns her ſelf no farther, than meerly to ſupply our Neceſſities and real Wants, which (however) we have leave to enlarge a - little, and that we may not complain of ſcanty meaſure, are free to conſult Convenience and common Decency. For Ex- ample, it is a natural Pleaſure, to be ſheltered by a good tight Houſe, and to have our Nakedneſs covered with good warm Cloaths; for theſe ſecure pur Perſons from Wind and ... Weather, and bitter pinching Blaſts; and are ſome defence againſt the attempts of wicked Willains. But now, that thoſe Cloaths ſhould be of Tiſſue or Embroidery, or that Houſe built of Jaſper and Porphyry; this there is no occaſion for, and the ſatisfaction tººk reſult from their being ſuch, is not any natural Pleaſure. Again, they may be un- natural, if they do not come to us in the way, and method of Nature; as, if they are ſought with Anxiety and Indu- ſtry, procured by Artifice, prepared by Medicines, or any other Stratagems of humane device and invention, to create, to heighten, to force, either the Appetite, or the Pleaſure by which it is gratified. So they are likewiſe, when for- med and beaten out originally in the Mind, by the ſtrength of imagination, or the violence of Paſſion, and ſo are after- wards communicated to the Body; which is juſt inverting the order of Nature: For the uſual Courſe is, that Pleaſure ſhould begin in the Body, and from thence paſs on to the Mind. And indeed, as that Laughter, which is forced by Tickling, is not natural nor pleaſant, but rather a con- vulſion and violence upon Nature; ſo that Pleaſure, which is courted, and induſtriouſly contrived, kindled up firſt in the Soul, and from thence deſcending to the Body, is not a - regular and natural Pleaſure. . ..., - - - Now the firſt Rule, which Wiſdom would preſcribe with regard to Pleaſures, is, to condemn, and utterſy abandon all the Unnatural, as Vicious, and Spurious; and to allow and entertain ſuch as are Natural. For, as thoſe who come to a Feaſt without any invitation, ſhould be turned home again; ſo thoſe Pleaſures, that obtrude themſelves upon us, without *** . . . . . . . . . . . . . * - - • 7 . eyen Ch. 38. Of Pleaſure,and Directions,8.c. 685 and guard our ſelves ſtrictly, againſt their deceitful Inſinua- tions: For many of them are bought at too dear a rate, and do us more hurt, than all their ſatisfactions can ever compenſate. They leave a Sting behind, and create laſting Remorſe, and great Diſquiets of Heart: And this is done after a very ſubtle and treacherous manner. They put them- ſelves forward, , and amuſe and cheat us by ſome preſent Gratifications, but hide the Hook that lies under this Bait. They put on the Face of Friends to cover their murde- rous Intentions; careſs and embrace us with a ſeeming ten- der Affection, but hug us ſo cloſe with a deſign to ſtrangle us. Thus the Pleaſures of Intemperance go before the Pains and fick Qualms of it; and thus do the generality of thoſe Delights, which heat of Youth is ſo prone to, and plunges it ſelf ſo unwarily in. Then we venture in over head and ears, but when we are drowned in them, the Infirmities of Old Age ſucceed; and then they forſake us quite, and leave a miſerable Spectacle behind them, as the tide of Ebb does its Nuiſances and Carkaſſes upon the Shore. The delicious Morſels, which were ſwallowed ſo greedily, turn to Gall and Choler upon our oppreſſed Stomachs, and end in Repen- tance, and bitter Reflections. And the Dregs of our foul and polluted Enjoyments ſtick faſt to our Souls, and, by their poyſonous corroding quality, infect and corrupt our Pºiº and ſettle into ill habits, and inveterate Diſ- Ca16S. Now, as Moderation and Regularity in our Pleaſures, is t. a moſt decent and beautiful, a moſt uſeful and profitable thing, agreeable to the Laws of God, the deſign of Nature, and the dićtates of Reaſon: So on the contrary, Extrava- gance and Exceſſes of