i<g& <f«Lc: «:«r -^a:* <«■ <* 
 
 
 ^'^^.. 
 
 mi 
 
 Clifef eg <* 
 
 
 

 
 THE LIBRARY 
 
 OF 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY 
 
 OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 LOS ANGELES 
 
 
 l^iWi

 
 T 
 
 '^ 
 '3 
 
 ^^^ 
 
 
 .^ 
 
 \
 
 :^^o/s-
 
 THE 
 
 PHILOSOPHICAL LIBRARY; 
 
 BEING 
 
 ^ furious; Collection 
 
 OF THE 
 
 MOST RARE AND l^ALUABLE 
 
 MANUSCRIPTS AND PRINTED WORKS, 
 
 BOTH ANCIENT AND MODERN, 
 
 WHICH *REAT OP 
 MORAL, METAPHYSICAL, THEOLOGICAL, HISTORICAL, AND PHILOSOPHICAL 
 
 lEttguiries; after ^rut&f 
 
 VOL. I. 
 DEDICATED TO THE PEOPLE OF THE BRITISH EMPIRE. 
 
 BY JOSEPHUS TELA. 
 
 Ne quid falsi dicere audeat, ne quid veri non audeat. — Cicero. 
 
 He who knows nothing, doubts of nothing ; scepticism and curiosity ai c 
 the great springs of knowledge : but ignorance, on the contrary, is found 
 to go hand in hand with credulity, Ital. Prov. 
 
 A good book never comes out too late. — Father Paul's Letters, 67. 
 
 LONDON : 
 
 PRINTED FOR THE PROPRIETOR, 
 
 By Jas, Adlard and Sons, 23, Bartholomew Close ; 
 AND PUBLISHED BY J. SOUTER, 73, ST. PAULS CHURC11'\AKU. 
 
 ISIS.
 
 THE 
 
 LIFE AND MORALS 
 
 OF 
 
 CONFUCIUS, 
 
 A 
 
 WHO FLOURISHED ABOVE FIVE I^UNDREU YEARS BEFORE THE 
 COMING OF JESUS CHRIST. 
 
 BEING ONE OF THE 
 
 CHOICEST PIECES OF LEARNING AND MORALITY 
 REMAINING OF THAT NATION. 
 
 Reprinted from the Edition of 1691. nnd 
 EDITED BY JOSEPHUS TELA. 
 
 ,|»cconti <iBtiition. 
 
 LONDON: 
 
 PRINTED FOR THE PROPRIETOR, 
 
 By Jas. Adlard and Sons, 23, Bartholomew Close : 
 I'L'iMisliEn HY J. SOUTEK, 73, sx. paui.'s ciruucH-\ARi), ani» lo 
 
 HE IIAI) OF EVERY BOOKSELLER IN THE LNITEU KlN*;)>0;U. 
 
 1S18.
 
 B 
 
 PREFACE. 
 
 The work here published, in which, as an epitome, 
 are contained all the Morals of Confucius, the Chinese 
 philosopher, is very small, if we regard the number 
 of pages which compose it : but it is doubtless very 
 great, if consideration be had to the importance of 
 the things therein contained. 
 
 We may say, that the Morals of this philosopher 
 are infinitely sublime ; but, at the same time, pure, 
 sensible, and drawn from the purest fountains of na- 
 tural reason. Certainly, a reason destitute of the 
 lights of divine revelation has never appeared with so 
 much illumination and power. And, as there is not 
 any duty omitted by Confucius, so there are not any 
 besides those here mentioned. He greatly extends 
 his Morals, but not farther than is necessary ; his 
 judgment ever telling him how far he must go, and 
 where he must stop. 
 
 He has a very considerable advantage, not only 
 over a great number of Pagan writers, that have 
 treated of things of this nature, but likewise over 
 several Christian authors, who abound with so many 
 
 a2
 
 IV. PREFACE. 
 
 false or over-subtle thoughts; who almost every- 
 where surpass the bounds of their duty, and who give 
 themselves up to their own fancy or ill-humour ; who 
 almost always digress from that just mean, where 
 virtue ought to be placed ; who, by their false por- 
 traitures, render it impossible to our practice, and 
 who, consequently, make few virtuous men. 
 
 We can aver that, in this abridgment, we shall 
 see master-pieces of the moral essays. Every thing 
 herein is solid ; because that right reason, that inward 
 verity, which are implanted in the soul of all men, 
 and which our philosopher incessantly consulted with- 
 out prejudice, guided all his w'ords. Thus the rules 
 w^iich he prescribes, and the duties to which he ex- 
 horts, are such, that there is no person who does not 
 immediately give his approbation thereunto. There 
 is nothing of falsity in his reasonings, nothing ex- 
 treme; none of those frightful subtleties which are 
 observed in the moral treatises of most modern meta- 
 physicians,* — that is to say, in discourses where 
 simplicity, clearness, and perspicuity, ought to prevail 
 throughout, and make themselves sensible to minds 
 of the lowest rank. 
 
 We shall, perhaps, find this maxim a little relaxed, 
 where Confucius saith " that there are certain persons 
 whom it is lawful to hate." Nevertheless, if the 
 thing be closely considered, we shall find the thought 
 to be just and reasonable. Virtue, indeed, commands 
 us to do good to all men, as Confucius states it; but 
 
 * Voyez le Traite de Morale, de I'auteur de la Recherche de la 
 Verite.
 
 PREFACE. V. 
 
 it requires not that we should effectually have friend- 
 ship for all sorts of persons. There are some so 
 odious that it is absolutely impossible to love them ; 
 for, after all, we can only love good : we naturally 
 have an aversion for what appears extremely wicked 
 and defective. All that charity obliges us to do on 
 this account is, to show kindness to a person, when 
 it is in our power, as if we loved him, notwithstand- 
 ing the vices, malice, and great defects which may 
 be discovered in him. 
 
 Seeing that opportunity offers, we shall take notice 
 ^at the duty of loving our enemies, which Jesus 
 Christ so much recommends in his Gospel, is gene- 
 rally too much stretched. This duty is very difficult 
 to perform in its just extent, without our rendering it 
 yet harder; or, rather, impossible to practise, and 
 capable of casting us into despair, and of making us 
 fall into an entire relaxation. The generality of those 
 who explain this duty, speak as if we were obliged to 
 retain in our hearts a tender amity for all our ene- 
 mies, how wicked and abominable soever they be. 
 Yet this is not precisely that which the Son of God 
 requires at our hands, because he demands not things 
 absolutely impossible. His aim is to excite us to 
 behave ourselves towards our enemies, whoever they 
 be, as we do to them that we love. Indeed, the 
 Scripture does, in several places, by "to love," signify 
 " to do good," almost in the same manner as we do 
 to those for whom we have a great affection. If this 
 were a fit occasion, we might verify this with several 
 passages. We shall satisfy ourselves with only al- 
 leging the example of God himself, which our Saviour
 
 Yl, PREFACE. 
 
 proposes for our imitation : for, after having said, 
 Matth. V. 44, 45, " Love your enemies ; bless them 
 ti^t curse you ; do good to them that hate you ; and 
 pray for them that despitefully use you, and persecute 
 you ;" (for these are all as so many synonimous terms,) 
 he adds, " that ye may be the children of your Father 
 which is in heaven : for he maketh his sun to rise 
 upon the evil and on the good, and sendeth his rain 
 on the just and on the unjust." Now, it is certain 
 that God loves not the wicked and unjust, although 
 he may do them good : he has had an extreme aver- 
 sion for a Caligula, for a Nero, and other such like 
 monsters, although he has caused his sun to shine, 
 and sent his rain upon them. But he has dealt with 
 them as if he loved them ; and it is after this manner, 
 also, that we ought to deport ourselves towards our 
 enemies. It is not that we are not bound sincerely 
 to endeavour, as much as in us lies, to retain in our 
 hearts some sentiments of friendship for them ; but 
 there are certain persons so lewd, so profligate, and 
 so abominable, for whom it is impossible to have 
 these sentiments. And it is upon this account that 
 charity is yet greater, more generous, and praise- 
 worthy, when, notwithstanding that aversion which 
 we cannot hinder ourselves from bearing to certain 
 persons, we cease not to do them good upon occa- 
 sion, with the prospect of yielding obedience unto 
 God. 
 
 As for the rest, by what we have hitherto said, it 
 may be judged how exceedingly the public is be- 
 holden to the R. F. Incorcetta and Couplet, who have 
 translated, out of Chinese into Latin, the three books
 
 PREFACE. VU. 
 
 of Confucius, from which we have extracted this 
 piece of morality, which is now divulged. We have 
 selected the most important things, and have omitted 
 several, which, although good in themselves, and 
 particularly agreeable to the genius of the persons 
 for whom they have been said and written, would have 
 seemed, perhaps, too common and inconsiderable to 
 Europeans. And, forasmuch as in the work of the 
 R. F. Incorcetta and Couplet, a discourse is made 
 concerning the origin of the Chinese nation, and of 
 the most ancient books which this nation enjoys, and 
 which were extant several ages before that of Confu- 
 cius, we have, therefore, translated what on this ac- 
 count is most necessary to be known. 
 
 It is here requisite, for the reader's satisfaction, to 
 declare, that the Chinese, from the beginning of their 
 origin to the times of Confucius, have not been idol- 
 ators ; that they have had neither false gods nor 
 images ; that they have paid ad oration only t o the 
 Creator of the universe^ whom they have always 
 called^ Xam-ti^ and to whom their third emperor, 
 named Hoam-ti, erected a tem ple, which was j)ro; 
 bably the Jirst thaijo^aisJbiin t to God^ The name of 
 Xam-ti, which they attribute to God, signifies sove- 
 reign master, or emperor. It is observable that there 
 have been a great many of the Chinese emperors that 
 have very frequently assumed the surname of Ti, which 
 imports master, emperor, or thatof Vam, which signi- 
 fies king ; that there was one prince of the fourth race, 
 who was called Xi Hoam Ti, the great, or august, 
 emperor ; but there is not found any that has dared 
 to assume the title of Xam, — that is to say, sovereign,
 
 viii. PREFACE. 
 
 and that they have always respectfully left it to the 
 absolute judge of the universe. 
 
 It is true that, in China, sacrifices have ever been, 
 offered to divers tutelary angels : but, in the times 
 which preceded Confucius, it was in respect of 
 honouring them infinitely less than Xam-ti, the sove- 
 reign lord of the world. 
 
 The Chi nese s erve God with extraordinary pomp 
 and magnificence, but, at the same time, with a very 
 modest and very humble behaviour; and say, that 
 all this external worship is in nowise agreeable to the 
 Divinity, if the soul be not inwardly adorned with 
 piety and virtue. They high ly honour their fathers 
 and mothers, a nd persons adv anced in age. The 
 women are very v irtuous : and, in their habits and 
 all their fashions, great modesty is observed. The 
 men and women, nobles and peasants, kings and 
 subjects, greatly esteem sobriety, frugality, modera- 
 tion, justice, and virtue. 
 
 The religion and piety of the Chinese continued 
 almost in this state unto the time of the philosopher 
 Li Lao Kiun, who was contemporary with Confucius, 
 and who first declared there were several gods. 
 Confucius put a stop to the torrent of superstition 
 and idolatry which began to overflow. But, in fine, 
 when Fohi's idol was brought from the Indies, — that 
 is to say, sixty-five years after Jesus Christ, this tor- 
 rent so strongly overflowed, that it made an irruption, 
 the sad effects of which are still seen. 
 
 It were to be wished that there had, from time to time, 
 been raised more of these Confuciuses : things would 
 not be in the posture in which they are at China.
 
 PREFACE. IX 
 
 This great man instructed, as well by his manners 
 and example, as by his precepts : and his precepts 
 are so just, so necessary, and proposed with so much 
 gravity, and at the same time with so much meek- 
 ness and ingenuity, that they must needs easily 
 insinuate themselves into our hearts, and produce 
 great effects therein. Read only this little Treatise, 
 which is sufficient to give you a very great and ple- 
 nary satisfaction.
 
 THE LIFE OF CONFUCIUS. 
 
 Confucius, or Kong-fu-tse, the most distinguished 
 and venerated of the Ciiinese philosophers, and a 
 descendant from the imperial family of the dynasty 
 of Shang, was boin in the kingdom of Lu, now the 
 province of Shangtong, about 550 years before the 
 Christian era. According to this date, which is sup- 
 ported by the best authorities, he must have been 
 contemporary with Pythagoras and Solon, and some 
 time earlier than Socrates. While he was yet very 
 young, he afforded indications of extraordinary abi- 
 lities, which were cultivated with uncommon appli- 
 cation under the direction of able instructors. Almost 
 as soon as he had arrived at the years of manhood, 
 he had made astonishing proficiency in all the learn- 
 ing of his time, and was particularly conversant in 
 the ancient canonical and ecclesiastical books attri- 
 buted to the legislators Yao and Chun, which the 
 Chinese call, by way of eminence, The Five Vo- 
 lumes, and consider to be the course of all their 
 science and morality. His natural temper was ex- 
 cellent, and his conduct irreproachable and exem- 
 plary. He was particularly praised for his humanity, 
 humility, sincerity, temperance, disinterestedness,
 
 THE LIFE OF CONFUCIUS. 11 
 
 and contempt of riches. The reputation which Con- 
 fucius acquired by his accomplishments and virtues 
 occasioned his being appointed to different places of 
 eminence in the magistracy of iiis country ; which he 
 filled with honour to himself, and signal benefit to 
 the kingdom. The public situations in which he 
 officiated enabled him to form an accurate judgment 
 of tlie state of morals among his countrymen, which 
 had become deplorable, corrupt, and vicious ; and 
 induced him to form the scheme of a general reform- 
 ation in morals, manners, and policy. This scheme 
 he endeavoured to carry into execution by preaching 
 up a strict and pure morality, and using all the in- 
 fluence of his authority, and of his virtues, in recom- 
 mending it. 
 
 Such success attended his efforts for some time, 
 that he deservedly became an object of public rever- 
 ence and gratitude, and was raised to a place of the 
 highest trust in the kingdom of Lu. In this situation 
 his counsels and advice produced the happiest effects, 
 by the introduction of order, justice, concord, and 
 decorum, throughout the whole kingdom, and ren- 
 dering it the subject of admiration, and unfortunately 
 also of envy, in the dominions of the neighbouring 
 princes. According to general representation, the 
 king of Tsi, dreading that the king of Lu would be- 
 come too powerful if he continued to be directed by 
 the wisdom and good policy of Confucius, devised 
 the expedient of sending to him and his nobles a 
 present of beautiful young girls, who had from their 
 infancy been trained up in every captivating accom» 
 plishment ; of which the consequence was, an entire 
 
 b2
 
 12 THE LIFE OF CONFUCIUS. 
 
 abandonment of the business of the state, and an 
 universal eireiiiinacy and dissoluteness of manners. 
 To whatever cause it was owing, a sad degeneracy 
 appears to have taken place in the court and kingv- 
 dom of Lu ; which determined Confucius, after re^ 
 peatcdly inefl'ectual struggles against it, to quit his 
 employment, and to retire to some other kingdom, 
 where his endeavours to promote reformation might 
 prove more successful. After traversing different 
 kingdoms, in which the confused state of public 
 affairs, and the predominancy of the worst vices, af- 
 forded him little hopes of success in his grand scheme, 
 and exposed him also to many inconveniences and 
 much personal danger, he devoted himself to the 
 business of more private instruction in philosophy and 
 morality. His fame and his virtues soon procured 
 him a great number of disciples, who continued firmly 
 attached to his person and doctrine; of whom he sent 
 six hundred into different parts of the empire, for the 
 purpose of enlightening and reforming the people. 
 Seventy-two of his disciples w^ere distinguished from 
 the rest, and are celebrated in the Chinese annals, 
 on account of the superiority of their attainments; 
 and ten of these above the others, for their complete 
 knowledge of the principles and doctrines of their 
 master. They were divided by him into four classes. 
 The more immediate province of the first class was 
 the study of the moral virtues; of the second, that of 
 the arts of reasoning and eloquence; of the third, that 
 of the rules of good government, and the duties of 
 the magistracy ; and the appropriate business of the 
 fourth was what we may call public preaching, or the 
 
 3
 
 THE LIFE OF CONFUCIUS. 13 
 
 delivery of correct and polished popular discourses on 
 moral subjects. But, great and unwearied as were 
 the exertions of this philosopher for promoting the 
 reformation of his countrymen, the task was too 
 mighty to be accomplished by his powers ; which 
 sensibly affected his mind as he advanced in life. 
 During his last sickness, he acknowledged to his dis- 
 ciples, that his heart was overpowered with grief on 
 beholding the disorders which prevailed in the em- 
 pire; and he mournfully exclaimed, "Immense 
 mountain !" (alluding to that edifice of perfection 
 which he had been endeavouring to rear,) " how art 
 thou fallen ! The grand machine is demolished, and 
 the wise and the virtuous are no more." And he 
 afterwards added, " The kings and princes tvill not 
 follow my maxims : I am no longer useful on earth : 
 it is, therefore, time that I should quit it." 
 
 These words were followed by a lethargy, from 
 which he never recovered. He died in the 73d year 
 of his age, in his native kingdom, whither he had 
 returned, accompanied by his disciples. After his 
 death, he was lamented by the whole empire; in 
 which innumerable edifices have been raised to his 
 honour, with such inscriptions as the following: — To 
 the Great Master ; — To the Chief Doctor; — To the 
 Saint; — To the Wise King of Literature ; — To the 
 Instructor of Emperors and Kings. And so high is 
 the respect paid to his memory, in the present day, 
 that his descendants enjoy by inheritance the honour- 
 able title and office of mandarins, and are allowed 
 the privilege, in common with the princes of the 
 blood, of exemption from the payment of all taxes to
 
 14 THE LIFE OF CONFUCIUS. 
 
 the emperor. And, moreover, it is requisite, before 
 any person can be admitted to the title of doctor, that 
 a present shall have been made by him to a mandarin 
 of the race of our philosopher. 
 
 The works which Confucius composed for the use 
 of his disciples, and the preservation of his philoso- 
 phy, are looked upon by the Chinese as of the first 
 authority, next to the ancient classical books. So 
 great was the author's modesty, however, that it led 
 him to disclaim all pretensions in them to originality, 
 and to declare himself indebted, for the information 
 and ^visdom which they convey, to the Five Vo- 
 lumes. These works are: — 1. Tay-hio, i.e. The 
 Grand Science, or School of Adults; designed prin- 
 cipally for the instruction of princes and magistrates, 
 and enforcing the duties of self-government, and of 
 perseverance in the chief good, or an unifoi'ni obe- 
 dience to the laws of right reason. 2. The Cliong- 
 yo?i(j, or The Immutable Medium ; the practice of 
 which, in the exercise of the passions, is illustrated 
 by examples, and shewn to be the true method of 
 arriving at perfection in virtue. 3. Liing-yu, or 
 Moral and Pithy Discourses ; containing a view of 
 the actions, sentiments, and maxims, of Confucius 
 and his disciples. 4. 3Ieng-toe, or The Book of 
 P.Iencius ; so called from a disciple of Confucius, w ho 
 is suj)posed to have completed it from his master's 
 writings. The preceding articles are considered as 
 entitled to the highest estimation, next to The Five 
 Volumes: to which are to be added, 5. The Hyau- 
 king, which treats of the reverence due from children 
 to parents ; and, 6. The Syan-byo, or The School or
 
 THE LIFE OP CONFUCIUS. 15 
 
 Science of Children ; consisting of sentences and 
 examples taken from ancient and modern authors. 
 
 The religious principles of Confucius, when fully 
 considered, appear to amount to pure and rational 
 theism. He has been accused, by some illiberal 
 critics on the writings of the missionaries of China, 
 of having maintained, and covertly propagated, 
 atheistical notions. But such a conclusion can only 
 have been unwarrantably deduced from some dark 
 expressions in his writings, which seem to conceal 
 the idea of materiality with that of Deity. It is to- 
 tally irreconcileable with his language, that the 
 Tyen, or Deity, is the most pure and perfect essence, 
 principle, and foundation of all things, — that he is 
 independent and almighty, and watches over the go- 
 vernment of the universe, so that no event can 
 happen but by his will and power, — that he is pos- 
 sessed of such infinite knowledge, that our most 
 secret thoughts are not hidden from him, — that he is 
 holy without partiality, and of such boundless 
 goodness and justice, that he cannot possibly let 
 virtue go unrewarded, or vice unpunished. With 
 regard to his sentiments respecting the human soul, 
 and a state of future rewards and punishments, no 
 precise and determinate ideas can be derived from 
 any of the accounts which the missionaries have 
 transmitted to us. His morality is rational and ex- 
 cellent, and often sublime. It may, w ithout disad- 
 vantage, challenge a comparison with that of any of 
 the Grecian or Roman sages, and is inferior to none, 
 either ancient or modern. 
 
 It may not be improper to add, that, although the
 
 16 THE LIFE OF CONFUCIUS. 
 
 Chinese profess the greatest veneration for the person 
 and writings of Confucius, few of them, excepting 
 the literati, take him for their guide in religious mat- 
 ters. Their predominant system comprehends a 
 mixture of the ancient Pagan idolatry, and of the 
 fables and superstitions of Indian mythology, consti- 
 tuting the worship of Fo, or Foe ; which was intro- 
 duced into China within the first century of the 
 Christian era. — See Moreri. Anc. Univers. Hist. vol. 
 20 ; Mod. Univers. Hist. vol. 7. ; and Aikiu's Ge- 
 neral Biography, vol. 3.
 
 THE 
 
 MORALS OF CONFUCIUS, 
 
 A CHINESE PHILOSOPHER. 
 
 PART I. 
 
 OF THE ANTIQUITY AND PHILOSOPHY 
 OF THE CHINESE. 
 
 Although, in this little work, our design is only to 
 relate what is most remarkable in the books of Confu- 
 cius, yet we are obliged to speak of some books which 
 had appeared in China before this philosopher. But, as 
 this cannot be done without going a little backward, 
 we will discourse one word concerning the origin and 
 antiquity of the Chinese. 
 
 The Chinese chronologists do almost all agree that 
 Fohi, who began to reign 2952 years before the birth 
 of Jesus Christ, was the founder of this monarchy. 
 The Chinese, who have interpreted these annals, 
 make no difficulty to avowj that whatever is written 
 concerning China before the reign of this emperor is 
 fabulous and suspicious ; and one of their most re- 
 nowned historians, named Taisucum, frankly con- 
 fesses that he is ignorant of what passed before the 
 reign of Xinum, the successor of Fohi. There are 
 
 c
 
 18 THE MOKALS OF CONFUCIUS, 
 
 only certain annals, which the Chinese call the Great 
 Annals, wherein the thing is otherwise read. The 
 author of this prodigious chronology, which contains 
 almost an hundred and fifty volumes, reports, that, 
 after the creation of the world, there were three em- 
 perors, — the one of heaven, the other of the earth, and 
 the third of men ; that the progeny of this last suc- 
 ceeded one another for the space of above forty-nine 
 thousand years ; after which, thirty-five imperial fa- 
 mihes reigned successively for several ages, and 
 without interruption. This author likewise adds, 
 that he justifies not what he says ; and at last agrees, 
 that it is more certain to begin with Fohi, and herein 
 to follow the most famous and best reputed historians. 
 It is not that in Fohi's life they have not inserted 
 an infinite number of fables, which might cause us 
 to question w^hether this emperor ever was : for, be- 
 sides that in the Great Annals, it is read, that Fohi's 
 mother, accidentally stepping into a place where a 
 giant had passed, she was suddenly encompassed 
 with a rainbow, and that it was at this very moment 
 tiiat she perceived herself with child of the founder of 
 the Chinese monarchy ; where it is also related, that 
 this founder had the head of a man, and body of a 
 serpent. It is true that, these fables being very gross, 
 the generality of the Chinese deride them. They 
 report, that the ground of this ridiculous tradition 
 was the colour of Fohi's body, w hich was marked 
 with several spots ; or, rather, that it was an hiero- 
 glyphic, whereby they intended to represent this 
 prince as a man of extraordinary prudence. But^ 
 although we had not this consideration and prospect, 
 3
 
 A CHINESE PHILOSOPHER. 19 
 
 the genealogy of this king is so exact, so circumstan- 
 tial, and so well prosecuted, in the chronological 
 tables of the Chinese, that it is not possible to imagine 
 it only a fancy: so that there is certainly as little 
 reason to deny, or even to question, that Fohi ever 
 was, as to maintain that Saturn, Jupiter, Hercules, 
 and Romulus, are only names under pretence, and 
 that the poets and gravest historians have intermixed 
 the history of their birth with a thousand impertinent 
 fables. 
 
 Nevertheless, these very annals, which contain so 
 many fables upon the account of Fohi's birth, say 
 nothing of his predecessors, and speak very imper- 
 fectly concerning his country ; which makes us sus- 
 pect that he was not born in China, and that he came 
 thither from some other place. They only intimate 
 that he was born in a province called Kensi ; where 
 he, indeed, must necessarily arrive, supposing that he 
 came from some other part into China: for, after the 
 confusion of tongues, and dispersion of the people, he 
 must come from Mesopotamia, or from the territory 
 of Sennaar, to land at Kensi, and afterwards arrive 
 in the heart of the country, viz. — in the province of 
 Honan, where it is written that he kept his court. 
 
 Although we cannot exactly know at what time 
 Fohi laid the first foundations of his empire, yet it is 
 very probable that it was not long after the deluge : 
 for, indeed, if we vigorously follow the computations 
 of the Chinese, and the chronology of the Septuagint, 
 it was not till about two hundred years after, in a 
 time when Noah was yet living ; so that we may 
 readily believe that he is descended from this patriarch 
 
 c 2
 
 20 THE MORALS OF CONFUCIUS, 
 
 by Sem, >vl)o, according to the sentiment of the 
 Avhole \^ Olid, had A.sia for liis inheritance. And that 
 which more confirms us in our opinion is, that, in the 
 Chinese language, Sem, wliich .signifies to engender 
 and produce, impoiis also liie and sacrifice. Indeed, 
 it is from Noah's children that all men since the de- 
 luge are descended, and have received life, and have 
 learned to offer sacrifice unto God. Whereunto it 
 might be added, that Fohi is by the Chinese called 
 Paohi, which signifies also a victim, because that he 
 was the first of Sem's posterity that introduced the 
 service of God, and the use of sacrifices, among 
 them. 
 
 But, if we refuse to adhere to the computations 
 before-mentioned, let us retrench, with their leave, 
 the first six emperors, whose history cannot in every 
 thing be true, and let us begin to compute only from 
 the seventh, viz. — from the Emperor Yao. For, from 
 this emperor's reign, so many persons have, by cy- 
 cles, computed and written whatever has passed in 
 this kingdom, and have done it with so much exact- 
 ness, and such a general uniformity, that we can no 
 more doubt of the truth of their calculation, than that 
 of the Greek Olympiads. For we shall also find, 
 according to that computation, that the origin of the 
 Chinese nation was not long after the flood ; for, from 
 the time of Yao to the year of this age (1688), it is 
 four thousand forty and eight years. 
 
 This being so, it must necessarily follow that the 
 first inhabitants of China had likewise the true know- 
 ledge of God, and of the creation of the world; for 
 the idea of the true God, and the remembrance of
 
 A CHINESE PHILOSOPHER. 21 
 
 the world's creation, continued, in the minds of men, 
 a long time after the deluge, and even of those that 
 were most corrupted, — as the posterity of Cham, for 
 example. Indeed, besides that, in the annals of the 
 Chinese, a discourse is there made concerning the 
 creation of the world, although after a different me- 
 thod from Moses's history ; yet it was not possible 
 that these ideas of the true God, which the creation 
 of the world, and after that the deluge, had deeply 
 engraven in their hearts, could be so suddenly effaced 
 in such a manner as that they should fall into idol- 
 atry, and follow after other gods than Him who had 
 created them. But, the more thoroughly to convince 
 us of what we have been discoursing, it is needful 
 only to consider the doctrine, sentiments, and man- 
 ners of the ancient Chinese, the books of their philo- 
 sophers, and especially those of Confucius. Certainly 
 we shall throuahont observe the most excellent mo- 
 rality that ever was taught, — a morality which might 
 be said to proceed from the school of Jesus Christ. 
 
 The books which the ancient Chinese have written 
 are exceedingly numerous, but the chief are those 
 which are called Ukim, — that is to say. The Five 
 Volumes ; and those entitled Su Xu, — that is to say, 
 The Four Books. (See the Life of Confuchis.J 
 
 The first and chiefest of these five volumes is called 
 XuKin. It is not necessary very amply to discourse 
 on the antiquity of this work : it is sufficient to say 
 that, in perusing it, we find the author to have written 
 a long time before Moses. At first, there is seen the 
 iiistory of three great kings, viz. — Yao, Xun, and 
 Vu ; the last of which was the first and chief of the
 
 '22 THE MORALS OF CONFUCIUS, 
 
 family Hia, the most considerable of all the imperial 
 families : and the two others have been famous law- 
 givers, and, as it were, the Solons of China. Therein 
 is afterwards found the most important constitutions 
 that were made during the reign of the second family, 
 or imperial house, called Xam and Vu, especially by 
 Chimtam, who was the founder thereof, and who 
 arrived at the empire 1776 years before the coming 
 of Jesus Christ. In fine, a discourse is there made 
 of the third family ; wherein is chiefly related what 
 was said or done most remarkable under the govern- 
 ment of the first five princes, and of the twelfth. 
 There is represented the history of Vuvam, who was 
 the chief of this third family, and the lucubrations 
 and instructions of the illustrious Cheucum, the bro- 
 ther of this emperor, who was a prince highly esteemed 
 both for his virtue and extraordinary prudence. This 
 whole volume, not to multiply words, is only an his- 
 torical relation and collection of moral maxims, of 
 harangues spoken by princes, of sentences uttered by 
 the mouths of kings and particular persons, and of 
 precepts and counsel given to princes; wherein so 
 much prudence, policy, wisdom, and religion, are set 
 forth, that they might be given to all Christian 
 princes. 
 
