THE LIBRARY OF THE UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LOS ANGELES FREDERIC THOMAS BLANCHARD ENDOWMENT FUND <-? r b CIRCE, Tranflated from the ITALIAN of John Baftift Gelli, o F T H E ACADEMY of FLORENCE. Otii Cato reddendam Operam putat. Prsef. Juft. Hift. LONDON: Printed by JAMES BET TEN HAM, MDCCXLIV. P for Gages PREFACE. xiii Gages of human Wit : like tbofe Marks on the Obelijk that jhew how high the Waters of the Nile have reachd y but which they have never exceeded. "The fir ft Age, which yielded fo luxu- riant a Crop of Poets, Phihfophers, Orators ,Hift or ians, Painters and Sculp- tors is the time^ a little preceding Philip ^Macedon, and laftingfomewhat after Alexander the Great. 7%e fecond is bounded on one Side * by Caefar and Cicero, on the other by Sue- tonius and Tacitus. The third is that ever memorable JEra for Chriftendom^ when Conftantin Pale- ologus was expeWd the Greek Empire by Mahomet the Second. Then it was that the Arts flying before an Inundation of barbarous Eaftern Enthuafifts were re- ceivd, carefsd) and almoft adord by the Princes of the Houfe of Medici. Nor was their Patronage ill beftowd^ which within the Compafs of a Century gave birth to the Michael Angelos, Raphaels, * See Pieces fugitives par Voltair?. And Gia.mbullari fjell' Origine della Lingua Fiorentina, altramenti il Cello. Titians, xiv PREFACE. Titians, Arioftos and Taffos. Leo ttf 'Tenth laid out the public Spirit fo pecu- liar to his Family in reviving the Tafte of ancient Rome ; which it mujl be ownd he retrievd tofuch a Degree, that the Genius of the Auguftan Agefeemd to a- wake fully refrefid from a found Sleep of above a thoufand Tears. The Province left for Cofmo was to correct and polijh his own native Lan- guage. To effeft this he ereEted a learned Society at Florence caWd the Crufca. Gelli, or Gello, for he is indifferently call d either ^ was Jo diftinguift? da Mem- ber of that Academy that he is frequent- ly called its fecond Founder. To execute this Plan of their Prince^ Gelli publijh'd aTreatife della LinguaTofcana, andGi- ambullari, who was reckoned one of the moft learned Men in Italy, * printed an- other dell' Origine della Lingua Fioren- tina, which) as a Teftimony of his great Efteem y he entitled, II Gello. 'Thefe two with the concur rent Labours of their Bre- * Giambullari pafla pour un des plus fgavans Hommes d'ltalic. See Ghilini Theat. des Homines illuft. trhen PREFACE. x * thren brought tie Tufcan Language to fuch Perfe^ion^ that it has ever fince been efteemdthe Standard Italian, and all the reft are looKd upon as fo many Dialetts of it. So that I think we have gain V one Point for Circe,/r0#z what has been f aid of its Author, that probably p , as Hamlety^yj of his Play, the Original was wrote in excellentltelizn. And I believe it would be very difficult to find a Book, that could give fo juft anldea of the State of Literature of that Age a?id Country. 'The Circe wasfoon tranjlated into the principal Tongues of Europe ; and has the Honour of giving Birth to the * phi- lofophical Idiom which was by It fir ft in- troduced into the modern Languages. His Skill in Criticifm may be collected from the manyLecJures he publijhedon the Poetry of Dante : As may his Knowledge inphilofophicalMattersfromtheTreatifes which he was prevailed upon by the urgent Entreaties of Simon For tins f, to tran- Jlatefor him from his Works into Italian. * Vide Fontanini della Eloquenza Italians, p. 117. f Set 1' Autheur.de la Vie des Aca^iemiciens de Florence. xvi PREFACE. I find Gelli alfo a Writer of Repu- tation in the way of Wit^ as Author of two Comedies, La Sporta, and L'Errore : But the Capricii del Bottaio, or Hu- mours of the Cooper isfo capital a Piece of Drollery ) that Monf. Duchat in his Notes upon Rabelais onfome of the mojl humorous Paffages, fays> that if the Dates of the Publication of the two Pieces would allow of it, II n'hefiteroit point a croire, que Rabelais 1'auroit paraphrafe. He alfo tranjlated) one would think, tojbew the Verfatility of his Pen, the Tragedy of Hecuba from Euripides: and was engagd in a Work that requird an intimate Acquaintance with the Latin Tongue, by Paulus Jovius, who himfelf was even in thofe high Times by common Gonfent ftiled Roraanae gloria Lingua?. Now to have been diftingtiijtid by fome Proofs of Approbation by the foremoft Writer of the Age in which one lives > I think too great an Honour, not to be claim d for my Author, fince I muft always PREFACE. xvii a/ways efleem it the great eft that ever happen d to myfelf. This I have the more infifted on, be- caufe the great Thuanus fays of Gelli roundly^ that he had not the leaft fmat- tering of Latin *. From whence I could not but make this Reflexion upon volumi- nous Writers* that if it be very pardon- able when Sleep fometimes fteals upon them, it is very deplorable that during that Interval fo many Dreams jhould iffue into Light through the Ivory Gate. It was the more effectually to fecure Gelli from this falfe Reprefentation, that I have in a few Notes pointed out the Paffages of the Greek and Roman Writ- ers that hetranjlates or alludes to ; which though they are few in comparifon of what might eajily have been producd^ will, with what has beenf aid Sufficiently evince the great Extent and Variety of his Learning. A Writer of his Knowledges ', as well as Humour ', might certainly have more enliven d theFable byEpifodes^ Defer ip- * Nullis Litteris Latinis tin&us. a tions xviii PREFACE. tions and Machinery ; but it required juft as much ^Judgment as His to keep the *S' O J. Moral ftill in view. And he is contented arrived at length at the I/land of Circe. Where being court eoujly received, he ft ay ed feme Time to enjoy the Favours of the God- defs. But having an invincible Dc/ire of feeing once more his native Country, he demanded Licence to depart j and at the fame Time infijled that jhe Jhould change back into Men, all the Greeks that foe had transformed into divers Animals about her, and give them full Liberty to return 'with him to their own Homes. The E,nchantrefs readily complies with his Requeft upon this Condition, that he Jhould afk this Favour for thofe only that dejired it themfelves ; and that all the reft Jhould remain with her, tojmijb their Lives under the Shape of thofe EeaJIs thsy then refrefented. And that be jjfli_- ' '" " bl The A R G U M E N T. & might come at their real Sentiment s t Jke by art Magick rejlored to each of them the fame Power of Language they enjoyed in their human Form. Ulyfles traverfes the whole I/land \ and frequently makes his Pro- pofals, but every one for Reafons which he gives peculiar to himfelf y obflinately refufes to accept of the offer , and declares that he will by no Means quit his prefent Condition to turn Man again. At Length he meets with one who, convinced of the Excellency of the human Nature from the Superiority the Underftanding gives it over other Ani- mals > intreats to become again the Man he was. Ulyfles recovers him to his prijline State -, be y as 'tis natural to Man, returns his Thanks to God the Author of all that's great and good; and they in Tranfport fet fail for Greece together. NAMES O F T H E SUBSCRIBERS, I S Royal Highnefs the Prince of Wales. Her Royal Highnefs the Princefs of Wales. His Grace the Duke of Leeds. His Grace the Duke of Portland. The moft noble the Marquis of Hartington. Right Hon. the Earl of Denbigh. b Earl SUBSCRIBERS. Earl of Eufton. Earl of Halifax. Countefs of Hartford. Earl of Northampton. 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C I R C K Tranflated from the Italian of JOHN BAPTIST GELLI, DIALOGUE I. Ulyffes, Circe, the Oifter and the Mole* N D yet 'tis true, fair daughter of the Sun, il- luftrious Circe! amidft this vaft profufion of de- lights, and full pofleffion of celeftial charms, after fo long an abfence, this ftrong defire of feeing home will fuffer me to know nor reft, nor peace. But e'er we part I beg to be refolved, if there be any Greeks difguifed B under 2 DIALOGUE I. under the hideous forms of lions, wolves, bears, and other favages that glare upon us. Circe. As I can hide no truth from dear UkJJes, I fairly own there are j but why that queftion ? Ulyf. Let us a while enjoy the profpeft which that fett upon the rock commands, and I will tell you all. The infinite variety that will prefent itfelf to our view, will ei- ther furnifh difcourfe, or ferve to enliven it. Tty^ little action of the waves heav'd gently by the breeze diverfifies the fcene j and the foft Zephyrs feem in their paffage to have robbed the flowery fhrubs of half their o- dours. Circe. As I aim at nothing but to pleafe you, you have nothing to do but to propof. Ulyf. The reafon then, fair Siren, why I a(k if any Greek be concealed here under the figure of a beaft is, becaufe I purpofe, if ever UlyJJes had any intereft in that breaft, to beg, -with tears to beg, that they may be recalled to their human fhape, and be the glad companions of my voyage. Circe. And what reaibn can you give for this requefl ? Ulyf: What reafon ? The pity that I feel for every wretched countryman, within this- fighing Uty/Tes, Circe, the Oift'er and Mole. 3 fighing bofom. What bleffings muft they in tranfport pour upon me, to find themfelves redeemed from this fo vile and miferable a ftate ? Or elfc, what an eternal ftamp of ig- nominy muft my name be branded with, to have it faid, this was the man that left his miferable friends transformed to brutes, nor evef once endeavoured to refcue them from the mean condition of the bcaftly herd ? J Circe. But, on the contrary, if inftead of all thefe bleffings, all thefe thanks, to you and to the Gods, your flattering fancy prc- mifes, you find each moment from their re- covery employed in bittereft curfes, and mofl execrable vows, how will it repent the gene- rous Ulyffes of his mifplaced benevolence^ and too officious love ? Ufyf. Ha ! ha ! to recover a loft friend from beaft to man, muft, without doubt j prove an unpardonable injury. Circe. Ay moft unpardonable.-^ But make the trial I confent only with this pfovifo, that this be pracliled on none but who them- felves are willing to fubmit to it. Ufyf. Agreed ; but how can this be done? How mall I know their inclinations, fince, poor wretches ! I (hall neiiher underftand them, nor they me. This, Circe, favours too ftrongly of a banter, B 2 Circt. 4 DIALOGUE I. Circe. As for that I beg you'll give your- felf no trouble ; that's already granted. Ufyf. Granted ! What ? That they (hall have the ufe of language, and the fame lan- guage that they ufed before their metamor- phofis ? Circe. The fame. The power that con- verted them into brutes, fhall now be exer- cifed in recalling their paft ideas, and the full force of all their reafon *. To lofe no longer time, d'ye fee two {hells that ftick upon that rock ? See ! now they open, now they clofe again. A little o* this fide, d'ye mark me ? is a fmall heap of earth, not far from the water, at the foot of yonder palm tree. Ufyf. I fee them both diftinftly. Circe. The {hells contain an oifter, and the hillock harbours a mole ; both were men, both Greeks, as you will find by their difcourfe. And that you may examine them with the greater freedom, I will remove to fome diflance, and divert myfeif along the ftrand, where, when you fully have fatisfied your curiofity, you may be fure to find me ; and when you have their confent, you free- ly {hall have mine. Exit. j. Hem. Od. x. 240. Uly fles, Ci rce, the Oifter and Mole. 5 Ufyf. folus. Why this is a mafter-piece of her art ! But is it pollible that by her power- ful charms, they (hall be able both to con- verfe and reafon with me ? I muft own it feems to me fo much to pafs the bounds of probability, that I fcarce dare rilk the banter it expofes me to. But then, fay, who is here to laugh at me ? None but herfelf ; and it muft be beneath the fprightly humour of a Goddefs to lay fo dull a fcheme, as to draw in a friend to expofe himfelf, merely for the poor ill-natured pleafure of laughing at him. Well then 'tis refolved and I'll begin. But how ? For I know no other names for thefe people than that of the animals they reprefent. Let us try then : You Oifter ; mafter Oifter. Oifter. What would Ufyjfes have with me? Ufyf. My name too ! now am I quite a- mamed not to be able to return the compli- ment : but anfwer, and boldly too, if, as Circe fays, thou art a Greek. Oifl. I anfwer rather that I 'was a Greek ; I have reafon to remember it : I lived near Athens^ my name was lthacus t and I was miferable enough to be a fimerman. B 3 Ul. Then 6 DIALOGUE I. Ul. Then I congratulate thee, old Oifter, that thou haft found a friend, who hearing that thou waft born a man, out of the uni- verfal love he bears his fpecies, and above all, his countrymen the Greeks^ has under- taken to entreat the Goddefs, that {he will inftantly reftore thee to thy former mape, and fend thee a glad partner of his return. Oift. I fhould not be infenfible of the force of that wifdom and eloquence for which the fage UlyJJes fo juftly was renowned a- mong the Greeks, were not the one employed to draw me from the uninterrupted happinefs I now enjoy, and the other proftituted to re- concile me to manhood, the moft miferable eftate any animal in the univerfe can be doomed to. Ul. Sure, Itbacus, thy mape fuffered lefs than thy underftanding in the change. Oifl. If you fpeak as you think, I am perfuaded that your underftanding would not fuffer by any change. But rallery apart, let us without prejudice examine the point, and you will find that I, who have experienced both eftates, fhall demon lira te the truth of every thing I affert. Ul. Come on then, for I love demonftra- tion dearly. Oijl. At- Uly flcs, Circe, the Oifter and Mole. 7 Oift. Attend then j but firft I muft de- mand your word of honour that, when I throw open my upper (hell in order to exalt my voice, as muft happen in the courfe of our dialogue, you will keep a ftri<5t eye, that none of yon fly villainous crabs chuck in a pebble, which they carry in their claws, be- tween my (hells, and fo hinder me from (hutting myfelf up. Ul. What pray (hould they do that for? Oift. Only that they may gag me, and fo thruft in that fame claw to tear me out and eat me*, that's all, Sir. And that's what they are creeping up fo clofe to put in exe- cution. Ul. A very refined plot truly ! But pray who taught you thus, either to fecure your- felf, or to fore fee their defigns upon you ? Oift. Nature ; that never fails us in nc- ceilaries. UL Go on then ; and fpeak without fu- fpicion or fear, while I ftand your pledge. Oift: Have patience then, and tell me a little Ulyffes, if you men, who pride your- lelves in being more perfect, and more wife, than other animals, by all the boafteu ad- * Vttera.tona.ni bane cancri calliJiiatetn late dejct ii/unt. Cjv pian. Plut. Pliji. B 4 vantages 8 DIALOGUE I. vantages of reafon, if you, I fay, don't al- ways more value thofe things that you efteem to be better than others. Ul. Certainly ; the perfection of human reafon confifts in difcerning the value of things, and then ranging them in their proper claffes, according to the degrees of their me- rit. To prize things equally muft proceed from not being acquainted with the relations they ftand in ; and is an infallible fign of ig- norance. Oift. Apd don't you love one thing more than another? UL Yes; becaufe our love or hatred muft rife in proportion to the value we difcover in any thing. Every thing that appears lovely mufl excite defire, and whatfoever is unami- able muft create diilike. Oift. If you love one thing more than another, will not that love exprefs itfelf in 3. greater concern for the thing beloved ? UL No doubt of it, Oift. D'ye think Nature does not do the fame thing ? Or, which is all one, that In- telligence that directs Nature ? And muft not me do it more effectually, it being impofTible that Nature mould ever err; as I have heard your philofophers a hundred times afTert at Athens^ Ulyfies, Circe, the Oifter and Mole. 9 Athens^ when I have been with my pannier of fim in the fchools ? VI. That I grant too. Oift. Nay then you grant all I contend for, if you allow fo much, it muft follow by juft eonfequence that we are your betters. VI. Howfo? Oift. Becaufe if Nature takes more care of us, (he has more love for us, and that can only follow from the reafon aforefaid. VI. Why, who would have thought to find fo much logick between a pair of mells ? I proteft, old fiftimonger, I'll back thee againft the firft logician in all Athens. Oijl. I know not what you mean by your logick; I fpeak the language that Nature dictates; and what me fuggefts, if attended to, will always be found right. VI. As witnefs the proportion before us; that flie fets a higher degree of value upon the brute creation than on man. Oijl. This is fo evident a truth, that a fmall degree of confideration will give you the full force of the demonftration. And to tire you but once for all, let us go back as far as we can, up to the firft time that ei- ther you or me make our appearance in the world : I meap, let us take our eftimate from our io DIALOGUE I. our birth-day. Now which of us two docs {he feem to be moft folicitous about ? About thofe that are dropt ftark naked, and ex- pofed to the wide world; or thofe that (he has been at the pains to fet out thoroughly furnimt and equipt ? This : animal with a tough hide, that with a warm fur > this armed with fcales, that beautifully adorned with feathers. Here I think one cannot long doubt whofc prefervation me feems to have mofl at heart. Ul. That is not the reafon why we arc born naked, or covered with a ikin fo very delicate, that the flighted: imprefTion is ca- pable of offending us. The true reafon of this was, becaufe as fhe intended we mould cxercife more than you all the internal fenfes, cfpecially the imagination, in order to keep them in readinefs to ferve the undemanding, it was necelfary that all our parts, particu- larly thofe that are the immediate organs and inftruments of fenfation, mould be fupplied with a fluid more active and fubtle, more fpirituous and capable of a higher degree of rarefaction, than yours. Whereas, were we like you filled with foul humours, and heavy blood (from whence you are of a ftronger texture, and of more robuft limbs j but we generally UlyfieSjCirce, the Oijler and Mole. \ i generally longer lived, which by the by ar- gues a better mixture in our conftitution) our fenfibility which is affected by very mi- nute objects would like yours be but very flow and imperfect. For as your Phyfiogno- mijls obferve, our difpofitions depend upon the configuration of the parts *. He that refembles a lion will behave like one j and the manners of a bear ever correfpond with the likenefs of a bear. The obfervation holds good through our own fpecies ; thofe that are compofed of groffer humours are of flower parts, and where you find the {kin foft, and the flefh fupple, you may promife yourfelf a certain delicatenefs of apprehenfiorL So that when Nature defigned to make us rational creatures me was obliged to make us juft as we are. Oift. I can never believe that me which made all things, was under the impulfe of any necefiity to determine her operations, which flie could accommodate to her own purppfes. And could have purfued quite different methods, and other means to ac- compliih her end. As for inllance, fhe could have given water the burning quality, and fire the freezing one. * :.