all ſorts are odious and deformed, hateful to God and Man, and the moſt deſtructive that can be, both to the publick Good, and Men's own private Inte- reſt. Pleaſure unduly taken ſoftens and enervates the Soul, enervates and preys upon the Body, makes Fools of the Wiſe, and Cowards of the Brave. What a lamentable in- ſtance of this was Hannibal, whoſe Courage was more bro- ken by the Luxuries of Capua, than by the rugged Paſſes of the Alpes, or all the Efforts of the Roman Armies P. This gave occaſion for the Lacedæmonians, who denounced open War againſt all manner of Effeminacy, to be called Men; and the Athenians, who were ſoft, and delicate in their way of Living, to be reproached with the Nick-name of Women. When Xerxes undertook to puniſh the City of *for * eWOAC 686 Of Wiſdom. Book III. * Revolt they had made, and to ſecure himſelf #. any danger that might come from that Quarter for the future': The Method he took, was to bring all the Exerciſe of Arms, and other laborious and fatiguing Practices into Diſuſe; and to let looſe all manner of Pleaſures and ſenſual Delights among them, with free Liberty for every Man to revel in theſe without Check or Controul. Secondly, It baniſhes all the braveſt and moſt Heroick Vir- tues from the Mind, where it hath taken poſſeſſion; for theſe are ſerious and ſevere, confiderate and hardy, and cannot be endured by a Maſter of ſo contrary a Temper; nor indeed were it poſſible for them to live under ſo effeminate and diſſo- lute, ſo careleſs and unthinking a Government. Thirdly, It quickly degenerates, and ſinks into its contrary Sentiment, which is Pain and Uneaſineſs, Diſlike and Re- morſe. As the Freſhes run apace to the Sea, and loſe the ſweetneſs of their native Rivers, in Tides of Salt Water. Thus the honey of Pleaſure in the Mouth, upbraids the Eater, and turns to the Gall of Pain upon the Stomach. * All exquiſite Pleaſure ſtands upon a tickliſh point, and all its generous Taſte is upon the turn; ſowrs, and changes, and is '#. up in Pain; the very moment it riſes to exceſſive 3oy, Grief dwells upon the confines, and one ſtep beyond its own bound, brings you into this troubleſome Neighbºur ground. Laſtly, It is the Seminary of all manner of Miſchief, and final Ruin. This is the Lure to draw us in, and when we are once in, we ſtick at nothing: This is the conveyer of ſecret Intelligences, the betrayer of Councils and Truſts, the contriver of Treaſons, and under-hand Deſigns againſt the Peace and Safety of Mankind. In ſhort, the love of Plea- ſure ruins private Perſons by Prodigality and Injuſtice, diſ. honours and ſtains whole Families by Debauchery, and ſhameleſs Lewdneſs: Propagates Diſeaſes, and entails Beg- gary upon Children yet unborn; corrupts P. Juſtice; murder's Kings, overturns Governments, and ſcatters Confu- fion and Miſery over the face of the whole Earth. Thus much may be moſt juſtly ſaid of Pleaſure in general, which being now ſufficiently enlarged upon, we will proceed to conſider the ſeveral kinds of it in particular. * In præcipiti eſt, ad dolorem vergit, in contrarium abit, niſi modum teneat: Extrema gaudii lučtus occupat, C H A P. Ch. 39. Of Eating and Drinking, &c. 687 C H A P. XXXIX. Of Eating and Drinking, Abſtinence and Sobriety. TH: true deſign of Meat and Drink is Nouriſhment: To ſuſtain the Infirmities, and repair the continual decays of the Body; and a moderate, natural, and agreeable uſe of them ſatisfies and maintains it, makes it a ſerviceable inſtru- ment for the Mind; whereas on the contrary, all unnatural Exceſſes weaken and overwhelm it, draw on grievous and noiſome Diſeaſes, which are the juſt and natural Puniſhments of Intemperance. * Health is a plain and ſimple thing, and requires a cauſe of the ſame kind to produce it: Diftempers are many and various, and nothing contributes more to them, than variety of Diſhes, and high Feeding. When Men