 The second volume, which is properly a recital of 
 the customs and ordinances of almost twelve kings, 
 is entitled Xi Kim. It is a collection of odes, and 
 several other little poems of this nature ; for music 
 being greatly esteemed and much used in China, and 
 whatever is published in this volume having respect 
 only to the purity of manners and the practice of
 
 A CHINESE PHILOSOPHER. 23 
 
 virtue, those that wrote it composed it in verse, to 
 the end that, every one being enabled to sing the 
 things therein contained, they might be in every one's 
 mouth. Virtue is there magnified and extolled to the 
 highest degree ; and there are so many things ex- 
 pressed, after a method so grave and wise, that it is 
 impossible not to admire them. It is very true that 
 therein are contained things very ridiculous, — extra- 
 vagant hyperboles in favour of certain princes, and 
 murmurings and repinings against God and heaven : 
 but the most judicious interpreters are of opinion, 
 that all this is suspicious ; that those to whom they 
 are attributed are not the authors ; that they are not 
 to be credited, as being since added. Indeed, the 
 other ancient odes, they say, contain nothing ridicu- 
 lous, extravagant, or criminal ; as appears by these 
 words of Confucius, " The whole doctrine of the 
 three hundred poems is reduced to these few words 
 — Sii Vu Sie; which import that we ought not to 
 think any thing that is wicked or impure." 
 
 The third volume is called Ye Kim. In this vo- 
 lume, which is the most ancient, if it may be called a 
 volume, nothing but obscurity and darkness are ob- 
 served. Fohi had no sooner founded his empire than 
 he gave instructions to the Chinese ; but, the use of 
 characters and writing being unknown, this prince, 
 who could not teach them all with his voice, and who 
 was moreover employed in the advancement of his 
 growing monarchy, after a long and serious conside- 
 ration, thought at last upon making a table, com- 
 posed of some little lines, which it is not necessary to 
 describe. The Chinese being as yet dull and rustic,
 
 24 THE MORALS OF CONFUCIUS, 
 
 it is probable that this prince laboured in vain ; and 
 if it be true that he accomplished his design by the 
 clear and easy explications which he himself gave for 
 the understanding of these lines, it happened, at least 
 insensibly, that this table became useless : for it is 
 certain that, after his death, no use could be made 
 thereof. Two thousand years, from the foundation of 
 the monarchy, were now nearly elapsed, no one being- 
 able in any way to decipher this mysterious table, when 
 at last an (Edipus was seen to appear: he was a 
 prince named Venvam. This prince endeavoured to 
 penetrate the sense of these lines by a great number 
 of others, which he disposed after different ways: 
 they were new enigmas. His son (viz. Cheucum) 
 attempted the same thing ; but had not the good for- 
 tune to succeed better. In brief, five hundred years 
 after appeared Confucius, who endeavoured to untie 
 this Gordian knot. He explained, according to his 
 understanding, the little lines of the founder, with the 
 interpretations that had been made before him, and 
 refers all to the nature of beings and elements, — to 
 the manners and discipline of men. It is true that 
 Confucius, being arrived at a more advanced age, 
 acknowledged his mistake, and designed to make new 
 commentaries on this enigmatical work; but death 
 hindered him from fulfilling his resolution. 
 
 To the fourth volume Confucius has given the title 
 of Chun Cieu ; words which signify the spring and 
 autunm. He composed it in his old age. He dis- 
 courses, like an historian, of the expeditions of divers 
 princes ; of their virtues and vices ; of the fatigues 
 they underwent, \vith the recompenses they received.
 
 A CHINESE PHILOSOPHER. 25 
 
 Confucius desioned to this fourth volume the title of 
 Spring and Autumn, which is an emblematical title, 
 because that states flourish when their princes are 
 endowed with virtue and wisdom ; which is repre- 
 sented by the Spring : and that, on the contrary, they 
 fall like the leaves, and are utterly destroyed, when 
 their princes are dispirited or are wicked ; which is 
 represented by the Autumn. 
 
 The fifth volume, entitled Li Ki, or Memoirs of 
 Rites and Duties, is composed of two books, the 
 matter of which is extracted by Confucius out of 
 several other books, and of various monuments of 
 antiquity. But, about three hundred years after, all 
 the copies of the work being burnt, by the command 
 of a cruel emperor, called Xihoam«ti, and this loss 
 being impossible to be repaired any other way than 
 by consulting the most aged persons that might have 
 preserved any ideas thereof, it is not to be questioned 
 that the work is at present exceedingly defective, 
 even as the interpreters themselves acknowledge. 
 There are, indeed, several things herein wanting, 
 and a great many others added, which never w^ere in 
 Confucius's copies. However, in this whole volume, 
 such as it is, he treats of the rites, as well sacred as 
 profane ; of all sorts of duties, such as were practised 
 in the time of the three families of the princes Hia, 
 Xam, and Cheu ; but especially of him who reigned 
 in Confucius's time. These duties are those of pa- 
 rents to their children ; those of children to their 
 parents ; the duties of husband and w ife ; those of 
 friends ; those which respect hospitality ; and those 
 which are necessary to be performed at home, or 
 
 D
 
 26 THE MORALS OF CONFUCIUS, 
 
 at feasts. He there discourses likewise of the vessels 
 of the sacrifices ; of the victims that were to be offered 
 up to heaven; of the temples to be chosen for that 
 end ; of the respect we ought to have for the dead ; 
 and of their obsequies, or funeral rites. In a word, 
 he therein treats of the liberal arts, — especially of 
 music, of the military art, of the way of lancing a 
 javelin, and guiding a chariot. Behold, in brief, 
 what The Five Volumes contain. 
 
 The Four Books, the three first of which are Con- 
 fucius's books, (whereof we design to speak,) com- 
 prehend the whole philosophy of the Chinese ; at 
 least, whatever this philosophy has most curious and 
 considerable. They explain, and more clearly illus* 
 trate, what is written in the Five Volumes : and, 
 although the authority of the Five Volumes be infi- 
 nitely greater, by reason of their antiquity, than that 
 of the Four Volumes, yet the Four Volumes exceed 
 the others for the advantage that may be received 
 therefrom. Indeed, besides that the Chinese thence 
 derive their principal oracles, and what they believe 
 to be eternal verities, the literati (who are philoso- 
 phers that follow Confucius's doctrine, and who have 
 in their own hands all the employments of the nation,) 
 cannot arrive at the degree of philosophers, and 
 consequently be mandarins or magistrates, without a 
 great knowledge of these Four Books. They are, in 
 truth, under an obligation to know one of the Five 
 Volumes, whichsoever they please to choose, accord- 
 ing to their fancy and inclination : but, as for the 
 Four Books, they are indispensably obliged to know 
 them all four by heart, and thoroughly to understand
 
 A CHINESE PHILOSOPHER. 27 
 
 them. The principal reasons of which are as follows : 
 — the first is, that Confucius, and Mencius, who wrote 
 the Fourth Book, have collected what is best and most 
 exquisite in the works of the ancients. The second 
 is, that they have added several good things to the 
 discoveries and thoughts of their ancestors. The 
 third, that Confucius and Mencius propose their doc- 
 trine after a clearer and politer method than was 
 formerly done. In fine, it is because that Confucius 
 and Mencius have, in the Four Books, avoided the 
 dull and harsh style of the ancients ; and, by a smooth 
 style, although without pride and arrogancy, have 
 added ornaments to the naked simplicity of the golden 
 age. 
 
 We have nothing to say concerning the Fourth 
 Book, because that this work of Mencius has not as 
 yet appeared in Europe ; and we have already pub- 
 lished the merit of Confucius, in the brief sketch we 
 have given of his life. 
 
 d2
 
 A 
 
 COLLECTION 
 
 OUT OF 
 
 CONFUCIUS'S WORKS. 
 
 PART II. BOOK I. 
 
 The First Book of Confucius was published by one of 
 his most famous disciples, named Cem^u ; and this 
 learned disciple wrote very excellent commentaries 
 thereon. This book is, as it were, the gate through 
 which it is necessary to pass to arrive at the most 
 sublime wisdom, and the most perfect virtue. The 
 philosopher here treats of three considerable things. 
 
 1. Of what we ought to do to cultivate our minds^ 
 and regulate our manners. 
 
 2. Of the method by which it is necessary to in- 
 struct and guide others. 
 
 3. Of the care that every one ought to have to tend 
 to the sovereign good, to adhere thereunto, and, as I 
 may say, to repose himself therein. 
 
 Because the author chieflv designed to address his 
 instructions to the princes and magistrates that might 
 be called to the regality: this book is entitled Ta Hioy 
 or The Great Science.
 
 THE MORALS OF CONFUCIUS. 29 
 
 " The great secret," says Confucius, " to acquire 
 true knowledge, — the knowledge, consequently, wor- 
 thy of princes and the most illustrious personages, — 
 is, to cultivate and polish the reason, which is a pre- 
 sent that we have received from heaven. Our con- 
 cupiscence has disordered it, and intermixed several 
 impurities therewith. Take away, therefore, and 
 remove from it these impurities, to the end that it 
 may re-assume its former lustre, and enjoy its utmost 
 perfection. This is a sovereign good. But this is 
 not sufficient. It is moreover requisite, that a prince, 
 by his exhortations, and by his own example, make 
 of his people, as it were, a new people. In fine, 
 after being, by great pains, arrived at this sovereign 
 perfection, at this chief good, you must not relax : it 
 is here that perseverance is absolutely necessary. 
 Whereas, men do not generally pursue the methods 
 w^hich lead to the possession of the sovereign good, 
 and to a constant and eternal possession," Confucius 
 has thought it highly important to give some instruc- 
 tions therein. 
 
 He says, " That, after we know the end to which 
 w^e must attain, it is necessary to determine, and 
 incessantly to make towards this end, by w alking in 
 the ways which lead thereunto; by daily confirming 
 in our mind the resolution fixed on for the attaining 
 of it; and by establishing it so well, that nothing 
 may in the least shake it. 
 
 " When you shall have thus fixed your mind in this 
 great design, give up yourself," adds he, " to medi- 
 tation : reason upon all things within yourself; en- 
 deavour to have some clear ideas thereof; consider
 
 30 THE MORALS OF CONFUCIUS, 
 
 distinctly what presenteth itself to you ; pass, with- 
 out prejudice, solid judgments thereon; examine 
 every thing, and weigh evei^ thing with care. After 
 examination and reasonings of this nature, you may 
 easily arrive at the end where you must fix, — at the 
 end where you ought resolutely to stand, — viz. at a 
 perfect conformity of all your actions wdth what rea- 
 son suggests. 
 
 "As to the means which a prince ought to use to 
 purify and polish his reason, to the end that, it being 
 thus disposed, he may govern his states, and redress 
 and beautify the reason of liis people, the philosopher 
 proposes after what manner the ancient kings go- 
 verned themselves. 
 
 " That they might at last govern their empire 
 wisely, they endeavoured," saith he, " prudently to 
 sway a particular kingdom, and to excite its members 
 to improve their reason, and to act like creatures 
 endowed with understanding. To produce this re- 
 formation in this particular kingdom, they laboured 
 to regulate their family, to the end that it might serve 
 as a model to all the subjects of this kingdom. To 
 reform their family, they took an extraordinary care 
 to polish their own person, and so well to compose 
 their words and actions, that they might neither say 
 nor do any thing that might ever so little offend com- 
 plaisance, and which was not edifying ; to the end 
 that they themselves might be a pattern and example 
 continually exposed to the eyes of their domestics 
 and all their courtiers. To obtain this exterior per- 
 fection, they strove to rectify their mind by govern- 
 ing and subduing their passions; because that the
 
 A CHINESE PHILOSOPHER. 31 
 
 passions, for the most part, remove the mind from its 
 natural rectitude, abase and incline it to all sorts of 
 vice. To rectify their mind, to rule and subdue their 
 passions, they so acted, that their will was always 
 bent to good, and never turned towards evil. In 
 fine, thus to dispose their will, they studied to illu- 
 minate their understanding, and so well to enlighten 
 it, that, if it were possible, they might be ignorant of 
 nothing: for, to will, desire, love, and hate, it is ne- 
 cessary to knotv. This is the philosophy of right 
 reason." 
 
 This is what Confucius proposed to the princes, to 
 instruct them how to rectify and polish, first their 
 own reason, and afterwards the reason and persons 
 of all their subjects. But, to make the greater im- 
 pression, after having gradually descended from the 
 wise conduct of the whole empire, to the perfection of 
 the understanding, he re-ascends, by the same de- 
 grees, from their illuminated understandings to the 
 happy state of the whole empire. " If," saith he, 
 " the understanding of a prince be well enlightened, 
 his Will cannot but incline to good : his Will inclin- 
 ing only to good, his soul will be entirely rectified ; 
 there will not be any passion that can make him 
 abandon his rectitude : the soul being thus rectified, he 
 will be composed in his exterior ; nothing will be 
 observed in his person that can offend complaisance. 
 His person being thus perfected, his family, forming 
 itself according to this model, will be reformed and 
 amended. His family being arrived at this perfec- 
 tion, it will serve as an example to all the subjects 
 of the particular kingdom ; and the members of the 
 
 1
 
 -32 THE MORALS OF CONFUCIUS^ 
 
 particular kingdom to all those that compose th^ 
 body of the empire. Thus, the whole empire will be 
 well governed ; order and justice will reign there ; 
 we shall there enjoy a profound peace ; it will be an 
 happy and flourishing empire. Confucius afterwards 
 certilles, that these admonitions do not less regard 
 the subjects than the princes ; and, after having ad- 
 dressed himself to kings, he tells them, that they 
 ought particularly to apply themselves rightly to go- 
 vern their family, to take care thereof, and reform : 
 " for," he adds, " it is impossible that he who knows 
 not how to govern and reform his own family can 
 rightly govern and reform a people." 
 
 Behold what is most important in Confucius's doc- 
 trine, contained in the first book, and which is the 
 text, as I may say, whereon his commentator Cem9U 
 hath taken pains. 
 
 This famous disciple, to explain and enlarge his 
 master's instructions, alleges authorities and exam- 
 ples, which he draws from three very ancient books, 
 highly esteemed by the Chinese. 
 
 The first book he mentions, which is of a later 
 date than the rest, is entitled Camcao, and makes up 
 a part of the chronicles of the empire of Cheu. This 
 book was composed by a prince called Vuvam, the 
 son of King Venvam. Vuvam does therein highly 
 extol his father : but his principal design, in magni- 
 fying the virtues and admirable qualities of this 
 prince, is to form, according to this model, one of his 
 brothers, whom he would perfect in virtue : and it is 
 observable that he ordinarily tells him, that their 
 lather had the art of being virtuous ; — " Venvam,"
 
 A CHINESE PHILOSOPHER. 33 
 
 said he to him, " had the art of polishing his reason 
 and his person." 
 
 The Second book from whence Cem9u cites his 
 authorities and examples, is called Tar-Kia. This 
 book, which is much more ancient than the first, was 
 written by a famous emperor of Xam, named Y-Yin. 
 It is therein read, that this Y-Yin, seeing Tar-Kia, 
 the grandson of the emperor Chim-Tam, degenerate 
 from the virtue of his illustrious ancestors, and carry 
 himself after a manner wholly different from their 
 example, commanded him to live three years in a 
 garden, where was his grandfather's tomb : that this 
 made so great an impression upon his spirit, that he 
 changed his course ; and that the same Y-Yin, who 
 had done him so kind an office, having afterwards 
 advanced him to the empire, Tar-Kia governed it a 
 long time in great prosperity. " King Tam," said 
 Y-Yin to Tar-Kia, " King Tam always had his mind 
 disposed to cultivate that precious reason which has 
 been given us from Heaven." 
 
 In fine, the Third book, w^hich is more ancient than 
 the two former, is called Ti-Tien ; and, upon the 
 occasion of King Yao, it is there read, that this prince 
 could cultivate this sublime virtue, this great and 
 sublime gift which he had received from Heaven, — 
 viz. natural reason. 
 
 It is evident that Confucius's disciple, by these 
 authorities, designed to shew, or rather supposes, 
 that the whole world believes that we have all re- 
 ceived from heaven those lights which most men 
 suffer to become extinct by their negligence, a rea- 
 son which most men voluntarily slight, and suffer to 
 
 E
 
 34 THE MORALS OF CONFUCIUS, 
 
 become corrupt : and, seeing that there were princes 
 \vlio have perfected these Hghts, who have bettered 
 and improved their reason, we ought to imitate them, 
 and that we, as well as they by their endeavours, 
 may attain to such a perfection. 
 
 We must not here forget a remarkable thing which 
 Cem9U relates, touching a basin wherein King Tani 
 used to bathe and w ash himself. He says, that these 
 excellent words were there engraved — "Wash thy- 
 self; renew thyself continually ; renew thyself every 
 day ; renew thyself from day to day ;" and that it 
 was to intimate to the king, that, if a prince who go- 
 verns others has contracted vices and impurities, he 
 ought to labour to cleanse himself therefrom, and to 
 reduce his heart into its first state of purity. As for 
 the rest, it has been an ancient custom among the 
 Chinese to engrave or paint on their domestic vessels 
 some moral sentences, and strong exhortations to 
 virtue: so that, when they bathed themselves, or took 
 their repasts, they had these sentences and exliorta- 
 tions continually before their eyes. This ancient 
 custom is still preserved. " There is only this differ- 
 ence," says he who publishes Confucius's works, 
 " that, whereas heretofore the characters were en- 
 graven or painted on the inside of the vessel, in the 
 middle of the interior face, at present the Chinese 
 most frequently engrave or paint them on the outside ; 
 satisfying themselves, in this age, with the outward 
 appearance of virtue." 
 
 After Cem9u had spoken of the two first parts of 
 his master's doctrine, — the one of which respects 
 what a prince should do for his own perfection, and
 
 A CHINESE PHILOSOPHER. 35 
 
 the other what he is obliged to do for the perfection 
 and prosperity of others, — he proceeds to the third 
 and last part ; wherein he discourses of the last end 
 that every one ought to propose as the sovereign 
 good, and at which he ought to fix. We must re- 
 member that, by the last end and sovereign good, 
 Confucius understands, as we have already observed, 
 an entire conformity of our actions with right reason. 
 
 After this, he alleges the example of that Venvam 
 already spoken of : and certainly this prince's conduct 
 was so wise and regular, that we cannot, without 
 admiration, understand how, by the lights of nature 
 alone, he could have such ideas as he had, and could 
 arrive at so sublime a virtue as that to which he at- 
 tained. It will not be unpleasing to see something 
 of it here. 
 
 " Venvam," saiththe commentator, " acknowledged, 
 that the love which princes bear to their subjects 
 cannot but greatly contribute rightly to govern and 
 make them happy : and, upon this consideration, he 
 made this love his principal business, which he in- 
 cessantly endeavoured to perfect. Behold the method 
 he took : — Because that the principal virtue of a 
 subject is to honour and respect his king, Venvam, 
 being as yet a subject, set himself to render this ho- 
 nour and respect; and took so great a pleasure in 
 these sorts of obligations, that he always fulfilled them 
 with great fidelity. As the first and most important 
 virtue of children to their parents is obedience, 
 Venvam, in the relation of a son, adhered to this 
 obedience, and incessantly acquitted himself of this 
 duty with an extraordinary piety. The principal 
 
 e2
 
 36 THE MORALS OF CONFUCIUS, 
 
 virtue of a father," adds Confucius's disciple, " is a 
 tender love for his children : thus Venvam, like a 
 father, closely adhered to this love, whereof he conti- 
 nually gave very signal proofs ; not by a weak and 
 criminal indulgence, but by the continual cares he 
 took to reform and instruct them. In fine, fidelity is 
 a virtue absolutely necessary to those that live in 
 society : thus Venvam, in speaking and acting with 
 the subjects of this kingdom, kept closely to this duty, 
 and so strongly adhered to it, that he never promised 
 any thing which he effected not with an unspeakable 
 promptitude and exactness. 
 
 " This prince," says Cemcu, " was born of very vir- 
 tuous parents, who had taken great care of his educa- 
 tion, — especially his mother Taicin, who had been a 
 pattern of virtue: but he himself had so well improved 
 his education, that he rendered himself accomplished, 
 and acquitted himself with so much reputation, and 
 such a general esteem, even amongst foreign nations, 
 that forty-four kingdoms voluntarily submitted to his 
 empire. Nevertheless," adds he, " this great honour, 
 wherewith he was environed, was never capable of 
 dazzling him : he was endowed with an inexpressible 
 and unparalleled modesty and humility. He very 
 severely accused himself of not being virtuous 
 enough ; for one day, when he was sick, the earth 
 being shook with prodigious earthquakes, he sought 
 the cause of his calamity, and of the wrath of Heaven, 
 only in his own sins ; although he was of a consum- 
 mate virtue." 
 
 That which most appeared in Venvam's actions 
 was an extraordinary charity ; a proof whereof we
 
 A CHmESE PHILOSOPHER. 37 
 
 will here allege. In the annals of China it is re- 
 corded, that this prince, having found in the field the 
 bones of a man to whom the honours of burying were 
 refused, immediately commanded them to be in- 
 terred ; and some of the by-standers saying that the 
 master of the deceased was unknown, and that for 
 this reason he might not concern himself, it being 
 founded, perhaps, on some custom of the country, 
 — "What!" replies the king, "he that holds the 
 reins of the empire, is not he master of it ? He that 
 reigns, is not he the master of the kingdom ? I am, 
 therefore, the lord and master of the dead : wherefore, 
 then, should I refuse them these last offices of piety?" 
 But this is not all : he had no sooner uttered these 
 words, but, unstripping himself of his royal vestment, 
 he commanded it to be used, instead of a winding- 
 sheet, to wrap up the bones, and bury them accord- 
 ing to the manners and custom of the country ; which 
 his courtiers observing with admiration, they thus 
 cried out, " If the piety of our prince is so great to- 
 wards dry bones, how great will it not be towards 
 men that enjoy life'?" They made some other reflec- 
 tions of this nature. 
 
 Venvam's charity had properly for its object all 
 sorts of persons, but particularly ancient persons, 
 widows, orphans, and the poor ; whom he protected 
 and nourished as if they had been his own children. 
 It is believed that these charitable actions were the 
 principal cause of the re-establishment of a pious 
 custom of the first emperors, and of a law which is 
 still observed throughout China. This law enacts, 
 " that in every city, even in the least, an hundred 
 3
 
 38 THE MORALS OF CONPUCIUS, 
 
 poor aged persons shall be maintained at the public 
 charge. 
 
 But Venvam, not satisfied with having given in his 
 life-time instructions and examples of virtue, when 
 he felt himself near death, not sufficiently relying on 
 the force of his preceding instructions and examples, 
 and knowing that the last words of dying persons 
 make a great impression, he likewise gave his son 
 Vuvam these three admonitions : — 
 
 1. *' When you see any virtuous action done, be 
 not slack to practise it. 
 
 2. " When the opportunity of doing a reasonable 
 thing shall offer, make use of it without hesitating. 
 
 3. " Cease not thy endeavours to extirpate and 
 suppress vice. 
 
 " These three admonitions which I give you, my 
 son," adds he, " comprehend whatever may produce 
 an exact probity and excellent conduct." 
 
 Behold, doubtless, an example which shews that, 
 in this king's life-time, the Chinese had very rational 
 sentiments, and that virtue, as I may say, was their 
 passion ; for, in a word, the people generally conform 
 themselves to the sentiments and manners of their 
 kings — 
 
 Regis ad exemplum totus componitur orbis. 
 
 There is nothing which gives a greater idea of the 
 ^ irtue of the ancient Chinese than what they have 
 written and practised in respect to their law-suits. 
 They teach, that actions ought not to be commenced; 
 that frauds, severities, and enmities, which are the 
 general attendants and consequences of law-suits.
 
 A CHINESE PHILOSOPHER. 39 
 
 are unbecomino: men ; that the whole world oiio-ht to 
 Hve in unity and concord; and that to this end it 
 behoved every one to use his utmost endeavours, 
 either to prevent law-suits from arising, or to stifle 
 them in their birth, by reconciling the parties, or 
 inspiring them with the love of peace : that is to say, 
 " by engaging them to renew and improve their rea- 
 sons." These are Cem9u's own words. 
 
 But that which is most remarkable on this subject 
 is, the extraordinary precautions which the judges 
 took before any cause was brought before their tri- 
 bunals. They, with the utmost vigilance and atten- 
 tion, examined the outside of the plaintiff, or him who 
 began the suit ; to the end that, by this means, they 
 might know whether this man was thereunto excited 
 by good motives ; whether he believed his cause good, 
 or whether he acted sincerely : and for this purpose 
 there were five rules. By the first rule, they exa- 
 mined the placing of his words and manner of speak- 
 ing : and this was called Cutim ; that is to say, the 
 observation of the words. By the second, they con- 
 sidered the air of his countenance and the motion of 
 his lips : and this was called Setim; that is to say, 
 the observation of the face. By the third, they ob- 
 served his manner of breathing when he proposed his 
 cause: this rule was called Kitim; that is to say, the 
 observation of the respiration. By the fourth, they 
 remarked whether his reply was not quick ; whether 
 he gave not intricate, ill-grounded, uncertain an- 
 swers ; or whether he spake of any other thing than 
 that in question ; or whether his words were not am- 
 biguous: and this was called Ulhtim; that is to say,
 
 40 Tllli .MORALS OF CONFUCIUS, 
 
 the observation of the answers. Lastly, by the fifth, 
 ihe jutlges were carefully to weigh the considerations 
 and respect ; to see whether there were no trouble, 
 dio-ression, and confusion; if there appeared not any 
 si^n of a lie and fraud : and this last rule w as called 
 Motim; that is to say, the observation of the eyes. 
 
 It was by these exterior marks that this ancient 
 Areopagite discovered the most hidden thoughts of 
 the heart, dispensed an exact justice, diverted a 
 great many persons from law-suits and frauds, and 
 inspired in them the love of equity and of concord. 
 But at present these rules are unknown in China, — 
 at least, wholly neglected. 
 
 To return to Confucius's doctrine, illustrated with 
 the commentaries of Cem^u. — This disciple set a 
 high value upon a maxim which he had frequently 
 heard his master repeat, and which himself also very 
 strongly inculcated. It was this : — " Always behave 
 thyself with the same precaution and discretion as 
 you would do if you were observed by ten eyes, and 
 pointed at by so many hands." 
 
 To render virtue yet more commendable, and more 
 easily to inspire its sentiments, the same disciple 
 demonstrates, that whatever is honest and advanta- 
 geous is amiable ; and we are obliged to love virtue, 
 because it includes both these qualities. That, 
 moreover, virtue is an ornament which embellishes, 
 as I may say, the whole person of him who possesses 
 it, — his interior and exterior ; that to the mind it 
 communicates inexpressible beauties and perfections ; 
 that, as to the body, it there produces very sensitive 
 delights ; that it aflbrds a certain physiognomy,
 
 A CHINESE rHILOSOPIIER. 41 
 
 certain transports, certain ways, which infinitely 
 please ; and, as it is the property of virtue to becalm 
 the heart, and keep peace there, so this inward tran- 
 quillity and secret joy produce a certain serenity in 
 the countenance, a certain joy, and air of goodness, 
 kindness, and reason, which attract the heart and 
 esteem of the whole world. After which he con- 
 cludes, that the principal business of man is to rectify 
 his mind, and so well to rule his heart, that his pas- 
 sions might always be calm ; and, if it happen that 
 they be excited, he ought to be moved no farther than 
 is necessary ; in a word, that he may regulate them 
 according to right reason. For, as for instance, adds 
 he, if we suffer ourselves to be transported with ex- 
 cessive anger, — that is to say, if we fall into a rage 
 without any cause, or more than we ought when we 
 have reason, — we may thence conclude that our mind 
 has not the rectitude it ought to have. If we con- 
 temn and mortally hate a person, by reason of certain 
 •iefects which we observe in him, and render not 
 justice to his good and excellent qualities, if endowed 
 therewith ; if we permit ourselves to be troubled 
 by a too great fear ; if we abandon ourselves to an 
 immoderate joy, or to an excessive sorrow ; it cannot 
 be said that our mind is in the state wherein it ought 
 to be, that it has its rectitirde and uprightness. 
 
 Cem9U carries this moral a great way further, and 
 gives it a perfection which, in my opinion, could 
 never be expected from those who have not been ho- 
 noured with divine revelation. He says, that it is not 
 only necessary to observe moderation in general, as 
 oft as our passions are stirred, but that also in respect 
 
 F
 
 42 THE MORALS OF CONfX>CIUS, 
 
 of llio.se which are the most lawful, innocent, and 
 laudable, wc ought not blindly to yield up ourselves 
 to them, and always follow their motions : it is ne- 
 cessary to consult reason. As for example, — parents 
 arc obliged to love one another : nevertheless, as their 
 amity may be too weak, so it may be also too strong ; 
 and, as to the one and the other respect, there^ is 
 doubtless an irregularity. It is just for a child to 
 love his father ; but if a father has any considerable 
 defect, if he has committed any great fault, it is the 
 duty of a son to acquaint him with it, and tell him 
 what may be for his good ; always keeping a due re- 
 spect, from which he ought not to depart. Likewise, 
 if a son be fallen into any sin, it is the duty of a father 
 to reprove him, and give him his advice thereon. 
 But, if their love be blind, — if their love be a mere 
 passion, — if it be flesh and blood which make them 
 thus act, — this affection is an irregular afiection. 
 Why? Because it digresseth from the rule of right 
 reason. 
 
 We should injure the reader were we to omit 
 speaking of the Emperor Yao, whose eulogy is re- 
 corded in the work that affords the matter of ours. 
 No man has ever more exactly practised all these du- 
 ties, which have been proposed by Confucius's disciple, 
 than he. It may be said, if his portraiture be not 
 flattered, that he had a disposition made for virtue. 
 He had a tender, but magnanimous and well-disposed 
 heart. He loved those whom he was obliged to love, 
 but it was without the least weakness. He, in a 
 word, regulated his love, and all his passions, ac- 
 cording to right reason.
 