<; -A-//: w.v ill r^-Jto^nomidi, a; id Bsf>t, Porta. Ut. Not 12 DIALOGUE I. VI. Not with fafety to that uniformity, that harmony, that we fo juftly admire, and is fo confpicuous, throughout the univerfe. Oift. But if a different difpofltion of things had better pleafed her, different beauties muft refult from it, perhaps no way inferior to the prefent. Z77. Nay if once we fall into guefs-work, and bare poflibilities, we muft be loft. But to return to our argument j what does it fig- nify if (he did turn us out naked, and at the fame time furnifhed us with either Hull or ftrength enough to ftrip you of your {kins to clothe ourfelves withal ? Oift. Ay, but how full of dangers many times is the attempt ? How many have fuf- fered in it ? Not to infift on the labour that muft fucceed : In the trouble of fpinning, weaving, and dreffing them, before they can be fit to be worn ? Ul. What you call labour is in truth a mere amufement. Oift. It may feem fo to you ; and for ought I know to others, who are quite at their eafe j but afk thofe that live by thcfc amufements, and I am miftaken if they don't call them by another name, and they are the beft judges of the pleafure of work- ins. Ulyffes, Circe, the Qifter and Mole. 1 3 ing. For my own part, when I was a man, I had fuch an abhorrence for work, that it was folely to avoid it that I turned fimerman. For there is no danger that I would not pre- fer before labour. The life of a labourer feems to me to be exactly the life of an ox, who is all his time in the geers, and when his labour is done, he is rewarded by a good thump of a fledge upon the forehead. VI. He that to avoid labour could turn fimerman, juftifies the old proverb, that La- zieft folks take the moft pains ; if a man flies from trouble, I obferve it generally follows him. Of all trades yours, unlefs a man fhould chufe it out of a particular turn for it, muft be the moft difagreeable, as it is per- petually expofed to the fudden changes of heat and cold, and all the uncertainties of wind and weather. Oift. You fee I think fo j and therefore abfolutely refufe to become a man again. Who feems to me (befides being expofed by Nature naked and helplefs) wholly unprovid- ed of a place of refidence j without a houfe to hide his head in from the inclemencies of the feafons ; the vagabond and exile of the world VI. Pray i 4 DIALOGUE I. W. Pray Sir, what curious dome has flic provided for you) Gift. I beg you, Sir, not to overlook the beauties and conveniencies of this pair of fliells. See with what eafe do I throw them open ? With what readinefs do I fhut them, juft as I want either to eat or fleep or to de- fend myfelf ? Not to mention the fnail and the tortoife ; with what facility do they bear their houfes about with them ? UL How few fuch can you name out of the whole brutal world ? For example, there's the whole nation of the birds, what manfions have they built for them ? Oift. I anfwer ; for their winter habita- tions the fafe caverns and deep grottos of the earth; for their fummer feats, the retire- ment of the groves, or the whole range of the mountains. UL Delightful apartments truly ! and fine- ly furnifhed with all manner of neceflaries ! Oift. What they want in furniture th6y make up in comfort and fatisfaction, which are great rarities in fome of your cafHes and palaces. UL Then it muft be our own faults ; fince we are our own architects, and confequently, may build them to our own tafte. Oift. That Uly ffes, Circe, the Oifter and Mole. 1 5 Oift. That tafte is no fecurity againft the trouble of defending them, the expence of repairing them ; and what is more, againfl the danger of their tumbling upon your heads. Not to mention the horrors men "fometimes are thrown into from the mere ap- prehenfion of earthquakes, which you know in our own country are fo very terrible, that I have known men quit their houfes, to fleep in the fields by night, and all the day long run up and down fcreaming like a flock of frighted herns praying and adjuring the Gods with lighted torches, and all the noh- fenfe of charms that fuperftition can fug- geft: So that the fofteft thing one could lay of it was, their fears had drove out their wits. Ul. Thcfe are instances fo very rare, that they are of no account. Oift. Further;, you cannot always chufe your lituation ; and when you have, there you are nailed down without the power, as many of us have, of carrying our houfes on our backs. UL A great difadvantage truly ; when a man has pleafed himfelf every way in the choice of his fituation, not to be able to run away from it. Don't you know Chi ft a bene y 3 non 16 DIALOGUE I. non debbe mutarfi; " he that is well has no ct bufinefs to rifque a change." Oifi. And is it really no difadvantage to be pin'd down to a bad neighbour, who may be always plaguing one by his ill-nature, or offending you by fome difagreeable trade ? whereas we under fuch circumftances have the whole world before us to fettle in. So that to return to our firil propofition, as Na- ture has taken more care of us, and as me cannot err in her choice, it muft follow, that we are better and more valuable than you, which was the thing to be demonftrated. VI. Was there ever fuch fophiflry ! Where- as the true reafon why me may feem to pro- vide more for you than for us, is becaufe me knew you had not faculties enough to provide for yourfelves. But I think one fhort que- ftion will cut this argument mort : Pray which is higheft in rank, the matter or the fervant ? Oifl. The mafter, confidered merely as fuch. U/. Right j and thus it is in the nature of things, that which is confidered as the end, is more noble, and of more efleem than the bare means in order to ferve that end. Now that we are the end for which you were created UlyffeSjCirce, the Oifter and Mole. 17 created is evident, becaufe all that you arc good for is employed in, and directed to our fervice. You carry our burdens, do our drudgery, and plough our ground, when a- live j for which we do you the honour to wear your fkins, and eat your flefh, after you are dead. Oijl. By parity of reafon that fame ground is more excellent than you. Your lives are fpent in it's fervice ; and when you are dead, it generouily repays you by devouring you j that therefore is the ultimate or final caufe of your creation. Ut. I deny the confequence j which you will eaiily fee to be falfe, if you pleafe to confider that final caufes are of two forts. Oift. I would fain fpare you the trouble, Ulyjfes, which I fee you are going to give yourfelf, of entering upon a queftion which I have fo often heard handled by the Philo- fophers in the porches at Athens, where, as I told you before, I ufed to ply with my fiih ; in which they feemed to me readily to dif- cufs what, I believe, neither they nor any body elfe underftand. Befides I perceive the dew begins to fall, with which I never fail, by flinging my fliell up, to regale myfelf, and that too in a condition fo void of care, fo C undifturbed i 8 DIALOGUE I. undiflurbed by thought, that I never remem- ber to have enjoyed the like in the ftate to which you would bring me back. So that I hope, by this time, you begin to ceafe to wonder, that I am refolved to continue juft as you fee me. If your notions clam a little with mine, pleafe to keep them to yourfelf, for I am determined not to be troubled with them. After fupper it is my method to (hut up, and compofe myfelf to reft, without leaving room for fo much as one uneafy re- flection, which is more than the wifeft among you can often boaft of. And I am more pleafed with my own contentment, than with any thing that it is in your power to beftow on me in lieu of it. Exit. UL Well ! I have certainly fct out with Very ill luck. That I mould light on fuch a perverfe creature ! who muft have been a wretch of a low degree of reafon : His very trade proves it. Thofe that can beftow thek whole time in attending upon birds and fifties have very feldom an underftanding three de- grees better than they; always excepting fome ingenious young men of quality who conde- fcend to let their wits againft fuch animals. What a relifh muft he have of the pleafures of the world, that could prefer a little dew i to Ulyfles, Circej the Oifter and Mole. 1 9 to the moft exquifitc of them ? E'en let him remain the wretch he is, as. a juft reward for fo much infenfibility. Jn the mean time we v/ill proceed to reafon a little with the inha- bitant that Circe tells me refides in this mole- hill j we (hall find him perhaps a grave and difcreet perfonage. Now for it. Mole, why Mole I fay. Mole. What wouldft thou have with me^ UtyfJ'es? Or how have I deferved that thou fhouldft thus break in upon my peace ? UL Did you but know how I have em- ployed my intereft with Circe, and how fat 1 my prayers have prevailed for you, the leaft fpark of gratitude would incline you to for- give me this intrufion. Mole. I know it all ; I overheard what pafled between that other Greek and you j I mean the Oifter. Ul. What ? that I had the grant of re^ fcuing thee from this prifon, of conferring manhood upon thee j and, if thou art a Greek, of conveying thee fafe back to thy own country? Mole. A Greek \ was ; and of the moft delightful part of all Etolia. UL The ftronger then muft be thy wifliefc to refume thy old fhape, and to revolt thy native foil* C 2 Molt. 20 DIALOGUE I. Mole. You fpeak of alterations that I have not yet been fool enough to confider. Ut. How? Is it folly then in your lan- guage to wifh to change from worfe to better ? Mole. No ; but it is fo to make intereft to change better for worfe, which is the pre- fent cafe. Sir, the flate of the bargain is this, to barter uninterrupted tranquillity for all that anxiety of mind, and racking cares, which human nature is fo plentifully fupplied with. TJL You are giving a proof indeed, that you were liftening to that fool of a FiQi- monger with whom I was talking. Mole. I liften to nothing lefs than to ex- perience, the ftrongeft proof; and what is more, to experience, grounded on my own employment. Ul. In what manner did this fame expe- rience prove that we are lefs happy, or more miferable, than you ? Mole. I (hall confine myfelf to the ob- fervation of one only miferable circumftance that attends you ; which I fay my own em- ployment naturally threw in my way to make. Then I mail leave you to your own thoughts, to make the application, and to draw confe- quences. Ul. Say UlyfleSjCircc, the OiJIer and Mole. 21 U/. Say on j but firft, What ftrange en>- ployment could that be which led you into fuch grofs miftakes ? Mole. \ was an hulbandman, a day la- bourer indeed. 77. Why this is falling out of the frying- pan into the fire with a witnefs, to efcapc from a fifhcrman, and to ftumblc upon a clodpate, who, unlefs he has undergone a thorough transformation, muft be ten times ftupider than he. Mole. Ufyffes, it will better become you to mind what I fay, than to reflect on what I was. Take this with you, that every man, is a man ; and if you arc attentive, I don't doubt but we (hall foon have you lamenting your hard lack, that you miffed the favour of being changed yourfelf by the Goddefs, as well as your neighbours. Ul. If you only require my attention, you may depend on that. Mole. What animal then do you find throughout the univerfe, of which there arc infinite fpecies, terreftrial or aquatick, for whom the earth does not of itfelf provide proper fuftcnance, except man alone ? Who unlefs he is weary of his being, muft un- dergo the perpetual drudgery of ploughing, C 3 fowing, 22 DIALOGUE I. fowing, and all the fatigues of hufban- dry? UL This is a miftake grounded upon mere luxury ; whereas were we but contented to live as you do, we need be at no more pains than you. Mole. Well then pray what herb, what feed, or what fruit, does the earth fponta- neoufly produce, J mean without the afliftr jmce of art, which is a proper food to pre- ferve either your health or life? Ui. Did you never hear how the firft and belt of men fared in the fo much boafted golden age ? Mole. That I take to be a fable too grofs for the wife UlyJJes to fwallow. Ui. Granting all that you fay to be true, and that man is obliged to this circle of till* ing the ground, pruning his vines, and graft- ing his trees, is he not fufficiently rewarded by the pleafurc that attends the talk ? It is at mofl but a recreation that Nature cuts out for him, having his welfare too much at heart tp fuffer him to pafs his time in idler nefs r And that this is true, the recompence of his toil abundantly {hews. For there is nothing more agreeable, or that gives us an opportunity of fhewing that fkill and ma-^ nagement Ulyfles, Circe, the Oi/ler and Mole. 2% nagement- that fbts us fo much above you hearts. Mole. Say rather, that it was inflided up- on you, as ah effectual means to fecure you from enjoying one hour's peace ; for befide the trouble of making the moil of what you have, you are plagued about what you have not. And as the produce of the earth is very uncertain, when there happens to come a fcarce year, all that time is fpent in dreadful apprehenfions how far it may go; and not a morfel can be fwallowed without the fear of a famine before your eyes ; which can never be our cafe, when provhion be- gins to come mort in one place, we. imme- diately look out for another, without being much ernbarraffed by removing our luggage. Ul. Then I prefume you never heard of fuch a thing as commerce, and of fupplying the neceflkies of one country by the redun- dancy of another. Mole. But with what fatigue from jour- neys, what dangers from voyages ? And what is more, with what difquietude of mind ! Let this fuffice, to mew that your life is one continued fcene of diftrefs, now labouring under one misfortune, now ftruggling with another. So that, what you cannot retort C 4 upon 24 DIALOGUE I. upon us, you have rcafon at your birth to flied thofe tears, that arc but ^prelude to the mifery that muft cnfue. Ul. That's abfurd ; bccaufe when we fhed thofe tears we are neither confcious of good or harm. Mok. Be that as it will; you begin from that moment to find the inconveniencies of the climate to which you are doomed ; which, as I faid before, is made fuitable to every animal but you. And for that reafon you alone are by Nature fupplied with tears. UL How ! did you never hear of a horfc's ihedding tears * ? Mole. Yes, but I never believed it. And thofe drops that have been fo well attefted to fall from their eyes, I take to be nothing * Virg. JEntid. Lib. XI. Carm. 90. Poft bellator equus pojitis infignibus armis It lacbrymans, guttis bumeftat grandibus ora. It is fufEcient to juftify a poetical philofopher, (Poeticum enitn effe Quvetov philofaphi* ait Sjnefius, Ep. I . ) that Arijlotlc and Pliny fay, horfcs often weep at the lofs of their mafter ; but what Suetonius, an hiftorian, fays of Co-far' 1 ?, horfes weeping at their mafter's paffing the Rubicon, gives unqueftionable au- thority. So Horn. Iliad. XVII. Their godlike mafter Jlain before their eyes Ibtj weft, and jbar^ti in human mi/eries. Mr. Pept . more Uly fles, Circe, the Otjler and Mole. 2 5 more than a fupcrfiuity of moifture, which fo delicate a creature as a horfe is, may well be fubject to. And even according to the fuppofition, I dare fay, 'twas for fome mis- fortune that grieved him, that he muft leave a loved mafter, or a loving companion j and that it was never pretended that he has been feen to weep, like you, the minute he was foaled. But you have reafon enough for it, to think that you muft implore the afllftance of fome good-natured nurfe, to fwaddle you as well as feed you, not having it in your power to fupply yourfelves with what is ne- ceflary to your fupport. And therefore to give you as little trouble as poflible, I for my own part declare, that I will fooner die as I am, than be gulled by your offer. Ul. I believe, Mole, I muft be obliged to repeat to you the fpeech I made to the Oifter, that the fame moment robbed you of your manhood and your fenfe together. Sure you muft be very ignorant, not to know what fort of creatures you are : If you were in- deed compleat in your kind, perfect animals, I would fay fomething to you. Mo/e. Why pray, what hinders us from being fo? Iff, What? 26 DIALOGUE I. VL What ? Why your friend there has neither the faculty of fmelling or hearing, or the power to move himfelf an inch. You, as I take it, are blind *, and what is worfe too, after being acquainted with what the pleafures of fight are ; by much the mod inftructive of all the fenfes. Mole. Hey day ! but how does this prove us to be imperfect ? That you are pleafed to call us fo I grant ; and perhaps we may be faid to be fo, in refpedt of thofe that have all the fenfes. But I don't underftand how we can properly be faid to be imperfect, un- lefs we were defective in any thing that be- longs to our own fpecies. Ul. But is it not better to have them all ? Mote. No; it would be no advantage to me, as a Mole, to be able to fee : Nor to the Oifter to be able to fee or hear, or to ramble up and down. Deal ingenuoufly with me ; can you conceive any other ufe in being able to ramble from place to place > befide the power of fetching what one wants? The proverb ia StuJtf, d. JX. Cap, XXXVII. ex Arijtotele,. W, Cer- Ulyfles, Circe, the Oijler and Mole. 2 7 VI. Certainly Nature gave it for no other reafon ; and therefore the old faying holds good, that all motion implies necejjity. Mole. And you think if you had every thing you wanted within your reach, you yourfelf fhould never ftir out of your place ? 07. Why (hould I ? Mole. What occafion then can the Oifter Jiave for locomotion, who is fupplied with every thing he wants as he fits flill ? So for the faculty of ftnclling ; what ufe could it be of to him, that has nothing to hunt after, but has every thing he wants brought home to him ? Thus I, who out of choice am al- ways underground, where I find myfelf per- fectly at eafe, what advantage would fight pray be to me ? 1/7. But one would be glad to have more than one has a mere neceffity for. Mole. Why ? efpecially if it be not fuit- Able to one's nature. For my part I have no more ambition to furpafs the perfeclion of my pwn kind, than you have reafon to wi(h for the luminous body of a ftar, or to envy bird the advantage of a pair of wings. 