complain of their Head for ſo many troubleſome Defluxions, and thoſe Humours which fall upon the Vitals, and lays the founda- tions of the moſt dangerous Diſeaſes, they ſhould do well to remember, how juſtly the Brain might return upon them, that old ſaying, f Do you give over pouring in, and I will give over pouring out. While we are perpetually filling the Weſſel, how is it poſſible it ſhould not over-flow P. But alas ! theſe Conſiderations are now grown 3. out of faſhion, Exceſs and Pomp, Variety if nice Cookery, are come into Re- utation. We have learnt to eſteem our Meals, and to mea- ure our welcome, by the number of Diſhes, the different ſorts of Meats, the height of the Sawces, and the ſuper- fluity of the Entertainment. Nay, ſo prodigious is ...'. nity, that after we have ſet more before our Friends, than can be wholeſome for them to taſte of, or fit for us to ſpend, we make ſolemn Excuſes for our want of Proviſion, and are ſorry we have nothing better to receive them with. How exceeding prejudicial, both to a Man's Body and his Mind,full Meals, and the jumbling ſeveral ſorts of Meat toge- ther, Curioſities and Qualques Choſes, and high Dreſſing are, every one might eaſily be convinced by his own Experience. Gluttony and Drunkenneſs are groſs and paltry Vices; they * Simplex ex ſimplici cauſa valetudo; multos morbos, ſup- plicia Luxuriae, multa fercula fecerunt. + Define fundere, & ego deſinam flucre. - diſcover I , Ch. 39. Of Eating and Drinking, &c. 689 clear and unclouded; our Faculties awake and ſprightly, we are capable of thinking, and fit to be adviſed. All the very great Men in Story have been particularly eminent for their Sobriety; not only Philoſophers, and ſuch as made preten- ſions to a ſtrićt and ſeverer Virtue, but all that have been Ex- cellent, and whoſe Names live upon Record, for any ſort of Greatneſs whatſoever. Such were Cyrus, and Caeſar, the Emperour 3 ulian, and Mahonet. Such was Epicurus too, who, though a profeſt admirer of Pleaſure, and run down as a Scandal to Philoſophy for eſpouſing it, was yet famous for theſe abſtemious Virtues, above any of his Accuſers. The Curij and Fabricij are more celebrated in the Roman Hi- ſtory for their frugality and ſimplicity of Diet, than for the greateſt and moſt glorious Conqueſts they ever won. And though the Lacedæmonians wanted neither Courage, nor Suc- ceſs, nor a Reputation equal to both, yet the Character they valued themſelves upon, and pretended moſt to, was that of ſtrićt Diſcipline, Frugality and Sobriety. - Now this is a Virtue which muſt be fallen in love with betimes; Youth is the proper time for embracing it; while it can be called a Virtue; while we have more opportuni- ties of gratifying our Appetite; and while that Appetite is keener too. For how wretched is it, how ridiculous, to take Sanétuary here in our old Age, when we have made our ſelves living Hoſpitals, and are all over Aches and Pains? This is a folly, like that obſerved in the Athenians. ; who are ſaid never to have asked a Peace, but in Mourning Weeds, for their Friends and Relations ſlain in Battel; when all their Men of Note were loſt, and they no longer in a condition to defend themſelves. This is what our Engliſh • Proverb calls * Shutting the Stable-door when the Steed is ſtol- len ; and turning good Husbands, when we have brought our Noble to Ninepence, It will be very adviſeable, not to uſe our ſelves to deli- cious and artificial Meats, for fear our Body ſhould by de- rees come to reliſh no other, and ſuffer for the want of them. #. in truth, theſe make our Appetites humourſome, and ive us both a falſe Hunger, and a deceitful Nouriſhment. #. may feed our Diſeaſes and ill Humours, but the plainer and courſer our Diet, the truer ſtrength and more kindly Nouriſhment it imparts. Theſe therefore we ſhall do * Sera in fando parſimonia. - - Y y well ** * 5, Ch. 41. Of