 A CHINESE PHILOSOPHER. 43 
 
 This prince arrived at the empire 2357 years be- 
 fore Jesus Christ: he reigned a hundred years; but 
 he ruled vvith so much prudence, wisdom, and so 
 many demonstrations of clemency and kindness to 
 his subjects, that they were the happiest people of the 
 earth. 
 
 Yao had all the excellent qualities desirable in a 
 prince • his riches made him not proud ; his extrac- 
 tion, which was so noble and illustrious, puffed him 
 not up with arrogancy. He was virtuous, sincere, 
 and kind, without atfectation. His palace, table, 
 apparel, and furniture, discovered the greatest mode- 
 ration that ever was seen. He deliohted in music ; 
 but it was a grave, modest, and pious music ; he 
 detested nothing so much as songs, wherein modesty 
 and civility were blemished. It was not a capricious 
 humour that made him dislike these sorts of songs, 
 — it was the desire he had of rendering himself in all 
 things pleasing unto Heaven. It was not avarice 
 that produced in him that moderation which he ob- 
 served at his table, in apparel, furniture, and every 
 thing else : it was only the love he bore to those who 
 were in want ; for he only designed to relieve them. 
 It was also his great piety, and that ardent charity 
 wherewith he burned, which made him frequently 
 utter these admirable words : — " The famine of my 
 people is my own famine : my people's sin is my own 
 sin." 
 
 In the seventy-second year of his yeign, he elected, 
 as a colleague, Xun, who with him governed the 
 empire twenty-eight years : but what is most remark- 
 able, and deserves the praise and applause of all ages, 
 
 f2
 
 44 THE MORALS OF CONFUCIUS, 
 
 h, that, although he had a son, he declared that he 
 appointed, for his successor, Xun, in whom he had 
 seen a great deal of virtue, an exact probity, and 
 judicious conduct. And, it being told him that his 
 son complained of his excluding him from the suc- 
 cession to the empire, he made this ansAver, which 
 alone may be the subject of an excellent panegyric, 
 and render his memory immortal : — " I had rather my 
 only son should be wicked, and all my people good, 
 than if my son alone was good, and all my people 
 wicked." 
 
 Gonfucius's chief aim, as we have declared, being 
 to propose his doctrine to kings, and persuade them 
 to it, because he thought that, if he could inspire 
 them with the sentiments of virtue, their subjects 
 would become virtuous after their example, — Cem^u, 
 explaining this doctrine, expatiates largely on the 
 duty of kings. 
 
 He principally applies himself to three things : — 
 
 1. To shew that it is very important that kings 
 behave themselves well in their court and family, 
 because that their ways and actions are certainly 
 imitated. 
 
 2. To persuade them of the necessity there is in 
 general of acquiring the habit of virtue, and of per- 
 forming the duties thereof in all places and upon all 
 accounts. 
 
 3. To engage them not to impoverish the people, 
 but to do all for their good and ease. 
 
 As to the first article, he makes use of several co- 
 gitations, which the Book of Odes affords him. But 
 behold, in two words, the most considerable part of
 
 A CHINESE PHILOSOPHER. 45 
 
 his discoiitse : — " If," saith he, " a king, as a father, 
 testify love to his children ; if, as a son, he be obe- 
 dient to his father ; if, in quality of the eldest son, he 
 be courteous to his younger brethren, and live peace- 
 ably with them ; if, as the youngest, he have a respect 
 and esteem for the eldest ; if he kindly use those 
 that are in his service ; if he be charitable, especially 
 to widows and orphans : if, I say, a king exactly ac- 
 quit himself of all this, his people will imitate him, 
 and every one will be seen to practise virtue through- 
 out his kingdom. Parents will tenderly love their 
 children, and give them a good education. Children 
 will honour their parents, and render them due obe- 
 dience. The elder will shew kindness to their 
 younger brother, and the younger will have a respect 
 and esteem for their elder, or for other persons for 
 whom good manners require that they should have 
 respect ; as, for example, for persons advanced in age. 
 In fine, those that have estates will maintain some 
 widows, orphans, and some sick persons : for there 
 is nothing that makes a greater impression on the 
 minds of people than the examples of their kings. 
 
 As to the second article, where Cem^u exhorts, in 
 general, to the practice of virtue, he alleges for a 
 principle this maxim, to which Christ himself seems 
 to refer all his morality : — " Do to another what you 
 would they should do unto you ; and do not unto an- 
 other what you would not should be done unto you."* 
 
 " Amongst those in the midst of whom you live," 
 says the disciple of Confucius, " there are some above 
 
 * Vide 24th Maxim of Confucius.
 
 46 THE MORALS OF CONFUCIUS, 
 
 you, others inferior to you, and others that are your 
 equals : there are some that preceded you, others that 
 arc to be your successors : you have them on your 
 rio-ht hand, and on your left. Consider that all these 
 men have the same passions with yourself, and that 
 what you desire they should do, or not do, unto you, 
 thev desire that you should do, or not do, unto them. 
 What you, therefore, hate in your superiors, what 
 you hliime in them, be sure not to practise towards 
 your inferiors : and what you hate and blame in your 
 inferiors, practise not to your superiors. What dis- 
 pleases you in your predecessors, eschew to give an 
 example to those that shall come after. And as, in 
 case that you should happen to give them such an 
 example, you would desire they should not follow it, 
 so you should not follow the bad examples of those 
 ^vho have preceded you. In fine, what you blame in 
 ll^.ose who are on your right hand, practise not to 
 those who are on your left ; and what you reprehend 
 in those on your left hand, be sure not to practise it 
 to those that are on your right. Behold," concludes 
 Cem^u, " after what manner we ought to measure 
 and regulate all our actions ! And if a prince thus 
 exerciseth himself, it will happen that all his subjects 
 will be of one heart and one mind, and that he will 
 rather be called their father than their lord and 
 master. This will be the means by which to draw 
 down the blessings and favours of Heaven, not to fear 
 any thing, and to lead a quiet and peaceable life : for, 
 in fine, virtue is the basis and foundation of an em- 
 pire, and the source from whence flows whatever 
 may render it flourishing. It was upon this conside- 
 3
 
 A CHINESE PHILOSOPHER. 47 
 
 ration that an ambassador of the kingdom of Cu 
 returned this excellent answer to a nobleman of the 
 kingdom of Cin, who asked him whether, in his mas- 
 ters kingdom, there were great riches and precious 
 gems? — " Nothing is esteemed precious, in the king- 
 dom of Cu, but virtue." A king of Ci returned almost 
 the same answer. This prince treating of an alliance 
 with the king of Guei, and the kingof Guei demand- 
 ing of him, if, in his kingdom, there were precious 
 gems? — he answered, " That there were none." 
 " How!" replied this king, all in amazement, " Is it 
 possible that, though my kingdom be less than yours, 
 yet there is found a carbuncle, whose brightness is so 
 great than it can enlighten space enottgh for twelve 
 palanquins ; and that in your kingdom, which is 
 larger than mine, there are none of these precious 
 gems V — " I Lave four ministers," rejoins the king' 
 of Ci, " w^ho with great prudence govern the pro- 
 vinces I have committed to them : behold my precious 
 gems, — they can enlighten a thousand stadia." 
 
 Nor were the men only of China famous for their 
 esteem of virtue : there w^ere women who considered 
 it as a jewel of infinite value, and preferable to all 
 treasures. An illustrious queen, named Kiam, who 
 reigned two hundred years before Confucius, re- 
 claimed her husband from sensuality and debauchery, 
 by an action which deserves to be immortalised. 
 Seeing that this prince continually resorted to the 
 pastimes of debauchery, and abandoned himself to all 
 sorts of pleasure, she one day plucked her pendants 
 from her ears, and laid aside all her jewels, and in 
 this condition went to the king, and spake to him
 
 48 THE MORALS OP CONFUCIUS, 
 
 these words, with a sensible emotion, — " Sir, is it. 
 possible that luxury and debauchery are so very 
 pleasing to you? You contemn virtue; but I esteem 
 it infinitely more than the most precious metals." She 
 afterwards enlarged upon this subject, and the action 
 and discourse of this princess touched him so strongly 
 that he renounced his extravagancies, and gave him- 
 self up entirely to virtue, and the care of his kingdom, 
 which he governed thirteen years with great ap- 
 plause. 
 
 In fine, as the last article, Cem^u represents to 
 kings that they ought not to oppress their people, 
 either by impositions or otherwise : that, to avoid being 
 forced thereto, it is necessary to choose wise, faithful, 
 and virtuous ministers ; and, consequently, not to 
 admit into the manaoement of affairs those that are 
 unworthy, and who, by their cruelties, ambition, and 
 avarice, can only bring a vast prejudice to the state. 
 He shews them that they ought to lessen, as much as 
 possible, the number of their ministers, and of all 
 those who live at the public expense ; to endeavour 
 to excite all to w ork ; and so to order it that those 
 who manage and disburse the treasure, may do it 
 with all the moderation imaginable. '• Princes," 
 adds he, " ought never to seek private interest: they 
 ought only to look after the interests of their people. 
 To be loved and faithfully sened, they ought to con- 
 vince their subjects, by their conduct, that they design 
 only to make them happy ; which they will never do, 
 if they heartily follow their particular interests, — if 
 they oppress and impoverish them.
 
 COLLECTION 
 
 CONFUCIUS'S WORKS. 
 
 BOOK II. 
 
 This second book of Confucius was published by his 
 grandson Cusu. It treats of divers things, but es- 
 pecially of that excellent mediocrity, which must be 
 constantly observed in all things, between the too 
 much and too little. Thus this book is entitled 
 Chumyum ; that is to say, The Perpetual Mean, — a 
 mean constantly observed. 
 
 Confucius teaches, at first, that all men ought to 
 love this happy mediocrity, which they ought to search 
 after with an extreme care. He says, that the per- 
 fect man always keeps a just mean, whatever he 
 undertakes : but that the wicked always swerves 
 therefrom; that he does too much, or not enough.' 
 When the right reason sent from Heaven, adds he, 
 has once shewn a wise man the mean he ought to 
 keep, he afterwards conforms all his actions there- 
 unto, at all times, as well in adversity as prosperity : 
 he continually watches over himself, over his thoughts, 
 
 G
 
 50 THE MORALS OF CONFUCIUS, 
 
 over the most secret motions of his heart, always to 
 square himself according to this just mean, which he 
 will never lose sight of: but the wicked, not being 
 restrained either by fear, modesty, or the love of vir- 
 tue, are always carried into extremes by their extra- 
 vagant passions. 
 
 This philosopher cannot sufficiently admire this 
 happy mediocrity : he looks on it as the most sublime 
 thing in the world, — as a thing most worthy the love 
 and employment of the highest minds, as the sole 
 path of virtue. He complains that there have always 
 been so few persons who have kept it : he diligently 
 enquires after the cause thereof. He says, that, as 
 for the wise men of the age, they slight and contemn 
 it, because they imagine it below their great designs, 
 below their ambitious projects: and that, as for dull 
 persons, they very hardly attain it, either because 
 they understand it not, or because the difficulty in 
 attainino" it astonishes and discourag-es them : and 
 all this, adds Confucius, happens for want of exami- 
 nation ; for, if we diligently examined what is good 
 in itself, we should find that all extremes are preju- 
 dicial, and that the mean alone is always good and 
 gainful. 
 
 He herein particularly alleges the example of Xun 
 the emperor: he cries out, " How great was the 
 prudence of the Emperor Xun! He was not satis- 
 fied, in the administration of state affairs, with his 
 single examination, with his own particular judg- 
 ment and prudence, — he likewise consulted the 
 meanest of his subjects. He asked advice upon the 
 least things ; and he made it a duty and delight to
 
 A CHINESE PHILOSOPHER. 51 
 
 weigh the answers that were given him, how com- 
 mon soever they appeared. Wiien any thing was 
 proposed to him, which, after a strict examination, he 
 was convinced was repugnant to right reason, he 
 acquiesced not, but with an open lieart represented 
 what was amiss in the counsel that was given him. 
 By this means he made his subjects place confidence 
 in him, and accustom themselves freely to give him 
 admonitions from time to time. As for good and 
 judicious counsels, he followed, magnified, and ex- 
 tolled them ; and thereby every one was encouraged 
 joyfully to declare his opinion. But if, amongst the 
 counsels which were given him, he found that some 
 plainly contradicted others, he attentively considered 
 them ; and, after having examined them, he always 
 took a mean, especially when it concerned the public 
 interests. 
 
 Confucius here deplores the false prudence of the 
 men of his time. It had, indeed, very much dege- 
 nerated from the prudence of the ancient kings. 
 " There is not," saith he, " any person at present 
 who does not declare that I have prudence, that I 
 know what is necessary to be done, and what is not. 
 But, because that no a^ profit and particular advan- 
 tage are the only objects delighted in, it happens that 
 we do not think on the evils which may thence ensue, 
 on the perils to which this gain and profit expose us; 
 and that the precipice is not perceived by us. There 
 are some who perfectly understand the nature and 
 value of mediocrity, who choose it for their rule, and 
 square their actions by it ; but who, afterwards, suf- 
 fering themselves to be overcome by sloth, have not 
 
 a2
 
 52 THE MORALS OF CONFUCIUS, 
 
 the power to persist in doing good. To what end, in 
 this sort of persons, do the knowledge and resolutions 
 they have formed, tend? Alas ! it was not thus with 
 my disciple Hori : he had an exquisite discerning 
 faculty ; he remarked all the differences that occurred 
 in things ; he always chose a mean, and never for- 
 sook it. 
 
 " As for the rest," adds Confucius, " it is not a 
 very easy thing to acquire that medium which I so 
 much commend. Alas! there is nothing so difficult: 
 it is an affair which requires great pains and indus- 
 try. You will find men capable of governing happily 
 the kingdoms of the earth ; you will see some who 
 have magnanimity enough to refuse the most consi- 
 derable dignities and advantages ; there will be some 
 also who will have courage enough to walk on naked 
 swords: but you will find few capable of keeping a 
 just mean, — to arrive at which, art, labour, courage, 
 and virtue, are required." 
 
 It was upon account of this moral that one of his 
 disciples, who was of a warlike and ambitious tem- 
 per, asked him, wherein valour consisted, and what 
 it w^as necessary to do to obtain the name of valiant ? 
 " Have you heard," says Confucius, " of the valour 
 of those in the South, or those that dwell in the North, 
 or rather of the valour of my disciples, who apply 
 themselves to the study of wisdom? To act mildly 
 in the education of children and disciples, — to be in- 
 dulgent to them, — patiently to bear their disobedi- 
 ences and defects, — is that wherein the valour of the 
 southern people consists. By this valour they con- 
 quer their violent temper, and subject their passions,
 
 A CHINESE PHILOSOPHER. 5'^ 
 
 which are generally violent, to right reason. To lie 
 down courageously in the camp, — to repose quietly 
 in the midst of a terrible army, — to see a thousand 
 deaths before one's eyes, without daunting, — not to 
 be disquieted, but make a pleasure of this sort of life: 
 behold what I call the valour of the Northern men ! 
 But as generally there is a great deal of rashness in 
 all this, and that oftentimes men do not regidate 
 themselves according to that mean which every one 
 ought to seek after, it is not this sort of valour which 
 I require of my disciples. Behold what their charac- 
 ter ought to be. 
 
 "A perfect man (for, in short, the perfect man only 
 can have true valour,) ought always to be busied in 
 conquering himself. He must suit himself to the 
 manners and tempers of others : but he ought always 
 to be master of his own heart and actions ; he must 
 not suffer himself to be corrupted by the conversation 
 or the examples of loose and effeminate persons ; he 
 must never obey, till he has first examined what is 
 commanded him ; he must never imitate others with- 
 out judgment. In the midst of so many mad and 
 blind persons, who go at random, he must walk 
 aright, and not incline to any party : this is the true 
 valour. Moreover, if this very person be called to the 
 magistracy, in a kingdom where virtue is considered, 
 and he change not his morals, how great soever the 
 honours be to which he is advanced ; if he there pre- 
 serve all the good habits which he had when only a 
 private man ; if he permit not himself to be led away 
 with pride and vanity, — this man is truly valiant ! 
 Ah ! how great is this valour ! But if, on the
 
 54 THE MORALS OF CONFUCIUS, 
 
 contrary, he be in a kingdom where virtue and laws 
 are contemned, and that, in tlie confusion and disor- 
 der which there prevail, he himself be depressed with 
 poverty, — afflicted, — reduced even to the loss of life; 
 but yet, in the midst of so many miseries, he remain 
 constant, preserve all the innocency of his manners, 
 and never change his opinion ; — ah! how great and 
 illustrious is this valour! Instead, therefore, of the 
 valour of the Southern or Northern countries, I re- 
 quire and expect from you, my dear disciples, a 
 valour of the nature above-mentioned." 
 
 Behold ! something which Confucius speaks, which 
 is not less remarkable. " There are some men," 
 saitli he, " who surpass the bounds of mediocrity, by 
 affecting to have extraordinary virtues. They covet 
 always to have something marvellous in their actions, 
 to the end that posterity may praise and extol them. 
 Certainly, as for myself, I shall never be enamoured 
 with these glittering actions, where vanity and self- 
 love have ever a greater share than virtue. I would 
 only know and practise what is necessary to know and 
 practise every where. 
 
 " There are four rules, according to which the 
 perfect man oug-lit to square himself. 
 
 *' I. He himself ought to practise, in respect of his 
 father, what he requires from his son. 
 
 "2. In the service of his prince, he is obliged to 
 shew the same fidelity which he demands of those 
 that are under him. 
 
 '' 3. He must act, in respect of his eldest brother, 
 after the same manner that he would that his younger 
 brother should act towards him. 
 
 3
 
 A CHINESE PHILOSOPHER. »5o 
 
 *' 4, And lastly, he ought to behave himself to- 
 wards his friends as he desires that his friends should 
 carry themselves to him. The perfect man conti- 
 nually acquits himself of these duties, how common 
 soever they may appear. If he happen to perceive 
 that he has done amiss in any thing, he is not at rest 
 till he has repaired his fault : if he find that he has 
 omitted any considerable duty, there is not any vio- 
 lence which he does not to himself, perfectly to 
 accomplish it. He is moderate and reserved in his 
 discourses ; he speaks with circumspection : if to him 
 occur a great affluence of words, he presumes not to 
 expose it, he restrains himself. In a word, he is so 
 rigorous a censurer of himself, that he is not at rest 
 when his words correspond not to his actions, and his 
 actions to his words. " Now the way," cries he, " by 
 which a man arrives at this perfection, is a solid and 
 constant virtue." 
 
 To this, his master's doctrine, Cusu here adds a 
 moral worthy of their meditation who have a desire 
 to perfect themselves. " The perfect man," says this 
 worthy disciple of so great a philosopher, " the per- 
 fect man governs himself according to his present 
 state, and covets nothing beyond it. If he find him- 
 self in the midst of riches, he acts like a rich man, 
 but addicts not himself to unlawful pleasures : he 
 avoids luxury, detests pride, offends nobody. If he 
 be in a poor and contemptible state, he acts as a poor 
 and mean man ought to act; but he does nothing- 
 unworthy of a grave and worthy man. If he be re- 
 mote from his own country, he behaves himself as a 
 stranger ought to do ; but he is always like himself.
 
 5Q THE MORALS OF CONFUCIUS, 
 
 If he be in affliction and adversity, he does not 
 insolently affront his destiny, but has courage and 
 resolution : nothing can shake his constancy. If he 
 be advanced to the dignities of state, he keeps his 
 rank, but never treats his inferiors with severity : and 
 if he see himself below others, he is humble ; he 
 never departs from the respect he owes to his supe- 
 riors, but he never purchases their favour with flat- 
 tery. He uses his utmost endeavours to perfect 
 himself, and exacts nothing of others with severity : 
 it is upon this account that he expresses no discontent 
 or anger to any person. If he lift up his eyes toward 
 Heaven, it is not to complain because it has not sent 
 him prosperity, nor to murmur because it afflicts 
 him: if he look down towards the ground, it is not 
 to reproach men, and attribute the cause of his mise-^ 
 ries and necessities unto them : it is to testify his 
 humility ; that is to say, that he is always contented 
 with his condition, that he desires nothing beyond 
 it, and that, with submission and an even spirit, he 
 expects whatever Heaven shall ordain concerning 
 him. Thus he rejoiceth in a certain tranquillity, 
 which may well be compared to the top of those 
 mountains which are higher than the region where 
 the thunder and tempests are formed. 
 
 In the sequel of this book, he discourses of the pro- 
 found respect which the ancient Chinese, and espe- 
 cially the kings and emperors, had for their parents, 
 and of the exact obedience which they paid them. 
 " If a king," said they, " honour and obey his fa- 
 ther and motlicr, certainly he will endeavour to excite 
 his subjects to follow his example : for, briefly, a
 
 A CHINESE PHILOSOPHER. '57 
 
 man who loves virtue desires that all others should 
 likewise esteem it, especially if it be his interest that 
 they should be virtuous." Now, it is of great im- 
 portance to a king that his subjects love and practise 
 virtue : indeed, how can he hope to be obeyed by his 
 subjects, if he himself refuse to obey those that gave 
 him life. After all, if a prince desire to bring his 
 subjects to be obedient to their parents, he must shew 
 kindness toward them, and treat them w ith that ten- 
 derness which fathers have for their children ; for we 
 willingly imitate those whom we love, and those by 
 whom we think we are beloved. But if this prince, by 
 his conduct, excite his subjects to give obedience, to 
 their parents, and afterwards obey him as their com- 
 mon father, most certainly they will obey Heaven, 
 from whence come crowns and empires, — Heaven, 
 which is the sovereign father of all. And what will 
 be the effect of this obedience? It will happen that 
 Heaven will diffuse its blessings on those who shall 
 thus well acquit themselves. It will abundantly re- 
 compense so admirable a virtue ; it will make peace 
 and concord reign every where : so that the king and 
 his subjects will seem as one single family, where 
 the subjects obeying the king as their father, and the 
 king loving his subjects as his children, will all lead, 
 as in a single — but rich, magnificent, regular, and 
 convenient — house, the happiest and most peaceable 
 life imaginable. 
 
 To return to Confucius. — As he knew that the ex- 
 amples of kings made a great impression on men's 
 minds, so he proposes that of the Emperor Xun, in 
 respect of the obedience which children owe to their 
 
 H
 
 58 THE MORALS OF CONFUCIUS, 
 
 parents. " Oh! how great has the obedience of this 
 emperor been !" cries Confucius. " Thus," continues 
 he, " if he have obtained from Heaven the imperial 
 crown, it is the recompense of this virtue. It is this 
 virtue which procured iiim so many revenues, those 
 immense riches, and vast kingdoms, which are only 
 limited by the ocean. It is this virtue that has ren- 
 dered his name so famous throughout the world. In 
 fine, I doubt not but that long and peaceable life 
 which he enjoyed ought to be considered as a re- 
 compense of his virtue." To hear this philosopher 
 speak, would it not be said that he had read the 
 Decalogue, and understood the promise which God 
 has there made to those who honour their father and 
 mother. But if, by what Confucius declares, it 
 appear that the Decalogue was not unknown to him, 
 it will rather seem that he knew the maxims of the 
 Gospel, when we shall see what he teaches concern- 
 ing charity, which, he says, it is necessary to have 
 for all men. 
 
 " That love," saith he, " which it is requisite for 
 all men to have, is not a stranger to man, — it is man 
 himself; or, if you will, it is a natural property of 
 man, which dictates to him that he ought generally 
 to love all men. Nevertheless, above all men, to love 
 his father and mother is his main and principal duty: 
 from the practice of which he afterwards proceeds, as 
 by degrees, to the practice of that universal love, 
 whose object is all mankind. It is frmu this univer- 
 sal love that distributive justice comes, — that justice 
 which makes us render to every one his due, and 
 more especially to cherish and honour wise and up- 
 
 3
 
 A CHINESE PHILOSOPHER. 59 
 
 right men, and advance them to the dignities and 
 offices of state." That difference which is between 
 the love we have for our parents and what we have for 
 others, between the love we bear to virtuous and 
 learned men and that which we bear to those who 
 have not so much virtue or abiUty ; — that difference, 
 I say, is, as it were, a harmony, asymmetry of duties, 
 which the reason of Heaven has protected, and in 
 which nothing must be changed. 
 
 For the conduct of Hfe, Confucius proposes five 
 rules, which he calls universal. 
 
 The first regards the justice that ought to be prac- 
 tised between a king and his subjects. 
 
 The second respects the love that ought to be be- 
 tween a father and his children. 
 
 The third recommends conjugal fidelity to hus- 
 bands and wives. 
 
 The fourth concerns the subordination that ought 
 to appear between elder and younger brothers. 
 
 The fifth obliges friends to live in concord, in great 
 unity, and mutual kindness. 
 
 " Behold," adds he, " the five general rules, which 
 every one ought to observe!" behold, as it were, the 
 five public roads, by which men ought to pass ! But, 
 after all, we cannot observe these rules, if there be 
 wanting these three virtues : — prudence, which makes 
 us discern good from evil ; universal love, which 
 makes us love all men ; and that resolution which 
 makes us constantly persevere in the adherence to 
 good, and aversion for evil. But lest some fearful 
 persons, not well versed in morality, should imagine 
 that it is impossible for them to acquire these three 
 
 h2
 
 60 THE MORALS OF CONFUCIUS, 
 
 virtues, he affirms, that there is no person incapable 
 of acquiring them; that the impotence of man is 
 voUmtary. " How dull soever a man is, should he," 
 says he, " be without any experience ; yet, if he de- 
 sire to learn, and grow not weary in the study of 
 virtue, he is not very far from prudence. If a man, 
 although full of self-love, endeavour to perform good 
 actions, behold him already very near that universal 
 love which engages him to do good to all. In fine, if 
 a man feel a secret shame when he hears impure and 
 unchaste discourses, if he cannot forbear blushing 
 thereat, he is not far from that resolution of spirit 
 which makes him constantly seek after good, and 
 have an aversion for evil." 
 
 After the Chinese philosopher has treated of these 
 five universal rules, he proposes nine particular c»ies 
 for kings ; because he considers their conduct as a 
 public source of happiness or misery. These nine 
 rules are : — 
 
 1. A king ought incessantly to labour to adorn his 
 person with all sorts of virtues. 
 
 2. He ought to honour and cherish the wise and 
 virtuous. 
 
 3. He ought to respect and love those that gave 
 him birth. 
 
 4. He ought to honour and esteem those ministers 
 who distinguish themselves by their ability, and those 
 who exercise the principal offices of the magistracy. 
 
 5. He ought to accommodate himself, as much as 
 it is possible, to the sentiments and minds of other 
 ministers ; and, as for thostj wlx) have less conside- 
 rable employments, he ought to consider them as his 
 members.
 
 A CHINESE PHILOSOPHER. 61 
 
 6. He ought to love his people, even the meanest, 
 as his own children, and to share in the various sub- 
 jects of joy or sorrow which they may have. 
 
 7. He ouo^ht to use his utmost to brino: into his 
 kingdom several able artificers in all sorts of arts, for 
 the advantage and convenience of his subjects. 
 
 8. He ought kindly and courteously to receive 
 strangers and travellers, and fully to protect them. 
 
 9. Lastly, he ought tenderly to love the princes and 
 great men of his empire, and so heartily to study 
 their interests, that they may love him, and be ever 
 faithful to him. 
 
 Rightly to understand the Morals of Confucius, it 
 is here necessary to speak one word concerning the 
 distinction which he makes between the saint and the 
 wise. To the one and the other he attributes certain 
 things in common ; but to the saint he gives some 
 qualities and advantages, which he says that the wise 
 has not. He says, that reason and innocence have 
 been equally communicated to the wise and to the 
 saint, and likewise to all other men; but that the 
 saint has never in the least declined from right reason, 
 and has constantly preserved his integrity : whereas, 
 the wise has not always preserved it, having not al- 
 ways followed the light of reason, because of several 
 obstacles he has met with in the practice of virtue ; 
 and especially by reason of his passions, to which he 
 is a slave. Hence, it is necessary that he does his 
 utmost, and use great pains and endeavours to put 
 his heart in a good posture, and govern himself ac- 
 cording to the light of right reason and the rules of 
 virtue.
 
 62 THE MORALS OF CONFUCIUS, 
 
 Cusu, reasoning' thereon, the better to illustrate his 
 master's doctrine, compares those who have lost their 
 first integrity, and desire to regain it, to those wi- 
 thered and almost dead trees, which, notwithstand- 
 ing, have in the trunk and roots a certain juice, a 
 certain principle of life, that makes them cast forth 
 shoots. " If," said he, "we take care of these trees, 
 — if we cultivate them, water them, and prune off the 
 dead branches, — it will happen that these trees will 
 re-assume their former state. After the same man- 
 ner, although a person has lost his first integrity and 
 innocence, he needs only excite the good that remains, 
 use pains and industry, and he will infallibly arrive 
 at the highest virtue. " This last state," saith Cusu, 
 " this state of the wise, is called Giantao ; that is to 
 say, The Road and the Reason of Man ; or, rather, 
 the way which leads to the origin of the first perfec- 
 tion. And the state of the saint is called Tientao ; 
 that is to say, The Reason of Heaven ; or the first 
 rule which Heaven has equally distributed to all men, 
 and which the saints have always observed, without 
 turning either on the right hand or on the left." 
 
 As rules do in brief contain the principal duties, 
 and that we may easily retain them, Confucius gives 
 five to those who desire to choose and adhere to the 
 good. 
 
 1. It is necessary, after an exact and extensive 
 manner, to know the causes, properties, and differ- 
 ences of all thino-s. 
 
 2. Because that, amongst the things which are 
 known, there may be some which are not perfectly 
 known, it is necessary carefully to examine them, to
 
 A CHINESE PHILOSOPHER. 63 
 
 weigh them minutely, and in every circumstance, and 
 thereon to consult wise, intelligent, and experienced 
 men. 
 
 8. Although it seems that we clearly apprehend 
 certain things, yet, because it is easy to transgress, 
 through precipitancy, in the too much or too little, it 
 is necessary to meditate afterwards, in particular, on 
 the things we believe we know, and to weigh every 
 thing by the weight of reason, with all the attentive- 
 iiess of spirit, and with the utmost exactness, whereof 
 we are capable. 
 