177. You fuppofe what would be highly inconvenient to fuch a creature as jnan. 2 8 DIALOGUE I. Mole. But if all other men were fo made you would think yourfelf hardly dealt with to be excepted. UL I believe it. Mole. And won't you believe that to be juft my cafe. If my brethren the Moles could all fee, I mould be uneafy for want of eyes j but as I am upon an equal footing with the reft, I beg to be no longer troubled with your propofition. I find I am perfect in my own kind, and what is more, perfectly eafy, and fo fhall endeavour to remain, without hazarding happinefs in a human form. Pro- bably you have fome bufinefs of your own 5 if not, don't hinder thofe that have j I can- not poflibly be longer abfent from fome few concerns under ground. Exit Mole. UL Am I awake ! or is this all imagina- tion ? If this be not a dream, yet I, however, can't be what I was : I am no more Ulyjfes. He could not be baffled thus, in proving to thefe two people fo plain a truth. UfyJ/es was famed for proving to the Greeks whatever he had a mind they mould believe. It mutt be fo then, that the fault muft be in them ; and it was my luck to meet two wretches not ca- pable of taking an argument. And, upon reflection, 'tis no great wonder if the Fifher- man UlyffeSjCirce, the Oifter and Mole. 29 man be no wifer than the Ditcher. So that I have no reafon to fufpedt the fame fucccfs with the reft of thefe creatures. For as they were of different profeffions and ranks in the world, it is not likely they mould all have the fame turn. But firft I muft go in queft of my Goddefs, and inform her of every thing that has palfed, and infift upon her promife, of having the privilege of examin- ing the reft ; for it would be barbarous to deprive others of the benefit of the propofal, merely upon the account of the ftupidity or obftinacy of a couple of blockheads. Exit Ulyffes.' CIRCE, 3 o DIALOGUE II. CIRCE. Translated from the Italian of JOHN BAPTIST GELLI, DIALOGUE II. Ulyffes, Circe, and the Serpent. -Circe. HAT report may we ex- pea, Ufyjfes, from your friends the Greeks ? Ulyfles. I have yet found-' ed none, except the two you fingled out ; whofe lives were fpent in two fuch miferable and laborious employments, that it is no fur- prize to find them averfe to accept of a pro- pofal that muft bring them back to fo much wretehednefs, Ulyfles, Circe, and the Serpent. 3 1 Circe. To prevent you from imputing fo odd a rencounter to mere chance, I frankly confefs it to be a fcheme of my own; to give you a little infight into the comforts and pleafures of low life, which are fo much the fubjed: of panegyrick among your writers. To convince you that the moft vile, and what you call the moft imperfect animals, prefer their prefent fituation, for reafons which they themfelves affigned. Ul. But ftill it muft prove them to have been the dulleft of all creatures, when they found themfelves miferable in one way of life, not to think of looking out for ano- ther. Circe. So far from it, that I think it mews greater management to be able to fuic one's felf to our own circumftances, be they what they will, than to endeavour to change them. As the dexterity of a gamefter is feen by making the beft of a bad cart, which {hews his fkill at leaft, if not his luck : So if a wife man can't command Fortune, he will take care to leave as little in her power as poflible. Ul. Circe underftands human nature too well not to know there is a wider difference between men, than between any other ani- mals 3 2 DIALOGUE II. mals of the fame fpecies. In fome you dif- cover fuch a compafs of knowledge, fuch a vivacity of imagination as may juftly rank them with the immortal Gods. In others you perceive fo poor a flock of ideas, and an apprehenfion fo very fluggim as levels them with the beafts. Which has made fome doubt if all may be faid to be endued with a rational foul. Whereas caft your eyes a- mong lions, bears, or what kind of brutes you pleafe, you will find the difference fcarce difcernible. And as for thofe two with whom I have had the pleafure to difpute, I take them to be of that clafs of people, who for want of judging what is good or bad for them, are always apt to fancy every condi- tion better than their own. Circe. If good or bad were to be difcerned by quicknefs of parts, or ftrength of judg- ment, I mould fay fomething for your opi- nion : But as experience is their only rule, that being a touchftonc that muft mew things to be juft as they are; the cafe is quite al- tered. But hold a moment ; here is another difputant for you ; I mean that Serpent, now he crofles the path, now fee ! he makes to- wards us. If I remember rightly, it was a Greek I changed into that fhape, He per- I haps Ulyfles, Circe, and the Serpent* 33 haps will anfwer more to your fatisfaction than the former two. However for the pre- fent I give him power to converfe with you. W. I fancy he knows we are talking of him, by his keeping his eyes fo fixed up- on us. Circe. It may be fo; do you try him whilft I withdraw a little to join , the nymphs who are diverting themfelves, I fee, upon the fhore. W. I confefs myfelf in the main fo well entertained with the two laft creatures, that though I could not carry my point with therrij I am refolved to try my luck once more 5 fo> Serpent, I fay, Serpent, there* Serpent. What wouldft thou have, UfyJ~ fes ? But oh ! unhappy me. Do I then un- derftand, and do I fpeak ? Sure I am relapf- ing into manhood ! Oh! forbid it all ye powers* Ul. What reafon canft thou give for all this horror, at the thoughts of being what thou waft? I prefume the miferable condi- tion of thy former life. Serf. Oh! no, 'tis the ftate itfelf; 'tis humanity itfelf I dread. The fad receptacle of all woe: D Ul. I 34 DIALOGUE II. Ul. I begin to doubt if my prefent expe- riment will prove more fuccefsful than the former. But Serpent, once for all, I charge thee hear me. Know then, the Goddefs, weaned by my entreaties, has given me full power to unbind the charm that holds thee metamorphofed. And, as thou art a Greek, I make thee here an offer of the ineftimable grant. Serf. If you have that love for me you pretend, I beg you to make the tender where it may be more acceptable. All my ambi- tion is, to end my days juft as I am. I mould be glad to oblige you j but really it would be making too foolifh a bargain, to change cir- Cumftances with one of you. Ul. Your reafon. Serp. I thought you had reafons enough given you to day already. U7. Alas ! the two wretches I difcourfed with, were creatures of fo bafe a condition, and fo poor an education, that 'twas impof- fible to pay the leaft regard to any thing they faid. Serp. And yet even thefe, you fee, could give you reafons for not accepting your offer. Ul. Why, one of them, you muft know, who was a poor fimerman, could not bear 2 the Ulyffes, CircCj and the Serpent. 35 the thoughts of having his lodgings always to feek, whilft the reft of the creation has them ready provided. This creature in holes and burroughs, that in bufhes or upon trees j one always in the water, others on land and wa- ter indifferently. The othetj who was a hufbandman, dreaded the thoughts of re- turning to his labour ; and except the ground be kept in perpetual exercife, by manuring and fowing; he found it produced nothing for man's ufe^ as it did for all other animals in the world. Serp. And 1^ who hi the days of* my hu* inanity was a phyfician, {hall make my 6\>- jeftion againft a caufe of mifery of a fuperior nature. Mifery above the power of art to redrefsj and grievances not, like theirs, to be remedied by agriculture} defects not to be fupplied by architecture. Ul. Name them. Serp. I mean the pcornefs of your cdrifti- tutions, which fubjecls you to fuch a" lift of difeafes, that you can never be faid one mo- ment of your lives, like one of us^ to be perfectly in health: Are never fo fecure as not to be in danger from every little excefs of catehing a diftemper. r> A W. this, 36 DIALOGUE II. VI. This, as I told the other two, muft of neceffity be fo; as Nature intended in us to carry on her operations in a very fubtle manner ; which could not be effected, if we were, compofed of more clumfy materials. If our humours had been infpiffated, our blood heavier, and our texture coarfer, as it is with you. Serp. Say rather, 'twas to confirm you the moft crazy puny wretches in the univerfe. VI. Well, granting our fituation to be as ticklifh as you reprefent it; you can't deny us to have a fuperior judgment, to avoid what may prove injurious to us. Serp. In fome meafure I confefs it, but 'tis fo very tedious, that you find few are at the pains to exercife it. But to prove that this happens out of the 'mere fpite Nature owes you, me has at the fame time given you an appetite fo infatiable, and a will fo ungo- vernable, that you are ever inventing new dimes j and if one chances to hit your liquor- ifh palates, you give yourfelves wholly up to gluttony without reflraint; or at leaft are with the greateft difficulty kept within the bounds of only fatisfying nature : which muft lay in a magazine ot fuch different and dan- gerous difeafes. 2 (//. Pray Uly fles, Circe, and the Serpent. 3 7 VI. Pray what is the food you allude to, which Nature herfelf does not point out for our fuftenance ? Serf. How can you afk the queftion? when you know it to be of infinite forts. But to be particular, I mean all that you employ to give a relim to other things, which at the fame time are not themfelves fingly eatable j fuch as fait, pepper, and the whole tribe of aromaticks. VI. Now for my part, I always thought the reverfe, and received it for an acknow- ledg'd truth, that fait was abfolutely necef- fary to preferve the life of man. Serp. If there be any truth in the notion, it only proves, that you have fuch a redund- ancy of humours through intemperance, as to demand fo great a drier to abforb them. Whereas were the food fimple, and the quan- tity moderate, it would not find too much moifture to feed on. But the fact is, that thefe things, by heightening the tafte, fo pro- voke the appetite, that people are more in- tent upon humouring their palates, than of fatisfying their flomachs. The confequence of which muft be, that fuch mixtures muft inflame a thirft not to be quenched but by a profulion of liquor much too great for Na~ P 3 ture 38 DIALOGUE II. ture to difppfe of; which lays in a {lore for catarrhs, defluxions, apoplexies, gouts, and rheums. Not to mention a thoufand other diftempers that ufualjy fucceed, not to be carried off but by ftrong evacuations, and yet none of thefe things fall to our lot. //. Why, truly, fo far J own there is fomo truth in what you fay. Serp. Now fee how differently, out of pure affection, me has dealt with us ! We have no unruly appetites to crave what is not proper for us. We never exceed in quanti- ty; neither have we art enough to vary our food, or to make fuch fallacious mixtures, as (hall provoke defire where there is nq hunger. Don't you obferve farther, that in order to allure you effectually to your de-? ftruction, you are ternpted to mix with your food fuch things as are properly the objects of another fenfe, the fmell ? I mean the per- fumes you make ufe of as ingredients in your compofitions : of which, that you may not be top proud, give me leave to tell you, that they are no very cleanly part of feme of us. Whereas we find no pleafure from that fenfe but what our meat yields, and that only as long as we are eating juft enough for our fupport. Ui. The Ulyfles, Circe, and the Serpent. 39 UL The reafon of this feems to be, that as man has a larger quantity of brain than any animal, in proportion to his fize, and that you know is naturally of a cold tem- perament; me has put it in our power to in- vigorate and warm it by perfumes, which have a hot quality, in order to affift her in performing the functions of the internal fenfes, for the fervice of the underftanding. And much obliged to her we are for this ad- vantage which (lie has given us over you, who are infenfible of any delight from o- dours, but what fleam immediately from your food. Serp. Shall I tell you the plain truth? Why then it is yet a doubtful point with me, whether your excellency that way be a Teal advantage or a misfortune to you, there be- ing fo many bad fmells to- be met with for one good one. Or perhaps perfumes, after all, may not be improper for thofe who fill themfelves with grofs humours, that mull produce orTeniive fmells. Another argument of the debility of your make, fubjecT:, nay doomed, as I faid, to fo many infirmities, that are not fo much as known to us j they reckon up, I think, above fifty different dif- orders incident to the eyes alone. D 4 W. Allow- 40 DIALOGUE II. Uj. Allowing it, yet we have the means at hand to remedy them all. &erp. Pray from whence ? 1/7. From phyfick ; and for the truth of this I appeal to yourfelf as a proper judge in the cafe, being, as you profefs, one of the faculty. Serf. This is the point I have been la- bouring to bring you to ; becaufe in this I eileem mankind the moft unhappy race upon the earth. UL You'll tell us why too, I hope. Serp. Becaufe I am firmly of opinion, that phyfick does much more harm than good in the world. Nor is this my private opinion alone, the whole world feems in a great meafure to give into it. You know there are whole ftates in Greece, that have both banimed the doctors, and put down their trade. VI. Why fo? can you deny that phyfick is one of the feven liberal arts ; that it has truth for it's object, and the benefit of man-* kind for it's end? This you muft allow, un lefs you are apt to decry what perhaps you never underftood. It being very common, when people are ignorant of a thing, to pre- tend that it is not, to be known j by which they in fome meafure bring others down to a level with themfejves. Serf. Ulyfles, Circe, and the Serpent. 41 Serp. I mall not go about to deny it to be an art, real, beneficial, and worthy of all efteem. Neither (hall I diflemble that I was ignorant in the art, in the fame fenfe that the reft of my brethren of the faculty were. But as far as it is to be underftood, my fkill was fo great, and my reputation fo well efta- blifhed, that I was always named with the firft Phyficians in all Greece. You yourfelf (hall be my witnefs, who could not but have heard a thoufand times of the famed jigeji- mus of Lejbos. VI. Art thou that famous Lejbian ? And .art thou Agefimus, or mail we fpeak more properly, and call thee his ghoft? Serp. I am the very he. You muft know then that I embarqued for the fake of travel- ling, and in my voyage arriving at this ifland, with the whole crew, was transformed as you now fee me. Ul. Then let me blefs the fortunate ren- counter, that gives me an opportunity of converfing with a perfon whofe fame is yet fo frem amongft his countrymen. Why this will indeed fecure my welcome to the Greeks, that I have been able to recover to them a man of fuch confequence, Serp. You 42 DIALOGUE II. Serp. You talked of reafoning clofely, but are wander'd very wide of it : But to pre- vent all fuch interruption, I declare before- hand, that I will never confent to your pro- pofal. And that you may fee I have not taken up this refolution rafhly, to refume our difcourfe, I aflert, that phyfic may be confidered two ways. Firft, as a fcience ; and as fuch it is undoubtedly certain and con- clufive; becaufe fhe is converfant only about univerfals, whofe effences being eternal and immutable, they can never deceive us in drawing confequences. And this being the knowledge of things by the relations they ftand in, it is juftly called a fcience, as be- ing an objecl: of fpeculation, whofe fole and ultimate end is to lead to the truth. In this light many may be faid to underftand phy- fic 5 and I myfelf will venture to profefs that J knew my fhare of it. But it may alfo be conlidered as an art ; now all arts be- ing, as you know, grounded upon expe^ rience, as fuch it is very fallacious. And that it is fo t the phyficians themfelves are ready to allow, when they tell us, that even experiments * themfelves, in this art, aro * This feenis to be the right fenfe of that aphorifm of Hipocrates, y el ort^a er^aX^ij. very Ulyfles, Circe, and the Serpent. 4 3 very deceitful. This then is of the active kind, which has practice for it's end, and particulars for it's object. And here our knowledge comes very fhort, as every day's experience abundantly proves. UL If you were fo ignorant in the practical part, to what do you impute your own vaft reputation ? Serf. To the folly of other people j for, let me tell you, men feldom mind what you, do, if you have but art enough to impofe upon them by what you fay. C/7. Well! furely mankind is under the fatality of being very fhort-fighted, in things that concern them moft. Serf. And above all things, fo, in what concerns their health, through the immode- rate defire of living on. This I think is evident from their rewarding our blunders, which they would punifti in any other fet of men. And thofe too are fo notorious, and fo monftrous, that it would be bad for us, fays a wife man, if the earth were not al- ways ready to cover our miftakes. I think they tell ye of the fame philofopher, that being afked one day how he came to enjoy fo uninterrupted a ftate of health? Becaufe, fays he, / new r hire a Phvfician to d?ftroy it. V!. That 44 DIALOGUE II. UL That other great countryman of ours was exactly in the fame way of thinking, who ufed to fay, that A good DoEtor never phyfaks hintfelf. Serp. Well; but go on, let us hear that other wife obfervatibn of his. 177. Which do you mean? Serp. That A good advocate is never fond of ftanding a law-fuit. But, what is ftill worfe, in order to keep up the reputation of the farce, they will pretend that they really do take phyfic themfelves. So you mail fee them go very formally to the apothecaries, and prefcribe for themfelves j after that, all the world may fee it carried very gravely to their houfes; but they'll take care that no body fhall fee them throw it out of the win- dow: and this has been pradifed to my knowledge. Ul. As for that, I am not at all furprized, fince our whole life is nothing but the cir- culation of thofe tricks that each man plays upon another. Serp. True; and then you may be fure, that men will take care to, lay on thofe cheats the thickeft, the belief of which brings moil profit to the actors. Ul You Ulyffes, Circe, and the Serpent. 45 1/7. You fee therefore, and indeed the obfervation is very old, that the confidence which the patient has in his Phyfician, very often does him more fervice than the pre- fcription : Now he that knows beft how to impofe upon him, will always gain moft confidence. Serp. I myfelf am an inftance of it j and know, that a glib perfuafive knack of talk- ing, efpecially among the ladies, (whofe good word raifes more Doctors than their {kill) got me the reputation you are pleafed to compli- ment me with. But to return ; you fee they have not a clear notion of what they are about, becaufe you find them frequently huddling together many remedies for one fin- gle complaint. UL No! why I thought their putting many ingredients together, was a proof of their greater knowledge in the art. Serf. Quite the reverfe; becaufe he that gives many medicines for one diforder, de^- monflrates that he does not know it's true proper fpecifick. For as all effects are pro- duced from one fimple principle naturally, though the like may proceed from the con- currence of many caufes accidentally, (as heat, for example, is the natural effecl: of fire, though 46 DIALOGUE It though it may be produced accidentally from the friction of folids, the fermentation of fluids, or the like) thus every illnefs has it's proper remedy, which he that knows will infallibly cure. So that when you fee a Phy- fician loading his patient with many reme- dies, you may fafely fay, that man does not know the true one, but is feeling about for it, and if he has luck on his fide, for ought I know, he may hit on it. VI. Aren't we then in a bleffed condition when we fall into your hands ? Serp. You fee how it is ; and therefore? many will tell you, 'tis better depending up* on a lucky Phy fician than a learned one. UI. What do you mean by a lucky Phy- fician ? Serp. One that fends the major part of his patients well out of his hands. For that man properly may be called a lucky man, that has had fuccefs in the major part of his actions. Nay if the numbers are equal, OF only pretty near upon a balance, I think he may be faid to be of the fortunate fide. Be- caufe, as I faid, the application of univerfals to particulars is fo very nice a thing, that the patient, as well as the Doctor, muft have good luck if he does no mifchief. Ul. What Ulyfles, Circe, and the Serpent* 47 VI. What a fcene have we here opened againft mankind, and their avarice; which prompts them, for the fake of a little gain, to undertake they know not what? Serp. Right; but for much more againft Nature, that has be,en fo careful of us, and fo negligent of you, by giving you a delicate conftitution with an irregular appetite, and to finim all, has inftrudted you in the art of phyfic, which, upon the footing it now is, I affirm again, does much more harm than good in the world. //. But how has Nature provided better for you in this point? Serp. Both by a firm texture, and regular inclinations ; which have not fo much as the leaft hankering after what may be pernicious to us. And then againft accidents has furnimed us with a much more certain rule for the re- covery of loft health. Ul. This is fo very extraordinary a pofi- tion, that I hope you can prove it better than by a bare aflertion. Serp. As for the goodnefs and ftrength of our make 'tis fo obvious, that I fhall not take up your time by infifting on it. Then to fhew how orderly our appetites are, con- fider, pray, firft the fimple nature of our diet, 48 DIALOGUE II. diet, and that you mall never fee one of u3 difcover the leaft inclination but to the very food calculated for us : Nor to that neither, but in fuch quantities as are neceffary for our fupport. Whereas with you the whole is reverfed; you are fupplied with an infinite variety of eatables, and all bad for you ; then as to the quantity, when you are thoroughly pleafed, you know no bounds but the power of eating no more. VI. In this I grant you have the advan- tage of us. Serp. What fhall I fay as to liquors? that whilft we never exceed the quantity abfo- lutely necefTary to life, you give yourfelves up in fo diflblute a manner to the pleafurcs of wine, that befides the fcandal of drunk- ennefs, you may afcribe to it a thoufand dif- ferent diftempers. 