Temperance in Carnal, &c. 693 the abſtaining from evil, that it is not every ſort of good, which when punctually performed can lay claim to it; but (as was ſaid before) thoſe kinds and degrees of good only which bring advantage to the World, and which, beſides' their being beneficial, have coſt great toil and trouble, and been atchieved with conſiderable difficulty and danger. But beſides; how few of theſe Continent perſons arrive even at a common and very practicable Virtue P How ma- ny of them do we find ſcandalouſly tainted with other Vices, and making "º. this ſelf-denial by indulgences to ſome more darling Humour or Paſſion ? Particularly, how ex- ceeding few are there who eſcape the Temptations to Vani- ty and Preſumption, and Spiritual Pride, and while they take marvellous Content in their own perfections are very liberal in their Cenſures and Condemnations of other Peo- ple P Does not experience frequently convince us, how very dear ſome Husbands pay for the Fidelity of their Wives; who while they diſpoſſeſs the Devil in one part of their Souls and preſerve their Honour entire, do yet erect a Throne for him, and let him reign Triumphant in another P. If then this Virtue beget inſolence and Malice, Cenſoriouſneſs and Imperious Pride, it is like to turn at laſt but to very poor account. And thus clogged will very ill deſerve the name of Virtue, whatever it might be allowed otherwiſe: Not that I am over ſcrupulous, or would ſtand with the Sex for a Complement; and therefore, provided the flattering them with this title of Honour, will contribute any thing to the making them more tender of it, and encourage the Mo- deſty and Decency becoming their Sex and Condition, I ſhall be content to promote the diſcharge of their Duty at any rate, though it be by ſtraining a point to gratifie an uſe- ful Vanity. But to return ; It is likewiſe obſervable, that In- continency when ſimply and ſtrictly conſidered,like other faults which are what we call Corporeal, and tending to gratifie the Carnal inclinations of Humane nature, hath no mighty Ma- lignity in its own fingle ſelf; (it being only an exceſs of what is natural and not contrary to Humane nature,) but then there is a train of vices ſo black and hideous attending it, and ſome or more of them ſo inſeparable from it, that the danger of being entangled in thoſe ſnares is infinite, and the conſequence very fatal : For this is one of thoſe ſins that never go alone, but is accompanied with other Devil more and more wicked than it #. tainted with baſe i villainous circumſtances of perſons and places, and times Y y 3 - prohibited 698 of Wiſdom. Book III, 2. confidered with regard to their proper Motives and the prin- ciples their Authors went upon, be not, ſtričtly ſpeaking, the roduct of Virtue but of Ambition only ; yet ſtill they muſt É. acknowledged of general uſe and benefit, and the conſe- guences of them to the publick in all reſpects the very ſame, as if the inducements had been the moſt refined and perfect that Humane nature is in any Caſe capable of Now beſides the force of this Conſideration to commend it, the Philoſo- phers have allowed it to be excuſable at leaſt upon two occaſions; the one is, when the Aétions it excites Men to are profitable and good, but not in a degree of perfection eminent enough to pretend to the title of Virtuous; be- cauſe they lie in common to all Mankind, and the good or ill diſpoſitions of our minds incapacitate, no perſon from excelling in them. Of this kind particularly are Arts and Sciences, Humane Inventions, Military Courage, and all manner of Induſtry in general : The other is, when we find it neceſſary to F. the favour and good Opinion of ſome perſon upon whom our intereſt depends; for though it be a ſtanding rule in Philoſophy, never to make the Opini- on of others the meaſure º our Behaviour, yet there is this reſerve, and allowed