 " 4. It is necessary to endeavour not to apprehend 
 things after a confused manner : it is requisite to 
 have some clear ideas thereof, so that we may truly 
 discern the good from the bad, the true from the 
 false. 
 
 5. Lastly, after that we shall have observed all 
 these things, we must reduce to action, — sincerely 
 and constantly perform and execute, to the utmost of 
 our power, the good resolutions which we have taken. 
 We cannot better conclude this book than with 
 these excellent words of Cusu : — " Take heed," saith 
 he, " how you act when you are alone. Although 
 you should be retired into the most solitary and most 
 private place of your house, you ought to do nothing 
 whereof you would be ashamed if you were in com- 
 pany or in public. Have you a desire," continues he, 
 " that I should shew you after what manner he who 
 has acquired some perfection governs himself ? Why, 
 he keeps a continual watch upon himself; he under- 
 takes nothing, begins nothing, pronounces no word, 
 on which he has not meditated. Before he raises
 
 64 THE MORALS OF CONFUCIUS. 
 
 any motion in his heart, he carefully observes him- 
 self; he reflects on every thing, he examines every 
 thing, he is in a continual vigilance. Before he 
 speaks, he is satisfied that what he is about to utter 
 is true and rational ; and he thinks that he cannot 
 reap a more pleasant fruit from his vigilance and 
 examination, than to accustom himself circumspectly 
 and wisely to govern himself, in the things which are 
 neither seen nor known by any."
 
 COLLECTION 
 
 CONFUCIUS'S WORKS. 
 
 BOOK III. 
 
 CoNFUCius's Third Book Is quite of another character 
 from the two former, both as to the method and ex- 
 pressions ; but, in the ground, it contains the same 
 morahty. It is a contexture of several sentences, 
 pronounced at divers times, and at several places, by 
 Confucius and his disciples : therefore, it is entitled 
 Lun Yu ; that is to say, discourses of several persons 
 who reason and philosophise together. 
 
 In the first place, there is represented a disciple of 
 this famous philosopher, who declares that he did no^, 
 spend a day wherein he rendered not an account to 
 himself of these three things : — 
 
 1. Whether he had not undertaken some affair for 
 another, and whether he managed and followed it 
 with the same eagerness and fidelity as if it had been 
 his own concern. 
 
 2. If, when he has been with his friends, he has 
 discoursed to them sincerely ; if he has not satisfied 
 
 I
 
 66 THE MORALS OF CONFUCIUS, 
 
 himself with shewing them some sHght appearance 
 of kindness and esteem. 
 
 3. Wiiether lie has meditated on his master's doc- 
 trine ; and whether, after having meditated on it, he 
 has used his utmost endeavours to reduce it to prac- 
 tice. 
 
 Afterwards appears Confucius giving lessons to his 
 disciples. He tells them, that the wise ought to be 
 so occupied with his virtue, that, when he is in his 
 house, he ought not to seek his conveniency and de- 
 light ; that, when he undertakes any affair, he ought 
 to be diligent and exact, prudent and considerate in 
 his words ; and that, though he have all these quali- 
 ties, yet he ought to be the person in whom he ought 
 least to confide, — he whom he ought least to please : 
 that, in a word, the w^ise man, always distrusting 
 himself, ought always to consult those whose virtue 
 and wisdom are known to him, and regulate his 
 conduct and actions according to their counsels and 
 examples. 
 
 " What think you of a poor man," says one of his 
 disciples to him, " who, being able to extenuate and 
 dimini.'^h his poverty through flattery, refuses to ac- 
 cept this offer, and courageously maintains that none 
 but cowards and low-spirited men do flatter? What 
 think you of a rich man, who, notwithstanding his 
 riches, is not proud?" — " I say," replies Confucius, 
 " that they are both praise- worthy ; but that they are 
 not to be considered as if they were arrived at the 
 highest degree of virtue. He that is poor ought to 
 be citeertul and content in the midst of his indigence : 
 behold, wherein the virtue of the poor man consists.
 
 A CHINESE PHILOSOPHER. (Sf 
 
 And he that is rich ought to do good to all : he that 
 is of a poor and abject spirit does good only to certain 
 persons : certain passions, certain particular friend- 
 ships, cause him to act; his friendship is interested ; 
 he disperses his wealth only with a prospect of reap- 
 ing more than he sows ; he seeks only his own inte- 
 rest : but the love of the perfect man is an universal 
 love, — a love whose object is all mankind." 
 
 " A soldier of the kingdom of Ci," said they unto 
 him, "lost his buckler; and, having a long time 
 sought after it in vain, he at last comforts himself, 
 upon the loss he had sustained, with this reflection : 
 — A soldier has lost his buckler, but a soldier of our 
 camp has found it ; he will use it." — " It had been 
 much better spoken," replies Confucius, " if he had 
 said, A man has lost his buckler, but a man will find 
 it;" thereby intimating, that we ought to have an 
 affection for all the men of the world. 
 
 Confucius had a tender spirit, as may bejudoed 
 by what we have said ; but it was great and sublime. 
 The ancient Chinese taught, that there were two 
 gods which presided in their houses, — the one called 
 Noao, and the other Cao. The first was respected 
 as the tutelar god of the whole family, and the last 
 was only the god of the fire-hearth. Nevertheless, 
 although the last of these genii vi^as very much infe- 
 rior to the first, yet to him were rendered greater 
 honours than to him that had all the domestic affairs 
 Under his protection : and there was a proverb which 
 implied, that it was better to seek the protection of 
 Cao than of Noao. As this preference had something 
 very singular, and seemed, in some measure, even to 
 
 i2
 
 68 THE MORALS OF CONFUCIUS, 
 
 encounter those which were promoted to grandeur in 
 princes' courts, Confucius being in the kingdom of 
 Guez, and meeting one day willi a prefect who had 
 great authority in this kingdom, this minister, puffed 
 up with the greatness of his fortune, supposing that 
 the philosopher designed to procure some favour from 
 the king, demanded of him, by way of merriment, 
 the meaning of this proverb, so frequently in every 
 one's mouth — It is better to seek the protection of Cao 
 than of Noao ? Confucius, who presently perceived 
 that the prefect gave him to understand, by this 
 question, that he ought to address himself to him, if 
 he would obtain his request from the king his master; 
 and who at the same instant made this reflection^ 
 that, to gain the good-will of a prince's favourite, it 
 is necessary to offer incense even to his defects, and 
 to force one's-self to compliances unworthy of a phi- 
 losopher, — plainly told him, that he differed wholly 
 from the maxims of the aoe ; that he would not ad- 
 dress himself to him with any address he wanted, to 
 shew him that he ought to do it ; and at the same 
 time to inform him, that, though he should answer 
 his question according to his desire, he could reap 
 no benefit thereby, he told him, " that he who had 
 sinned against Heaven should address himself only 
 to Heaven : for," he adds, " to whom can he address 
 himself to obtain the pardon of his crime, seeing there 
 is not any deity above Heaven." 
 
 Confucius recommends nothing: so much to his 
 disciples as clemency and courtesy ; always grounded 
 upon this maxim, that we ought to love all men : and, 
 to make them better to apprehend the truth of what
 
 A CHINESE PHILOSOPHER. 69 
 
 he said, he produced an instance of two ilkistrious 
 princes in the kingdom of Chuco, who were distin- 
 guished for this very thing. " These princes," saith 
 he, " were so mild and courteous, that they easily 
 forgot the most heinous injuries and horrible crimes, 
 when the offenders shewed any sign of repentance. 
 They beheld these criminals, though worthy of the 
 severest punishments, as if they had been innocent : 
 they not only forgot their faults, but, by their carriage, 
 made even those that had committed them, in some 
 measure, to forget them, and lose one part of the 
 disgrace which remains after great lapses, and which 
 can only discourage in the way of virtue. 
 
 One of this philosopher's great designs being to 
 form princes to virtue, and to teach the art of reign- 
 ing happily, he made no difficulty of addressing him- 
 self directly to them, and of giving them counsel. 
 '^ A prince," said he, one day, to a king of Lu, called 
 Timcum, " a prince ought to be moderate ; he ought 
 not to contemn any of his subjects ; he ought to re- 
 compense those that deserve it. There are some 
 subjects whom he ought to treat with mildness, and 
 others with severity : there are some on whose fidelity 
 he ought to rely ; but there are some also whom he 
 cannot sufficiently distrust." 
 
 Confucius would have princes desire nothing 
 which other men wish for, although they are some- 
 times good things, which it seems they might desire 
 without offence : he would have them to trample, as 
 I may say, upon whatever may make the felicity of 
 mortals upon earth ; and especially to look upon 
 riches, children, and life itself, as transient advantages, 
 
 3
 
 70 THE MORALS OF CONFUCIUS, 
 
 and which consequently cannot make the felicity of a 
 prince. " The Emperor Yao," says this philosopher, 
 " governed himself by these maxims, and, under the 
 conduct of so good a guide, he arrived at a perfection 
 which few mortals can attain ; for it may be said that 
 he saw nothing above him but Heaven, to which he 
 was entirely conformable. This incomparable prince," 
 adds he, " from time to time visited the provinces of 
 his empire ; and, as he was the delight of his people, 
 being met one day by a troop of his subjects, who, 
 after having called him their emperor and father, and 
 after having testified their exceeding joy at the sight 
 of so great a prince, cried out with a loud voice, to 
 join their wishes with their acclamations, " Let 
 Heaven heap riches upon thee ! Let it grant thee a 
 numerous family ! And let it not snatch thee from 
 thy people, till thou art satisfied with thy days!"— 
 "No," replies the emperor, " send up other petitions 
 to Heaven : great riches produce great cares and 
 great inquietudes ; a numerous progeny produces 
 great fears ; and a long life is generally a series of 
 misfortunes." — " There are found," cries Confucius, 
 after this, " few emperors like to Yao." 
 
 That which generally occasions trouble to kings, — 
 that which, in some measure, redoubles the weight 
 of the burden annexed to their crown, — is either the 
 few subjects over whom they reign, or the little 
 wealth which they possess : for, in short, all kings are 
 not great ; all kings have not vast dominions and ex- 
 cessive riches. But Confucius is of opinion that a 
 king is too ingenious to torment himself, when these 
 reflections are capable of causing the least trouble in
 
 A CHINESE PinLOSOPHER. 71 
 
 him. He says, that a king has subjects enough 
 when his subjects are contented ; and that his king- 
 dom is rich enough when peace and concord flourish 
 there. " Peace and concord," saith this philosopher, 
 *' are the mothers of plenty." 
 
 In line, Confucius, in speaking of the duties of 
 princes, teaches that it is so necessary for a prince to 
 be virtuous, that, when he is otherwise, a subject is 
 obHged, by the laws of Heaven, voluntarily to banish 
 himself, and to seek another country. 
 
 He sometimes complains of the disorders of princes, 
 but the great subject of his complaints is the extra- 
 vagancies of private men. He bewails the morals of 
 his age : he says, that he sees almost nobody who 
 distinguishes himself, either by piety or some extra- 
 ordinary quality ; that every one is corrupted, that 
 every one is depraved, and that it is chiefly amongst 
 the mag-istrates and courtiers that virtue is neglected. 
 It is true that Confucius seems to extend things be- 
 yond reason. Indeed, it was not much for this phi- 
 losopher, when, in a prince's court, he found but ten 
 or twelve persons of an extraordinary wisdom, to cry 
 out, O tempora, O mores! Under Vuvam's reign, 
 there were ten men of a consummate virtue and suf- 
 ficiency, on whom this emperor might repose all the 
 affairs of the empire : yet Confucius exclaims against 
 so small a number, saying, that great endowments, 
 virtue, and the qualities of the mind, are things very 
 rare in his age. He had made the same complaints 
 in respect of the emperor of Zun, the first of the fa- 
 mily of Cheu, although this prince had then five 
 prefects, of whose merit some judgment may be
 
 72 THE iMORALS OF CONFUCIUS, 
 
 formed by the history of one of these ministers, whose 
 name was Yii. 
 
 This wise minister had rendered his memory im- 
 mortal amongst the Chinese, not only because it was 
 he who invented the secret of stopping or diverting 
 the waters which overflowed the whole kingdom, and 
 which made it almost uninhabitable, but because 
 that, being an emperor, he always lived like a philo- 
 sopher. He was of an illustrious family, for he could 
 name some emperors of his ancestors ; but if, by the 
 decadency of his house, he was fallen from the pre- 
 tensions he might have to the empire, his wisdom and 
 virtue acquired him what fortune had refused to the 
 nobility of his extraction. The Emperor Zun so 
 thoroughly understood his desert, that he associated 
 him to the empire ; and seventeen years after he de- 
 clared him his lawful successor, even to the exclusion 
 of his own son. Yu refused this honour; but, as he 
 vainly denied it, and that his generosity might not 
 suffer in the pressing solicitations which were made 
 to him on all hands, he withdrew from the court, and 
 went to seek a retreat in a cell : but, not being able 
 so well to conceal himself as to remain undiscovered 
 in the rocks of his solitude, he was forcibly advanced 
 to the throne of his ancestors. No throne was ever 
 more easy of access than this prince's, — no prince 
 was ever more affable. It is reported that he one 
 day left his dinner ten times, to peruse petitions 
 which were presented to him, or to hear the complaints 
 of the distressed ; and that he ordinarily quitted his 
 bath, when audience was demanded of him. He 
 reigned ten years with so much success, with so
 
 A CHINESE PHILOSOPHER. 75 
 
 much tranquillity, and in such great abundance of 
 things, that of this age it may be truly said, it was a 
 golden age. Yu was an hundred years old when he 
 died ; and he died as he had lived : for, preferring 
 the interest of the empire before that of his family, he 
 would not let his son succeed him, but gave the crown 
 to one of his subjects, whose virtue was known unto 
 him. A prince, doubtless, is happy when he can 
 sometimes discharge, on such a minister, the cares 
 which press upon himself; and Zun only could be 
 so, seeing that he at one time had five, all worthy 
 of being seated on the throne. But this number 
 was not great enough for Confucius, and it is this 
 which made him grieve. 
 
 Confucius says, that a prince ought never to accept 
 the crown to the prejudice of his father, how unworthy 
 soever his father might be of it ; that it is one of 
 the greatest crimes of which a prince can be guilty : 
 and this occasioned him to relate two little histories, 
 which admirably suit his subject. 
 
 " Limcum," says this philosopher, " a king of 
 Guei, was twice married. As chastity is not always 
 the portion of princesses, the queen had unlawful fa- 
 miliarities with one of the nobles of her court; and, 
 this not being so privately managed but one of Lim- 
 cum's sons by his first wife came to the knowledge of 
 it, this young prince, jealous of his father's honour, so 
 highly resented it, that he designed to kill the queen, 
 which he concealed not. The cunning and guilty 
 princess, who saw herself detected, and who had a 
 great influence over her ancient spouse, alleged such 
 plausible reasons to make him believe her innocency, 
 that this poor prince, shutting his eyes against tha 
 
 K
 
 74 THE MORALS OF CONFUCIUS, 
 
 truth, banished his son ; but, as children are not 
 culpable for their father's crimes, he kept Che with 
 him : he was the son of this disgraced prince. 
 Limcum died soon after. The people recalled the 
 prince whom the queen's debaucheries had banished ; 
 and he went to receive the crown, but his vicious son 
 opposed him, alleging that his father was a parricide : 
 he raised armies against him, and was proclaimed 
 king by the people. 
 
 " The sons of a king of Cucho," continues lie, 
 " followed not this way : behold a memorable ex- 
 ample. This king, whose history we shall relate in' 
 two words, had three sons: and, as fathers have 
 sometimes more tenderness for their youngest children 
 than for the rest, he had so much for the last which 
 Heaven had given him, that some days before his 
 death he appointed him for his successor, to the ex- 
 clusion of his other brothers. This procedure was so 
 much the more extraordinary, as it was contrary to 
 the laws of the land. The people thought, after the 
 king's death; that they might endeavour, without any 
 crime, to advance the eldest of the royal family on 
 the throne This was executed as the people had 
 projected it ; and this action was generally approved. 
 There was none but the new kino' who, rememberins: 
 his father's dying words, refused to consent. This 
 generous prince took the crown that was presented 
 him, put it on his younger brother's head, and nobly 
 declared that he renounced it, and thought himself 
 unworthy of it, seeing that he had been excluded by 
 his father's will, and that his father could not retract 
 what he had done. The brother, touched with such 
 an heroic action, conjured him the same moment not
 
 A CHINESE PHILOSOPHER. 75 
 
 to oppose the inclination of all the people, who de- 
 sired him to reign over them. He alleged that it was 
 he alone who was the lawful successor to the crown, 
 which he contemned; that their father could not 
 violate the laws of the state ; that this prince was 
 overtaken by a too great fondness ; and that, in a 
 word, it in some measure belonged to the people to 
 redress the laws of their kings, when they were not 
 just. But nothing could persuade him to act contrary 
 to his father's will. Between these two princes there 
 was a laudable contest : neither of them would ac- 
 cept of the crown ; and they, seeing that this contest 
 would continue a long time, withdrew from the court, 
 and were vanquished and victorious together. They 
 went to end their days in the repose of solitude, and left 
 the kingdom to their brother. These princes," adds 
 he, " sought after virtue ; but they sought it not in 
 vain, for they found it. " 
 
 He frequently relates short histories of this nature, 
 wherein an heroic generosity is every where seen to 
 discover itself The women amongst the people, and 
 even great princesses, are therein observed rather to 
 choose death, and that with their own hands, than be 
 exposed to the violences of their ravishers. The ma- 
 gistrates are there seen to quit the greatest employ- 
 ments, to avoid the disorders of the court ; philoso- 
 phers censure kings upon their throne ; and princes 
 make no difficulty to die to appease the anger of 
 Heaven, and procure peace to their people.* 
 
 After this, Confucius shews how the dead ought to 
 
 * We find DO such examples of heroic virtue in the present age. 
 — Edjtor. 
 
 k2 '
 
 76 TirE MORALS OF CONFUCIUS, 
 
 be buried ; and, as this was performed in his time 
 with a great deal of magnificence, so, in funeral 
 pomps, he blames whatever seems like ostentation, 
 and reproves it after a severe manner. Indeed, one 
 of his disciples being dead, and this disciple being 
 buried with the usual magnificence, he cried out, 
 when he knew it, " When my disciple was alive, he 
 respected me as his father, and I looked upon him as 
 my son: but can I now behold him as my son, since 
 he has been buried like other men?" 
 
 He prohibits the bewailing the dead with excess ; 
 and if, constrained by his own grief, he shed tears for 
 this very disciple, he confessed he forgot himself: 
 that, in truth, great griefs have no bounds, but that 
 the wise man ought not to be overcome with grief; 
 that it is a weakness, it is a crime in him. 
 
 He gives great praises to some of his disciples, 
 who, in the midst of the greatest poverty, were con- 
 tent with their condition, and accounted as great 
 riches the natural virtues which they had received 
 from Heaven. 
 
 He declaims against pride, self-love, indiscretion, 
 and against the ridiculous vanity of those that affect 
 to be masters evei*y where ; against those self-con- 
 ceited men, who momentarily cite their own actions, 
 iind against great talkers : and, drawing afterwards 
 the portraiture of the wise man, in opposition to what 
 he has discoursed, he says, that humility, modesty, 
 gravity, and neighbourly affection, are virtues which 
 he cannot one moment neglect, without departing 
 from his character. 
 
 He says, that a good man never afflicts himself,
 
 A CHINESE PHILOSOPHER. T7 
 
 and fears nothings; that he contemns injuries, credits 
 not reproaches, and refuses even to hear bad reports. 
 
 He maintains that punishments are too common ;* 
 that, if the magistrates were good men, the wicked 
 would conform their life to theirs ; and that, if princes 
 would only advance to dignities persons distinguished 
 by their honesty and exemplary life, every one would 
 apply himself unto virtue, because, that grandeur 
 being that which all men naturally desire, every one 
 willing to possess it w ould endeavour to render him- 
 self worthy the public approbation. 
 
 He would have us avoid idleness ; to be serious, 
 and not precipitate in our answers ; and that, setting 
 ourselves above every thing, we should never be 
 troubled, either because we are contemned, or not 
 know^n in the world. 
 
 He compares hypocrites to those professed villains, 
 who, the better to conceal their designs from the eyes 
 of men, appear wise and modest in the day-time, and 
 who, by the favour of the night, rob houses, and com- 
 mit the most infamous crimes. 
 
 He says, that those who make their belly their god 
 never do any thing worthy of their rank as men ; that 
 they are rather brutes than rational creatures : and, 
 returning to the conduct of the great ones, he very 
 well remarks, that their crimes are always greater 
 than the crimes of other men. " Zam, the last em- 
 peror of the family of Chen," says Confucius on this 
 occasion, " had a very irregular conduct. But, how 
 irregular soever his conduct was, the disorders of this 
 
 * What would he have ihought on this subject, if he had lived in 
 England at the present period. — Editor.
 
 78 THE MORALS OF CONFUCIUS^ 
 
 emperor were only the disorders of his age. Never- 
 theless, when any tlebauched, criminal, or infamous 
 action is mentioned, they say — It is the crime of Zam. 
 The reason of which is this, Zam was wicked and an 
 emperor." 
 
 Confucius relates an infinite number of other things 
 of this nature, which concern the conduct of all sorts 
 of men : but most of the things which he says, or 
 which his disciples do say, are sentences and maxims, 
 as we have already declared ; the most considerable 
 of which are these that follow. 
 
 MAXIMS. 
 
 I. 
 ]Midea\our to imitate the wise, and never discou- 
 rage thyself, how laborious soever it may be : if thou 
 canst arrive at thine end, the pleasure thou wilt enjoy 
 will recompense all thy pains. 
 
 II. 
 When thou labourest for others, do it with the 
 same zeal as if it were for thyself. 
 
 III. 
 \irtue which is not supported with gravity gains 
 no reputation amongst men. 
 
 IV. 
 
 Always remember that thou art a man, that human 
 nature is frail, and that thou mayst easily fall ; and 
 thou shalt never foil. But if, happening to forget 
 
 3
 
 A CHINESE PHILOSOPHER. 79 
 
 what thou art, thou chancest to fail, be not discou- 
 raged : remember that thou mayst rise again ; that 
 it is in thy power to break the bands which join thee 
 to thine oifence, and to subdue the obstacles which 
 hinder thee froin walking in the paths of virtue. 
 
 V. 
 
 Take heed that thy promises be just, for, having 
 once promised, it is not lawful to retract: we ought 
 always to keep our promise. 
 
 VI. 
 
 When thou dost homage to any one, see that thy 
 submissions be proportioned to the homage thou 
 owest him : there are stupidity and pride in doing too 
 little; but, in overacting it, there are abjection and 
 hypocrisy. 
 
 VII. 
 
 Eat not for the pleasure thou mayst find therein : 
 eat to increase thy strength; eat to preserve the life 
 which thou hast received from Heaven. 
 
 VIII. 
 
 Labour to purify thy thoughts : if thy thoughts are 
 not ill, neither will thy actions be so. 
 
 IX. 
 
 The wise man has an infinity of pleasures; for 
 virtue has its delights in the midst of the severities 
 that attend it. 
 
 X. 
 
 He that in his studies wholly applies himself to 
 labour and exercise, and neglects meditation, loses 
 his time : and he that only applies himself to medita- 
 tion, and neglects labour and exercise, does only 
 wander and lose himself. The first can never know
 
 so THE MORALS OF CONFUCIL'S, 
 
 ;inv thino- exactly; his knowledge will be alvv^s 
 intcrniixed with doubts and obscurities : and the last 
 will only pursue shadows ; his knowledge will never 
 be certain, it will never be solid. Labour, but sHght 
 not meditation : meditate, but slight not labour. 
 
 XI. 
 
 A prince ought to punish vice, lest he seem to 
 maintain it : but yet he ought to keep his people in 
 their duty rather by the effects of clemency and good 
 example than by menaces and punishments. 
 
 XII. 
 
 Never slacken fidelity to thy prince ; conceal no- 
 thino- from him which it is his interest to know ; 
 and think nothing difficult when it tends to obey 
 him. 
 
 XIII. 
 
 When we cannot apply any remedy to an evil, it 
 is in vain to seek it. If, by thine advices and remon- 
 strances, thou couldst undo what is already done, 
 thy silence would be criminal : but there is nothing* 
 colder than advice, by which it is impossible to 
 profit. 
 
 xrv. 
 
 Poverty and human miseries are evils in them- 
 selves, but the wicked only resent them. It is a 
 burden under which they groan, and which makes 
 them at last to sink : they even distaste the best 
 fortune. It is the wise man only who is always 
 pleased: virtue renders his spirit quiet; nothing 
 troubles him, nothing disquiets him, because he 
 practises not virtue for a reward : the practice of 
 virtue is the sole recompense he expects.
 
 A CHINESE PHILOSOPHER. 81 
 
 XV. 
 
 It is only the good man who can make a right 
 clioice, who can either love or hate with reason, or as 
 need requires. 
 
 XVI. 
 
 He who applies himself to virtue, and strongly ad- 
 dicts himself thereunto, never commits any thing un- 
 becoming a man, nor contrary to right reason. 
 
 XVII. 
 
 Riches and honours are good ; the desire of pos- 
 sessing them is natural to all men: but, if these good 
 things agree not with virtue, the wise man ought to 
 contemn, and generously to renounce them. On the 
 contrary, poverty and ignominy are evils ; man na- 
 turally avoids them : if these evils attack the wise 
 man, it is lawful for him to rid himself from them, 
 but it is not lawful to do it by a crime. 
 
 XVIII. 
 
 I never as yet saw a man who was happy in his 
 virtue, or afflicted with his defects and weaknesses ; 
 but I am not surprised, because I would have him 
 who delights in virtue to find so many charms therein, 
 that for it he should contemn the pleasures of the 
 world ; and, on the contrary, that he who hates vice 
 should find it so hideous, that he should use all en- 
 deavours to keep himself from falling therein. 
 
 XIX. 
 
 It is not credible that he, who uses his utmost en- 
 deavours to acquire virtue, should not obtain it at 
 last, although he should labour but one single day. 
 I never yet saw a man that wanted strength for this 
 purpose.
 
 ^2' THE MORALS OF CONFUCIUS, 
 
 XX. 
 
 He who in the morning hath heard the voice of 
 virtue, may die at night. This man will not repent 
 of living, and death will not be any pain unto him. 
 
 XXI. 
 
 He who seeks pride in his habits, and loves not 
 frugality, is not disposed for the study of wisdom : 
 thou oughtst not even to hold correspondence with 
 him. 
 
 XXII. 
 
 Afflict not thyself because that thou art not pro- 
 moted to grandeur and public dignities : rather grieve 
 that thou art not, perhaps, adorned with those virtues 
 that might render thee worthy of being advanced. 
 
 XXIII. 
 
 The good man employs himself only with virtue, 
 the wicked only with his riches. The first continu- 
 ally thinks upon the good and interest of the state ; 
 but the last has other cares, he onlv thinks on what 
 concerns himself 
 
 XXIV, 
 
 Do unto another what you would he should do 
 unto you ; and do not unto another what you would 
 not should be done unto you. Thou only needst 
 this law alone, it is the foundation and principle of 
 all the rest.* 
 
 XXV. 
 
 The wise man has no sooner cast his eyes upon a 
 good man, than he endeavours to imitate his virtue : 
 but the same wise man has no sooner fixed his sight 
 
 ■»' 
 
 • See Matt. vii. 12. Luke vi. 31.
 
 A CHINESE PHILOSOPHER. (83 
 
 upon a man given up to his vices, than, mistrusting 
 himself, he interrogates himself, in a trembling man- 
 ner, if he be not like that man. 
 
 XXVI. 
 
 A child is obliged to serve and obey his father. 
 Parents have their failures : a child is obliged to ac- 
 quaint them therewith, but he ought to do it with 
 moderation and prudence ; and if, whatever precau- 
 tions he takes, he always meet with opposition, he 
 ought to rest awhile, but never desist. Counsels 
 given to parents do frequently draw punishments and 
 severities upon the child; but on this account he 
 ought to suffer, not to murmur. 
 
 XXVII. 
 
 The wise man never hastens, either in his studies 
 or his words ; he is sometimes, as it were, mute : 
 but, when it concerns him to act, and practise virtue, 
 he, as I may say, precipitates all. 
 
 XXVIII. 
 
 The truly wise man speaks little, he is little elo- 
 quent. I do not see that eloquence can be of very 
 great use to him. 
 
 XXIX. 
 
 A long experience is required to know the heart of 
 man. I imagined, when I was young, that all men 
 were sincere ; that they always practised what they 
 said ; in a word, that their mouth always agreed with 
 their heart : but now that I behold things with an- 
 other eye, I am convinced that I was mistaken. At 
 present, I hear what men say, but I never rely thereon. 
 I will examine whether their words are agreeable to 
 their actions. 
 
 l2
 
 84 THE MORALS OF CONFUCIUS, 
 
 XXX. 
 
 In the kingdom of Ci, there was formerly a prefect 
 
 who slew his king. Another prefect of the same 
 
 kingdom, beholding with horror the crime of this 
 
 parricide, quitted his dignity, forsook his wealth, and 
 
 retired into another kingdom. This wise minister 
 
 was not so happy as to find at first what he sought 
 
 after : in this new kingdom he only found wicked 
 
 ministers, little devoted to their master's interest. 
 
 " This," saith he, " shall not be the place of mine 
 
 abode ; I will elsewhere seek a retreat." But, always 
 
 meeting with men like to that perfidious minister, 
 
 who by his crime had forced him to abandon his 
 
 country, dignity, and all his estate, he went through 
 
 the whole earth. If thou demandst my thoughts 
 
 concerning such a man, I cannot refuse telling you 
 
 that he deserves great praise, and that he had a very 
 
 remarkable virtue. This is the judgment that every 
 
 rational man ought to make thereof; but, as we are 
 
 not the searchers of hearts, and as it is properly in 
 
 the heart that true virtue resides, I know not whether 
 
 his virtue was a true virtue : we ought not always to 
 
 judge of men by their outward actions. 
 