1/7. This is a fubjecl: that I fancy you had better drop; becaufe Nature has herein ma- nifeftly given us the preference, fince it was for us alone me provided that precious li- quor. Serp. I allow it, if me at the fame time had given you proper limitations in the ap- plication ; but upon the prefent eftablimment, 'tis juft like the grant of a thing much more likely Ulyfles, Circe, and the Serpent. 49 likely to do harm than good, to one that has neither difcretion nor temper in the ufe of it. UJ. You may rail 'till you are tired againft wine, without making me a convert. Serf. Your gallantry is flill more fatal t'ye : How many deaths may we impute to it? Whilft Nature is too fond to leave us in this refpect without reftraint. Our times for purfuing it are ftated, and thofe too with a due regard to our own health, and a proper leafon for the education of our young. Ul. Are there none then amongft you un- der the perpetual influence of this paflion ? Serp. If there are any, 'tis only fuch as you have adopted into your fervice, and in- ftru&ed in your own manners. For your domeftick animals are the greateft breeders. But let us pafs to the next topick of fo much account in the fcheme of health, and con- fider a little the nature of the air. The quality of which is of fo great importance, aS our bodies are filled with it in every act of breathing. Now where did you ever find one of us in a climate improper for us, un- lefs we have been forced thither by fome of you. Whilft out of avarice, or a hundred other motives, you quit the place defigned E for 5 o D I ALOGU E II. for you to catch your deaths in a foreign region. UL This is not to be denied. Serp. As for fleep, diet, and the other necefTaries of life, 1 mall avoid fpeaking to them, becaufe I know you are already con- vinced that you don't endeavour to make a proper ufe of them; which depends nei- ther upon art or fancy. Whilft we who fol- low Nature in them all are from thence, you fee, UlyJ/es, fubjecl: to fo few infirmities, and even for thofe few that are incident to us, we are each of ourfelves directed to it's proper cure. UL And is this certain? Serp. As certain as fate : And this fingle point is fufficient to determine the difpute before us. Since each fpecies of animals is inftrucled in a cure for the diftempers to which it is liable. And that not only the fpecies, but each individual in it. UL I proteft now you make me flare. Serp. If it feems fo ft range to ye, I would not have you reft fatisned with my bare word for it. Let us begin to examine at home, and you will find amongft us fcr- pents, that each of the kind, as foon as a- waken'd by the fpring, perceiving his {kin ftarky Ulyffes, Circe, and tie Serpent. 51 ftarky and rivelled, by lying the whole win- ter folded up in one pofition, makes directly to the finochio, and crams himfelf with it, till it makes him with eafe caft his old flough* When our light is impaired; we have imme- diate recourfe to the fa me plant , which pre- ferves in us fuch a ftrength of vifion, Have not the lizards recourfe to a certain herb, with which they cure themfelves when flung by one of us? The wounded *ftag flies im- mediately to the dittany : And when bit by the phalangiitm, which is a very veno- mous kind of fpider, they know how to cure themfelves with -f- crawfifli. The fwaU lows || when they perceive a humour coming * This is generally faid of the wild goat : So Virgi jEneld. XII. 412. Nan ilia feris incognita Cafris Qramjnff. cum tergo -value yes beef ere fagiit&i Tbeepbraftus, Plutarch, and Cicero fay the fame thing. So/us Plinius hanc proprietatcm Cer-vis ftfcribit ait Camerarius . \ This renicJy feems to lye fo little in the itag's way, that to juiHfy him, it may be ncceflary to (hew that Qppiait fays the fame thing, Cc'rvos ita affecto; fluvids petere, ibi can* cellos comcdantei fibi MtdiciHAm fdtire. What itrcngth does it give to the comparifon, if we kippofe the PfalmiiVs Hart un- der thefe circumftances, (hji/iing the water breaks, viS. by Nature hot, burnt up by a thirll from the climate, the fea- ion, and the foil, inflamed by invenomed wounds, and im- pelled by inftinft to feck a curej as well as hurried by appe- tite to find a rdpite to his agonies ? || Celandine, called Hintndinaria, quiet ftilicei birundincs k;iw; herluf futSQ iddii medcritur. Skin. Didt. Etym. 2 in 52 DIALOGUE II. in the eyes of their young ones, know how to cure them by celandine. The tortoife cures our bite with hemlock. The J weafel, be- fore he enters the lift with the rat, fortifies himfelf with rue for the combat. The flork recovers himfelf with origanum j the wild boar with ivy. Does not the elephant de- fend himfelf againft the poifon of the came- leon with olive leaves ? The bear makes ufe of ants to roufe him, after having eaten greedily of your fleepy mandrakes. The rock pigeon, blackbird, and partridge, purge themfelves with laurel j the tame dove-turtle, and the hen with chick weed. The dog and the cat make themfelves foluble by fwallowing quitch-grafs fopped in dew. But not to tire you with too much natural hiftory, fingle out what fpecies of animals you pleafe, and you mail find them fupplied with the {kill to remedy the particular difeafe to which they are fubje6t. Nor is this knowledge given to whole focieties, but to each individual con- tained under them ; fo that we are faved the pains of learning our art from others, are J Thefe are Arijlotlis words, only the fcrpent is put in- ftead of the rat. Arijl. Lib. IX. Hi/}. Anim. Cap. VI. Muftcla who muft feem to be ignorant of nothing, don't know it. For our own parts, we are fatisfied with our knowledge upon that head. 1/7. Thou art fo great a coward that eve- ry thing affrights thee : Thy whole truft is in thy feet, and they betray thee to whole fpccies of animals, that are in combination to purfue thee. Hare. What is that to me as an indivi- dual, if our whole fpecies be liable to the fame ? 177. Then your lives are fo precarious, that every flight injury puts an end to them. Hare. I beg of you no more j nor endea- vour to fhew me the want of that know- ledge which, if I had, would render me the moft unhappy creature in the world : So pray make your offer where it may be more wel- come, which I afTure you will find no ac- ceptance here. In the mean time, as I al- ways follow the impulfe of Nature, I muft obey Ulyfles, Circe, and the Hare. 5 obey her fummons to the delicious pafturage of the inviting verdure upon yonder rifing grounds. W. I muft tell thee, Hare, thou putteft me ftrongly in mind of a fcoundrel, who being caft into prifon for his debts, and find- ing himfelf without any trouble fupported by the goal maintenance, made intereft with his creditors, not to drag him from a place fo agreeable to his indolence. What could this be owing to but the moft abjedl bafe- nefs of mind ? Or who would not prefer a life of liberty, with all it's inconveniency, to the greateft affluence in a coop? For a manly prudence is never fo properly exercifed as in providing againft the accidents to which Nature fubjedls us. So that in thy ftate of manhood, I collect thou muft have been both a mean and unreafonable creature, not to be able to confront the troubles which the World and Fortune throw in our way j and confcquently, loveft the though tleflhefs of a Brute, better than the active wifdom of a Man. So I leave thee to enjoy it, rather than force thee, contrary to thy inclinations, to a change that would prove a fcandal to our fpecies j as every one is, that is bafe c- nough to think like thee. G 3 Hare. 86 DIALOGUE III. Hare . I could eafily anfwer all this found- ing harangue. But as we are by Nature re- trained from exceeding her demands, 6 are we neceffitated to fatisfy her cravings, when proper food is provided for us. And as that beautiful herbage has ftruck my eye, from the hill that rifes there over-againft us, and I find myfelf hungry, I muft beg to take my leave. Exit Hare. CIRCE. Ulyfles, Circe, and the Goat. 87 C IRC E. Tranllated from the Italian of JOHN BAPTIST GELLI, DIALOGUE IV. Ulyffes, Circe, and the Goat. ' Ufoffes. $jBllJ&jJi& Always thought, illuftrious Queen, that Man differs much from Man, as our Greek proverb has it, but could not have fufpefted the difference to be fo wide, if I had not difputed with the Hare you prefented me to j or to fpeak more pro- perly, with him whom you changed into that fhape. G 4 Circe. 88 DIALOGUE IV. Circe. Why? Pray has he a mind to be changed back again ? 177. The fartheft from it in the world : He received my propofal with greater detefta- tion than any of the reft. Circe. I hope you are now convinced, how vain your forrow was, that I had thus transformed your friends. Ul. No, I aflure you, I lament them more than ever j being more confirmed in my notion, as it is evident to me, that this wretch's cowardice and puullanimity hinders him from difcerning the truth. Would you believe it ! that he was naturally of fo bafe a fpirit, and fo averfe to any little trouble, that he rather chofe to live in the moft ab- ject flavery, void of care, than to enjoy the moft honourable poft, attended with the bu- fmefs that is infeparable from it ? Circe. Who told you fo much of him ? 177. Himfelf ; by preferring the life of a beaft, merely becaufe men fce'med to him to be fubject to fome trouble. Though at the fame time he could not help owning, that he was under fo ftrong a biafs from Nature, and fo powerfully neceflitated by her influ- ence, that he was not mafter of his own actions. For finding himfelf in the midft of Ulyffes, Circe, and the Goat. 89 of our difpute difpofcd to cat, and feeing I know not what herb, which he faid was pro- per for him, he left me abruptly, quite un- anfwered, and forely againft his will ; de- claring that he muft obey the call of Nature which directed him to it. And yet to prove to you how mean a wretch he muft have been, he choofes to continue in the ftatc of flavery, rather than to be reftored to man- hood, and the government of thcfe tyran- nick paffions. Though he could not but have heard of the many noble examples of our illuftrious countrymen, fo celebrated by Fame, for having freely facrificed their lives, rather than lye under any flavery or con- jftraint, and yet have never efteemed it a dif- grace to have ftruggled with Fortune and the World. Circe. What you call force or flavery is to him neither the one nor the other. UL Howfo? Circe. Becaufe his nature requires it. When a ftone defcends towards the center, does it act under any force ? UL I mould anfwer that I thought not. Circe. And yet it can't act otherwife. VI. True : But as it's nature required it; the motion by which it proceeds in that di- rection, go DIALOGUE IV. rection, arifing from an intrinflck power and 1 an internal principle, does it no violence ; becaufe all violence is what is differed from fome exterior power, which can by no means be faid to happen to the ftone, in the motion you defcribe ; fo that though it cannot but act as it does, it cannot be faid to fuffer any violence. Circe. However it is true, that it is at- tracted towards the center by the force of it's own gravity. UL Not by the force, but by the nature of it's own gravity; it being natural to it to gravitate, which if it did not, it would not be a ftone. Circe. This is juft the cafe with the pro- penfions of mere animals, under the influence of their proper nature, which can't be called force, as it acts always for the beft for them, and what moft effectually tends to their pre- fervation and perfection. UL But would it not be better to be above the reach of this influence, and be able to act ablblutely free? Circe. Quite the reverfe ; becaufe having no tmderftanding, which is the refult of rea- foning, they would be perpetually (unlcfs thus controlled) led into miftakes, which, as matters now ftand with them, feldom or never happens. UL What Ulyfles, Circe, and the Goat. 91 VI. What proof have you of this? Circe. Experience ; for though there be a famplc of every fpecies within the narrow compafs of this little ifland, which confe r quently muft fall under my daily notice, I can't charge my memory with having ever obferved any of them diforder'd, from either an undue quantity, or an improper kind of food. Whence, though a fhorter term of life falls to their mare, yet they get to the end of it healthy and vigorous, which is more than you dare boaft of. 77. If they are fubjecl to none of thefe diforders, how comes it about that their life is fhorter than ours ? Circe. From their constitution ; which is not fo well mixed as. your's. The radical moifture, which is the fupport and food of life, beifcg more impregnated with water, and participating lefs of the nature of air j fo that it is more eafily difpofed to corrupt. I mean in general, though there are inftances of animals, fuch as the elephant and the flag, that are much longer lived than you. Ul. And are you ferioufly of opinion, that it is better to be a Beaft than a Man? Circe. I never faid fo much, nor have you any reafon for drawing the inference. If 9 2 DIALOGUE IV. fo, pray why don't I change myfelf into one ? But if I muft take the fame fide of the queftion with you, converfation drops of courfe. Let it fuffice, that you have full commiffion to make your offer to any that will accept of it, and if you are refolved not to be too foon difcouraged, who knows but you may find fome one that will at length clofe with it? UL I am refolved then, it being a re- flection upon a man to have defined coward- ly from a brave enterprize. Circe. If fo, then call to the Goat that browzes there, who, as I remember, was a Greek. UL Attend, you Goat, for Circe tells me that thou art a Greek. Goat. I was fo, when I was a Man, my name Cleotnenes of Corinth: But I am no longer fo; and what's more, will ne'er be fo again. UL What, afhamed of your country \ Corinthian ? Goat. How can that be, when there is not upon earth a more honourable city? UL What is it then that you are fo re- folutely bent againft ? Goat. Ulyfles, Circe, and the Goat. 93 Goat. Againft returning to manhood. This is the only fear that remains with me ; fo much more happy am I in my prefent than in my former ftate. UI. I was juft going to make you an in- eftimable offer, of no lefs than that of re- iloring you to your former figure, of extri- cating you from this ftate of flavery, and of being your convoy to your native country. Goat. I am obliged to you for any good intention ; but I fear, that in this cafe the fact would prove the reverfe of the promife. VI. How is it poffible, good Cleomenes, when I have often heard our Grecian fages defend this proportion, you are excufed from, who enjoy i o6 DIALOGUE IV. enjoy every thing in common. But then the mutual ties of friendfhip, which we alone can boaft of, give us fufficiently the advan- tage of you: Friendfhip, that beft of all the world's good things, by which we commu- nicate not only a mare of all outward blef- fings, but a part of our cares too. Goat. And will any man pretend to deny that there is not fuch a thing as friendship fubfifting amongft us, when it is found flou- riming not only among thofe of the fame but of a different fpecies ? As for example, the friendship is very remarkable between the turtle and the parrot, the peacock and the pigeon, the flag and the buck, and the like. UL This I can never admit ; becaufe friendship muft be founded on truth and vir- tue, and I cannot allow you to have any no- tion of either: So that thofe combinations that appear amongft you, directed to fome felfim end, are rather compacts and confpi- racies than friendships ; what you call fo, are rather natural inclinations, whereas what we honour with that title muft be founded upon approbation and choice, which cannot be your cafe. Goat. If you won't allow us any friend* (hip, I hope you won't allow us any flattery neither, Ulyfle?, Circe, and the Goat. 107 Neither, which does as much mifchief as ever th~ other did good. I//. And yet whoever makes ufe of his reafon, cannot have the one impofed upon him for the other. Goat. But the flatterer appears fo like the friend, that I fancy your reafon will often be puzzled to find out the difference. Take no- tice that flattery addreffes itfelf to your felf- Jove, which will prejudice the ftrongeft judg- ment. . UL I grant it; and as the defire of praife is of the party, thefe will make a formidable alliance : Both propofe the fame end, to pleafe you ; the flatterer in the funfhine of your fortune, and the friend ftands by you in the time of need. Though I grant you, that it is a melancholy cafe to be driven to this proof, yet he who coolly confiders, will long before make the diftindion. Goat. If it be fo eafy, pray (hew us a lit- tle how ? UL There are many charaderiiticks, but the principal feem to be, that the flatterer refigns himfelf intirely to your manners, does as you do, changes his method with yours ; is in love with every thing you admire, and is mocked with every thing you diflike : whereas io8 DIALOGUE IV. whereas the friend is fteady, purfues his own honeft purpofes, and will drop you when you drop your integrity. The flatterer then is like the (hadow that always follows the body, and does what it does ; whilft the friend is like the light that fhines on every object but preferves it's own purity. The flatterer commends every thing you do, the friend only when you deferve commendation : The flatterer