Exception, that we may govern our ſelves upon ſuch principles, to avoid the inconveniences which either the want or Contempt of other Men's approbation may happen to involve us in. But indeed for a Man to practice Virtue merely upon this account, and aim at Honour and Reputation as if this were the proper wages and recompence of doing well, is not only a very vain and erroneous, but a moſt dangerous and deſtructive principle, This were a horrible diſparage- ment indeed, that Virtue ſhould be rendered ſo precarious as to derive all its value from hence, and to engage our Affections upon no better Conſiderations than what are - drawn from the judgment of the World : Every body muſt needs diſcern the courſeneſs of this Alloy, and that ſuch payment ought not to paſs upon us. Virtue certainly is not yet ſo debaſed as to go a begging, and deſiring teſtimonials for a ſubſiſtance. This reward is much below her ſeeking; and therefore we ſhould ſo fix our minds with true and no- ble Ideas of her, and ſettle our affections ſo firmly upon the thing it ſelf, that this accidental luſtre of the honours attending her may not dazle the Eyes of Reaſon, but leave us ſtill the Diſeretion, to make a difference between re- ceiving theſe as acknowledgments due for our good Aétions, - - * , . . . . . . . and Ch. 42. Of Ambition, and Temperance, &c. 699 i . and propounding them to our minds, as the end and ade- quate Reward of them : So ſhall we be eſtabliſhed upon a true bottom, and proceed upon reſolutions ſincere and immovable, ſuch as will ſtand like ſo many Barriers a- bout the Soul, and guard it againſt the vain aſſaults of vanity and Ambition, and every mean and ſelfiſh induce- ment. -- A Man ſhould be thoroughly perſwaded of the ſufficiency and ſelf-ſatisfaction of Virtue, that it asks no Nobler a Theatre to repreſent its excellency in than one's own Con- ſcience; this is ſpectator and audience enough, and if this applaud the Action the matter is not great who diſcom- mends it. The higher the Sun is above the Horizon, the leſs ſhadow it caſts; and the more Sublime any Man's Vir- tue is, the leſs affectation of Honour and Fame it is at- tended with. Nor is the fimilitude, improper, if we conſi- der the nature of the thing : For Glory is in earneſt a very ſhadow, it follows thoſe that flie from it, and runs away from thoſe that purſue it. We ſhould always remember who ſent us hither and what we are doing. That Life is a Pla where the parts are infinitely various, but no Man chooſes what he will act; he acquits himſelf well who ſtudies the humour of the part aſſigned him, and performs it agreeably to its Character, or (as Epičietus ſays upon another occaſion,) that we live in this World, as People ſit at an Entertain- ment, where every well mannered Man will be content to feed upon that Diſh which the Maſter of the Feaſt helps him to, without reaching over the Table, and ſcrambling and ſnatching from other People's Plates. If then a Prefer- ment, or ſome Office of Honour and Truſt be offered to us, if we are capable of diſcharging it, let us accept it gladly, but modeſtly too; and let us do the duty of it faithfully and ſincerely; aſſuring our ſelves, that God hath ſet us our Poſt; and that by committing to us a publick Truſt, he ex- ects we ſhould ſtand Centry, and be continually upon the Guard; that by our vigilant care thoſe who are committed to our charge may ſleep ſecurely. And for all this Labori- ous Attendance, let us propoſe no other Recompence or Commendation, than that only of our own Conſciences; and the ſweet ſatisfactions of doing what becomes us; or if others do, (as without queſtion, they will) ſee and ap- prove our Good works; let us deſire, that the Teſtimony of our having done well, may be graven in the Hearts of our Countrey, rather than publiſhed by Statues, and pom- • * : - - - , , . . . . . - - - - - - Pous 7co of Wiſłom. Book