 XXXI. 
 
 I know a man, Avho passes for sincere in the people's 
 mind, who was asked for something that he had not. 
 Thou imaginest, perhaps, that he ingenuously con- 
 fessed that it was not in his power to grant what was 
 asked of him. He ought to do it, if his sincerity had 
 answered the report it had amongst the people ; but 
 behold how he took it: he went directly to a neigh* 
 bour's house ; he borrowed of him what was requested
 
 A CHINESE PHILOSOPHER. 85 
 
 of himself, and afterwards gave it him. I cannot 
 convince myself that this man can be sincere. 
 
 XXXII. 
 
 Refuse not what is given thee by thy prince, what 
 riches soever thou possessest. Give thy superfluities 
 to the poor. 
 
 XXXIII. 
 
 The defects of parents ought not to be imputed to 
 their children. Because that a father shall, by his 
 crimes, render himself unworthy of being promoted 
 to honour, the son ought not to be excluded, if he 
 do not render himself unworthy. Because that, if a 
 son shall be of an obscure birth, his birth ought not 
 to be his crime ; he ought to be called to great em- 
 ployments, as well as the sons of the nobles, if he has 
 the qualifications necessary. Our fathers heretofore 
 sacrificed victims only of a certain colour, and pitched 
 upon these colours according to the will of those that 
 sat upon the throne. Under the reign of one of our 
 emperors, the red colour was in vogue. Think you 
 that the deities, to which our fathers sacrificed under 
 this emperor's reign, would reject a red bull, because 
 it came from a cow of another colour? 
 
 xxxiv. 
 
 Prefer poverty and banishment to the most eminent 
 offices of state, when it is a wicked man that offers 
 them, and would constrain thee to accept them. 
 
 XXXV. 
 
 The way that leads to virtue is long, but it is thy 
 duty to finish this long race. Allege not for thy ex- 
 cuse, that thou hast not strength enough, that diffi- 
 culties discourage thee, and that thou shalt be at last 
 
 4
 
 86 THE MORALS OF CONFUCIUS, 
 
 forced to stop in the midst of thy course. TIiou 
 knovvst nothing, begin to run: it is a sign thou 
 hast not as yet begun ; thou shouldst not use this 
 language. 
 
 XXXVI. 
 
 It is not enough to know virtue, it is necessary to 
 love it ; but it is not sufficient to love it, it is necessary 
 to possess it. 
 
 xxxvii. 
 
 He that persecutes a good man, makes war against 
 Heaven. Heaven created virtue, and protects it: he 
 that persecutes it, persecutes Heaven, 
 xxxviii. 
 
 A magistrate ought to honour his father and mo- 
 ther ; he ought never to faulter in this just duty ; his 
 example ought to instruct the people. He ought not 
 to contemn old persons, nor persons of merit: the 
 people may imitate him.* 
 
 xxxix. 
 
 A child ought to be under a continual apprehen- 
 sion of doing something that may displease hisfatlier: 
 this fear ought always to possess him. In a word, 
 he ought to act, in whatever he undertakes, with so 
 much precaution, that he may never offend him, or 
 afflict him. 
 
 XL. 
 
 Greatness of spirit, power, and perseverance, 
 ought to be the portion of the wise : the burden 
 wherewith he is loaded is weighty; his course is 
 long. 
 
 * See Matt, xix. 19.
 
 A CHINESE PHILOSOPHER. 87 
 
 XLI. 
 
 The wise man never acts without counsel. He 
 sometimes consults, in the most important affairs, 
 even the least intelligent persons, — men that have 
 the least spirit, and the least experience. When 
 counsels are good, we .ought not to consider from 
 whence they come. 
 
 XLII. 
 
 Eschew vanity and pride. Although thou hadst 
 all the prudence and ability of the ancients, if thou 
 hast not humility, thou hast nothing ; thou art even 
 the man of the world that deserves to be contemned.* 
 
 XLIII. 
 
 Learn what thou knowst already, as if thou hadst 
 never learned it : tilings are never so well known but 
 that we may forget them. 
 
 XLIV. 
 
 Do nothing that is unhandsome, although tliou 
 shouldst have art enough to make thine action ap- 
 proved : thou mayst easily deceive the eyes of man, 
 but thou canst never deceive Heaven, — its eyes are 
 too penetrative and clear. 
 
 XLV. 
 
 Never contract friendship with a man that is not 
 better than thyself 
 
 XLV I. 
 
 The wise man blushes at his faults, but is not 
 ashamed to amend them. 
 
 XLVII. 
 
 He that lives without envy and covetousness may 
 aspire at every thing. 
 
 * See Luke xiv. 8. St. Johu, xiii. 14.
 
 88 THE MORALS OF CONFUCIUS, 
 
 XLVIII. 
 
 Wouldst thou learn to die well ? — learn first to live 
 well. 
 
 XLIX. 
 
 A minister of state ought never to serve his prince 
 in his extravagances and injustice. He ought rather 
 to renounce his office than tarnish it by base and 
 criminal actions. 
 
 L. 
 
 Innocence ceases to be a virtue : most of the great 
 ones are fallen therefrom. But, if thou demandst 
 what must be done to recover this virtue, I answer, 
 that it is necessary to conquer thyself If all mortals 
 could, in one day, gain over themselves this happy 
 victory, the whole universe would, from this very day, 
 re-assume a new form : we should all be perfect, we 
 should all be innocent. It is true, the victory is dif- 
 ficult, but it is not impossible ; for, in short, to con- 
 quer thyself is only to do what is agreeable to reason. 
 Turn away thine eyes, stop thine ears, put a bridle 
 upon thy tongue, and rather remain in an etenial 
 inaction than employ thine eyes in beholding sights 
 where reason is stifled, than give attention there- 
 unto, or to discourse thereon. Behold, how thou 
 mayst overcome! The victory depends on thyself 
 alone. 
 
 LT. 
 
 Desire not the death of thine enemy : thou wouldst 
 desire it in vain ; his life is in the hands of Heaven.* 
 
 LII. 
 
 It is easy to obey the wise; he commands nothing 
 * See Matt. v. 43 and 44.
 
 A CHINESE PHILOSOPHER. 89 
 
 impossible, but is hard to divert him therefrom : that 
 which oftentimes rejoices others makes him to sigh, 
 and forces torrents of tears from his eyes. 
 
 LIII. 
 
 Acknowledge thy benefits by the return of other 
 benefits, but never revenge injuries.* 
 
 LIV. 
 
 In what part of the world soever thou art forced to 
 spend thy life, correspond with the wisest, associate 
 with the best men. 
 
 LV. 
 
 To sin, and not to repent, is properly to sin. 
 
 LVI. 
 
 It is good to fast sometimes, to give thy mind to 
 meditation, and to the stiivdy of virtue. The wise 
 man is taken up with other cares than with the 
 continual cares of his nourishment. The best cul- 
 tivated earth frustrates the hopes of the labourer 
 when the seasons are irregular : all the rules of 
 husbandry could not secure him from death in the 
 time of a hard famine; but virtue is never fruit- 
 less. 
 
 LVII. 
 
 The wise man must learn to know the heart of 
 man, to the end that, taking every one according to 
 his own inclination, he may not labour in vain, when 
 he shall discourse to him of virtue. All men ought 
 not to be instructed after the same way. There are 
 divers paths that lead to virtue ; the wise man ought 
 not to be ignorant of them. 
 
 * See also MaU. v. 44. Luke vi. Q7> ^8. 
 M
 
 90 THE MORALS OF CONFUCIUS, 
 
 LVIII. 
 
 Combat night and day against thy vices ; and if, 
 by thy cares and vigilance, thou gainest the victory 
 over thyself, courageously attack the vices of others ; 
 but attack them not before this be done : there is 
 nothing more ridiculous than to complain of others* 
 defects, when we have the very same.* 
 
 LIX. 
 
 The good man sins sometimes ; weakness is natural 
 to him: but he ought to watch so diligently over 
 himself that he may never fall twice into the same 
 crime. 
 
 LX. 
 
 We have three friends that are useful to us, — a 
 sincere friend, a faithful friend, a friend that hears 
 every thing, that examines what is told him, and that 
 speaks little: but we have three also whose friend- 
 vship is pernicious, — a hypocrite, a flatterer, and a 
 great talker. 
 
 LXI. 
 
 He that applieshimself to virtue has three enemies to 
 contend with, which he must subdue, — incontinence, 
 when he is as yet in the vigour of his age, and the 
 blood boils in his veins ; contests and disputes, when 
 he is arrived at a mature age ; and covetousness, 
 when he is old. 
 
 LXII. 
 
 There are three things w hich the wise man ought to 
 reverence, — the laws of Heaven, great men, and the 
 words of good men. 
 
 • See Matt. vii. 4, o. iUke, vi. 37, 41, 42.
 
 A CHINESE PHILOSOPHER. 
 
 m 
 
 LXIII. 
 
 We may have an aversion for an enemy, without 
 desiring revenge : the motions of nature are not al- 
 jvays criminal.* 
 
 LXIV. 
 
 Distrust a flatterer, a man affected in his discourses, 
 and who every where boasts of his eloquence : this is 
 pot the character of true virtue. 
 
 LXV. 
 
 Silence is absolutely necessary to the wise man. 
 Great discourses, elaborate discourses, pieces of elo- 
 quence, ought to be a language unknown to him : his 
 actions ought to be his language. As for me, I 
 would never speak more. Heaven speaks ; but what 
 language does it use to preach to men ? — That there 
 is a sovereign principle, from whence all things de- 
 pend ; a sovereign principle, which makes them to 
 act and to move. Its motion is its language ; it re- 
 duces the seasons to their time, it agitates nature, it 
 fioiakes it produce : this silence is eloquent. 
 
 .V LXVI. 
 
 The wise man ought to hate several sorts of men : 
 he ought to hate those that divulge the defects of 
 others, and take delight in discoursing therein : he 
 ought to hate those who, being adorned only with 
 very mean qualities, and who being moreover of a 
 low birth, do revile and temerariously murmur against 
 those that are promoted to dignities of state : he 
 ought to hate a valiant man, when his valour is not 
 accompanied with civility, or prudence : he ought 
 
 * See Matt. v. 44. Luke vi. 27. 
 M 2
 
 §2 THE MORALS OF CONFUCIUS. 
 
 to hate tliose sort of men who are puffed up with self- 
 love ; who are always conceited of their own merit, 
 and admirers of their own perfections, do assault all, 
 deride all, and never consult reason : he ought to hate 
 those who, having very small illuminations, do pre- 
 sume to censure what others do : he ought to hate 
 proud men. In a word, he ought to hate those who 
 make it a custom to spy out others' defects, to publish 
 them,* 
 
 LXVII. 
 
 It is very difficult to associate with the populace : 
 these sort of men grow familiar and insolent when 
 we have too much correspondence with them ; and, 
 because they imagine they are slighted when they are 
 ever so little neglected, we draw their aversion upon 
 us. 
 
 LXVIII. 
 
 He who is arrived at the fortieth year of his age, 
 and who has hitherto been a slave to some criminal 
 habit, is not in a condition to subdue it. I hold this 
 malady incurable ; he will persevere in his crime 
 until death. 
 
 LXIX. 
 
 Afflict not thyself at the death of a brother : death 
 and life are in the power of Heaven, to which the wise 
 man is bound to submit. Moreover, all the men of 
 the earth are thy brethren : why then shouldst thou 
 weep for one, at a time when so many others remain 
 alive ? 
 
 * Luke vi. 41, 42.
 
 A CHINESE PHILOSOPHER. 93 
 
 LXX. 
 
 The natural light is only a perpetual conformity of 
 our soul with the laws of Heaven : men never can 
 lose this light. It is true that the heart of man, being 
 inconstant and w^avering, it is sometimes covered 
 over with so many clouds, that it seems wholly ex- 
 tinguished. The wise man experiences it himself; 
 for he may fall into small errors, and commit light 
 offences : yet the wise man cannot be virtuous while 
 he is in this state ; it would be a contradiction to 
 say it. 
 
 LXXI. 
 
 It is very difficult, when poor, not to hate poverty : 
 but it is possible to be rich without being proud. 
 
 Lxxn. 
 
 The men of the first ages applied themselves to 
 learning and knowledge only for themselves ; that is 
 to say, to become virtuous : this was all the praise 
 they expected from their labours and lucubrations. 
 But men at present do only seek praise ; they study 
 only out of vanity, and to pass for learned in the 
 esteem of men. 
 
 LXXIII. 
 
 The wise man seeks the cause of his defects in 
 himself: but the fool, avoiding himself, seeks it in all 
 others besides himself. 
 
 LXXIV. 
 
 The wise man ought to have a severe gravity, but 
 it ought not to be fierce and untractable. He ought 
 to love society, but to avoid great assemblies. 
 
 LXXV. 
 
 The love or hatred of people ought not to be the 
 3
 
 94 TIIK MORALS OF CONFUCIUS. 
 
 rule of thy love or liatxed ; examine whether they 
 have reason. 
 
 LXXVI. 
 
 Contract friendship with a man whose heart is 
 uprio-ht and sincere ; with a man who loves to learn, 
 and who can teach thee something in his turn. Other 
 men are unworthy of thy friendship. 
 
 LXXVII. 
 
 He who has faults, and strives not to amend them, 
 ought at least to do his endeavour to conceal them. 
 The wise man's defects are like the eclipses of the 
 sun, — they come to every one's knowledge : the wise 
 man ought, upon this account, to endeavour to cover 
 himself with a cloud. I say the same thing of princes. 
 Lxxvin. 
 
 Readily abandon thy country when virtue is there 
 depressed and vice encouraged. But, if thou de- 
 signest not to renounce the maxims of the age in thy 
 retreat and exile, remain in thy miserable country : 
 for what reason shouldst thou leave it ? 
 
 LXXIX. 
 
 When thy country's safety is concerned, stand not 
 to consult, but expose thyself. 
 
 LXXX. 
 
 Heaven shortens not the life of man; it is man 
 w ho does it by his own crimes. Thou raayst avoid 
 the calamities that come from Heaven ; but thou 
 canst never escape those which thou drawst upon 
 thyself by thy crimes. 
 
 THE END.
 
 THE 
 
 LIFE AND MORALS 
 
 or 
 
 EPICURUS; 
 
 TRANSLATED FROM THE GREEK, 
 
 BY JOHN DIGBY, Esq. 
 
 friTH COMMENTS AND REFLECTIONS FROM SEVERAL AUTHORS. 
 TO WHICH ARE ADDED, 
 
 ^n lEsigaB on tf)t JWlaral^ of iEpifuru^, 
 
 By monsieur St. EVERMONT. 
 
 / 
 
 AND ALSO, 
 
 THE ADVICE OF ISOCRATES TO Di:MONICU.S 
 
 Translated from the Greek, 
 
 By JOHN DIGBY, T.sa. 
 
 Reprinted f)07n the Edition of 171 "2, und 
 EDITED BY JOSEPHUS TELA. 
 
 LONDON: 
 PRINTED FOU THE PROPRIETOR, 
 
 By Jiis. Adlard aud Sons, 23, Kartliolomew Close; 
 
 PUnLtSHED BY J. SOUTEK, 73, ST. PALI.S CHUKCH-YARD, AM) TO 
 
 llE HAD OF EVERY BOOKSELLER IN THE UNITED KINGDOM. 
 
 1818.
 
 TO THE 
 
 Right Honorable the LORD SCUDAMORE. 
 
 My Lord, 
 
 The Author I take the liberty to put under 
 your protection was so great a man, tliat I 
 have reason to hope your Lordship (who is so 
 good a judge in things of this nature) will not 
 take it ill, that I do him the honour to prefix 
 your name to his Book. 
 
 It is true, he is objected against by some, 
 for placing the sovereign good of life in plea- 
 surej which, being maliciously interpreted, 
 aflbrded an opportunity to his enemies to ca- 
 lumniate him, and, out of envy and pique, 
 suggest to the world that he patronised 
 voluptuousness and all kind of excess. But 
 he vindicates himself sufficiently from that 
 imputation and scandal, by interpreting what
 
 IV. 
 
 he means by Pleasure; and gives us plainly 
 to understand, that, by the word Pleasure, he 
 means nothing else than the satisfaction that 
 arises from a peaceable and quiet conscience, 
 that has no remorse nor uneasiness from ill 
 actions ; to which happy state if health of 
 body was joined, he thought nothing was 
 wanting to a consummate felicity : and, to con- 
 vince the world of the excellence of his no- 
 tions, he reduced them into practice, and lived 
 after so exemplary a manner, that there was 
 not the least room left to censure him on that 
 score ; some of the worst of his enemies hav- 
 ing thought it necessary, for their own honour's 
 sake, to do him justice in their writings. He 
 possessed a sublime wit, a profound judg- 
 ment, and was a great master of temper- 
 ance, sobriet}^ continence, fortitude, and all 
 other virtues ; no patron of impiety, gluttony, 
 drunkenness, luxury, or intemperance, as the 
 common people generally conceive him to 
 have been. 
 
 The opinions asserted by him in this treatise 
 concerning Ethics, which have so much in-
 
 V. 
 
 censed the world against him, are these two : 
 — 1. That the sonls of men are mortal, and 
 incapable of either happiness or misery after 
 death. 2. That man is not obliged to honour, 
 revere, and worship God, in respect of his 
 beneficence, or out of the hope of any good, 
 or fear of evil at his hands; but merely in 
 respect of the transcendent excellencies of 
 his nature, immortality, and beatitude. 
 
 Epicurus is not the only man amongst the 
 ancients that is to be accused for entertaining 
 and divulging those opinions of the nature 
 and condition of the soul after death, it being 
 well known, that most of the Grecian and 
 other philosophers did the same, either im- 
 plicitly or immediately, and in direct terms. 
 Such were Averrhoes, Dictearchus, Aristoxe- 
 nus, Andraeas, Asclepiades, Galen, Democri- 
 tus, Zeno, Socrates, and many other great, 
 good, and wise, men. 
 
 I have annexed to the Morals of Epicurus, 
 the Advice of Isocrates to Demonicus, which 
 I have faithfully translated from the Greek. 
 I added it here on two accounts ; — first, be- 
 cause the subject of both authors is moral, 
 
 c
 
 VI. 
 
 and so they have a reciprocal analogy one to 
 the other ; secondly, because I had a mind to 
 give my country a taste of that famous man's 
 Works. I shall therefore rely upon my two 
 philosophers to convince your lordship of the 
 veneration and respect with which I am, 
 
 My Lord, 
 Your Lordship's most obedient 
 
 And most humble Servant, 
 
 JOHN DIGBY.
 
 PREFACE. 
 
 -<»a99a 
 
 It is not in the nature of slander and calumny to re- 
 spect any body; nay, it is so outrageous sometimes 
 as to cast its venom even on the very throne ; it in- 
 sinuates itself amongst the most virtuous societies, 
 and frequently attacks and oppresses the most inno- 
 cent ; the Deity itself has not been free from its as- 
 persions ; and, as most commonly, its success depends 
 on certain circumstances, and the subtle method it 
 uses to fasten itself on its object : that of the Stoics 
 against Epicurus was of this character. 
 
 The affected exterior of these philosophers, their 
 pretended zeal for virtue, the fastuous austerity of 
 their precepts, and the magnificent expressions with 
 which they cloaked their impOi3tures, procured them 
 at first some success. It is, (says Demosthenes,) the 
 peculiar property of calumny, to scatter her poison for 
 some time, but at last truth triumphs over her artifices, 
 and she is destroyed by her own wealmess. 
 
 The scandalous falsehood of that with which our 
 philosopher was attacked, was at length discovered, 
 and this great man was beloved by all the learned of 
 his time ; his country honoured him with statues ; his 
 
 B 2
 
 VUl. 
 
 opinion gained ground by his writings, insomuch that 
 Pliny reports, it was thought an honour to have his 
 picture in the halls ; nay, he was so far admired, that 
 persons of distinction would have it about them ; and 
 on the twentieth of the moon they celebrated a festival 
 in honour of his images. 
 
 He laid open to the eyes of the world, the beauty 
 of his interior, by the rules he prescribed for a good 
 life ; he despised the malicious fictions of the invidious, 
 not ihinidng them worth confuting. Could there be 
 occasion for any other apology, than a life without 
 reproach, and a virtue without the least affectation? 
 
 He has found amongst his professed enemies some 
 witnesses of the integrity of his morals. Seneca has 
 written honourably of him ; and, if the authority of 
 that famous Stoic be of any weight, the most con- 
 siderable men of that sect did not believe what the 
 vuloar imagined to his disadvantage. His words are 
 remarkable: I must own (without having the least 
 complaisance for the common people) that Epicurus 
 taught nothing but what was conformable to equity 
 and reason : nay, I dare assert, that, if his precepts 
 are duly examined, there will be nothing found 
 therein, but what is of the last austerity. He dis- 
 plays all his eloquence to evince that this illustrious 
 Creek is not so remote (as is imagined,) from the 
 opinion of the Stoics, and that they have but one 
 and the same scope and end, differing only in 
 method. 
 
 Cicero, notwithstanding his objections to this phi- 
 losopher, shews always a great esteem for him ; and 
 St. Austin, whose piety and virtue cannot be suS"
 
 IX. 
 
 pected, is not hurried away with that furious zeal 
 that possesses the minds of some persons, who make 
 no scruple to condemn Epicurus, without giving 
 themselves the trouble to examine his morals. 
 
 This learned doctor, after a serious reflection on all 
 the philosophers, declares, to the immortal honour of 
 Epicurus, that he should prefer him to all those that 
 antiquity can boast of, if he had believed, that in the 
 other world there were rewards and punishments. 
 
 This philosopher had no knowledge of the true 
 religion : Paganism, that was professed throughout 
 his country, and almost all over the known world, 
 seems to apologize in some measure for this igno- 
 rance ; but it cannot be imputed as a crime to me, 
 if I venture to maintain, that he led a moral life. It 
 would be abusing the public faith, insulting antiquity, 
 injuring the living, and lying to posterity, to repre- 
 sent a man, as a voluptuous profligate wretch, whose 
 life was without the least blemish, who shewed us 
 the charms and beauties of virtue, and the effectual 
 means to shun vice ; who, in fine, instructed us how 
 to make reason triumph over the irregularity of our 
 passions, and required they should be suppressed by 
 a serious reflection on their dismal and melancholy 
 consequences. 
 
 I must confess he gives a false idea of the Deity ; 
 and, whatever colour he may put on what he has said, 
 it must be allowed to be injurious. But Cicero ob- 
 serves very well, that his error proceeded from the 
 fear he had of incurring the displeasure of the Athe- 
 nians. He asserted somethino; eternal besides the 
 Deity, and consequently his opinion therein must be
 
 X. 
 
 very erroneous, since it is the property of an eternal 
 and innnorlal Being to admit no sharer in that pre- 
 roo'ativc; and the moment he assigns to the atom, 
 the attribute of eternity, he makes a partition of what 
 is inseparably God's, who neither admits of addition 
 or diminution. 
 
 The Pagan philosophers never had a right know- 
 ledge of this august and incomprehensible Being. 
 
 Aristotle gives a very noble idea of him, when he 
 represents him as absolutely necessary to nature for 
 its conduct and support, as the pilot is to the ship, 
 the master of music to the choir, the general to his 
 army, and as the law is to the state ; and yet he 
 injures him at the same time, since he will have 
 the world to be eternal. Is not that properly allow- 
 ing two Divinities, and by consequence destroying 
 them ? 
 
 Does not Plato pretend that the sun, the moon, 
 and planets, are God's? and, as great a loose as the 
 Stoics give to their lofty expressions concerning the 
 Author of this vast immensity, yet they make him 
 subject to destiny. How ridiculous is it, to imagine 
 the adorable Omnipotent, to be subject to the decrees 
 of fate ; and prove that there is a God only to have the 
 temerity to prefer to him the chimerical work of their 
 sajje. 
 
 It is no wonder Epicurus, who was a Pagan, should 
 be without light, being surrounded on all sides with 
 palpable darkness. That there is a God, is an incon- 
 tcstible truth. But who can pretend to know that 
 truth perfectly besides the Christian ? It is he alone 
 that is cominced of whatever those philosophers
 
 doubted oi* were ignorant of : Faith is his master, sh© 
 Hghts him in the dark, and makes him understand 
 how meritorious it is to submit reason to her; she 
 forces him to deliver himself up entirely to her con- 
 duct, and gives him that serenity of mind which phi- 
 losophy gives, at best, but faint hopes of; she may be 
 said to be a spiritual looking-glass that represents 
 mysterious objects, according as they are considered ; 
 if we bring the necessary humility, all is immediately 
 laid open to us : — there is no perplexity or difficulty; 
 we immediately partake of the felicity of the angels ; 
 but, if we are inconsiderate enough to go beyond what 
 she represents to us, we are suddenly dazzled, — our 
 pride blinds us, and all our loiowledge only ser\-es to 
 deceive us. 
 
 Poor distressed reason ! Canst thou be so weak as 
 to think the Deity the work of a syllogism ? Canst 
 thou ever hope to fathom what is, and ever will be, in- 
 comprehensible ? To desire to be convinced by any 
 human means of the grandeur of his infinite Majesty, 
 were to resemble that deceived, though great, mathe- 
 matician, who required no more than to be removed 
 any where out of our globe, to fix it in any other 
 situation. It is, (says St. Gregory Nazianzen,) flatter- 
 ing ourselves with what we can never attain to ; like 
 the unhappy Tantalus of the poets, who, though near 
 the water, could not quench his thirst, parched up at 
 the same time with a continual drought. It were 
 carrying the mysterious science of numbers even 
 beyond the impracticable calculation of the grains of 
 sand in the seas ; it were, in fine, undertaking, on the 
 wings of the wind, to dispute with the eagle the swift-
 
 Xll. 
 
 ncss of flight. Nature, that would not yet exist had 
 it not been for the goodness and omnipotence of Him 
 who neitlier had beginning nor can have an end, de- 
 clares in our hearts the existence of this adorable 
 Being. 
 
 It is also objected that Epicurus believed the mor- 
 tality of the soul : to which we may answer, that, not 
 having (as we have) faith for his guide, he held that 
 opinion as being a consequence of his system ; and, 
 as he had established body and vacuity for principles, 
 and the efficient causes of nature, he was necessitated 
 to maintain that the soul was not spiritual, and so by 
 consequence subject to a dissolution. Tertullian him- 
 self believed it corporeal : but the reason St. Austin 
 gives for it is, that he would have it so thought, that 
 its existence mio-ht not be doubted of: but it matters 
 not what our philosopher may have said on this sub- 
 ject, — faith tells us A\'hat we ought to believe ; and, 
 Anselmus says, it is a malignant temerity to dare 
 to oppose what she teaches, because it is above 
 our comprehension. It is altogether absurd to 
 determine the impossibility of a thing, because its 
 existence is not sensible. It is much better, (says he,) 
 to own, with humility, the imperfection of our know- 
 ledge, and that there are many things beyond our 
 penetration. The soul, most certainly, is not a col- 
 lection of subtle bodies, its essence is admirable and 
 immortal; but, in Seneca's opinion, man partakes 
 too much of the mortal, to be able to attain to the 
 knowledge of things that are not conformable to his 
 nature. 
 
 H(i did not believe neither that the world was mad« 
 
 3
 
 Xlll. 
 
 of nothing ; and that must be confessed to be the 
 general opinion of most natural philosophers. But 
 what system of philosophy is there, that the Christian 
 does not submit to the yoke of faith? he glories in 
 putting a stop to the flight of his genius, where he re- 
 flects that St. Paul the Apostle informs him, that he 
 eught to despise the tradition of men, and the prin- 
 ciples they establish, when they interfere with the 
 commands of God. 
 
 Epicurus maintained, likewise, that the universe 
 was not governed by any intellectual being ; and that 
 what passed for regular motions, as the seasons, the 
 course of the stars, and many other things, were only 
 a consequence of the first frame. Now, this must be, 
 confessed to be so gross an error, that reason does not 
 think it worth the confuting. It is impossible chance 
 should be so constantly happy in its effects, as to pro- 
 duce so many wonders ; and we need but cast our eye 
 upon the vast extent of things ; and we shall discover 
 by undeniable proofs, that nothing moves but by the 
 concurrence of him, who stood in need of nothing but 
 his own will to produce all nature. Can there be 
 any thing so ridiculous, (says St. Austin,) as to take 
 from Providence the guidance of the universe, since 
 we plainly see, she discovers herself in the smallest 
 things ? 
 
 The errors of Epicurus in physical matters are no ob- 
 stacle to the integrity of his morals. He has prescribed 
 rules for the felicity of life, that are full of severity and 
 wisdom ; he sets prudence at the head of all the vir- 
 tues, and prefers it even to philosophy itself 
 
 In fine, St. Jerome has restored the reputation of 
 
 G
 
 XIV 
 
 our philosopher. Is it not a thing worthy our admi- 
 ration, (says this father of the church,) that Epicurus, 
 who is looked upon as the patron of voluptuousness, 
 inculcates nothing else in his writings than that, to 
 li\e agreeably, we stand in need but of herbs, fruits, 
 and simple nourishment? and that the being too 
 nice in our food, creates more pain than pleasure ? 
 that bread and water are sufficient for the body; 
 and that high feeding is not necessary for its pre- 
 servation? It is through a vicious inclination that 
 we abandon ourselves to excess : eating and drinking 
 are intended to allay hunger and quench thirst, and 
 not to flatter our intemperance. They who indulge 
 feasting, have generally in view unwarrantable plea- 
 sures ; whereas, they who live soberly, do not find in 
 themselves that unruly proneness to vice ; moreover, 
 wisdom (which is gained only by labour) is not ac- 
 quirable in that voluptuous kind of life. Nature is 
 content with little ; a plain diet appeases hunger, and 
 ordinary cloathing protects us from the rigour of the 
 weather. One would almost think that this holy 
 doctor had taken this passage entirely from Porphy- 
 rius, where lie speaks of abstaining from flesh. He 
 there relates Epicurus' sentiments and precepts con- 
 cerning frugality and sobriety, which he assures us 
 were in his time strictly observed by the followers of 
 this famous Greek. 
 