exaggerates every virtue, and dimi- nimes every vice, but the friend holds a true jnirror, that mews you both in their juft di- menfions. Goat. Proceed we to our laft reafon why we would not accept of your offer, which was out of a dread of your penal laws. Ul. And is it a reflection upon us, that we are governed by laws? Goat. No ; but the neceflity of them is a flanding proof both of the weaknefs and wickednefs of your nature ; for what greater demonftration of depraved appetites and diffo- lute inclinations ; discarding the remonftrances of reafon, and forcing you to take fhelter un- der a ilanding body of numerous laws, to com- pel you to keep within the lines of duty? U7, Let that be the wicked man's con- cern i but who does his duty out of a love to Ulyfles, Circe, and the Goat. 109 to virtue, need neither fear, nor even know the laws. Goat. And pray how many of thefe tradl- able virtuous Gentlemen are to be found a- mong you ? I prefume One might caft up the number of them, without going deep into Multiplication. Nay, were you fuch gentle manageable creatures, yet always to have your fenfes ridden with fo heavy a bit, muft be difagreeable enough. UL But what grows into a habit ceafes to be a fatigue. Goaf. How laborious muft the firft con- queft be when it is the nature of your ap- petites to be defirous of a thing, in propor- tion to it's being illicit? But we have no wi(h repugnant to our nature, take our full enjoyment, not only where, but when we pleafe, without having any remorfe from fear, or check from (hame. Ul. A glorious privilege truly ! not only to be exempt from the reftraint of laws, but the rules of decency. Goat. I can be very eafy under any reflec- tions upon a fubjedt of which I profefs to have no idea. I hope you will take this for a plain anfwer, that the liberty I now enjoy, is more endeared to me by comparing it with no DIALOGUE IV. with the flavery that I know you to be der. And what aggravates it is, to think that you brought moft of it upon yourfelves through folly or ambition ; I fay, that you have in many points tied up your hands- where Nature left you free ; fo that I declare, that I will not only not turn man again, but I do here renounce all dealings, all intercourfe with the fpecies. For even the very cattle in your fervice are involved in your quarrels : The beaft that commits the trefpafs muft fuffer in his own hide, becaufe of your fan- taftical diftribution of what Nature made common. But thofe that entered into fe> ridiculous a compact I think much more worthy of the ftripes, it being that alone to which you ought to afcribe all the frauds, contentions, and animofities that each day breeds among you ; which hinder you/ from, converfing with each other, as we do, with- out the fear of lofing the prefent good, or in- curring fome future evil. So that I wifli you? all the felicity to be met with, in a 'if ate a- bounding with miferiesj whilft I pafs the little remainder of life, at leaft without the fear of death, and that can only be done by continuing as I am. Exit. CIRCE. Ulyfies, Circe, and the Hind, nr CIRCE. Tranflated from the Italian of JOHN BAPTIST GELLI. gf +j * DIALOGUE V. Ulyfies, Circe, and the Hind. & id > dear Gfce, that truth begets hatred ; but furely to a noble mind nothing can be fo odious as faldioodj and nothing renders a perfon fo abhorred as a difcovery that his tongue holds no commerce with his heart. So that I am. determined ii2 DIALOGUE V. determined to difburthen my bread fincerely, though I hazard your favour by it. Circe. Let not the wife Ulyffes think me capable of being offended at the truth, which is always welcome to thofe that are able to bear it : So fpeak your thoughts fecurely. VI. Why then I muft own, I labour Un- der fome fufpicions, that you have not grant- ed to thefe creatures fo free a ufe of their underftandings as of their tongues. If hot, I muft complain that I think myfelf abufed. If otherwife, how is it to be conceived that they mould be unanimous in fo monftrous a proportion, That it is better to be a Bead than a Man ? Circe. Were the cafe as you ftate it, you would have reafon to charge me with a breach of promife, which is ever the effect of a weak head or a bad heart. And yet I affirm to you, that when you difputed with them they had the fame exercife of their intellec- tual faculties as when they were men. . Ul. Prodigious ! that they mould not be able to difcern fo broad a mark, when I fo plainly pointed it out to them. Circe. Who knows (which is nothing in- credible) but they find fome enjoyments > fome pleafures, unthought of by us ? But 3 come Ulyfles, Circe, and theHihd. 113 come onj boldly purfue your enterprize, all may not prove fo obftinate. And be allured, that as all the animals you fee have been men, what fhape foever they may bear, none of them will offer you any violence. Exit Circe. Ul. It Was a common faying with our wife men of Greece, that" *thofe whofe judg- .J**XEjf on than xj />Jo|er. fault Ulyfies, Circe, and the Hind. 123 fault in another place ; but a ftander by pull- ing him by the fleeve, told him, *' Friend, " don't go higher than the inftep, for all * c above that is beyond your province/' Hind. 1 am glad you will allow us any thing; for, generally fpeaking, your worfl word is too good for us. UI. How can that be, when we always honour you, and give you the preference. Hind. Never, in things of any confe- quence ; but perhaps as far as giving the upper hand at table, and a few foft appella- tions merely for your own fakes, whilft we have any beauty left to engage you. When that is fled, Heaven knows your behaviour towards us, both in words and deeds. VI. This is the height of ingratitude. Hind. As for fadts which are lefs generally known I mail fay nothing of them j but your words are too notorious to be duTembled. Is jt not a faying with you, common even to be a proverb, that " in Marriage there are but " two happy days ; the firft when the wife *' is led in, the fecond when fhe is carried k out ? " VI. Thefe are little freedoms of language that men of wit will indulge themfelves in, when they meet,, to divert the cares of life : But 124 DIALOGUE V. But I think their practice {hews that they don't exprefs their real fendments, there be- ing fo very few that do not fome time or other venture upon matrimony ; and thofe that never do, are looked upon as odd crea- tures at heft, and feldom efcape cenfure. Hind. And yet you can all be ready e^ nough to fay, u the Man that takes one Wife cc fhould bear the figure of Patience on his though they may hinder the operations of reafon, yet do not quite deftroy it. To clofe the argument, be pleafed to confider, that they who are afflicted with bodily pains only fufFer it, whereas thofe that are difor- dered in mind, are the people that do mif* chief to others. VI. Take care that you don't indulge your fufpicions too far j becaufe the authors of mifchief are commonly too private to have any witnefs to what they do. Lion. Examine a little into all the quar- rels and calamities that have plagued the world, and you will trace them up to thofo poifonous 144 DIALOGUE Vt poifonous fources, to ambition, envy, ava- rice, refentment, or fome fuch other difeafc of the mind of man ; which not only deprive it of the ufe of reafon, but render it fo tur- bulent as to let it know no reft itfelf, or to fuffer it in any body elfe. Nay, one 1 of thefe boifterous fpirits is fufficient, if he be of any rank or quality, to deftroy the peace of a whole community. Ul. Well, granting that the difeafes of the mind, according to your fuppofition, are more mifchievous than thofe of the body i Are none of you fubjecl: to any of thefe ma- ladies ? Lion. I anfwer no. U7. I hope you have confidered the point enough to inform yourfelf rightly, elfe I fhould conclude, that where there is no rea- fon to moderate the paffionSj they mufl be very unruly. Lion. If we have not the ufe of reafon^ (which I grant may be fufficient to controul the paflions in fome degree, though not al- together) you muft take with you alfo, that we have not fo much natural pervorlenefs, with which your reafon ftrikes in, fo as to heighten the diforders of the appetites; where-* $s ours are lefs unruly, merely for want of feeing Ulyffes and the Lion. 145 feeing things in the manner that you do. For inftance, what room can there be for ambi- tion where all are equally great, and where no flight or contempt can be patted on any one ? We acknowledge no head over us, nor are there any degrees of honour amongft us : Which are fuch alluring baits to you, that Right and Wrong lofe all diftinction in the eye of him that is in purfuit of them. Nay fome have been fo hardy as openly to avow, that if ever Juftice is to be difpenfed with, it mould only be when Empire is the object*. Envy can never have place among thofe of the fame fpecies, becaufe they are all equal ; nor amongft thofe of different kinds, becaufe as they know nothing one of another, they muft be ignorant of each other's happinefs. Neither can there be avarice, where there is no diftinction of property. The fame rea- fons hold good as to all other vices that ren- der human life fo wretched. Which made a wife man fay, that " the fole fuperiority " Man could reafonably boafl of, was a pre- * c eminence in mifery." * Co-far ufed frequently a verfe of Euripides > which ex- prefled the image of his foul, " that if Right and Juftice * were to be violated, they were to be violate.! for the f.\ke " of reigning." L HI. Very 146 DIALOGUE VI. VI. Very well j but fuppofmg that more evils attend us than you, there are alfo fome good things in which we as much excel you. Lion. Name them? U/. The virtues. Lion. Why then I dare aflert, that there is not one of thefe to be found amongfr, you that does not (hine more confpicuous and per- fect amongft us. UL You muft prove as well as aflert. Lion. I defire nothing more. Let us be- gin with Fortitude, by which, Ufyffes has ac- quired the glory to be ftiled that methinks I wiih I may find him a Greek. So tell me, gentle Horfe, what thou waft before thy change. Horfe. I was a Greek; but why ? UI. To let thee know that it is in my power to make a Greek of thee again ; to releafe thee from this enchantment, to re* ftore thee to thy country, and to the liberty of ranging through the world. Horje. This bargain will require more than two words; becaufe juft the fame ab- horrence that I felt in my ftate of manhood, at the thoughts of being turned into a brute M 2 animal, 1 64 DIALOGUE VII animal, I perceive now, upon your propofal for my being changed from a Horfe back into a Man. UL I muft beg your reafon for it ; be- caufe I muft own your proportion, fimply confidered, appears mocking to human un- derftanding. Horfe. My reafon is, becaufe as I am, I find fewer things to hinder me from enjoy- ing my eafe, and from attaining that perfec- tion and end which is agreeable to my kind and nature ; whereas when I was a man, I came very fhort of doing the duties of a man. VI. Sure you forget that you of all ani- mals are mod obliged to our amftance, and can make the worft fhift without our care. Horfe. How true that may be of thofe who when young, through your artful ca- reffes, might have been deluded out of the generous wildnefs natural to them I care not; but am certain, it is no argument to me, who never knew what reftraint was, but live as you perceive free, and range at my will, without fufpicion or fear. UL Have you any thing better to offer, why you refufe ? Horfe. I Uyfies, Circe, and the Horfe. 165 Horfe. I tbirk this fufficient, that we are lefs hindered than you, in acting agreeably to our nature. UL I mould be glad to hear how, for as yet I proteft I don't fee it. Horje. With all my heart. Why you muft know then, there are * two principal fprings of action, that hinder both you and us from doing what is fuitable to our refpec- tive natures. The firft is, the fear of what is difagreeable, and may prove injurious j the other the defire of what is. delectable, and may prove beneficial. Now thefe two frequently are a drawback upon as both, in the performance of our duty ; by laying a biafs in you upon the will, in us upon the appetite, ( our origin and fource of action.) diverting it under the idea of fear of what is hurtful, or attracting it under the notion of what is defirable. UL This wants to be a little explained. Horfe. Have a little patience, and it mall be done to your hands. The firft of thefe impediments, which is fear, robs us of that fortitude which prompts us through dangers to purfue what we ought, the other of our * Epifii-tus makes the whole of wifdom to confift in th,efe two things, eiyi^nii ^ uTfi^tH, i. c. to hear and to forbear. M 3 temperance 166 DIALOGUE VII temperance, which reftrains us from purfu- ing what we ought not. Now thefe two obftacles are lighter in our way than yours, becaufe our fortitude and temperance are ftronger. By the former we keep down that part of our appetite, which you call the ira^ fcible paffions, fo as neither to be too timo*- rous, or too confident : By the latter we fup-r prefs the paffions of pleafure, fo as neither to be hurried too violently to what delights, nor to be too foon daunted at what hurts. Thus by having the paffions of each kind more moderate, we meet with fewer diftrac- tions in performing the operations agreeable to our nature. Ul. I fhould have a very high opinion of your fkillj if you could prove thefe virtues to be found in greater perfection in you than in us. Horfe. As to Fortitude, the whole flteam of your writers runs in our favour. I mail not infift upon your poets who, as their chief aim is to give pleafure to their readers, may be allowed ibmetimes to * fay the thing that is not', but your hiftorians, whofe profeffion jt is folely to regard the truth. Now when This is a ftrift translation in Gzd/i r ver' > s Voyages of, Dirt cht non f, in Gelli. one Ulyfle?, Circe, and the Horfe. 167 one of thefe intends to raife the idea of his hero's valour, he compares him to ibme fuch beaft, as a furious lion or a fturdy bull *. But how would it found, in {peaking of one of us, if they mould lay, that he was valiant nay even as a man. This therefore, I hope, gives it clearly for us. Ul. You confound bodily ftrength with fortitude. Afide. This, I find already, was one of thofe that was never confcious of any plea" fuies but thole of the body. Horfe. And whence does ftrength of body proceed but from ftrength of mind ? Ul. From a mind rightly qualified to ex- ert it, I grant it does. Horfe. And where will you find this qua- lifkation to fo high a degree as in us, who have the mind lefs difturbed, as it is agitated by fewer pafiions ? Ul. What pailions can you name in us, not to be met with as well in yourfelves ? Horfe. I anfwer, all thofe that relate to things abfent or future. We regard nothing but what is prefent, without being fo fharp- * jEgyptii facer dotes cum fort em & temper atum Jignijicart vellent Taurum integne e valetudlnis pingunt, ait Orus. M 4 lighted 168 DIALOGUE VII. lighted as to torment ourfelves concerning what has not yet a being. UL Nor do we. Horfe. I aflert that you do, both by fear and hope ; fear of what dilpleafes, and hope of what invites ; which actually affects you with joy or forrow, and holds the mind in, fuch a ftate of diffraction or fufpence, fo as to render it unfit to perform it's functions duly. Now from thefe paffions flow all the reft. Proceed we now to our Temperance, which fecures us from thofe other impedi- ments to our duty, which arife from plea- furable objects. And who fo hardy as to deny us the preference in this virtue ? I mean as it relates both to joy or forrow. UL This I muft beg leave to do, as long as I find you more governed by the fenfes than we are. Horfe. And yet our practice {hall confute you, and experience be the demonflration. UL With all my heart. I defire no bet- ter proof. Horje. Now Temperance, as we have faid, relates both to joy and forrow. But Jjecaufe it is much more difficult to abflain from pleasures, than to behave decently un- Ulyfles, Circe, and tie Horfe. 169 der afflictions, I fhall confider the firft branch of it, and begin with the moft powerful propenfion to love. Now what animal in the world is guilty of fuch ridiculous mad- nefs upon this fcore, as you every day give proofs of ? Caft your eyes through Nature, and tell me, if after pregnancy* there be not an univerfal truce ? Betides, we never recede the leafl: title from our dignity, or ever degrade ourfelves, to make a compli- ment of our fuperiority to our females, like you, who take a pride in profeffing ypur- felves their flaves. How many of you, out of a wanton indulgence to this paffion, have diverted yourfelves of all regard to your di- flreffed families, (which we abhor) to your honour, your dignity, and fixed upon your- felves an everlafting difgrace, and fometimes the very extremity of poverty ? As for your authors, who publim their infamy in profe or rhime, and your wretches who have from this motive procured to themfelves an un- timely end, it would be tedious, as well as needlefs to touch upon them, as inftances of fuch every where abound. All that I {hall fay is, that having once perfuaded yourfelves f This alfo is tranflated by Captain Gu/iver. that 1 70 DIALOGUE VII. that beauty isfometbing divine* (a love and defire of which is always commendable ) from hence fprings the fallacy ; for you drefs up that phantaftical grace, which is the re- fult of due proportions, and well mixed co- lours, in all the attributes of heavenly beauty difcoverable in the Supreme Being, and lo you confound your human paffion with the defire of that excellency which is the per- fedtion of the human foul. I call it your human paffion, becaufe it neither rages fo in- ceflantly or furiouily in any other kind, but only at ftated times, for the prefervation of the fpecies. UL As if we had not feen you guilty of a thoufand freaks from the fame motive. Horfe. The worft that I dare fay you ever faw, is fome quarrels arifing from jealoufy, which is inieparable from the paffion. But this I choofe to pafs by, left it fhould offend you, confidering what horrid and mocking fcenes it now and then introduces amongft you. Read your hiftories, and you will find how many plots, confpiracies, treafons, mur- ders by iword, (and what is worfe) by poifon, have alarmed the world from that fingle * Jfocrates, in his panegyric upon Helen, fpeaking in praife of Beauty, fays, that " It is a thing of a divine nature."' caufe. Ulyflcs, Circe, and the Horfe. 