III. pous Frontiſpieces, and long flattering Inſcriptions. In a word, let this be a Principle with us ; that the Fruit of noble, generous Aëtions cannot poſſibly be loſt ; that the glory of having done them is an ample Compenſa- tion: And that, when Virtue deſcends to go out of her felf, and look abroad for a Reward, ſhe undervalues her own worth, and muſt take up with things beneath her. To deſpiſe Greatneſs, and expoſe the vanity of ſetting our Hearts upon it, is no ſuch mighty matter. He that loves himſelf, and can make any tolerable Judgment of Happineſs, will be content with a moderate and eaſie For- tune; the Stations that are at the top of Mankind, as they excell in Dignity, ſo they exceed in Harms, and IDifficulty, and Trouble; and thoſe that are at the very bottom, tormented with Poverty, and anxious uncertainties of Subſiſtence, are equally to be declined. Here is too much Buſineſs, or too much Suffering, for any Man of found Wiſdom to wiſh, none but fickly Palates will be fond of either. Otanes, one of the ſeven, who had a joynt Right to the Principality of Perſia, quitted his Pretenſi- ons to the reſt of the Competitors, provided that he and all his Family might live quietly under that Governmen and be free from all Subjection, except ſuch as the ol ſtanding Laws obliged them to. . This was truly great, neither to affect to command, nor bear to be commanded; and other inſtances of contemning Honour and Greatneſs, we have ſeveral in Story; for even Diocleſian diveſted him- ſelf of the Empire, and Celeſtine quitted the Papacy; ſo lit- tle have the Charms of Sovereignty it ſelf been found up- on Tryal, and ſo far from impracticable is the utmoſt pitch of the Virtue oppoſite to Ambition, - - C H A P. 708 - Of Wiſdom. Book III. vantage too, ſince they will be ſure to ſeize and uſurp the Weapon, for the more effectual Execution of their miſchie- vous Deſigns ; we are the more concerned not to go into the Field Naked, but to beat them at their own Weapon, and with equal Induſtry and Skillto Counter-work them; that ſo Virtue and Truth may not be circumvented, or tamely loſt, for want of proper Preparations to defend it. Several indeed have abuſed their attainments of this kind to very villainous purpoſes, and made Eloquence the inſtrument of Ruin and ôº to private Perſons, and whole Commu- nities of Men. This is a melancholy Truth ; too manifeſt to be denied. But then the Conſequence of granting it muſt be, not to deſpiſe or ſet aſide the thing, upon the account of any ill Efects, that have followed upon the miſemployment " of it. = No, This is a Misfortune common to every thing, that r is uſeful and excellent; for none of theſe are ſo neceſſarily : confined to Goodneſs, but that they are capable of being : perverted to very great Evil. Nature hath provided them s with an Aptitude and Efficacy ; but it will depend upon the : Diſpoſition of the Perſon that manages thoſe Powers, what = ſort of Effects thoſe natural Abilitics ſhall be applied and de- = termined to. For even that Reaſon and Underſtanding, = which is the peculiar Prerogative of Humane Nature, and 3 ſets us above Brutes, is moſt miſerably abuſed ; turned = againſt God and our ſelves, and made the occaſion of our 3 more inexcuſable Ruin ; but this is only an accidental Mis- - fortune, far from the natural rendency of ſo noble a Privi- : lege. And he, who would argue from hence that Mankind 3 had better want theſe Faculties, may juſtly ſeem to have de- 3 generated into Brute , and to be forſaken of all that Rea- s ſon, which he ſo wildly and ſo raſhly condemns. F I N I S. E R R A T A. DRefºe, Page 3. line J. read Prality. p. 23, 1 to rºll as. In the Account of the Author, p. 2. 1 1s. r. improving. Lib. 1. p. 97.1. 8. r. depos'd. P. 209. l. 2. r the p. 227. l. s.r. deforms and defaces, p. 3 is. i. 21, r, waſhing, p. 332, in Now r, mor, eſt. Innocentes. . -