 Genustus Pletho, a great Platonic, who lived about 
 two hundred years since, says, that Epicurus looked 
 upon the serenity of mind as what constituted the 
 felicity of life; and John Gerson, taking notice of the 
 different opinions of the euicient philosophers con-
 
 XV. 
 
 cerning this same sovereign good, says, '' that some 
 have placed it either in pleasure or tranquillity of 
 mind, as Epicurus did, whom Seneca mentions with 
 so much respect in his Epistles : for, as for the other 
 Epicurus, Aristippus, Sardanapalus, and Mahomet, 
 who believed that the happiness of life consisted in 
 the pleasures of the body, — they are unworthy the 
 name of philosophers." This famous chancellor of the 
 university of Paris thought there had been two Epi- 
 curuses, although there was but one ; but his mistake 
 proceeded from this, — that he could not imagine that 
 he whom the Stoics spoke of, and who had been so 
 misrepresented by several others, could be the same 
 that Seneca speaks of with so much esteem. 
 
 But a modern author has set Epicurus' doctrine 
 in its true light ; he has done justice to his virtue, by 
 the line apology he has written in his justification ; 
 but what I look upon to be most to the honour of this 
 great man, is the approbation of him, who has nicely 
 examined his moral. This learned successor of Ger- 
 son, who joined piety to learning, judgment to pene- 
 tration, and elegance of expression to the solidity of 
 the subjects he handles, has, in a few words, made 
 the eulogium of our philosopher. He does justice to 
 the virtue of the Pagans, and at the same time 
 shews the excellency of that of Christianity ; and, if he 
 praises the one, it is to make that shine more glo- 
 riously which we learn in the school of religion. 
 
 c2
 
 THE 
 
 LIFE 
 
 EPICURUS. 
 
 WRITTEN BY MONSIEUR DU ROUDEL. 
 
 Epicurus was born at a little town called Gargettum, 
 belonging to the Athenian territory, in the third year 
 of the hundred and ninth olympiad, or 342 B.C. 
 He was carried in his infancy to Samos by his father 
 and mother, Neocles and Cherestrate. Their family, 
 which descended from Phileus, one of the sons of the 
 famous Ajax, being of the number of those the Athe- 
 nian council caused to be transported to Samos, in 
 order to establish a colony there, the better to curb 
 the Samians, who were at that time suspected to 
 have ill designs against that republic. 
 
 It was here Epicurus (who constantly went with 
 his mother to the temple of Juno) learnt that inex- 
 pressible piety by the Greeks, called o(noT>iT« aAsxTov, 
 and that profound veneration for the gods, which 
 since made the most considerable part of his virtue.
 
 2 THE LIFE OF EPICURUS. 
 
 This magnificent temple, the decency and pomp 
 of the ceremonies, tlie melodious hymns, and the vast 
 concourse of people that resorted thither from all 
 parts, together with the dread that the awful presence 
 of the goddess caused, made without doubt an im- 
 pression on the heart of Epicurus, as yet young and 
 tender, and inspired him with that extraordinary 
 devotion, that made him and his mother repair to 
 deserled aixd enchanted houses, to drive out by their 
 prayers the evil spirits that haunted them. 
 
 He began at the age of fourteen to have an incli- 
 nation for philosophy ; and, as a grammarian was ex- 
 pounding a verse out of Hesiodus, concerning the 
 origin of the chaos, Epicurus asked him, what the 
 chaos was ] — whence it had its beginning, and w hat 
 hands could dispose it into that order? — what it was 
 in itself ? Nothing but confusion, the grammarian 
 answered him; that the philosophers must resolve 
 him, as to those points. — Why, then, (says Epicurus,) 
 I will repair to them, and they shall explain to me 
 this chaos, since they are skilled in natural causes, 
 Avhich thou ait ignorant of. 
 
 He first frequented Pamphilus the Platonic, after- 
 wards Nausiphanes the Pythagorean, and at last he 
 applied himself to the writings of Anaxagoras, De- 
 mocritus, and Archilas, the master of Socrates. 
 
 He found in all of them something that pleased 
 him ; but, not being satisfied with any of them par- 
 ticularly, he imagined it was but making a judicious 
 choice of their most reasonable sentiments, to compose 
 a perfect system. Accordingly, he did so. The work 
 took him up eighteen years to finish ; which done,
 
 THE LIFE OF EPICURUS. 3 
 
 he opened a school at Mytilene, and afterwards at 
 Lampsacum. 
 
 At first, he professed himself only a disciple of 
 Democritus ; but his curiosity, or some domestic 
 aiiair, causing; him to go to Athens, during the ar- 
 chonship* of Anaxicrates, he there conversed with all 
 tlie philosophers ; after which he made himself the 
 head of a party. 
 
 That which moved him to do this, was the per- 
 plexity he found Democritus in ; who, believing the 
 operations of nature to be necessary, was there hard 
 put to it to save free-will. For, although it be true, 
 that things act only according to their causes and 
 that these causes are capable of being causes only 
 by reason of others that preceded them ; neverthelass 
 it is certain, there are some, that act of themselves, 
 and are themselves the principles of their motions. 
 
 For example, — it is true, that this year's fruits 
 were produced by trees, that these trees were them- 
 selves produced by others, and so upward for ages 
 past ; it is true, these trees necessarily produce their 
 fruits, all the conditions requisite concurring; where- 
 as, I, that write the Life of Epicurus, might choose 
 whether I would write it or not, notwithstanding I 
 have a pen, ink, and paper, by me ; and that I have 
 read the ancients, and the Life of Epicurus by the 
 famous G anssendy. He therefore thought it necessary 
 to admit of certain atoms, for the cause of the motion 
 of declination tyxAiVjcor, without which there would be 
 HO liberty left to man ; that is to say, all his actions 
 
 * The arclion was the chief niajjistrate in Athens.
 
 4 THE LIFE OF EPICURUS. 
 
 Avoiild depend on necessity and inevitable fatality; 
 from \> hence it Avonld follow, that they could not rea- 
 sonably be blamed nor praised, and so could not be 
 innocently punished, either by the authority of justice 
 or religion. 
 
 He had another reason to quit Deniocritus' opi- 
 nion ; which was, because this philosopher did not 
 sufficiently explain the beginning and end of the se- 
 veral worlds ; and that they who read his works, could 
 conceive no other opinion than that these worlds ap- 
 peared and disappeared at the same time. 
 
 As this opinion made them uneasy, with reference 
 to the comets, which were by several of Deniocritus* 
 disciples, as well as those of Pythagoras and Orpheus, 
 taken to be so many distinct worlds, which they saw 
 plainly disappear ; Epicurus invented as many whirls 
 as there were worlds, in which each of them might 
 suffer a dissolution, and reassume afresh, being w ith- 
 out any detriment to the universe in general. 
 
 My design is not to relate here all Epicurus' no- 
 tions ; what I have already said, is only to show the 
 necessity lie was under to leave Deniocritus' sen- 
 timents. It is true, he forsakes him on other scores 
 not altogether so plausible ; but that was because he 
 was persuaded, that we ought not to be too bold in 
 mixing mathematical speculations with natural phi- 
 losophy ; and that we ought rather to be determined 
 by our senses and experience, than all the reasonings 
 of men. 
 
 It was what made him abandon this great natu- 
 ralist ; for, as nobody has ever been in those regions, 
 as Lucian observes, he very reasonably conceived that 
 
 3
 
 THE LIFE OF EPICURUS. 5 
 
 it was easy to make a mistake concerning many 
 things, without risking the danger of being esteemed 
 either ignorant or rash. 
 
 In truth, is it not a pity, to behold the astronomers, 
 even of our own learned and clear-sighted age, con- 
 testing about the bigness of the sun? Copernicus 
 makes it one hundred and sixty-two times bigger than 
 the earth ; Tycho, one hundred and thirty-nine ; Lan- 
 spergius, four hundred and thirty-four ; and Kepler, 
 three thousand four hundred and sixty-nine : and this, 
 as they all think, witliout erring a little ; and, what 
 is still more pleasant, they all pretend to prove their 
 opinion by mathematical demonstration. 
 
 Epicurus was then in the right to say, that possibly 
 these things might be, — nobody knowing the truUi 
 thereof, nor indeed any thing certain about them. 
 But he is still more cunning than all these philoso- 
 phers, for he expressed, in two words, all that they 
 laboured to make out with so much ostentation and 
 strife. According to him, the sun was very large in 
 itself, and very little with respect to us, by reason of 
 its remoteness. 
 
 It was after this manner that he left Democritus' 
 opinion concerning the earth. This imagined it to be 
 flat like a bason, and the other to be flat after tho 
 manner of a quoit, but somewhat inclining towards the 
 South Pole, and very mountainous towards that of 
 the North. It was beyond all doubt to recover all 
 the particles of fire that resulted and flew off" at their 
 fall into the Spanish seas, and which, rebounding, re- 
 appeared again at a great distance, behind those 
 mountains, towards the east, according to the report 
 
 D
 
 6 THE LIFE OF EPICURUS. 
 
 of all the mariners of those times ; or rather it was to 
 avoid all the tiuiiings and shiftings of the philoso- 
 phers, that he seemed to back the relation of thos© 
 sailors ; for, as to himself, he was well enough satis- 
 fied with his own : it may be so. 
 
 Be it as it will, he did not blindly follow the dic- 
 tates of any-body in physical matters : and, looking 
 upon all the questions of this science as trifling things, 
 and the work of the mind of man, and only with re- 
 lation to natural happiness, he would have us con- 
 sider it, simply, as a proper occupation for us, and as 
 a means to free us from the hopes and fears that tor- 
 ment us. It was a pleasure to hear him, as he was 
 well versed in the opinions of the philosophers, and 
 had a great and noble mind, a fine turn, and happy 
 expression ; and that all this vjas displayed in one of 
 the most delightful gardens of the world, amidst a 
 thousand flowers, that perfumed his auditory: his 
 hearers were in a manner enchanted in so pleasant 
 a place ; and it was impossible to leave it w ithout 
 being Epicurus' friend, and believing what he said. 
 
 However, it was without abusing his mind, that he 
 triumphed in these assemblies. There never was any 
 man less dogmatical than he ; it was always, — it seems- 
 to me, — it may be so, — it is probable. There was no 
 haughty imperious air in this man ; he never spoke 
 any thing in a magisterial way ; and his actions Avere 
 always accompanied with gentleness and moderation. 
 This extraordinary behaviour was very engaging ; all 
 Athens rung of it, insomuch that crowds of people re- 
 sorted to him with pleasure ; and in a few days Epi- 
 . 2
 
 THE LIFE OF EPICURUS. 7 
 
 ciirus had more disciples than any other philosopher 
 of his time. 
 
 This displeased those philosophers, but particularly 
 the Stoics ; and, because Diotimus was the most pro- 
 per person for so bold an undertaking, he was pitched 
 upon to write against Epicurus : a great many of his 
 satirical letters were scattered all over Greece ; no- 
 thing was to be heard in all the porches of Athens 
 but infamous reports concerning Epicurus : one while, 
 that he had had to do with Leontium, or Themiste ; 
 another time, he had passed the night either in drink- 
 ing or gaming, or roving up and down the streets ; 
 in fine, this day they charged him with one crime, 
 the next with another. To all which, Epicurus 
 remained silent; he considered that our reputation 
 does not absolutely depend on ourselves ; and, there^ 
 fore, if we injuriously suffer in it, through the malice 
 of others, it ought not to disturb us : the testimony of 
 a ffood conscience is w^orth a thousand witnesses ; and 
 he thought he was happy enough, that he had nothing 
 to reproach himself with ; and, as calumny sooner or 
 later wears oiT, he judged he had nothing to do but 
 to continue his virtuous practices, to undeceive the 
 world. The finest revenge, in his opinion, was to shght 
 the injuries he was loaded witli through envy, and 
 leave it to posterity (who w^ould not be biassed by 
 the factions of his time) to do his memory justice, and 
 discover the malignity of his enemies. 
 
 As to Diotimus, he was so far from being angry 
 with him, that he rather pitied him, and left him to his 
 destiny, that had only given him folly for his portion. 
 He would frequently say, that his w ritings were mpr^ 
 
 d2
 
 S THE LIFE OF EPICURUS. 
 
 divertin«- to him than any of Aristophanes' comedies, 
 and that he should be unwilling to cease being the 
 (subject of his fooleries. 
 
 \Vlien the Stoics perceived that nothing M^as able 
 to shake his constancy, and that spite could not dis- 
 turb him in his duty, they bethought themselves of 
 crying down his doctrine as much as lay in their 
 power. Immediately Epicurus was represented an 
 impious profligate wretch, that deserved to be cast 
 headlong from a precipice, as one who taught his dis- 
 ciples notliing but a criminal voluptuousness and 
 idleness. 
 
 This is saying much in a few words ; for, making 
 him pass for impious, was raising against him the 
 whole priesthood of the world; and, branding him 
 ■with voluptuousness, w as alarming all the fathers and 
 mothers of Greece and Italy, as against a general cor- 
 ruptor of youth : and the malicious interpretation they 
 put upon his precept of living privately and retired, 
 was no less than arming against him all the magis- 
 trates, as against a man who prejudiced youth against 
 the taking any part of the government upon them. 
 
 These cruel accusations being capable of doing 
 Epicurus a great deal of harm, he thought itadviseable 
 to show the injustice of them ; for which purpose he 
 published his works : his Hegesianax, or Treatise on 
 Holiness and Piety, — and his Charidemus, or concern- 
 ing the Nature of the Gods, — were esteemed by 
 Cicero (who had perused them) to be so perfect in 
 their kinds, that thepontiffs Corn ncanus and Scsevola 
 could not have written better ; and, without all doubt, 
 it was a mortification to him, tliat some of his friends
 
 THE LIFE OF EPICURUS. 9 
 
 were not the authors of these excellent works. As 
 there are only some fragments left of these books 
 among the works of the ancients, I shall take notice 
 of what I have learnt from them concerning them. 
 
 It is most certain, that Epicurus professed the belief 
 of a Phirality of Gods : he was daily in the temples ; 
 he frequently offered sacrifices, and was very conver- 
 sant with the priests. In that quarter of the town 
 which he inhabited, (which was the Old Town,) there 
 was a Venus, done by x\lcamenus, which, by I know 
 not what accident, was not so much in vogue as it 
 deserved : he by his devotion and piety set it in esteem ; 
 and, in a Httle time, made it as famous as the Venus 
 Urania of Phidias. 
 
 I shall not take notice of his founding a chapel at 
 Samos, in the temple of Juno ; nor of the particular 
 veneration he paid to iVpolIo Epicurius ; but I must 
 not omit, (as an indisputable token of his piety,) that, 
 being hated and envied at Athens by the generality of 
 philosophers, he had not escaped being banished from 
 the town, as Aristotle was; or swallowing the bitter 
 potion, like Socrates, if his enemies could have had 
 sufficient hold of him on the score of religion. 
 
 Another invincible proof of his piety is, that none 
 of the Gentiles ever adored the gods with the same 
 purity and sincerity he did. Most commonly their 
 prayers were selfish ; they either implored the blessing 
 of some additional good, or the avoiding some im- 
 pending evil ; nay, some of them were so irreverent in 
 their petitions, that the more modest and religious 
 were for having the gods prayed to after a public 
 manner, and with an audible voice, to avoid the in-
 
 10 THE LIFE OF EPICURUS. 
 
 fam\ of those who sliould beg impertinencies. But, 
 as for Epicurus, he approached the gods neither 
 through avariciousness nor fear ; it Was always with 
 a fiHal duty, and out of an awful respect to their power 
 and majesty, and with a regard to the excellency of 
 their nature. Deum Colebat, (says Seneca,) nulla 
 spe, nullo pretio indnctiis, seel propter majestatem ejus 
 eximiam, siiprenamque, naturam. It was to thank 
 them for some particular discovery that day, for some 
 new attainments, for being given to understand that 
 his friends were in good healtli, or on the score of the 
 public welfare and peace, i&c. ; but most commonly 
 it was to thank them that he had a trusty and true 
 friend, — that he was prepared for calamities and 
 crosses. 
 
 He was a very assiduous frequenter of the temples ; 
 insomuch tliat Diodes (who had a contrary opinion of 
 him), perceiving him there, could not forbear breaking 
 into this exclamation : AVhat a solemnity is here ! 
 What a noble spectacle do I behold ! Epicurus in a 
 temple ! all my suspicions vanish, piety resumes its 
 place, and Jupiter never appears so great as when 
 Epicurus is on his knees. 
 
 I must, at the same time, own, that he contributed a 
 little to his calumnies, by his notions concerning Pro- 
 vidence. He believed the gods led a peaceable, quiet, 
 undisturbed, life, (in their intramundane spaces ;) 
 in the full fruition of a profound security ; and, every 
 way enjoying a perfect ease, had no other employment 
 than the contemplation of themselves and their bliss- 
 ful state ; and, thus wrapt up in their own happiness, 
 and filled with their proper excellency, they would not
 
 THE LIFE OF EPICURUS. 11 
 
 concern themselves with the government of the world, 
 but left it entirely to take its chance. 
 
 But Epicurus thought thus only with reference to 
 the revolution of the seasons, generations, and cor- 
 ruptions, and other physical matters. He imagined 
 the world was vigorous and strong enough to support 
 and maintain itself in the state it was in. He believed 
 that every thing had its peculiar functions, and that 
 after so perfect and easy a manner, that the birds, for 
 example, could fly up and down in the air, and the 
 fish swim to and fro in the water ; and each in their 
 respective element seek their proper food, &c. without 
 any necessity of a Divine Providence to guide and 
 direct these motions. But, as for what related to the 
 morals, he thought the gods made that their care, as 
 it appears by these divine words : — It is a very hard 
 and difficult thing for him, who by his actions vio- 
 lates and injures human society, to pass his days 
 quietly and easily ; for, if it was possible for him to 
 deceive the gods, (which it is not even in thought,) 
 and although he might impose upon men, yet he must 
 needs know that this cannot last always. A surprise, 
 a dream, a fit of sickness, shall untie a man's tongue, 
 and make him discover the sins he has so industriously 
 concealed. In fine, he that transgresses and commits 
 a crime is never at quiet, but always restless and 
 uneasy, and in perpetual expectation of the punish- 
 ment he has deserved. 
 
 Lucretius expresses this thought very well ; so does 
 Petionius and Lucian. Every body knows they wei^e 
 all three Epicureans. Lucretius has it tlius^
 
 ! 
 
 12 THE LIFE OF EPICURUS. 
 
 Nee facile est placidam, & pacatam degere vitam. 
 Qui violat factis, comiuunia /'cetlera pacis ; 
 Et si fallit c'tiiin divuni genus, humaiiuinque ; 
 Perpetuo lanien id fore clam, diffidere debet; 
 Quippe ubi se niulti, per somnia ssepe loqiientes, 
 Aut raorbo delirantes, procreare feruntur ; 
 Et celata tliu in medium peccata dedisse. 
 
 Thus Englished, by Mr. Creech :— 
 
 Nor can those men expect to live at ease 
 Who violate the common bonds of peace; 
 Tho' now they lie conceal'd from men and God, 
 They still must fear 'twill sometimes come abroad; 
 Since some diseas'd, and some by night, betray 
 The wicked actions they have done by day, 
 Tho' hid in night ; scarce hell so deep as they. 
 
 Pelronius. Malt est extra legem viventibus ; quidqiiid, 
 Meniere semper expectant. 
 
 The vicious never pass their time but ill^ 
 Always expecting what will follow still. 
 
 How odd soever this opinion may appear, it has, 
 notwithstanding, been received by some of our pre- 
 decessors. A famous author has pretended, that 
 God's providence concerned itself with nothing but 
 what related either to morality or divinity. As for 
 the respective members of the universe, he thinks 
 they may be considered as a great and magnificent 
 piece of clock-work, that God had framed for many 
 ages, and which of itself would last for the intended 
 time without being out of order, by reason of the 
 skilfulness of the Workman, and the goodness of tho 
 work. 
 
 As to his opinion concerning pleasux'e, tliere is
 
 THE LIFE OF EPICURUS. 13 
 
 hardly such an instance of injustice being done to 
 any man, his works have been falsified, corrupted, 
 and misconstrued ; and, although, from time to time, 
 one or other has justified Epicurus, tlie Stoics, who 
 were always tlie most prevalent with the people by 
 tlieir hvpocrisy, always found some means or other to 
 frustrate tiiose vindications. 
 
 Epicurus' notion, in reference to pleasure, was 
 this : he believed that, to be happy, as far as our mor- 
 tal condition, and the frailty of our nature, would per- 
 mit, we should enjoy a perfect tranquillity of mind, 
 and an indolency as to the body. For, as we are 
 constantly exposed to the revolution of the seasons, 
 to the intemperance of the air, to business, and the 
 fatigues of life, &c. it is a great thing not to be dis- 
 tempered, without aspiring to a perfect health. It 
 was thus he expressed himself, to show the difference 
 betwixt his opinion and that of the Cyreneans. 
 
 The Cyreneans placed the sovereign good, or 
 pleasure, in motion ; Epicurus, in rest and quiet ; 
 the Cyreneans, in the body; Epicurus, chiefly in the 
 soul ; the Cyreneans, in the present, past, and future ; 
 the Cyreneans esteemed the j>ains of the body to be 
 insupportable ; whereas Epicurus looked upon those 
 of the mind alone to be capable of tormenting us, at all 
 times and in all places. 
 
 Now, if we rightly consider after what manner 
 Epicurus lived, there is not the least ground to think 
 him a man of pleasure and diversion : most commonly 
 he lived upon bread and water ; and, when he had a 
 mind to indulge himself a little more than ordinary, 
 be required no more than a little Cytharean cheese,
 
 l4 THE tifFE OF EPtCtTktTS." 
 
 and a quarter of a pint of wine. He had contmcted 
 such an habitual temperance, that less than a penny 
 a-day defrayed his expenses: .and, although several of 
 his followers imitated him very zealously, yet none 
 came up so near to his sobriety as Metrodorus, who, 
 notwithstanding, spent a penny a day. One of his 
 enemies speaks thus of him : It is with pleasure I make 
 mention of Epicurus, that they who resort to his 
 habitation, as to a paradise of pleasure, may know, 
 that, in what part soever they come, there they must 
 IrN^e and behave themselves soberly and modestly. If 
 they repair to his delightful garden, and propose to 
 themselves there all sorts of pleasure, by reason of 
 these words, that are written over the gate — Passenger, 
 it is here thou wilt find good entertainment ; it is here 
 that pleasure is esteemed the sovereign good; the 
 master is always ready to receive thee courteously; 
 but take notice of one thing, — thou must expect only a 
 piece of cake, and thy fill of water. Here himger is 
 not provoked, but satisfied; thirst is not excited, 
 but quenched; and that Mith what costs little ol* 
 nothing. Is this all? Yes, and this is the pleasure 
 that Epicurus was charmed with: but let us hear 
 what he says liimself t — Tlianks be to blessed Nature 
 for having so contrived it, that those things that are 
 really necessary are easy procurable ; whereas, those' 
 that are not necessary are hard to be found. Wilt thou, 
 support life? have bread and water. Wilt thou fare 
 nicely? be hungry; fbt it would be in vain to ransack 
 the market for scarce and costly dishes, either of flesh 
 or fish ; and, whatsoever luxury and a nice palate might 
 propose, h shall be so far from satisfying, that it shall'
 
 THE LIFE OF EPJCUErS- 45 
 
 ra-ther provoke an appetite ; whereas, at the same time, 
 a small matter shall suffice, if you only regard your 
 present want. Is it not plain, that nature has no other 
 drift than to appease hunger and thirst? It does not 
 require an expensive food in any kind, but only what 
 is sufficient. As for myself, a slice of cake and a 
 draught of spring- water make me vie with Jupiter 
 himself, with his nectar and ambrosia, and not in 
 the least envy him. For these twenty years past, less 
 ihan a penny a-day has kept me. Nay, sometimes, I 
 have even lessened that, and do not allow myself what 
 I could dispense with, in order to find out whether 
 any thing be wanting to ray pleasure. I have from 
 thence observed, that a small matter was sufficient for 
 nature, that would easily accustom itself to it. In 
 fine, if it be the character of the gods to want nothing, 
 it is the character of a wise man to want very little. 
 
 This made him say of Pithocles, who had lately 
 inherited large possessions, and yet thirsted after 
 others. If you have a mind to make Pithocles rich, you 
 must not add to his wealth, but confine and lessen liis 
 wishes. This made him say again to those who 
 di'eaded poverty : If you will live according to nature, 
 you need never fear being poor ; and, if you must live 
 according to opinion, you will never be rich; for 
 nature requires but little, whereas the greatest affiu^ 
 ^nce is not enough for opinion. 
 
 But, if Epicurus was temperate, he was not less 
 chaste ; Chrysippus, as much his enemy as he was, yet 
 bore him this testimony: It is true, he said, it was through 
 insensibility, and that certainly he was impotent ] 
 
 ^iy.j-^^|tsii.ul ii OiiO ;j_ 
 
 ^%
 
 16 THE LrrE of EPrctiRtrs. 
 
 I cannot tell whether what he said was from inspect 
 tion, or whether the stone which had tormented 
 Epicurus almost during the whole course of his life, 
 had not afforded him leisure to be amorous. But this is 
 most certain, that no man had ever a meaner opinion 
 of love than he: Love, said he, never benefitted any 
 one ; nay, it is much if it did no harm. In his opinion, 
 it was a sort of fever, destructive to the body ; in fine, 
 a short epilepsy. He looked upon it as a shortener of 
 the days of the most vigorous; and judged that the 
 gout, the weakness of the eyes, the trembling of the 
 nerves, were all caused by the commerce with women ; 
 and that they who desired to live in health, or at least 
 be free ft'om infirmity and pain, ought to practise this 
 precept, that he had frequently in his mouth,-r^tt) eat 
 moderately, use much exercise, and to have nothing 
 to do with women. 
 
 Now, although he allowed his Wise-man to marry 
 upon certain considerations, yet he always was against 
 the illegal use of women. There was nothing he had 
 more in abomination than those common prostitutes, 
 who may be properly styled, the sinks of luxury and 
 lasciviousness, and who may he said to be carried 
 away with the torrent of their passion. There are 
 (notwithstanding the depredation of time,) sufficient 
 testimonials in his waitings of his aversion to such 
 practices, and the severity with which he forbade all bis 
 fbllowers entertaining any commerce with persons of 
 that character- but, above all, the living after the 
 fiaanner of the Oynies. All w]\ieh sufflciently shews 
 his chastity and modesty. 
 
 But, what could be the cause of any one's suspecting^
 
 THE LIFE OP EP1CURl?». IT 
 
 Epicurus of incontineneyl I suppose here ft lies: 
 Theano had assisted pubhcly at the lectures of Pytha- 
 goras at Samos, and Lastheuia of Mantinea, and 
 Axiothea of Phliasa, had heard Ptato, from whence 
 Theinista, who was a woman of sense, and had a 
 mind to have more, thought she might without reflec- 
 tion go to Epicurus' garden : no notice was taken of 
 it at first ; but, as soon as Metrodorus, Epicurus's 
 disciple and familiar friend, had taken the beautiful 
 Leontium for his concubine, then Diotimus, Possi- 
 donius, and Sosi<)n, began to inveigh against these 
 women, and load Epicurus with calumnies, and black- 
 ened his reputation as much as lay in their power, 
 giving a full loose to their inveterate malice against him. 
 
 But the case is plain, Epicurus had suffered Metro- 
 dorus to take Leontium for a concubine, because his 
 constitution was such, that he could not live without 
 ^ woman ; lx)th the Athenian laws, and civil laws 
 allowing that sort of conversation with women ; and it 
 seems very hard that these three zealous Stoics should 
 wink at Aristotle's having Herpyllis ; and yet, on such 
 small grounds, lash out so vehemently against Epicu- 
 rus, since he was guilty of no more than barely tole- 
 rating, in his friend, what he did not approve of in 
 himself 
 
 There were not wanting persons to vindicate Ep)i- 
 eurus even in his life-time, as Diodes, Hermacus, 
 &c. Nay, some of his enem,ies were SlO just as to, do 
 it, and, among the rest, Arcesilas ; who, being asked 
 why sevePE^l pame over from the other philosophers to 
 Epicurus, when at the same time none of Epicurus' 
 sect vvePoobsei;^vedtagoover to auy other] ke smsvyered,
 
 1^ THE LIFE OF EPICURUS. 
 
 that It was for this reason, that it was an easy 
 thing- to make an eunuch of a man, but it was inipos* 
 sible to make a man of an eunuch. St. Gregory 
 Nazianzen says thus of him, 
 
 Ipsam voluplatem putavit praennum, 
 Epicurus extare omnibus laboribus, 
 Mortaliumque ; hue lendere bona omnia ; 
 Ac ne ob voluptatem improbam 
 Quis credeiet, moderatus et castus fuit. 
 Dum vixit, iile, dogma raoribus probans. 
 
 '_. But, let us consider Epicurus' precept — Xoc^b Sjwo-a?, 
 live obscurely ; and examine whether it be so perni- 
 cious as it is represented. 
 