171 caufe. So now I think it high time to leave this firft branch of Temperance, to confider it as fur as it concerns your food, in which I dare fay, you will find yourfelves excelled by every beaft favage or domeilick : Amongft them you will find none that exceeds the de- mands of Nature, or the kinds that (he al- lots them ; be it feed, herb, flem, or fruit. Whereas you, not content with any one fort of food, ran lack the world for variety, and after that call in the help of art, to make it what it never was intended to be, by which you are eafily drawn in to indulge to fuch a degree, as either to procure you a mort life, or a tedious decrepit old age. As for Drunk- ennefs, as it robs you of all the boafted fu- periority of reafon, I mall fpare your fhame, as you have been fo fevere upon yourfelves as to allow, that he who commits a crime through this vice, is worthy of double pu- nimment; the firft according to the quantity of the fault, the fecond for having fuffered himfelf to be deprived of his underftanding, which mould have guarded him againft it. J hope by this time you are convinced that we are more temperate than you, and that we are obliged to Nature for it, in giving us more of that virtue that is able to remove thofe i 7 2 DIALOGUE VII. thofe obftacles that hinder us from acting agreeably to Nature. Ul. I fhall not deny, that who obferves particular operations fimply, without refpect to any propofed end, will be apt to conclude, that you are more temperate than men, and yet I will undertake to demonftrate, that no- thing can be falfer than fuch a conclufion. For you muft know, that Temperance is an elective habit, acquired upon a wife choice, of which whofoever is pofleffed, he will not behave himfelf indecently under afflictions, or immoderately in pleafures : Though af- flictions are not fo much it's object as plea- fures, nor all pleafures alike : Thofe of the Mind, fuch as a defire of honour, thofe of the Underftanding, fuch as arife from in- tenfe fhidy, and the like, fall not under it's confideration : Nor all the entertainments of the Senfes neither -, He can never be called an intemperate Man, that indulges to never fo great a height in admiring pictures, fta- tues, and other objects of fight j much lefs Jie that amufes himfelf with mufick, vo- cal or inftrumental : Nor can the pleafures of the fmell fall under it's notice, unlefs from the ideas they raife ; as the dog enjoys the fcent of the hare, in hopes of eating him. Ulyffes, Circe, and the Horfe. 173 him. So that there remains but two of the fenfes, the touch and tafte, for this virtue to exercife itfelf about : Or more ftrictly, only the touch, the tafte being rather a branch of that fenfe than a diftinct one ; as that mon- fter* of a voluptuary, who fo far abandoned himfelf to the pleafures of wine, wimed that the Gods had beftowed on him a length of neck equal to the crane's, that he might enjoy the flavour of the draught longer, and improved too through fuch a tube. Horfe. What would you infer from thence ? VL Have a little patience and you mall hear. Why you muft know that man has the inftruments, or organs, of the fenfe of feeling in greater perfection than any other animal. . Horfe. How do you make that appear ? Ul. You mail fee. All organs and inftru- ments by which fenfation is performed, muft be wholly free and void of their objects j for it is abfurd to fay, that any thing can re- ceive what it had before. Thus, for inftance, the eye muft not be tinged with any parti- cular colour, nor the palate be pofTefled of any one original tafte j for then we fliould * Pbiloxenus. Arijt. Ethic. Lib. III. cap. IO. i fee i 7 4 DIALOGUE VII. fee as through a difcoloured glafs, or have a predominant tafte, as people complain that every thing feems bitter, in your bilious fe- vers. Horfe. This is very true j but I don't fee how it makes for your purpofe. U7. Now this can never be the cafe with the organs of feeling, which are either nerves, flefh, or fkin ; and as the objects of thefe are the primary qualities, fuch as hot, dry, cold, or moift, (anlwering to the four elements) it is impoffible the inftruments fhould be wholly free from thefe qualities. Horfe. How can thefe faculties then re- ceive thefe objects, if they have them al- ready ? Ul. Why they do only perceive the excefs or defect of what is in themfelves, /". e. dif- cern what is more hot, dry, cold, or moift than themfelves. Hence thofe that have thefe organs in the beft temper, muft be fen- fible of the more minute difference, and that muft be Man, who has his conftitution bet- ter mixed, as all agree, than any o'.her ani- mal. From whence it follows, as we have that fenfe more exquifite, we muft perceive higher pleafures from it than other animals can do. And as our pleafures are more ex- alted, Ulyffes, Circe, and the Horfe. 175 alted, it is no wonder if our defires of them are lefs moderate ; though I am far from granting that too. Horfe. But will you, again ft daily expe- rience, deny, that we do not fuffer ourfelves to be drawn aiide by thefe pleafures as much as you? Z77. I am ready to allow, that you abftain eafier from pleafures, and fufFer lefs from afflictions, but deny either to be the effect of Temperance. Horfe. But why? Ul. Becaufe, as I faid, Temperance is an elective habit, chofen upon a chain of right deductions. Now how can you be faid to have the Virtue, who have not the Reafon upon which it is founded ? Nor know how to fix the mediocrity in which it confifts, and whofe bounds cannot be tranfgreffed with fafety to the prefervation of the fpecies. For Nature has affixed certain pleafures to invite us, as well to take care of the individual as of the kind. But you can never be faid, like us, to have a freedom of choice, who are directed by Nature in all your actions. Horfe. Whence then arife thofe effects of Temperance, which, I hope, you will not deny to be found in us ? VJ. From i 7 6 DIALOGUE VIL III. From an Inftinct that Nature has im- planted in you, as being confcious how im- perfect your intelligence is, and how ill qua- lified you are to judge what would tend bed to your prefervation j and therefore me gave you a ftandard rule, that you mould not ex- ceed in any thing that might haften your dif-* folution. The fame care has provided, that as you are deflitute of reafon to moderate the paffionSj you mould not be fo ftrongly affected by them, as to let them be injurious to life. But ftill this is not Temperance, which upon choice defires, and rejects in a proper time and manner. Horfe. If the fame end be obtained, what is it to us whether it be by Nature or Teirn perance ? Ul. However it cannot follow, that it is better to be forced to a certain determi- nate point, than to move towards it free- ly, and upon choice. So return, return then, gentle Horfe ; be as thou waft, a Man, and let thy Country blefs thy fight with mine. Horfe. That is more than I can agree to; for though I may not be able to fupport my notions io well as you, it will by no means follow, that I don't perceive advantage e- nough Ulyfles, Circe, and the Horfe. ijf nough in my prefent ftate, not to refolye to continue in it. Ul. Nay, if you are fo invincibly obfti-' nate, I fhould recommend the fame thing to you : For certainly he is unworthy of any better ftate, that gives himfelf up fo impli- citly to the guidance of Senfe, as to be blind to the light of Reafom CIRC& 178 DIALOGUE Vllr. CIRCE. Tranflated from the Italian of JOHN BAPTIST GELLI, DIALOGUE VIII. Ulyfles and the Dog. ? Nature, (as our Grecian Sages tell us) wills that every creature fhould at- tain it's end and perfec- tion, why did fhe, at the fame time, give pur Senfes power to drag down to Earth our Thoughts j and to keep the Soul intent upon grofs objects, (which I dare fay was the cafe of Ulyfles and the Dog. 179 t> our Horfe) till the much greater number: of us degenerate into fomething approaching very near to the nature of beafts ? Now thefe, as they have their ultimate end upon Earth, have their eyes turned down towards it ; whereas Man has his face erect to Hea- ven, to remind him that his thoughts ought to be directed thither, to contemplate the nature of fpiritual Beings, which will raife him to a more exalted kind of happinefs than falls to the mare of mere Humanity. ^fids. But what can this poor Dog mean by coming up to me in this familiar manner ? See how he flops ! Surely this is in obedience to his Nature, which is fond of Man, and the fight of one in this place is a great rarity. I believe, nay, I may fay, I know (for it Was Experience taught it me) that me gave us more fenfes than are abfolutely neceflary, for our more comfortable fupport, and foi* the more exact information of our under- flanding* But then why, I afk, are thefe Senfes permitted, becaufe their objects are there, to weigh down to Earth our better part, which elfe would naturally be foaring up to Heaven ? N i8o DIALOGUE VIII. Afide. But fee how this Dog feems to look with pleafure on me ! And by his geftures one would think that he underftood every word I have been faying. I fay this permiffion could be granted for no other purpofe, but that the confideration of the difparity and difagreement between the parts of which we are compofed, fhould excite in us a greater care and circumfpec- tion. This gives our virtue a better oppor- tunity to exert itfelf; for difficulties not only prove, but ferve to ftrengthen and perfect It too. slfide. This Dog grows fo fond, that I mufl {peak to him. So^ come here poor beafh How loving and faithful is this crea- ture to Man ! Dog. Tell me, gentle Cavalier, if you are of Ithaca in Greece, as your accents feem to declare you ? UL I am a Greek, and Ithaca, as thou fayeft, is my Country, Dog. I gueffed fo by your dialed:, which every province has peculiar to itfelf. This made me ftop y overjoyed to meet a Country-- man j but pity foon fucceeded when I faW you .could not obtain the fame happinefs that is conferred upon myfelf. VI. What Ulyfies and the Dog. 181 VI. What happinefs ? Dog. Of being transformed by Circe like myfelf into fome beaft. Ul. D'ye call it happinefs to be changed from a Man into a Brute ? Dog. I do indeed, as I will anfwer for it you would too, if you could have obtained the fame benefit. If this does not of itfelf feem clear, have a little patience and I will prove it to you. Ul. With all my heart ; for I have been ufmg my intereft with Circe, to get you all turned back into Men, to redeem you from fo much wretchednefs, Dog. Firft, if you have no objection, may I crave your name, Ul. UlyJJ'es ; my firft employment was flu- dy, and after that J took to arms. Dog. I (hall with the greater pleafure con- verfe with you, as your time has been em- ployed in the two moft honourable profeflions in the world. My name was Cleantbes, and I too followed my ftudies for a certain time, but being eafy in my fortune, I quitted them, if not wholly, at leaft in part, as people in fuch circumftances ufually do, to enjoy my felf more at leifure, till arriving at this ifland J was chang'd as you fee me ; from which -day I date my happinefs, N 3 Ul. DIALOGUE VIII, VI. I expert, or rather demand, that you fhould point out wherein this fuperior hap- pinefs confifts ? Dog. If you pleafe ; I (hall begin with the Virtues, becaufe in them you place your fo much boafted fuperiority j in Jufhce, For- titude, Temperance, and the like. But firft refolve me one queftion j Which foil do you. think deferves the preference, the country of the * Cyclops [Sicj/y], which, they tell us, untilled, and uncultivated, furnimes it's in- habitants with a luxuriant crop of every kind of grain and fruit, or yours of -f- Ithaca^ mountainous and barren, which with all your pains and care rewards you with a poor re- turn, hardly fufficient for the goats it's na- tives ? Anfwer me this, I fay, all national prejudice apart. * Mr. Pofi* Horn. Oui Pkaebo ceffere, jacent, f Le Perniei, the red leg'd Partridges, Ulyfles and the Dog. 187 at the end of a twig, under which me thrufts her neck, and bringing them to an equal balance* carries them off. There is another fort of Partridge *, of which the hen is ob- liged with great privacy to hide her eggs from the cock-bird, who is fo very amorous, that not brooking her abfence, would elfe deftroy them. The fagacity of fome quadrupeds, particularly of the Camel and Elephant, is too notorious to be infifted on. The Stag, when he is grown unweildy through fatnels, as knowing himfelf to be unfit to ftand a chace, withdraws to fome private ftation j and does the fame again when he cafts his horns, as being in both thefe circumftances unable to defend himfelf. Nor does the Hind difcover lefs prudence, in choofing to bring forth near fome path beaten by human footfteps, as moft likely to be free from the haunts of wild beafls, thinking it fafer to be expofed to the mercy of men : And when her young ones are grown pretty frrong, me is obferved to lead them to fome frecp place to teach them to leap. The Bear, that me might teach her cubs to climb trees, frightens them herfelf, that they might learn that way to defend themfelves. I (hall pafs over the prudence of the Horfe, and thofe of our * Le Starne. own i88 DIALOGUE VIII. own fpecies, as being a fubject too familiar to you, and that of the reptiles, particularly of the Serpent, as too obvious, it being bora fymbolically in the hand of Prudence herfelf. Nor (hall I detain you with ftories of the in- genuity vifible in filh , both in defending themfelves or making their efcape : This fpe- cies by railing a mud in the water with it's gills ; that by emitting a dark liquor like ink. Nay you yourfelves have fufficiently con- fefled how ingenious they are, by borrowing from them the art of building thofe veffels by which the commerce of the world is car- ried on. Your oars are but an imitation of the make of the feet of the Nautilus j your fails of his wings, which he ftretches to the windward, and fo rides top gallant over the waves. So that I hope you will fubfcribe to this plain propofition, that we poiTefs a fu- perior degree of prudence ; and confequent- ly, that the ftate, for which Nature has done fo much, claims the preference. As the luxuriant foil of the * land of the Cyclops^ that produces her fruits of herfelf, is of more va- lue than your country Ithaca^ which with- out great care would bring forth none. * Diodanu Siculus tells us, Lib. V. chap. i ft - that the Le- ontine plains, and many other parts of Sicify, bear wild wheat to this day. Ul I Ulyfies and the Dog. 189 VI. I expected at your firft fetting out, CkantbeSj to have found you a mafter of all moral knowledge, but was foon undeceived, when I faw that you did not fo much as know what ftriclly Prudence is; and for want of a diftinct idea of it, I obferved you frequently confounded it with art. Dog. I afTerted that Prudence is, that knowledge by which we conduct our addons, and difpofe them to the beft advantage. This I hope you won't deny. VI. No, but I (hall deny it to be all. For he does not deferve the name of prudent, who is fo only in one thing; fuppofe in the prefervation of his health, or in the fkill of managing his weapon : He alone is worthy of it who is fo in every thing relating to a quiet and happy life. And therefore this vir- tue cannot exift among you, as I prove thus; Prudence is a virtue fubfifting in the part of the underflanding, called practical, becaufc it has actions for it's object, and univerfals for it's principles, which by reafoning fhe ap- plies to particulars. Now this you cannot do, becaufe you are not endued with this faculty. Dog. But how will you prove that this power may not be the refult of Senfe, and not of Reafon ? VI. She DIALOGUE VIII. Ul. She paries a judgment both upon things paft and to come j therefore it muft know them j but fenfe, you will confefs, knows only things prefent. Dog. Pray do not the memory and the imagination comprehend things abfent ? Ul. Yes; but then they pafs no judgment on them, nor do they afterwards apply them to particulars. Dog. But why may not we have by Na- ture the principles of Prudence in us, as well as you have thofe of Science ? Ul. Becaufe they are fuch as muft be ac- quired, either by difcipline or by experience. You cannot have them by difcipline, becaufe you are not capable of conlidering univerfals; nor by experience, becaufe you have not memory, which lays up that ftore of parti- culars with which when reafon ferves itfelf it becomes experience. Dog. He that denies us to have any me- mory, fure is very little acquainted with us. Ul. And yet I will maintain, that what you call Memory is nothing but Imagination. Dog. Where is the difference, granting what you fay, if Imagination ferves the fame purpofes in us as Memory does in you ? Ul. It is very true that the Fancy preferves the images of things, which ihe has received from Ulyfles and the Dog. 191 from the Senfes, as Memory does ; but then the Memory preferves them more diftinct, and ranges them in better order. Befides, it connects the idea of time with it; fuch as when it received fuch and fuch impreflions, which mere Fancy cannot perform. " The " Afs will not go by the ditch where he " once fell in," fays the proverb. But this is only becaufe the imagination reprefents to him the fall indiftindlly, and without any notion of the time when. So that as it does not appear to him in what part of time this happened, whether it was in the paft, is in the prefent, or is to be in the future, his apprehenfion will not fuffer him to rifque a fecond tumble. So that it is certain, thofe fpecies that have the Imagination in a higher degree of perfection, by which they perceive things more diftin&ly, will feem to have Memory : As you above all animals feem to retain fome things, particularly the know- ledge of your Matters. And where this power is lefs perfect, they will appear to have lefs of memory j as the flies, which when driven from a place, immediately feem to forget it, by returning inftantly to fettle upon it again. Therefore as Man alone, by the knowledge of the parts of time, can be laid 1 9 2 DIALOGUE VIII. faid to have Memory, he alone can be faid to have Prudence : For without that it would be impoflible to judge when it is proper td do a thing, and when not, in which Pru- dence confifts. Dog. If you will hot allow us to have frudence, What is that principle that directs tis to do only what is agreeable to our Na- ture ? UL An inftinct; a property implanted in you for your prefervation, conducting you to what is your end. So that if you fhouldj for example^ afk thofe Ants that were born laft fpring, upon what motive they lay up their ftore, having not felt the rigour of any preceding winter^ and confequently it could not be from prudence ; their anfwer muft be, becaufe we fee our parents do the fame, or that they act by fome natural impulfe urg- ing them to it; Dog. But is not this the fame thing in us which would be called Prudence in you? Ul. No; it is rather quite a different thing j becaufe Prudence is not a natural gift, but an habit, begun upon choice, and brought to* perfection by repeated adls. That you may fee this the clearer, you muft know that in our mind, ( I fpeak of the underfhnding and Ulyfies and the Dog. 193 and not of the Senfe) are two powers, with the one we contemplate things unchangeable, neceflary, and eternal. By neceflary I mean, that have their beginning in fuch a. manner, that it is impoflible for them to be in any other manner. By the fecond we coniider things contingent and variable, or fuch as may exift as well under one form as another. The firft of thefe is called the fpeculative Intellect, the fecond is fUled Reafon, Dif- courfe, and the practical Underftanding. But, becaufe things neceflary and unchangeable are of three forts, that is, they are principles, or conclufions from them, or an aggregate of" both j therefore in this fpeculative part, there are correfpondent to them three habits, In- tellect, Science, and Knowledge. By the firft we take in Principles, the fecond Con- clufions, and by the third both. And becaufe things contingent are of two forts ( I fpeak now of moral not phyfical accidents) active and operative or executive} the active regards our own manners and moral operations, fo as to render the Man good, by correcting his appetites, and conducting him