 It is most certain that this maxim is none of Epicu- 
 rus' but his brother's, Neocles, who took a particular 
 delight in a private obscure way of living. It is true, 
 Epicurus advises not to meddle with the government of 
 the republic, unless moved thereto by some pressing 
 cause : but then we must reflect he was formino; his 
 Wise-man, whose chief employment was to be that of 
 contemplation ; for, as to those who are naturally 
 ambitious and covetous of glory and honour, it is 
 none of their business to live concealed ; on the contrary, 
 he advises them to betake themselves to an active 
 life, by some function or office in the government^ 
 because they would lose their time in a contempla- 
 tive life; for which reason, Epicurus would havp 
 every man examine himself by studying his inclina- 
 tions, and then follow that course of life that is mosjt 
 agreeable to them. The good of every person con^ 
 sists in what he delights in. 
 i.>-Do not we find there have been Epicureans botb
 
 T&E LIFE OF EPICU??tJS." f§ 
 
 of the sword and gown ? Have there not been many 
 of them in the senate, and in the army? Not to men- 
 tion Vellejus, Torquatus, and Trebatius ; was there 
 not a Pomponius Atticus, that wise and virtuous 
 Roman, whom Cicero esteemed beyond all his other 
 friends, and who seemed to be sent into the w orld 
 only to do it good, and to teach it how to live? It is 
 but reading his life by Cornelius Nepos, to have a 
 perfect idea of an honest and virtuous man ; and of 
 the manner in which the true followers of Epicurus led 
 their lives. Do not we find in the same Rome, 
 Thorius, Memmius, L. Varus, and several other 
 men of the sword ; and, in fine, that C. Cassius, who 
 had infallibly defeated Augustus, had it not been for 
 that unlucky Stoic, Brutus, who would needs com-i 
 mand the right wing, at the Philippic action 1 
 
 From all which, it is plain that Epicurus' doctrine 
 contained nothing prejudicial to the commonwealth ; 
 and it is as plain that he did not deserve to be cen- 
 sured for the precept of living privately. 
 
 However, I shall say, in the behalf of Neocles, that, 
 when he first proposed it, he had no other Adew than 
 the welfare of the private people of Athens ; and, 
 those who, like himself, had a mind to lead a retired 
 atid quiet life : for, in short, it is neither inscriptions, 
 rior statues, nor triumphal arches; nay, not even the 
 triumphs themselves, that are capable of making a 
 riian happy. Besides, how many are there who have 
 risally deserved them, and yet have not had them? 
 And, on the other side, how many have had those 
 distinguishing marks of honour, and yet have not 
 deserved theiii? Wliat pains, what tHcks, what
 
 20 THE LIFE OF EPICUHUS. 
 
 inea«iie«ses, have not been used with these people to 
 obtain them ? Tlie man who has had three hundred 
 statues erected to him, has been unhappy enough to 
 see them alJ thrown down before his death. A small 
 matter puts you in tlie people's favour, and as small a 
 matter puts you out. If you are more virtuous and 
 better qualified tlian the rest of the republic, you are 
 presently doomed to banishment. If you get clear of 
 that, you are accused straight of some other crime. 
 It is tlierefore, says he, much better to lead an obscure 
 and private life, from whence, as from a place of 
 safety, we may behold the dangers that others run, 
 witliout being concerned therein, — what mischief 
 they incur, by their mistake in what constitutes hap- 
 piness, tlirough their chimerical notions. 
 
 But it is a man's business to live to himself, and 
 possess himself; since he is most certain tliat he 
 must die for himself. 
 
 Uni vive tibi, nam inoriere tibi. 
 
 But, to return to Epicurus, — he was not only a man 
 of counsel and merit, but also a trusty friend, and an 
 excellent citizen. When Demetrius besieged Athens^ 
 and most of the town Mere starved to that deoree 
 that a father and son fought for a dead rat,^^he was 
 so bountiful as to support all his family and disciples ; 
 it is true, the expense was not great, for he distributed 
 to each person so many beans each day : however^ 
 this was more than he was obliged to do; and he 
 thereby gave them to understand how moderately he 
 would have them live at all times. 
 
 This made him beloved generally throughout all 
 
 2
 
 THE LIFE OF EPICURUS. 21 
 
 Greece, and particularly by his followers, who, in 
 Pliny's time, were wont to meet every twentieth day 
 of the month, in order to celebrate the commemora- 
 tion of this great man. 
 
 There was not one of them that had not his picture 
 by him, or else engraved on some piece or other, or in 
 a ring-. There were very few among them but had 
 some of his works by heart ; nay, there was a sort of 
 emulation amongst them who should know most. 
 One of them, named Scyi'on, could recite a great part 
 of them, though Epicurus had written vastly. It is 
 said, he wrote three hundred volumes, and, what is 
 very particular, without quoting any author. How- 
 ever, it is not to be wondered at, that his disciples 
 should vie one with another in the learning of them 
 by heart. There could be nothing more polite, no- 
 thing more natural, nor more judicious ; in fine, they 
 were of a consummate perfection in their respective 
 kinds. One may form a judgment of them by the 
 three small epitomes that are yet extant. Cicero says, 
 they sold mightily in his time, and were held in great 
 esteem. 
 
 I took notice of his being a good citizen, which 
 must be allowed by every one, since he would never 
 abandon his country ; although, by reason of the fi-e- 
 quent changes and revolutions that happened in it, 
 Athens suffered very much ; so that several persons of 
 distinction and merit removed themselves to other 
 towns. He endured without complaining the insa- 
 tiable avarice of Demetrius Phalereus, and patiently 
 bore with all Lachares' cruelties, and the piide of 
 King Demetrius. He constantly offered up his pray- 
 
 F
 
 ^2 THE LIFE OF EPICURUS. 
 
 ers for the pro.^peiity of the republic, and the restora- 
 tion of the ancient government ; yet he acquiesced in 
 the present times, and the governors appointed to it 
 by Providence. When these magistrates were vexa- 
 tious and cruel, -lie armed himself with patience and 
 fortitude ; when their behaviour was such as it ouffht 
 to be, it caused in him both gratitude and love. In 
 fine, he was resolved to die where his forefathers had 
 lived and died ; and accordino-lv he did , at the ao;e of 
 threescore and twelve years, of a retention of urine, 
 having been furiously tormented with the stone. 
 
 It is impossible to die with greater constancy, or, 
 rather, joy. He had the satisfaction to have lived, 
 and to finish his course, according to his mind^ 
 leaving his school in a flourishing condition ; and, 
 being himself in the greatest esteem both in Greece 
 and Italy, in which countries he had a great many 
 statues erecied to him. He had ser\ed his country 
 and his friends, and reflected with pleasure on the state 
 of rest he was going to, in which he was to be freed 
 from those constant combats he had had with ignorance 
 and superstition. Then, running over in his mind 
 what had been most remarkable in his life, and the 
 reflections posterity would make thereon, he had the 
 satisfaction, on one side, to find nothing but what was 
 praise-worthy in the past, and nothing but would be 
 glorious to him for the future. He, therefore, cheer- 
 fiilly embraced death, as what would certainly sup- 
 press envy, and render him immortal. 
 
 Epicurus was not mistaken in his account, for his 
 doctrine was taught after his death with more zeal 
 than during his life.
 
 THE LIFE OF EPICURUS. 25 
 
 It had schools in most of the eminent towns of the 
 Roman empire : and, notwithstanding, upon the ruin 
 of the empire, it underwent the same fate that at- 
 tended all the other philosophies, viz. ill usage ; never- 
 theless, it has ever had professors, either public 
 or private, — and, since the learned and virtuous 
 Gassendus has expounded it, it is now more iij 
 esteem than ever. 
 
 f2
 
 THE 
 
 MORALS OF EPICURUS; 
 
 COMMENTS AND REFLECTIONS. 
 
 TRANSLATED FROM THE GREEK, BY JOHN DIGBY, ESQ. 
 
 INTRODUCTION. 
 
 We shall often have occasion to make mention of 
 the wise man in this treatise, and, as the term is 
 variously accounted for by the philosophers, it is 
 requisite we should explain the notion and idea they 
 had of it. 
 
 The wise man, then, is he who adheres to virtue, 
 and does nothing but by the direction of prudence, 
 and consequently never acts any thing but what is 
 praise-worthy and fit to be admired : it is the most 
 perfect pattern of the actions of our life ; but the phi- 
 losophers have represented him in a different manner, 
 according to the particular genius of their respective 
 sects. 
 
 Aristotle* will have him to be a man that has 
 penetrated into every thing within the compass of our 
 knowledge ; that has discovered what was unknown 
 
 * Meta.
 
 THE 3I0RALS OF EPICURUS. 25 
 
 to otlier men ; who is immovably fixed, as to his opi- 
 nion, from the certainty thereof; who knows best how 
 to teach the truth of his speculations ; and who, in 
 fine, prefers the knowledge of himself, of regulating 
 his life and governing his passions, to that which has 
 only in view the utility and benefit of others. 
 
 The mind of the wise man (says Isocrates) ought 
 to be in that serene, quiet, and calm, state, that no- 
 thing should be able to ruffle or disturb ; he must re- 
 concile himself to the times, be just in his actions, 
 and honest in his conversation ; he must bear with the 
 vexatious humors of those he frequents, must subju- 
 gate his passions ; not be dejected in adversity, nor be 
 in the least puffed up when fortune smiles. He ought 
 to possess all these qualifications so perfectly as to 
 reduce them into practice ; without which, he is un- 
 worthy the title of a wise man. 
 
 This extraordinary man (according to Cicero*) is, 
 he who knows how to keep his mind in a just mo- 
 deration, and such an unshakeable firmness, as shall 
 cause a profound tranquillity ; who never gives way 
 to melancholy or fear ; who prescribes bounds to his 
 desires, and who beholds all that happens to mankind, 
 whether vexatious or delightful, with so indifferent 
 an eye as to be neither too much disturbed or pleased 
 thereat. What can be supposed to appear extraor- 
 dinary to him, who has so frequently meditated on the 
 vast immensity of the universe, and that of eternity? 
 Can he meet with one thing in his studies, or in 
 the short space of time he lives, that can surprise him, 
 
 * Lib, iv. Susc. quasst.
 
 26. THE MORALS OF EPICURUS, 
 
 \vhoscmincl is so continually applied, that he foresees/ 
 expects, and receives without astonishment, whatever 
 befalls him? to whom nothing is ever new, and who 
 passes over his life without fright or disquiet, in any 
 place the fickle wantonness of fortune shall appoint 
 him. 
 
 Horace* (after having told us, that the wise man 
 ought to be easy in mind, even at the approach of 
 death) represents him a man luialtcrable in his reso- 
 lutions, — determined never to follow the depraved 
 sentiments of the vulgar, and above being scared 
 by the threats of the great ; and so much master of 
 himself, that, if the universe was to undergo its last 
 dissolution, he would, without fear, behold himself 
 involved in its ruins. 
 
 " The truly wise man (says Petrarchai^) never boasts 
 of what he knows, because it is diametrically oppo- 
 site to virtue, which he ought strictly to adhere to; 
 for, he must be wise indeed, and not be satisfied with 
 the reputation and character of being so, but really 
 be so. He must reflect on the vast extent of nature, 
 must examine himself strictly, and behold with grief 
 the many excellencies which are wanting to an absolute 
 and consummate perfection in his attainments, with 
 reference to his mind and morals. 
 
 " It is not enough (continues the said author) to 
 speak with applause on all the sciences; it is much 
 more excellent to recollect ourselves, and banish all 
 fear, to be more exact in our conduct, and to endea- 
 vour to attain an interior w isdom ; because, that dis- 
 
 * Lib. iii. Ode 3. t Dial. "•
 
 WITH COMMENTS AND KEFLECTIONS. 27 
 
 sipates at once the false opinions which had seized 
 our mind, and disperses that insolent temerity that 
 prompts us on to the undertaking of things full of 
 inevitable danger, and makes us wish never to be ne- 
 cessitated to give an experiment of our wisdom, lest 
 our weakness should be discovered, and our vanity 
 appear ridiculous." 
 
 Lipsius* defines the wise man thus : " He is a man 
 (says he) who runs a full career in the fruitful plains 
 of virtue, who gives himself a full scope in knowledge, 
 .who informs himself of the true spring from whence 
 fear proceeds, and fortifies himself against all the as- 
 saults of the passions. 
 
 '' Did you ever licar (continues he) the haughty 
 motto of some kings of this age" without fear or hope ? 
 It is the true character of this mighty man ; and, he 
 who can establish himself in this happy state, is above 
 all crowned heads : he is in a perfect freedom, for- 
 tune can have no hold of him, his constitution can 
 never sway his reason ; he is subject to God alone. 
 
 The Stoics (who are no less vain than the Phari- 
 sees amono; the Jews) have been extravagant in the 
 description of their Wise-man : the qualifications 
 they have bestowed upon him have even drained their 
 imaginations ; the state they place him in was the 
 w ork of their pride and vanity, and his attributes are 
 so many witnesses of their folly. 
 
 This man, who had his existence only in their 
 brains, is presumptuous enough to di.spute excellency 
 even with the Deity itself He would persuade 
 
 * De Cons. lib. i. 63.
 
 28 THE MORALS OF EPICURUS, 
 
 people, that, in the vilest slavery, he is the only man 
 that bears the sceptre ; that he alone rules the com- 
 monwealth ; that he is the only orator, poet, good 
 citizen, and true friend : he dares to maintain, that, 
 notwithstanding all the deformities of body, he is the 
 only beautiful person ; that, in the greatest distress, 
 he is the only rich man ; and, though extracted from 
 the dregs of the people, he is the only noble born. 
 
 He knew all that the rest of mankind was ignorant 
 of; was incapable of lying, fixed in his opinion, out 
 of the insult of the passions, and without the least 
 dread of torments ; in short, always of an even tem- 
 per, and ever infallible. 
 
 Nevertheless, as these philosophers reflected that 
 the natural disposition of man caused in him such 
 motions as, if very violent and strong, were styled 
 passions, and were hard to overcome ; and that these 
 sallies, proceeding from temper and constitution, were 
 inseparable from life ; they bethought themselves, by 
 certain fallacious reasonings, to assign to their Wise- 
 man, though a partaker of all the signs of human 
 frailty, such a habit of virtue as should distinguish 
 him from all the rest of mankind. 
 
 They were so bold as to maintain, that, notwith- 
 standing, whoever was addicted to the pleasures of 
 love, to luxury, debauchery, and anger, were guilty : 
 yet the wise Stoic, although passionately amorous, in 
 the highest transports of anger, and amidst the 
 greatest merriments and feasting, was still innocent, 
 ^vithout being subject to the tyranny of the passions. 
 Can there be any thing more ridiculous than this way 
 of reasoning ? Was there ever a sect \>'here good
 
 WITH COMMENTS AND REFLECTIONS. 29 
 
 sense presided less? It has, notwithstanding, af- 
 forded great men ; but, if it gained a reputation 
 among the Greeks and Romans by its formal exterior, 
 it was because those nations were well enough pleased 
 with the superficial part, provided it kept the people 
 attentive to the outward appearance of a false virtue, 
 and at the same time left to succeeding ages the ad- 
 mi rat on of a miracle that had never been. 
 
 Seneca,* who is always boasting of the excellency 
 of his Wise-man, docs not scruple to own that all the 
 labour that way has been mispent ; and that it is 
 without any prospect of success that we seek after this 
 extraordinary man, he deserving only to be esteemed 
 so who is least vicious. 
 
 For, to come to the point, Cato, whom he seems 
 to look upon as a perfect pattern in that kind, falls 
 short of this wonderful character ; for truth, that 
 discovers in us the weakness of our composition, 
 triumphs there in spite of all his haughty expressions. 
 " Since the affairs of human kind," says this master- 
 piece of wisdom, " are totally despaired of, let us 
 secure Cato. This great man," continues Seneca, 
 " stabbed himself mortally ; and, his chirurgeons 
 having dressed his wounds, he found his strength 
 decay by the great loss of blood, yet remained still 
 so incensed against Ctesar, that, as if enraged against 
 himself, he laid violent hands upon his w^ounds, and 
 forced his soul to take its flight, in contempt of all his 
 power." 
 
 Would not any body imagine, w hen Seneca speaks 
 
 * De Tr. vid. c. 7. 
 G
 
 30 THE MORALS OF EPICURUS^, 
 
 after this manner, that all was lost by the death of 
 Cato, and tliat he was to have no less a tomb than 
 the ruins of the universe? 
 
 Let us examine this eulogium. This Roman cer- 
 tainly was not such as the Stoics represent their Wise- 
 pian. Wliat signified it to the rest of mankind whe- 
 ther Caesar orPompey remained master of the world? 
 The separate interest of some. particular persons were 
 only concerned in those gTeat commotions ; and, if 
 Cato's party had conquered, his vanity might have 
 led him to believe that all nations were going to 
 enjoy a profound tranquillity ; and that soul that hur- 
 ried itself out of this world to shun subjection, would, 
 in all likelihood, have been reconciled to life if it 
 might have ruled. If he faced death without fear, it 
 was because the dread he had of being a spectator of 
 Caesar's triumph seemed to him to have something in 
 it more terrible than death itself ; and that the hatred 
 and envy he bore to this illustrious conqueror pre- 
 sented to the mind of this haughty Stoic something 
 frightful, even in Caesar's known and experienced 
 clemency. 
 
 Can there be any thing more extravagant than 
 Seneca's saying that Cato, having supported and up- 
 held the universe for a long time, he could not survive 
 its ruin ? Wlien at the same time America, vastly 
 more large than the Roman empire, did not so much 
 as know the Romans by name ; and China dreaded 
 nothing from the attempt of their arms. " But man," 
 says Petrarcha, " is apt to rate himself above his 
 condition ; and, as all his wisdom is but folly before 
 God, it is no strange thing it should be accompanied 
 With vanity."
 
 WITH COMMENTS AND REFLECTIONS. 81 
 
 Pride, which had its birth even in heaven itself^ 
 had so possessed this great man's mind, that he 
 «eems to be elated without any caution ; and his end 
 bears a proportion to his temerity : for the truly wise 
 man ought to be endued with humility, and not pre- 
 sume too much oo his own knowledge ; always sub- 
 mitting it to reason, and ever preserving for the great 
 Being of all beings that religious fear and veneration 
 which are the beo-innino; of true wisdom. 
 
 But, as we have run over the several opinions of 
 philosophers concerning the Wise-man, let us peruse 
 what Epicurus and his followers have left us on that 
 head. 
 
 MAXIM I. 
 
 The wise man may be injured sometimes through 
 hatred, envy, or contempt, without disturbing the 
 calm and tranquillity of his mind ; because in all those 
 trials he is supported by the strength of reason. 
 
 REFLECTION. 
 
 The highest degree of wisdom is to possess an un- 
 disturbed and peaceable mind, which is certainly the 
 effect of reflection on ourselves, and a sufficient know- 
 ledge in nature : the one, eradicates our passions ; and 
 the other, having dissipated the fears that disquiet 
 us, perfects and consummates our happiness. Wlien 
 we are once thus prepared, what can in the least 
 molest or be uneasy to us? For the truly wise man 
 beholds, as it were from a fortress, all the spite and 
 
 «2
 
 82 THE MORALS OF EPICURUS, 
 
 malice of men, and looks upon it as the effect of their 
 temper and constitution, or ill-nature; and is pleased 
 to lind himself above their power by the force of his 
 reason, and the virtuous habit he has contracted. 
 ^' He is invulnerable," says Seneca : " not that he is 
 secure from outrageous usage, but by reason they 
 cannot alter his mind." 
 
 Thus we find Thraseus, whose virtue was his 
 crime, not in the least alarmed at Nero's anger. 
 Phocion was drawn in a cart through the high street 
 of Athens to the amphitheatre, there to receive sen- 
 tence of death, w ithout the- least shock to his inward 
 tranquillity; and Themistocles, not being able to 
 persuade Euribiades, the Athenian general, to give 
 battle to Xerxes, the king of Persia ; and that gene- 
 ral, being provoked by his reiterated intreaties not 
 to let slip so favourable an opportunity of conquering, 
 having lifted his cane at him, this famous Grecian 
 serenely bid him strike : so he did, — but to comply 
 with his request. " Man's patience," says Solomon, 
 *' is a testimonial of his wisdom :" it is glorious to 
 be so indifferent to ill usaoe as not to be the least 
 moved thereat. 
 
 MAXIM II. 
 
 The acquisition of wisdoriv is so solid a good in 
 itself, that it can never be lost. 
 
 REFLECTION. 
 
 It is a maxim the Stoics have carried so far, that 
 their pride, or rather their folly, could not strain it
 
 WITH COMMENTS AND REFLECTIONS. 83 
 
 higher. Seneca chose rather to maintain that there 
 were certain honourable vices, than to acknowledge 
 that Cato, who was his idol, had degenerated from 
 the character of a wise man when he became a hard 
 drinker.* 
 
 It had been more for his purpose to have asserted 
 the infallibility of his Wise-man, with the reasons he 
 uses in one of his Epistles. " It is," says this philo- 
 sopher, " an inward sentiment that works so power- 
 fully in us, as to make us naturally adhere to virtue, 
 and fly from vice ; and we ought to apply ourselves, 
 with the utmost diligence and labour, to root out 
 those evil inclinations which are in us, by reason that 
 the acquisition of good ones is a lasting and perma- 
 nent good : for that virtue which wisdom inspires can 
 never be faulty. It is easy," continues he, " to sup- 
 port the truth by the reflection we may make, that the 
 passions that tyrannise most over us are not born 
 with us ; and so, being introduced as strangers, they 
 may be banished to make room for more excellent 
 habits, which reason fixes in us as in their centre." 
 
 As long as Alexander followed the precepts of 
 Aristotle, all that he did was worthy admiration ; the 
 beauty of his sentiments is discoverable in the letter 
 he writes to Darius : " It is needless for you," says 
 he, " to make acknowledgments to me ; for I did not 
 use Sizigambis, and the other princesses, after the 
 generous manner as I did, to gain thanks or praise ; 
 and much less through any doubts or suspicion I had 
 of the events of war, or out of any desire I had to 
 
 * Epi. 50.
 
 3i The morals of epicurus, 
 
 make a peace : my moderation was the effect of trii6 
 honour, and a specimen of the greatness of my sold, 
 which is the chief spring in all my actions." But 
 the minute he stifles these commendable inclinations, 
 and tliat he is deaf to the counsels of wisdom, he 
 ceases to be that conqueror who had been admired 
 by his enemy ; for, his magnanimity and pride hav- 
 ing overcome his moderation, he compels the Am- 
 monian oracle to acknowledge him for the son of 
 Jupiter. And, as Epicurus very well observes, the 
 vain opinions of the mind are so dangerous, that it 
 was necessary this great monarch should be despe- 
 rately wounded to oblige him to own he was not the 
 son of a god. 
 
 Was not Parmenio's answer worthy observation, 
 and ouaht it not to have made him sensible of his 
 error] " I congratulate you, prince," says he, " that 
 your birth has been owned by the oracle ; but I can- 
 not help pitying those who are to live under the sub- 
 jection of a king who is more than man." 
 
 His vanity was offended at this liberty, and af- 
 forded him some satisfaction in the death of the most 
 faithful of his friends. His debauchery made hira 
 forget that he owed his life to Clytus, and made him 
 kill him unworthily for telling him the truth. It car- 
 ried him so far, that he wreaked his revenge on 
 Darius's palace, and caused those illustrious monu- 
 ments of the Persian kings to be burned, after he had 
 given testimonials that he had clemency enough to 
 have pardoned his enemy. To be short, — after he 
 had resigned himself up to the violence of his consti- 
 tution and temper, he became so immoderate in mirth^
 
 WITH COMMENTS AND REFLECTIONS. 35 
 
 and so dejected in grief, that he would have courted 
 death to be rid of his pain, though he had so often 
 insulted it in the field, and had recourse to astrolo- 
 gers to make him easy in his mind in reference to his 
 £nd. 
 
 This was an eifect of human weakness ; distrust 
 intermixed itself whenever he would come to a reso- 
 lution. All ages have afforded us examples of this 
 truth ; and, after the fall of the great and wise Solo- 
 mon, who is that presumptuous mortal that dare 
 flatter himself so far as to think he is endowed with 
 that constancy of mind that no accident whatever 
 can work upon, when all men must allow it to be a 
 supernatural gift? 
 
 Nevertheless, this maxim of Epicurus is admirable. 
 Can any thing create in us a stronger desire to pos- 
 sess a good, than the thought that it is of perpetual 
 duration ? And if it should happen that, after hav- 
 ing attained to this high pitch of perfection, of which 
 this famous Grecian speaks, and that, through frailty, 
 one should fall from the exact practice thereof, the 
 very fall itself would have this advantage with it, by 
 a due repentance, as to make us more sensible of our 
 weakness, and excite us to something still mor* 
 perfect. 
 
 MAXIM III. 
 
 The wise man profanes the excellency of his pro- 
 fession when he abandons truth, and entertains any 
 thing that borders upon the fable ; for, as philosophy
 
 36 THE MORALS OF EPicura's, 
 
 is nothino- else tlian a clue enquiry after truth, fiction 
 proves an obstacle to the success we ought to be 
 blest with from the knowledge of it. 
 
 REFLECTION. - %' 
 
 Epicurus here gives a noble idea of his sentiments: 
 he requires that his wise man.' should be entirely de- 
 voted to 'IVuth, and that, with all the reason imagin- 
 able; since she niaypi-operly be^said to be the most 
 agreeable nourishment of the mind, and, according 
 to Plato, the most essential delight thereof, and which 
 he ever ouo^ht to have in view. 
 
 It is by her means that we reduce oiir speculations 
 into practice, and that we learn to live undisturbedly 
 in the o-reatest confusion of the world : in fine, it is 
 she that, by the knowledge she gives us of things, 
 banishes our passions and all our fears. Since know- 
 ledge is then so useful, is not Epicurus mightily in 
 the right when he requires that fiction should no 
 ways intermingle with it, by reason it obstructs and 
 hinders the true discovery thereof. A lie, however 
 ingenious it may be supposed, ought never to come 
 out of the mouth of a philosopher, who, in Plato's 
 opinion, can never approve of such chimerical no- 
 tions. 
 
 MAXIM IV. 
 
 The wise man is not to be formed out of all dis- 
 positions and constitutions ; nay, every nation does 
 not afford this extraordinary man. 
 2
 
 WITH COMiVIENTS AND REFLECTIONS. ^7 
 
 REFLECTION I. 
 
 It is most certain that many things are requisite to 
 the fonnin<2: a wise man : — lie must have received 
 from nature the necessary dispositions for this state, 
 which seems to raise liim somewhat above his condi- 
 tion ; and these dispositions are so different, that they 
 are rarely found in the same person. 
 
 }ih moderation, his docihty, and his vivacity, 
 ought to have shewn' themselves from his infancy ; 
 he ought naturally to have a clear conception. Is it 
 probable that the knowledge of any thing can charm 
 us very much, if the discovery of it be so very intri- 
 cate and laborious? 
 
 These qualifications would yet be useless, if he 
 were not modest and easy in his conversation, if he 
 were not steady in his sentiments, and were not en- 
 dowed with a happy memory : without this absolutely 
 necessary faculty, how great soever his inclination 
 might be for learning, he would still remain ignorant. 
 It is an excellent temper which must give the finishing 
 stroke to these different thinos : a morose and vexa- 
 tious one foments evil inclinations ; and can any 
 thing keep us at a greater distance from truth, which 
 is the chief aim of the philosopher, than the irregu- 
 larity of his mind and morals? These reasonings, 
 which we have taken from Plato, sufficiently demon- 
 strate the first part of this maxim : let us make some 
 reflections on the second.
 
 40 THE MORALS OF EPICUKUS. 
 
 temples built in his honour ; which the Tartars, who 
 have usurped that vast empite, have preserved to 
 this dav. And Epicurus, who was of the first rank, 
 would have attained the same perfection he arrived 
 to, by means of his natural disposition, in what coun- 
 try or climate soever he had been born. 
 
 REFLECTION IIL 
 
 If I might be permitted, without being thought 
 presumptuous, to add something to the maxim of this 
 illustrious Greek, I should think that, besides the 
 temper of body and climate, the knowledge of the age 
 he lives in might justly be esteemed requisite towards 
 the formation of a wise man. 
 
 The sages of the philosophers have performed such 
 actions heretofore as have been the admiration of 
 mankind, and which in our days would be censured 
 as acts of temerity, if not mere follies. 
 
 Suppose the Stoic's Wise-man .should now (being 
 cloathed only with rags and tatters, and almost a 
 skeleton with hunger and famine,) declare in our 
 public places, that he alone abounds in wealth, that 
 he is the only beautiful person, and that it is his 
 proper right to command and govern, — would he not 
 be a laughing-stock to the whole world ? He would 
 be so far from being looked upon as one of the ancients 
 wise men, that he would be reckoned no better than 
 an arrant fool.
 
 •^'ITH COMMENTS AND REFLECTIONS. 41 
 
 MAXIM V. 
 
 The Wise-man takes care to preserve the inexph- 
 cable blessing of an undisturbed and quiet mind, even 
 amidst the groans and complaints that excess of pain 
 extorts from him. 
 
 REFLECTION. 
 
 Wisdom is nothing else but the knowledge of 
 things ; and this knowledge is the effect of specula- 
 tion and reflection : but our penetration would still be 
 useless, if we had not found out the art of reducinjr 
 our meditations into practice ; insomuch, that the 
 wise man, having discovered the secrets of nature, 
 and having strained his mind so far as to pry into the 
 minutest and most abstruse things, he at last found 
 out the cause of all the misfortunes of mankind, 
 sought for a remedy thereunto, and concluded it con- 
 sisted in the steadiness of his mind. So that, his 
 resolution being unshakeable, by the help of his rea- 
 son, he makes indolency the sum of all the pleasures 
 of life, slighting his vexations, and keeping always 
 entire that tranquillity of mind which constitutes his 
 happiness. By these means, he is ever armed against 
 the most cruel accidents that can befall him, so as never 
 to be surprised ; and, if excess of torment and pain 
 extort any outward expressions from him, his mind, be- 
 ing always prepared, is insensible to the attack. This 
 made Anaxarchus, when the executioners wexQ 
 pounding him in a mortar, bid them take courage, for 
 they were demolishing the prison of his soul. 
 2
 
 40 THE MORALS OF EPICURUS. 
 
 temples built in his honour; which the Tartars, \A'ho 
 have usurped that vast empire, have preserved to 
 this day. And Epicurus, who was of tlie first rank, 
 would have attained the same perfection he arrived 
 to, by means of his natural disposition, in what coun- 
 try or climate soever he had been born. 
 
 REFLECTION III. 
 
 If I might be permitted, without being thought 
 presumptuous, to add something to the maxim of this 
 illustrious Greek, I should think that, besides the 
 temper of body and climate, the knowledge of the age 
 he lives in might justly be esteemed requisite towards 
 the formation of a wise man. 
 