to happinefs : the executive relates to combinations external to him, and the wife adminiitratjon of them. The firft falls under the notice of Prudence, O which i 9 4 DIALOGUE VIII. which is nothing but an habitude of acting according to Reafon, in things good or bad for us perfonally confidered ; the fecond falls under the cognizance of Art, which is the habit of acting wifely in things external, and conftituted artificially. So that you fee how other Animals cannot be faid to have either Prudence or Art, as you are void of Reafon, or, call it the practical Intellect, which is the ground they have to work upon. Nor is it flrange that Nature, which never does any thing in vain, has given you neither the one 'nor the other. Having only yourfelves to provide for, and" your young ones a fhort time, till they can make a fhift without you. You could have no occafion for Prudence or Art, as thofe have to whom the government of families and ftates are committed ; and efpecially, as you want no fupplies that Na- ture does not furnifh you with. Dog. Your eloquence, Ulyjfes, is fo artful and at the fame time fo forcible, that who mould incautioufly liften to you, would be in danger of being drawn in to give his af- fent, as if nothing but truth dropt from thofe lips, though you groffly Rumbled at the very threfhold, as the faying is, of your dilcourie. i VI. What Ulyffes and the Dog. 195 TJl. What is this mighty blunder you charge me with ? Dog. That in reckoning up the intelle&ual habits, you took no notice of Opinion, and yet what (hare that has in the acts of the Underftanding one need not fay. Ul. The charge recoils upon yourfelf, for want of obferving that I obviated it at the very threfhold, as you call it, by declaring^ that I confined myfelf to thofe contingencies that are within our own power, which are properly the objects of Prudence, and left out of the confideration fuch as depend on nature, that fall under the notice of Opi- nion, which is no wonder if it fometimes errs, as natural effects are fo immenfe and various. Dog. Why was this left out of the con- fideration ? UL As unworthy to be reckoned amongft thofe higher powers, or intellectual habits,* becaufe it brings no improvement to the Underftanding. Thus a Man is not efteemed wife for having an opinion of a thing, but for knowing it. Befides, Opinion is liable to be deceived, which can never happen to the forementioned habits. O 2 Dog. 196 DIALOGUE VIII. Dog. Are you in earrieft ! not liable to be deceived ? Ul. The three nrft, which fubfift in the mind or fpeculative intellect, as their objects are immutable, cannot be deceived. But, that muft ever be true or falfe, which the Soul (hall judge to be fo with either of thefe. The like may be faid of the two powers of the practical intellect ; but with this differ- ence, that with the firft three me judges and pronounces true on her own part, and on the part of the things which me confiders as they are immutable, and muft for ever re- main fo: Whereas with the powers of the fecond kind, me only pronounces what is true as far as they are concerned, and not the objects themfelves. Dog. Will you be fo hardy as to aflert, that Prudence, or the Art that you have been fpeaking of, is not capable of being miftaken ? Ul. No; but this is not the fault of the faculties, which are good and true, but it proceeds from the part of the objects which are variable. Dog. And yet this methinks may be an- fwered; but I choofe rather to return to our proportion, and demand of you again, if we Ulyfles and the Dog. 197 we have not Prudence, how comes it that there is fuch a rectitude in our operations, and that we make fewer miftakes than you ? And if we are wholly void of Art, to what do you afcribe that furprizing fkill, that (hews itfelf in what we do for our own fer- vice, and efpecially for the fervice of our young ? UL To an Inftinc~t, or a certain natural Prevalency implanted in you, according to your different fpecies, for your preferva- tion, wholly different from either Prudence or Art. And that this is fo, be pleafed to remember, that all animals of the fame fort, obferve exactly the fame forms, as well , in building as in every thing elfe. Where- as were thefe the effect of Art or Prudence, which always aft upon choice, there muft be a variety fuitable to the circumftances' of time and place, as you find, in every thing we do. Dog. You feem to me, UlyJJes, to argue from mere differences of terms, which are arbitrarily affixed by you to things. So that what is ftiled in you Prudence and Art, is in us no more than Inftind:, or a natural Prevalency. But if ours be lefs liable to O 3 miftakes, 198 DIALOGUE VIII. miftakes, I think it a proof that it is more eligible, and ourfelves more perfedt. So bid- ing adieu to our Controverfy I mall leave you to enjoy your prefent ftate, becaufe you feem to think it beft, and for the fame reafon I fhall continue in my own. Exit Dog. CIRCE. 199 CIRCE. Tranflated from the Italian of JOHN BAPTIST GELLI, */ * DIALOGUE IX. UlyfTes and the Steer. Find my felf at prefent rightly qualified to fub- fcribe to the proverb, that nothing is fo equally dif- tributed as the Underftanding * : fince there * Cartefius takes thefe very words. Di/ertat. de Method. P. i . Dr. Calamy quotes them as a wife reflection of Car- ttfius. Vide liis Sermons. 04 is 200 D I A L O G U E IX. Is not one of thefe beads with whom I have been difcourfing, but is fo fatisfied with his own {hare of it, that he cannot bear to fubmit to the judgment of Man, who can reafon fhiclly, and adt freely. For, that the ftate of a brute is more defirable than ours, is fo monftrous a propofition, that in their former fhape they durft not be fo hardy as to main- tain it. It muft then be owing to nothing elfe but the ftrong prejudice that every being has to itfelf, which may make it abhor a total change, left it mould rifque a diflblu- tion by it. And this jealqufy is perhaps ftronger in Man than in any other creature. I fpeak now of a thorough fubftantial change, not a little accidental alteration j for I fancy, we mould meet with few old fellows, that would hefitate long whether they would be turned back to five and twenty j no fick man would have any fcruples, whether he mould change constitutions with the robuft, or the beggar his purle with the wealthy. But tq fuffer an effential tranfmutation, ib as to be- come quite another creature, is what few or none can bear to think of. This is the beft account I can find for their obftinacy in re- jecting my propofal. But what a beautiful young Steer do I fee coming up, carelefsly grazing UlyfTes and the Steer. 201 grazing towards me! How much fiercenefs is in his four look, and yet how gentle and tractable is his carriage ! Surely we are much obliged to Nature for this beaft, which feems calculated to do our drudgery both by his ftrength and temper. I will try if he was a Greek, which I mall eafily do, for I obferve he liftens to every word I fpeak, as if he understood me. So, gentle Steer, I adjure thee by thy hopes tell me of what country thou waft before thy change? Steer. Of the fame that you were, if you fpeak your mother tongue. U/. Then I prefume, you feel the fame longing to return that I do. Steer. Not I truly, I always thought that where one is happieft, that is our trueft coun- try. And as I would upon no account re- turn to manhood again, fo neither can I think of quitting fcenes fo delightful and a foil fo fertile. UL Do you feel then no compunction no tendernefs for friends deferted, and relations- left behind: No concern for thofe whom to part with, to fome generous minds, has been efleemed worfe than death? Steer. For my part, if I had .no other motive to determine me to continue as I am, this 202 DIALOGUE IX. this would be a very ftrong one, that by having my cares difengaged from thofe ex- ternal concerns, they all or chiefly center in myfelf. Hence we live quietly and content- edly with one another, and each being fup- plied by Nature with every thing he wants, there can be no room for hatred, quarrels, envy, rapine, murders by fword or poiion, with a thoufand other calamities, with which your human life abounds, and which made a wife Man fb juftly call it, an ocean of mi- feries. Ul. This outcry againft us, methinks, comes with a very ill grace from thofe that are guilty of fuch grofs enormities, whom it would become at leaft not to be cenforious. Steer. It muft not be denied, that we alfo have our irregularities; perhaps by the ap- pointment of Nature, which will not fuffer any thing, in this world to be without defedl ; but this we dare affirm, that you fhall find but one vice raging in one fpecies, as Surli- nefs in the Bear, Fiercenefs in the Tiger, Ravenoufnefs in the Wolf, and Gluttony in the Hog. Whereas each of thefe is to be met with in a very flourifhing condition in Man alone. Ul. What Ulyfles and the Steer. 203 Uf. What you fay may be true of the fpecies, but not of the individual ; it being impofTtble that all vices can be in one, con- fident with his being, though all the virtues may dwell very peaceably in him, that is fo happy as to acquire them. Steer. Why fo ? as Nature has furnimed him wirh a genius equal to every thing. Ul. Becaufe the vices being contrary to each other, as Cowardice to Ramnefs, Avarice to Prodigality, cannot meet toge- ther in the fame perfon, though the vir- tues, which are affiftant to each other, very well may. Steer. And will any man dare to deny, that the virtues are not alfo to be found a- mongft us? Ul. Not fo perfect j though there mould be one or more found in a whole fpecies ; whereas one man, I fay, is capable of them all. Steer. Our opinions feem hitherto to clafh extremely. Ul. So, who mall be judge in the cafe ? Steer. I will name one, that is yourfelf, and will demonftrate the point fo clearly, that I (hall freely fubmit the decifion to your ingenuity. To begin, 1 think your wife men 204 DIALOGUE IX. men agree, that * Juftice is an epitome and collection of all the virtues in one, as con- taining them all in itfelf, and giving law to the reft. It is fhe that dictates to the va- liant, and reftrains him from declining dan- gers when glory is the prize. It is by her the temperate man difdains to abandon him- felf fo far to pleafures, as to have no regard to decency. What but this virtue keeps the civilized man from abhorring the thoughts of doing an injury? Nay it reduces all human actions, good and bad, to a proper regula- tion, and one ftandard rule. Not only fuch as are voluntarily entered into by confent of parties, as contracts, loans, mortgages, and the like ; but fuch as men are driven to by revenge, or fome unwarrantable habit, either fecretly, as thefts, an^am" nations, poifonings, treafons, and falfe testimonies ; or openly with a high hand, as robberies, afTaults, disfigu- rations, murders, and the like outrages upon human nature. UL It is true; and therefore Juftice has alone been filled the complete virtue-)-; for where- as * Iheagnis fays of Juftice, *H f ^uc f Hierocles fays, that Juftice is the moft perfect of all Yirtues, and if the received maxim of your learned men be truej that every creature is known by it's actions. Which, if applied to men, will abundantly make out my afTertion. UI. If men did all act in one uniform manner, I own there would be fomething in it. Steer. But the actions of the majority arc fufficient to juftify an inference. Now, if there was fuch a thing as natural Juftice a- 1 - mong you, and Man lived according to a law written in his heart, what occafion would there be for fuch a voluminous collection of Statutes, to catch the Flies at leaft, though the heavier brutes break through them ? UL It muft be confeffed, that if each would follow the law hat Nature dictates, of doing what in the fame circumftances he would defire mould be done to himfelf, there could be no want of any other rule, though, to fay the truth, they feetn to be interpreta- tions and comments on the natural Law, and as- Ulyffes and the Steer. 207 as far as any of them deviate from the ori- ginal they are faulty. For as in fpeculation there are fome truths fo evident that they need no proof, fuch as, that the fame thing can be and not be at the fame time, and other truths again fpring from, and are founded on this : So in practical life, there are certain lights and natural principles felf- evident, fuch as, you fhould not do what you would not have done to yourfelf; upon which all the fuperftruclure of written Laws depend. Steer. Now to me they feem rather calcu- lated to interpret this natural Law according to your own fenfe, that it may be turned and twifted at your pleafure, 'till that appears to be right in words which is moft unjuft in facl. And I fancy your experience will agree with mine, that that Lawyer will always be efteemed the moft able in his profeffion, who can beft make the Law fpeak as he would have it. Ul. I muft caution you to confine yourfelf to the intention and fpirit of the Laws, and not to the abufe of them; and then let us fee if you will be able from thence to defend what you at firft advanced, that there is no fuch thing as Juflice to be found among men. Steer. 208 DIALOGUE IX. Steer. You muft know then, that Juftice divides itfelf naturally into the diflributivc and the commutative. The firft relates to rewards and punimments, in providing that the Good be properly rewarded, and the Bad duly corrected. The fecond provides for an equitable intercourfe, and juft commerce of things neceffary to the benefit of mankind, eftablifhing a fair method of dealing, by which alone peace can be preferved in civil life. Now if thefe two parts of Juftice can^ not be found among you, neither can the whole, which is never any thing elfe but the aggregate of it's parts. TJL But what proves that neither of thefe parts of Juftice, according to your divifion, is to be found amongft us ? Steer. Your own experience, unlefs you fuffer yourfelf to be quite blinded by preju- dice. To begin with the firft, what preten- fions have you to an impartial equitable diftri- bution of rewards and punifhments, accord- ing to the merit of the parties, when one fees Virtue fo often treated with contempt, or perfecuted with malice ? VI. One would hardly believe, that there could be any motive for doing violence to the Good and Innocent. Steer, Ulyfles and the Stee? 4 . 209 Steer. I can tell you of one j that a good man is a {landing reproach to a villain, who, by having fuch a comparifon at hand, fees his own corrupt actions fet in a ftronger light. Caft your eyes upon what form of govern- ment you plcafe in Greece^ either that by one, by few, or by all, and I will anfwer for it, you will be furnifhed with variety of exam* pies, where through intereft, envy, or fome other fcandalous motive, the felf-iame action has been rewarded in one, and cenfured, or perhaps punifhed, in another j and fo the re- verie. Ul. But granting all this ; How does our want of juftice prove that you abound with it ? Or how does it appear that you have any ? Steer. From our actions, as far as our cir- cumftances will admit. When did you ever fee in our combats, the appiaule beftowed but on the conqueror, whilft difgrace always purfues the unworthy? Ul. Thefe may be well known truths a* mong yourfelves, for aught I knowj fo I mall not difpute them with you j but haften to the fecond branch, and fee how much commutative Juflice is to be found among brutes. P Steef. DIALOGUE IX. Steer. I can readily tell you j juft as much as is to be found among men, that is not one {ingle grain of it : Only with this difference, that we, by having every thing in common, as having no occafion for this virtue, have never cultivated it : But you, where every thing is cantoned out into property, and can- not poflibly fubfift without it, have, through your infatiable avarice, and luft after riches, quite banifhed it from the world. So that in all your contracts and tranfactions, your fole care is to get, no matter by what means, or *t whofe expence. And he that fucceeds beft, by the vile arts of fraud and falfhood, is fure to have his addrefs in bufinefs highly ap- plauded : Which feems to me to juftify the. practice. Ul Oh ! fie ; what juftify dimonefty ? Steer. Why not, when it is the fure road- with you to honour ? How many wretches could I name (whofe mean natural abilities would mark them out in low life for con- tempt) in fuch high efteem, merely from the advantages of fortune, as to have every folly extolled and each inlipid fentence liftened ttf with admiration ? Nay your common pro- verbs, in every body's mouth, feem calculated to countenance and propagate the notions, baft Uly flcs and the Steer. 2 1 1 bafe as they are, of the merit of riches, and the crime of being poor. And yet I fancy when thefe great men, that have had their thoughts fo debafed, and quite immerfed in the defire of riches, come to part with this World, they can give no more account of it than if they had never been in it. Having neither examined their own nature, or ob- ferved the beauties that are every where dif- played to them through the univerfe. For them the beauteous ftructure of the world was made in vain> and all things might as well have continued in the confufion of the firft chaos t their eyes were fo conftantly turned down upon their darling treafure, as never to be caft up towards heaven, to con- template the wonderful appearance of fuch immenfe orbs, rolling round them in perpe- tual harmony. And yet thefe are but the degrees and fcale by which their thoughts mould mount up to more amazing and more divine fpeculations. And what aggravates the cafe is, that even with fuch wretches the poor man is fo defpifed, that his natural ad- vantages are of no more account than the ftrength of a ilave, or the venal beauty of a common proftitute. P 2 Ul. It 212 DIALOGUE IX. 177. It will be of no fervice to theargument, to (hew that there are irregularities in the actions of men, fince I readily grant, they are fo often drawn afide from their duty to do what in cool difpaffionate thoughts they abhor. But then this is fo far from proving that there is no fuch thing as Jufticc amongft us, that I could at the fame time tire you with examples, of many that would fcorn, upon any confideration, to violate the leaft of her facred laws. Much lefs will thofe ac- tions of yours demonftrate that you have juftice among you, though fome of them may appear under the form of it. Steer. That's very hard, if it be true that every creature is to be judged of by it's ac- tions. VL Not in the leaft, becaufe they are in you no more than certain habits, from propen- fions implanted in you by Nature j who be- ing confcious, that me had not given you light fufficient to guide you to your happi- nefs, fupplied you with thefe unerring rules. But be ingenuous, do you really know ftric~lly what Juftice is? Steer. It is an uniform and conftant will, that renders to everyone what is dueand fit for him. This is the ufual definition, and I defire Ulyfles and the Steer. 213 defire to know if you have any exception to it ? U/. I have not, if by will you mean a habit confirmed by repeated ads. For a per- fon is not to be denominated juft from one or a few ads, but from the whole or general tenour of them. Steer. I underfland fo ; having always e- fteemed powers not yet exerted into ads, to be fo imperfect as not to deferve notice. Ul. Your own account therefore demon- ftrates, that there can be no Juftice found among you, becaufe you cannot be faid to have a will, which is the fubjed on which it is originally founded. Now the will being a rational faculty, is only to be found in rational creatures. Steer. Why can it not be found in the fen- iitive appetite, which we have in common with you? UL Becaufe the will is under the influence of the underftanding, which influence con- (litutes the will, and juftice is the regulation of it's operative part. Now this faculty does not only take cognizance of things [for that fenfe can do] but their relations alfo, by which it can affign what is proper to one and what to another, which is more than mere fenfe can do. P 3 Steer. DI ALOGU E IX. Steer. If you won't allow it to be Juftice, pray what is it that fo reftrains our appetite in what belongs to another, that our conduct is much lefs blameable that way than yours ? 177. I have told you ; it is a principle im- prefied on you by Nature, for your prelerva- tion, under which you aft neceflarily. And thofe operations that proceed from mere Na- ture, no more deferve praife or blame than the ftone deferves to be condemned for tend- ing towards the center, or the fire to be praifed for it's afpiring quality. As to what you fay of your acting freely (for I verily be- lieve you feem to yourfelves to have your ap- petite free) I anfwer, that granting as much as you defire, yet you cannot pretend, that you know perfectly and distinctly what you do j and confequently fuch actions can never be called good and perfect, of which the actor himfelf hath not a, clear diftinct know- ledge. Steer. Thefe are refinements and fubtleties invented by yourfelves, to gratify your pride of being fuperior to your fellow creatures. Put whoever fhall judge by your actions, muft conclude, that if you have any Juftice among you, it is only in words, which can- not be faid of us, who have not the art to j exprefs UlyfTes and the Steer. 215 exprefs to another the contrary of what w$ feel within ourfelves. VI. Let us difcourfe a little morediftinctly upon this virtue, according ta your definition, which is certainly a very ju ft one, and it will fet your miftake in a clearer light. For if Juftice confifts in rendring to all their due^ fhe muft render to the immortal Gods the adoration which is fo much their right. And this either is a part of, or a diftinct virtue fa intimately joined and connected with Juftice, that it is from thence by us called Religion*. Now how is it poflible that you can have this virtue, either entire or in part,, who know nothing of the Gods, nor have any thoughts or belief of their existence ? For having not the ufe of reafon to weigh the properties of motion, and the nature of accidents x as they cannot fubfift of themfelves, but in another^ you could never attain to the knowledge of a firft mover, or an independent fubftance. Steer. That is more than I know ; this I am fure of, that there arc amongft us who. pay their reverence each morning to the riling fun, acknowledging him to be the great Mi- nifter of Nature. And amongft the. From r(Iiar as you may convince yourfelf, by confidering that you pafs not a judgment upon colours, but the thing coloured; and this every man, as well as you, does that follows only the informa- tion of fenfe. Eleph. I grant that this knowledge is very clear and diftincl:. VI. Farther yet, our Underftanding, in or- der to acquire a perfect knowledge of things, can compound or divide them, by way of affirmation or negation ; which is above the iphere of fenfe. For by knowing that a fub- flance receives and fupports accidents, and that bodies fuftain colours, which are acci- dents, it compounds thefe two natures, and collects that body is a fubftance ; again by be- ing fatisfied that fubftance is what fubfifts of itfelf, but that colour muft fubfift in another, what does it do but divide and feparate thefe two natures, by denying the one to be the other, which forms this proportion, that co- lour is not a fubftance ? And fo on, by the help of many of thefe affirmations and ne- gations, it comes at many truths that never could have fallen under the notice of fenfe, and confequently, muft efcape you. For though you avoid what offends you, this is 3 not Ulyffes and the Elephant. 243 not by reafoning, in the way I have been de- fcribing, which is above your capacity, but from the impulfe of appetite, which hurries you from it without any reflection. Eleph. So far I underftand alfo. U7. Nor is our Underftanding bounded here ; but by revolving and reviewing the fe- veral femblances and images of things depo- fited by the fenfes in the fancy 5 it extracts the knowledge of many things that could not fall under the notice, either of the external or internal fenfes. For it is thus that it ac- quires a clear conception of univerfal natures* of feparate forms^ and heavenly beings^ nay as far as his nature will permit it; to reach even the knowledge of the Supreme Caufe of all things; This is what imagination, faga- city, or the higheft faculty you can boaft of, never can pretend to. Eleph. And in what manner do you know* this Supreme Caufe? Ul. Not only in a negative manner, as fome have taught, but by fuppofing an ori- ginal Caufe, and then denying it to be capa- ble of any affections that imply defect, fuch as we fee arc the properties of matter in cor- poreal creatures. Such a one then is unpro- duced, incorruptible, unchangeable, not cdn- R 2 tained 244 DIALOGUE X. tained in place, uncompounded, of unlimited duration, and the like. Nor have we an idea of him only by the means that others have aflerted, by the way of fuper-excellence, fuch as that he excels in goodnefs, beauty, amiablenefs j all that in the univerfe is good, beautiful, and amiable. But man knows him by infpecting himfelf, by conlidering that the excellence of his own nature confifts only in this, that he can reafon upon all things*, ei- ther thofe below or fuperior to himfelf, and can in fome meafure afTimulate himfelf to them, and become what he pleafes. A far- ther difcovery that he makes is, by examin- ing his own imperfections, that his know- ledge in refpect of all things is only potential and not actual, and therefore he is ignorant at one time of what he may know at another, from hence he forms the idea of an Intelli- gence of a more exalted and perfect kind than his own, always actual, comprehending all things that either are or have been from all eternity, and not capable of any new informa- tion, as containing within himfelf the fpe- cies of whatfoever either has been or can be in the world. This is the firft Caufe which, * The original is, intendendo tutte le cofe. 3 b y UlyfTes and the Elephant. 245 by governing all things from the beginning in fuch wonderful order, muft of neceffity be an intelligent Being, and for ever continue to be fo, after one uniform manner of in- telledtion. Elepb. Oh! furprizing power of the hu- jnan Underftanding. UL And it is the more fo, by being con- fcious that it does underftand ; which is a- bove the reach of fenfe. For though the eye takes in the rays of light, and the ear is affected by founds, yet the eye fees not that it fees, nor does the ear hear that it does fo. For thefe powers being affixed to certain or- gans of the body, cannot reflect and reafon upon themfelves. Whereas the Underftand- ing being a power fpiritual and divine, may be turned in upon itfelf, and fo difcern both it's own faculties and their value, which is, let me tell you, it's peculiar privilege. Hea- ven itfelf, though of fuch purity and honour, is infenfible of it's own worth. And the fun, the firft minifter of Nature, and fource of light in heaven, feels not his own high ftation. But man, who is acquainted with his own excellency, and fuperiority over every other creature, whofe end he feems to be, (fince by knowing their refpective natures he R 3 can 246 D I A L O G U E X. can employ them for his ufe) rejoices in him- felf, and feels a fincere contentment and felf- complacency. And that he might be the better qualified for this, he is furnimed with a faculty that treafures up his notions, called intellectual memory, which as much excels yours, as it's objects are more noble. Eleph. This makes a farther difcovery of your happinefs. 1/7. Nay, what is more, Man has this property, that it is not in the power of his Understanding, to entertain a conceit fo ab- ftrufe or fublime, which, by the help of language, he cannot freely communicate. For we don't underftand a voice, like you, only as a fign and expreflion of forne com- mon paffion, fuch as joy, grief, fear, and the like, but by the afliftance of words, \vhofe import we have agreed upon, we can defcribe it juft in the manner we would Jiave it explained. It is by this canal that inflrudtion is conveyed, and ignorance in one man is banifhed by the {kill of another. For though the more knowing cannot always from himfelf imprefs the very thought he would communicate to the fcholar, yet by this means he can put him in a method to form it in his own mind, It was from oh- ferving- Ulyfles and the Elephant. 247 ferving this, that the old ^Egyptian fages broke out into fuch extravagant raptures, as to call man the terreftrial God, the heavenly Animal, refident of the Gods, Lord of all below, Favorite of all above, and in a word, the Miracle of Nature. Eleph. Without doubt, fo much perfec- tion will require very pompous expreffions to do it juftice. UL But there is yet another faculty, and that not a tittle mort of this in point of ex- cellence, I mean the Will, by which we free- ly defire or avoid what is judged right or wrong by the Underftanding: As you fly or purfue what Senfe recommends or deters you from. Elepb. Would not the appetite have been fufficient for this, without the addition of a new power? //. It evidently would notj becaufe ap- petite, under the influence of fenfe, could only defire or abhor what falls under the no- tice of fenfe. Whereas the virtues or vices which attract our love, or caufe our averliun, could never come under the cognizance of fenfe. This then ennobles the man, by making him the free lord of all his actions j which arifes from it's own freedom, not be- R 4 ing 248 DIALOGUE X. ing determined by Nature more towards one extreme than the other. For though the object be good, it is no more conftrained to the purfuit of it than of it's contrary. Whereas mere natural agents, being impelled towards their objects within a certain diftance, muft act as necefiarily as the flame, which, within reach of combuflible matter, cannot but fet it on fire. But in us the Will, though what is good and amiable be propofed to it, and it be difpofed in fome degree rather to purfue it, yet it is free from all force, either to chufe or to reject it. Every other faculty in man, as an animal, owns it's fubjection to this; for though each may be affected by it's object, without the confent of the Will, yet it muft be fo as always to be under it's go- vernment, whenever it pleafes to exert itfelf. Thus, though the fight, when a vifible ob- ject be prefented to it, muft be moved by it naturally, yet the Will can command it a- way, and turn it to fome other; and fowith the reft of the fenfes. And no object, nay no force on earth below, or heaven above, can conftrain it to dcfire what it diilikes. The cafe is very different with the fenfitive appe- tite ; to which when an object is prefented which it defires, the animal is hurried away necefTarily Ulyfles and the Elephant. 249 neceffarily and naturally to it, without any choice : As every obferver muft confefs. Elepb. Well, but after all where is the great dignity that this confers on human nature ? UI. So great that it was this alone made the old fages pronounce him to be the mira- cle of Nature. Elepb. Give me leave to afk why ? Ul. Becaufe every other creature being under ftated laws, by which it muft at- tain the very end which Nature has prefcribed to it, and no other, jt cannot fuperfede thofe directions : But man, by having his choice free, can obtain an end more or lefs worthy as he thinks fit, by letting himfelf down to creatures much below him, or by emulating thofe as much above. He that elevates him- felf no higher than the earth on which he grows, will become a mere vegetable ; and he that abandons himfelf to fenfual pleafures will degenerate into a brute. Whilft he that looks with an eye of reafon on the glories of the heavens, and contemplates the ftupen- dous regularity of Nature, will change the earthly into a celeftial creature ; but he that dares foar above the grofs impediments of flefh, to converfe with divine obje&s, will become 250 DIALOGUE X. become little lefs than a God*. Who there- fore can look without aftonifhment on man, not only the moft noble, and the fovereign over animals, but who has this peculiar pri- vilege indulged him by Nature, that he may make himfelf what he will ? Eleph. How comes it to pafs then, if the Will has what is good for it's object, and it be unbiaffed in it's choice, that you prefer oftner what is it's contrary, and fly from vir- tue to follow vice? Ul. The reafon of this appearance is, the intimate and wonderfully ilricl: attachment and combination it has with the fenfes, and from the neceility the Understanding (whofe light the Will follows) is under, of taking it's information from them, who often mew him an apparent for a real good : So that the Will being diverted and mifled by the one, which is impofed upon by the mifre- prefentations of the other, it muft be grant- ed, if it does not purfue evil, yet it does not fufficiently avoid it j nor does it exercife * The Pythagoreajtt propofe the SeJ SpoWw to their fcholars, as the great incitement to virtue. Hierac/es, in his commentaries on the Golden Verfes, fays, that they lead to the likenefs with God, which is the aim of the Pythagorean Philofophy. the Ulyffes and the Elephant. 251 the fovereignity it ought over the fenfitive appetite. So that in truth, all our errors proceed fr6m the irrational part of our na- ture, which we have in common with you, and not from what conftitutes us men. ILleph. No more, no more, Ulyjfcs, every moment of delay hinders me from the hap- pinefs I have already been too long deprived of. Let me inftantly put off the Beaft and refume the Man. Ulvffes changes him. Which I here grant unto thee, by the authority to me com- mitted. Aglaophemus. Oh! miraculous effect, oh! happy change; more happy from the expe- rience I have had of both conditions. This breaks in upon me like a flood of light, up- on a wretch long pent up in darknefs $ or like the pleafures that a profperous change affords one inured to mifery. How I pity the wretches who refufed this offer, that they might wallow on in all the fordid delights of fenfe? Thanks to my benefa&or, who by his wifdom pointed to me out the truth, and by his eloquence warmed me in the purfuit of it. The Gods alone can render you a fuitable reward, for the favours you have conferred upon mej whilft I, in obedience to 252 DIALOGUE X. to ftrong natural impulfe, make them an humble offering of my thanks, tracing up the blefiings that are beftowed upon me, to the fole original Caufe of all things, from whence they are derived, efpecially this laft, of knowing the imperfedtion of every other creature when compared with man. And becaufe the only return I am capable of making is gratitude, let me indulge it, till it kindles into fome rhapfody facred to his praife. And do thou, Uly/es, whilft thy heart burns with the fame zeal, give devout attention to this holy hymn, which I dare dictate to the world. Alienee ye 'winds , ye ivhifp'fing trees Attend-, let limning motion ceafe, Wbilft the Fir ft Mover of the world's great frame Infpires the fong. Hail ever facred name ! Father, Maker, Source of all T^hat great, or wife, or good ive call, Whether on earth, where foul corruption reigns, Or elfe above, in blifsful azure plains, Where fubjlances divine, in purer day, Flourifo unchanged, unconfcious of decay. II. 'Twas Ulyffes and the Elephant. 253 II. he that ftretctid the pendent earth, Self-poized amidft the concave fries , He gives the guflring fountains birth, And bids the healthful torrent rife. 'Twas he, tvhofe bounty ft or* d For wan, imperial lord, With grim inhabitants the 'woods, And peoprd all the genial foods : He jirft the foul enlightened from above, And taught the heart to glow with holy love : For him tti enlightened foul in rapture burns : $Q him the glowing heart his love returns. III. Ye fpirits pure ethereal train , You that rejide in myftick cells, In fecret chambers of the brain, Where menfry and invention dwells, Pow y rs, virtues, potentates, 'That round the throne of Reafon fland, Where free volition waits, Proud to receive her Queerfs command, Sing the Firft Caufe-, ye powers, divinities, Sing to your elder brothers of the Jkies, DIALOGUE X, echoing beav'n Jhall catch the fong di* 'vine. And all the world in one grand chorus join, UL Let me trouble you but with this one queftion more; Were you not confcious of this knowledge of a Firfl Caufe in your bru- tal capacity? Agla. No, but inftantaneoufly with my change I felt this light fpringing up in the foul, as a property natural to it. Or rather I mould exprefs myfelf, that it feemed like a recovery in the memory of ideas it had been before acquainted with. But I have this advantage however from my experience, that by having a more perfect knowledge of the excellency of human nature, I draw this conclulion; that as man has been more beloved by the Supreme Caufe, fince he is more honoured than his fellow creatures, the end he ought to propofe to himfelf, fhould be very different from that of other animals, who, by being without reafon, muft be with- out the knowledge of a firft Caufe, Ul. Right ; and to carry the thought yet higher, it cannot be but that if the know- ledge of truth is the perfection of the hu<- man mind, and this cannot properly be faid to Ulyffes and the Elephant. 255 to be acquired here, whilft we are in this mortal frame, ftruggling under many obftacles, which at beft muft foon end in death j it muft follow, that when the foul is enlarged, and free from thefe impediments, this muft be the fubjed: of it's purfuit in fome future ft ate, unlefs we will fuppofe Nature to have acted in vain. And though man in this pre- fent life cannot, like other animals, attain the end of his nature, and acquire the fum of what he aims at, yet he may be faid to enjoy it in fome degree, whilft he keeps a- bove the grofs pleafufes of fenfe, and lives in a manner agreeable to a rational crea- ture. Agla. Let us fly then, my Ufyjfes, from this accurfed more, where this falfe artful woman, with her vile forcery, makes men live like beafts, not only in manners but in fhape alfo. Let us, 1 fay, quit this flavery to return to Greece, and to the full enjoy- ment of all the liberty of reafon. Nor do thou dare truft thyfelf again with the fight of the foul inchantrefs, left by fome new illufion me prevail with thee to remain in this unhappy land. Ut. Come DIALOGUE X. 177. Come on then, it is my foul's defire fee ! how the propitious Gods, ever fa- vourable to thgfc who ftrive to imitate them, Jiave prevented OUT wimes, by fending a gale inviting to our voyage. N I nee s ' UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LIBRARY Los Angeles This book is DUE on the last date stamped below. -J '4 RECTO LD-URE NOV 1 1978 Form L9-50m-7,'54 (5990) 444