 The sages of the philosophers have performed such 
 actions heretofore as have been the admiration of 
 mankind, and which in our days would be censured 
 as acts of temerity, if not mere follies. 
 
 Suppose the Stoic's Wise-man .should now (being 
 cloathed only with rags and tatters, and almost a 
 skeleton with hunger and famine,) declare in our 
 public places, that he alone abounds in wealth, that 
 he is the only beautiful person, and that it is his 
 proper right to command and govern, — would he not 
 be a laughing-stock to the whole world ? He would 
 be so far from being looked upon as one of the ancient's 
 wise men, that he would be reckoned no better than 
 an arrant fool.
 
 WITH COMMENTS AND REFLECTIONS. 41 
 
 MAXIM V. 
 
 The Wise-man takes care to preserve the inexpli- 
 cable blessing of an undisturbed and qniet mind, even 
 amidst the groans and complaints that excess of pain 
 extorts from him. 
 
 REFLECTION. 
 
 Wisdom is nothino: else but the knowledjre of 
 things ; and this knowledge is the effect of specula- 
 tion and reflection : but our penetration would still be 
 useless, if we had not found out the art of reducing 
 our meditations into practice ; insomuch, that the 
 wise man, having discovered the secrets of nature, 
 and having strained his mind so far as to pry into the 
 minutest and most abstruse things, he at last found 
 out the cause of all the misfortunes of mankind, 
 sought for a remedy thereunto, and concluded it con- 
 sisted in the steadiness of his mind. So that, his 
 resolution being uiishakeable, by the hcip of his rea- 
 son, he makes indolency the sum of all the pleasures 
 of life, slighting his vexations, and keeping always 
 entire that tranquillity of mind which constitutes his 
 happiness. By these means, he is ever armed against 
 the most cruel accidents that can befall him, so as never 
 to be surprised ; and, if excess of torment and pain 
 extort any outward expressions from him, his mind, be- 
 ing always prepared, is insensible to the attack. This 
 made Anaxarchus, when the executioners ^xeYe 
 pounding him in a mortar, bid them take courage, for 
 they were demolishing the prison of his soul. 
 2
 
 42 THE MORALS OF EPICURUS. 
 
 Epicuriis's Wise-man is not insensible to tortures 
 and pains ; but he endures them without weakness. 
 It is, then, an unjust charge from Cicero, Seneca, and 
 several others, in their writings, that our philosopher 
 should boast that, being shut into Phalaris's bull, he 
 would cry out, in the utmost heat of the fire, " It 
 does not affect me — I feel nothing but pleasure." 
 But, as they were famous Stoics, and had an inward 
 esteem for Epicurus, which they did not dare to dis- 
 cover, they laboured all they could to make it appear 
 that these two sects proposed the same end, though 
 they argued differently as to the compassing thereof 
 
 W^iat likelihood is there that Epicurus, who main- 
 tained that the senses could not be deceived, should 
 insinuate that one of his own should represent that to 
 him as pleasurable which in reality was full of pain 
 and torture ? Nay, would it not have been ridiculous, 
 in the midst of groans and lamentations, to affect to 
 uphold that he felt nothing but pleasure ; and so give 
 the lie to what he had himself established as absolutely 
 infallible ? 
 
 He always taught, that pain was pain, and that llie 
 Wise-man could not oppose its effects ; and that it 
 was enough if he underwent with patience those tor- 
 ments which, without this effort, would have disturbed 
 the tranquillity of his mind. 
 
 Wlien he said of Phalaris's bull. It does not affect 
 nor concern me, — it was as much as to say, that he had 
 found out a way, by the strength of his reason, to 
 overcome what causes despair in the greatest part of 
 mankind ; and that that indifferency was the peculiar 
 prerogative of the Wise-man.
 
 WITH COiMMENTS AND REFLECTIONS. 4^1 
 
 This is sufficient to shew that he could never be 
 guilty of saying, he found pleasure in the raging pains, 
 of fire ; for, in the epistle he wrote a few hours before 
 his death, he sincerely owns the cruel torments he 
 endured ; and yet, at the same time, declares that 
 day, in which his distemper seemed to summon all 
 its strength, in order to his dissolution, to be the hap- 
 piest as well as last of his life. He finds a secret 
 satisfaction in the reflection he makes on his many 
 excellent discoveries, and is delighted with the me- 
 mory of them : these thoughts put him above the 
 power of pain, which he knew would soon have an 
 end with his life, and so afforded him a double felicity. 
 
 MAXIM VI. 
 
 The Wise-man alone is qualified for a perfect 
 friendship: for the presence of his friends does not 
 augment it, and their absence does not in the least 
 impair it ; he knows how to preserve it even after 
 their death. 
 
 REFLECTION. 
 
 There is nothing more generally used than the 
 terms of — friend and friendship. We have wonderful 
 examples transmitted to us from former ages of the 
 prodigious effects thereof; but it is a long time since 
 these excellent rarities vanished ; and one may 
 say at present, that friendship is a mere vision, an 
 imaginary notion, that is destroyed by the first dis- 
 taste. It is for that reason that our philosopher main-
 
 44 THE MORALS OF EPICURUS, 
 
 tains, that none but the Wise-man can duly acquit 
 himself of the duties of friendship, by reason that the 
 same thino-s that compose the philosopher form the 
 perfect friend. 
 
 Friends ought to have an equal moderation and 
 docility : it is the main support of the commerce of 
 the mind ; it is a charming as well as necessary means 
 for a reciprocal communication of their thoughts ; and 
 it is what makes them receive with pleasure the coun- 
 sel they give each other. 
 
 A friend ought to know how to distinguish those 
 things which are really valuable and good, and those 
 that are not ; and be endowed with the necessary 
 dispositions that cause this amicable sympathy, which 
 is called Friendship. His conversation ought to be 
 easy, his behaviour without pride ; he must not be 
 fickle in his sentiments ; and his memory should 
 be perfect, that no obligations may slip out, Avhich are 
 tlie very bond of friendship ; but, above all, sincerity 
 must be the basis of all these qualifications. 
 
 This allowed, the maxim of our philosopher has 
 nothing in it that is presumptuous ; for nothing but 
 the sage can be capable of the true sentiments of 
 friendship. He is always exact in what he promises ; 
 he does not stand in need of the presence of his friend 
 to remind him of his duty : absence can make no im- 
 pression upon him to forget it ; he preserves the idea 
 of it even after death, and his friend that ceases to 
 be, lives still in his memory. 
 
 Our times afford nothing; but formal and exterior 
 friends, that govern their friendship according to 
 their interest or convenience : as they dissemble when
 
 WITH COMMENTS AND REFLECTIONS. 45 
 
 they promise, so they make no difficulty to falsify 
 their word. 
 
 Wliat a fatal corruption is this ! — I do not require, 
 at the same time, that any body should imitate Cato, 
 whose love was so excessive for Hortensius, that, per- 
 ceiving him to be in love with his wife, he gave her to 
 him in marriage, to satisfy his passion. 
 
 Neither do we propose for imitation the example of 
 Philades and Orestes, that would die for one another. 
 This heroic abdication of ourselves is out of season ; 
 but I would have us, at the same time that we cannot 
 put in practice these things that seem impossible, not 
 to neglect our duty in those that have nothing in them 
 extraordinary, and, at least, come up to the council 
 of Demetrius Phalereus. " We ought," says this 
 philosopher, " to visit our friends in prosperity when 
 they desire it ; but, when fortune frowns upon them, 
 and that they are in adversity, we ought to run to their 
 assistance without being called. 
 
 MAXIM VII. 
 
 The Wise-man ought to avoid being familiar with 
 any woman, whose conversation is prohibited by the 
 laws. ^ 
 
 REFLECTION. 
 
 As the law is the soul of the state, and that pru- 
 dence is the guide of all the thoughts and actions of 
 the wise, Epicurus requires that his conduct should 
 make it appear that he has that due respect for the
 
 46 THE MORALS OF EPICURUS, 
 
 laws that prudence dictates; and, as he has before 
 given us tlie character of a perfect friend, here he 
 pretends to shew that the laws of a state ought always 
 to have, for their final end, the happiness of the people, 
 and that this happiness entirely depends on their 
 living in unity and friendship. 
 
 Can any thing disturb it more than adultery? It 
 is seeking a good not belonging to us ; it is offering 
 violence to civil society ; it is affronting honour, in 
 whose defence men often sacrifice their lives. Nothinsr 
 can come near this crime ; it is of so cruel a nature 
 as to make us take pleasure in the misfortune of our 
 neighbour : but our religion, w hose aim is to make 
 us perfect, not only prohibits adultery, but forbids 
 also the having to do with any woman, except in mar- 
 riage : out of that holy state, all commerce with them 
 is criminal; nay, the very desire of it is offensive to 
 God, and makes us lose his favour. 
 
 MAXIM VIII. 
 
 The Wise-man ought to chastise and punish his 
 servants; but with this consideration, nevertheless, 
 as to have a regard to those who, by their care, dili- 
 gence, and good-nature^ deserve to be distinguished 
 from the rest. 
 
 REFLECTION. 
 
 Epicurus allows his sage the liberty of punishing 
 his domestics, because he chastises them without 
 anger, and without disturbing, in the least, the state 
 
 I
 
 WITH COMMENTS AND REFLECTIONS. 47 
 
 of his tranquillity : he looks upon it as a thing, not 
 only useful, but likewise just and necessary. 
 
 These domestics were slaves : reason as well as 
 policy required they should be punished; by which 
 means, not only further excesses were prevented, but 
 good habits also contracted, and too great a licence 
 curbed, which by impunity might have been detri- 
 mental to the public. 
 
 But it is easy to observe a distinguishing mark of 
 good-nature in our philosopher: for be expresses a 
 compassion for that slave he will have punished ; and, 
 considering him a man as well as himself, notwith- 
 standing his unhappiness, which he ascribed to the 
 unaccountableness of fortune, he orders a mitigation 
 of the miseries of his unhappy state by a reasonable 
 indulo'ence, and that some reo;ard be had to him on 
 the score of his morals and mind. 
 
 It is plain his precepts were not mere ideas, but 
 likew^ise practice; since, by his will, he freed Mus, 
 only because he had applied himself to philosophy. 
 
 To speak the truth, can any thing be imagined 
 more inhuman than a master, whose fury and caprice 
 render him the tyrant of those that serve him 1 Se- 
 neca inveiohs against the hau2:htv niceties of those 
 of his age, who disdained to eat or talk with their 
 slaves ; which he counselled the wise and sensible 
 part of mankind to do, because (says this philosopher) 
 these wretches took so much pleasure and satisfac- 
 tion in these tokens of bounty and good-nature, as 
 to recompense the liberty they had to speak with the 
 courage they shewed in holding their tongues in tli« 
 
 i2
 
 48 THE MORALS OF EPICURUS, 
 
 midst of torments, and choosing rather to die than to 
 reveal any thing to the prejudice of their masters. 
 
 It was good usage that inspired CateniusPhilotinus 
 with so generous and noble a love for his master, as 
 to make him prefer death to all the riches he had left 
 him by his testament. Most men run risks to gain 
 wealth, yet Catenius despised it so far as to prefer to 
 it the memory he left to posterity of the love he had 
 for his master. 
 
 This noble disposition was so powerfully strong in 
 him, that he flung himself into the flaming pile that 
 was consuming the corpse of his master, who had 
 given liim his liberty. 
 
 MAXIM IX. 
 
 The Wise-man must never yield to the charms of 
 love : it never came from heaven ; its pleasures have 
 nothing valuable in them ; and, if one is unfortunate 
 enough to be overcome by it, he ought to count it a 
 happiness if he comes off" without mischief. 
 
 REFLECTION. 
 
 Epicurus, having placed the felicity of life in the 
 calm, peaceable, and quiet state of the mind, forbids 
 his Wise-man to admit of the least impression from 
 this passion ; for, in reality, it is a wonderful obstacle 
 to the labour and pains he must take to arrive at this 
 blessed tranquillity,— love delighting in idleness, from
 
 WITH COMMENTS AND REFLECTIONS. 49 
 
 whence it had its birth ; labour and pains being dia- 
 metrically oppos^ite to its etl'eminacy. 
 
 How unreasonable were those philosophers that 
 endeavoured to persuade the world, that love had its 
 origin from heaven, since it proceeds from nothing else 
 than the sympathetic dispositions of temper and con- 
 stitution, awakened and stirred up by the presence of 
 the respective objects. 
 
 Reflect on the pleasure it affords, and the uneasi- 
 ness it causes, and you will lind it to be a mere Proteus, 
 that is always changing its form. 
 
 If it flatters and pleases you, alas! it is but for a 
 few transitory moments, and that the better to esta- 
 blish its usuipation. It has hardly seduced you by 
 its first allurements, when on the sudden it changes 
 the satisfaction you received into the most cruel tor- 
 ments, and plagues you with its most racking and 
 rigid pains. For these reasons, our philosopher as- 
 serts, that this passion is in no wise beneficial ; but, 
 on the contrary, very pernicious, since it knows no 
 moderation. To be excessive, is its character, because 
 it expects to find some relief; but, as Lucretius w ell 
 observes, it is all in vain, by reason it is insatiable. 
 
 It is reported, that Selemnus had so strong a passion 
 for the nymph Argyra, that he died thereof, and that 
 Venus, out of pity, changed him into a fountain that 
 had this quality, viz. — to w ash out of the hearts of 
 them that bathed therein the most minute remains of 
 passion that was uneasy to them. If this be true, says 
 Pausanias, this w^ater w^as more precious than gold ; 
 and, in my opinion, it might deservedly be preferred 
 to philosophy itself, whose counsels very oflen have no
 
 50 THE MORALS OF EPICURUS, 
 
 effect in love. Is it possible that the Stoics, afler 
 having maintained, by their patron Seneca, that the 
 wisdom of Cato had received no blemish from the 
 excess of wine, and assnred us that their sage might 
 love without derogating from the severity of his pro- 
 fession, could anywise prejudice Epicurus with 
 posterity? Shall these false professors of virtue per- 
 suade us, that a man can be wise amidst the. 
 transports of love, which is the destructive rock of 
 quiet, resolution, and happiness? 
 
 Where is wisdom, when a man is overcome with 
 the dismal vapours of jealousy, by the transports of a 
 slighted love, and by the onawins; reflections on infi- 
 delity ? Where is, in fine, wisdom, when a man 
 employs his greatest cunning and art only to augment 
 his torment ; when he sacrifices his reason and good 
 sense to the caprice of a loose extravagant woman ; 
 for which proceeding, at the same time as )ie imagines 
 himself to be a wise Stoic, the rest of ihe world con- 
 cludes him to be the greatest of fools ? 
 
 MAXIM X. 
 
 The Wise-man ought not to be too solicitous for his 
 burial. 
 
 REFLECTION. 
 
 Tlie superfluous care that is taken, during a man's 
 life, for his funeral, proceeds only from the pride of self- 
 love, — it looks as if he proposed to live after death, 
 when he expresses so much concern about the place 
 
 2 ■
 
 WITH COMMENTS AND REFLECTIONS. 61 
 
 tliat shall be the repository of his dead carcase. He 
 flatters himself with thoughts of immortality, by these 
 exterior marks ; and, instead of making it his business 
 to get a good reputation, he entertains his imagina- 
 tion wMth the magnificence of the titles that are to 
 compose his epitaph. " 
 
 This is a foolish presumption that the sage ought 
 not to be tainted with. When death has once made 
 a dissolution of the parts that compose us, there is so 
 little room required to contain them, that it is even 
 ridiculous to be solicitous about it. 
 
 The earth, from whence we came, is always ready 
 to receive us ; and, though the matter that contains 
 our small remains be ever so precious, yet corrup- 
 tion takes care to restore us to our common mother ; 
 and, time, which preys even upon nature itself, will, 
 at length, consume our tomb, though it were of ada- 
 mant or brass. 
 
 This made Socrates, being asked, before he died, 
 how he would be buried? — answer. Conformably to 
 the sentiments of Epicurus. This great philosopher 
 having filled all Greece with his wisdom, and whose 
 memory w^as never likely to be forgotten, contented 
 himself with that immortality, and left it to the choice 
 of his friends to bury him, as they should find most 
 easy and commodious to themselves. 
 
 Diogenes ordered, that his body should not be put 
 into the ground ; and, when his friends thereupon 
 asked him, if he would be a prey to the fowls and 
 wild beasts? — he answered, smiling. No! therefore 
 put a stick near me, that I may drive them aw ay. 
 
 The Parthians were used to expose their dead till
 
 52 THE MORALS OP EPICURUS, 
 
 the birds and beasts had left nothing but their bones, 
 which they then committed to the grave. Aristidcs 
 was so undi.'^turbed at his death, that he did not leave 
 wherewithal to bury him: and, indeed, it was more 
 to his honour, to have that duty discharged at the 
 public expense. His valour, his justice, and wisdom, 
 (which made Plato say, he was the only man that 
 deserved to be admired,) were an everlasting monu- 
 ment to him. The memory of Artemisia's husband 
 Avas more celebrated by the love that princess bore to 
 him, than by the magnificent mausoleum she erected 
 to it. 
 
 There have been, nevertheless, some people that 
 expressed more concern for their sepulture, than for 
 life itself. The Spartans, the eve of the day of battle, 
 were used to fasten to their right arm certain marks, 
 on which were engraved their own name, and that of 
 their fathers : to the end, that, if they had the ill fate 
 to be all slain, and that their bodies should be so dis- 
 figured as not to be distinguishable, they might, not- 
 withstanding, by means of that inscription, be restored 
 to the tombs of their ancestors. It is recorded among^ 
 the other cruelties that Philip of Macedon practised 
 towards the Thebans, after the victory he obtained 
 against Greece, that he took a price from the parents^ 
 for the privilege of burying their relations. 
 
 MAXIM XL 
 
 The Wise-man shall not study eloquence in the 
 exposition of his discoveries.
 
 WITH COMMENTS AND REFLECTIONS. 3S 
 
 REFLECTION. 
 
 Philosophy is an enquiry after truth ; all its specu- 
 lations tend to this happy discovery, and the mind 
 must be continually in action to attain it. The great 
 secret is, how to husband time, \vhose irrevocable 
 course sufficiently shows how precious its moments 
 are : may it not then properly be said to be lost, what 
 is mispent in the invention of expressions, that at 
 best only flatter the ear, and do not satisfy the 
 mind. 
 
 It is unworthy of the Wise-man, to be over-studious 
 in the knowledge of words, and to affect to be nice in 
 the turn of his periods when he is teaching truth ; it is 
 making it almost doubtful, and even profaning its 
 simplicity ; it is making a criminal medley of things 
 real, and those that have their existence but in the 
 imagination. The philosopher, therefore, must not 
 imitate the ways of the orator, whose profession, ac- 
 cording to Plato, is to persuade whatever he pleases, 
 by the means of his expressions, that have no solidity 
 in them, — and to charm (as one may say) his auditory 
 in favour of the fable ; it is an art that glories in de- 
 ceiving, and that has not for aim the matter, but the 
 manner, and form, of the discourse. 
 
 On the contrary, the Wise-man advances nothing 
 but what is conformable to his speculations ; he has 
 no other view^ than to instruct ; and he submits his 
 words to the strength of his thoughts. Epicurus will 
 have it, that the figures of rhetoric are altogether 
 useless in the explication of the precepts of wisdom, 
 which he requires should be taught without affecta- 
 
 K
 
 §4 THE MORALS OF EPICURUS, 
 
 tion ; aiid that it is better to lengthen one's discourse 
 than to make use of apostrophes, antitheses, and the 
 other address the art of speaking teaciies ; for, the 
 discourvse can never be too long, when it is con- 
 cerning the nature of things, which it explains in 
 proper, intelligible, and natural terms. 
 
 MAXIM XII. 
 
 The Wise-man shall not marry, nor trouble himself 
 with the thoughts of receiving, as it were, a fresh 
 being, in his children ; not but there are accidents in 
 life that may oblige him to this engagement, and 
 make him wish for posterity. 
 
 REFLECTION. 
 
 Plato, in his republic, ordains, all women should 
 be in common. One would think from thence, thai 
 he was prejudiced as to the constancy and lidelity of 
 the sex, as well as the difficulty there is to stem the 
 torrent of their passions; insomuch, that judging this 
 to be above the power of a single man, he thought of 
 effecting it by pluralities. 
 
 He played here the politician, — it Vvas striking at 
 the root of many evils, and taking away the racking 
 torments that honour causes, when it is injured by 
 their misbehaviour. 
 
 Epicurus, without entering on the detail of these, 
 plagues, \Vhich have something very formidable in
 
 WITH COMMENTS AND REFLECTIONS. 55 
 
 them, will, if possible, have his Wise-man absolutely 
 avoid the clanger, by shunning the engagement. 
 
 To speak the truth, — a wife, children, and the 
 carking cares of these things, disturb our tran- 
 quillity, and only carry us into a sea of trouble. Not 
 but that matrimony is in itself a good thing, nay, ex- 
 cellent ; since it is ordained both by religion and the 
 laws, and procures the duration of civil society ; but 
 the consequences thereof alter very much the sweet- 
 ness of its condition. This made one of the ancients 
 say, " that the two happiest days of that state were 
 the first, and that of our death, that freed us from it." 
 
 Our philosoplier, who governs himself by prudence, 
 is not so rigid but that he admits of some exceptions 
 to this severe law. He allows, therefore, of marriage, 
 where necessity or utility seems to make it advisable, 
 — which indulgence is authorised by justice : for, 
 though this state carries with it something very 
 frightful and forbidding, there are certain junctures 
 that really oblige us to embrace it : and, although we 
 are sensible we act against the counsels of a rigid 
 and strict wisdom, yet we, in a manner, free our- 
 selves from censure, when the uneasiness that usually 
 accompanies this indissoluble bond is sweetened with 
 a plentiful fortune. But, on the other side, a mar- 
 riage contracted without these weighty considera- 
 tions, runs a great risk of being unhappy and vex- 
 atious. 
 
 History, which furnishes us with many examples of 
 its fatal consequences, affords us some instances, and 
 those illustrious ones, too, in its favour. Caritho had 
 ^o tender and passionate a love for her husband, 
 
 K 2
 
 56 THE MORALS OF EPICURL'S, 
 
 Jovinian, the emperor, lliat tlie beholding his Iriumph 
 proved the innocent cause of her death : this princess 
 beino* overioved that her husband was returned victo- 
 rious oA-er his enemies. 
 
 The History of Germany makes mention of a town 
 where there was as many heroines as women. Weins- 
 bero- having been besieged and taken by Conradus III. 
 all was to be sacrificed to the fury of the conquerors, 
 the women only excepted, who were permitted to go 
 off; and, having obtained leave to carry what they 
 would along with them, love, that is otherwise effe- 
 minate and weak, furnished them with so much 
 strength, that they took their husbands upon their 
 shoulders, and their children in their hands ; which 
 unexpected sight so disarmed the emperor's anger, 
 that the men were no longer looked upon as criminals 
 by him, because their wives had proved so virtuous. 
 
 MAXIM XIII. 
 
 The Wise-man ouo^ht never to drink to excess ; 
 neither must he spend the nights in revelling and 
 feasting. 
 
 REFLECTION. 
 
 Though the Stoics were convinced, that the weak- 
 ness of man was such as rendered it impossible for 
 him to attain to that sublime path of perfection, to 
 which they affected to raise their Wise-man, — yet 
 have they used their utmost efforts to support this 
 idol of their vanity.
 
 WITH COMMENTS AND REFLECTIONS. 57 
 
 They have endeavoured, by false arguments, to 
 prove, that he was infalHble, though addicted to all the 
 failings to which the weakness of mankind could sub- 
 ject him : they have given us to understand, that this 
 masteipiece of their pride might be involved in the 
 pleasures of love and wine, without the least blemish 
 to his wisdom. 
 
 Seneca reproves Zeno for endeavouring to vindi- 
 cate his sage from the imputation of drunkenness, 
 because he was intrusted with the greatest secrets ; 
 and that such a man, although surprised by the fumes 
 of wine, could never be censured as a drunkard. It is 
 in vain (says this philosopher) that you strive to prove 
 that the Wise-man, in the midst of the transports of 
 of wine, can still preserve an equality of mind ; you 
 might as well pretend, that, having taken poison, he 
 should not be liable to death ; and that, in the pro- 
 foundest sleep, yet he was still awake. Can you dis- 
 allow (says he) when you observe his tottering and 
 stumbling w alk, his stammering and imperfect speech, 
 that he is overtaken M^ith Avine, nay, really drunk ? 
 
 Ts it possible that the impudence of the Stoics 
 should remain so long undiscovered ; and that they 
 should have any success in the impostures and lies 
 they published to the prejudice of Epicurus, whose 
 virtue shone as bright in his actions as in his writ- 
 ings? Surely these false professors of wisdom, made 
 account that posterity would be very credulous, when 
 they delivered themselves with so little caution. 
 
 The same Seneca styles Zeno the head of an in- 
 trepid holy sect ; and afterwards he reproves him for 
 maintaining captiously, that drunkenness made no
 
 58 Tllli MOIIALS OF EPICURUS, 
 
 alteration in wisdom : in that very different from 
 Epicurus, who absokitely forbids all excess of wine. 
 He has only permitted those entertainments of which 
 he speaks in his Testament, where he takes notice 
 that he used to have them in memory of his father 
 and brothers, and ordains the same practice in favour 
 of his own, — by reason they were so contrived that 
 the mind was more nourished than the body. It is 
 durins; these innocent agreeable freedoms, that the 
 soul communicates itself in a special manner; they 
 are as it were the bond of a wise conversation, 
 wherein is discoursed, with all the mildness possible, 
 concerning; nature, whose most abstruse secrets are 
 enquired into ; our behaviour and manners are like- 
 wise considered. Here, according to Horace, they 
 discussed the question of the sovereign good of life, 
 whether riches could lead a man to that felicity, and 
 whether virtue did not constitute that happy state. 
 
 MAXIM XIV. 
 
 He shall not cake upon him the administration of 
 the commonwealth. 
 
 REFLECTION. 
 
 He may be looked upon as exempt from all the 
 tyranny of the passions, and to have a certain mark 
 of a true tranquillity, that can behold dignity and 
 honours without desiring them. 
 
 The ambitious seek after them, to sooth their vanity 
 and pride; the vindictive, to satisfy their revenge; 
 
 2
 
 AVITH COMMENTS AND REFLECTIONS. OU 
 
 the clioleric, to exercise with impunity the fierceness 
 of their temper ; and they that are hurried away with 
 bhnd love, that they may place upon the throne the 
 object of their passion. 
 
 How charminir it is to be so much master of one's- 
 self, as to regard with an unconcerned eye these 
 triflino' honours ! How deliohtful must it needs be 
 to be free from the inquietudes and uneasiness that 
 are inseparable companions of those that labour to 
 set themselves above the rest! How ravishing to 
 enjoy the interior pleasures of the wise, and to be 
 to oneself one's own proper felicity ! 
 
 This generous contempt of the honours that accom- 
 pany the administration of governments, is, once more, 
 a certain mark that one has overcome human weak- 
 ness. 
 
 How full of prudence is this maxim ; and how 
 dangerous a rock does the governing a state prove to 
 the Wise-man ! — for he has then a double task, being 
 taken up, not only with the study how to preserve 
 the calm of his own mind, but also how to procure 
 the quiet and ease of others. He shall put in practice 
 all that the most consummate prudence and most 
 refined policy can suggest ; and yet. if fortune, who 
 over-rules the event of things, shall oppose his glo- 
 rious undertakings, he shall l)e judged faulty, and, 
 as it were, accountable for her injustice. 
 
 Alcibiades was no sooner forsaken by this unac- 
 countable goddess, than his fellow-citizens (not being 
 able to ascribe to his ill conduct the ill success of the 
 war) charged him w ith impiety, as if they could arm 
 against him both religion and the gods. He \Nas
 
 60 THE MORALS OF EPICURU.^!, 
 
 forced to flv to escape their furv ; but his adversity 
 served only to make him more illustrious, for he per- 
 formed so many fine actions, that the Athenians were 
 forced to recall him. They went out to meet him ; 
 havin'T' with them the same gods, whose thunder they 
 would before have drawn dovvn upon him : they for- 
 got the losses they had sustained in Sicily, as well as 
 that of their fleet ; and, having made him very mag- 
 niiicent presents, they changed their injuries into 
 public applause, and their imprecations into prayers 
 for his posterity. 
 
 As there was no medium in the happiness of this 
 great captain, so Fortune knew none in her persecu- 
 tions ; and, if she raised him one while to the highest 
 pitch of glory, it was in order to treat him afterwards 
 with the greater inhumanity; for, he having afresh 
 incurred the haired of the Athenians, and appearing 
 so formidable even in his disgrace, that they who 
 pursued him, by order of those who had usurped the 
 government, did not dare to attack him with open 
 force, they set fire to the house where he lay, and so 
 burnt him in liis bed. 
 
 The Wise-man, therefore, ought never to hazard his 
 tranquillity for the sake of honours, the elevation to 
 which may ruffle and discompose it : it is buying tliat 
 splendid outward appearance at too dear a rate. He 
 ought much less to thirst after being prime-minister 
 to any prince, that function being more dangerous 
 than any other ; for he has not only the prince, but the 
 people, to censure his actions, and it is very difficult 
 to keep up to an exact medium between tliose two 
 extremes.
 
 WITH COMMENTSi'AND REFLECTIONS. 61 
 
 A blind obedience to the one shall often make him 
 incur the hatred of the other : if he endeavour to 
 gain the good-will of the people, envy immediately 
 represents him to the prince as an ambitious person, 
 who conceals his evil designs under the specious cover 
 of the public good. But this maxim only opposes the 
 ambition of the subject, without obstructing in the 
 least the choice of the sovereign. 
 
 MAXIM XV. 
 
 He shall not live after the manner of the Cynics. 
 
 REFLECTION. 
 
 Although, according to our philosopher. Nature is 
 the true guide we ought to follow in the pursuit of 
 happiness, he requires nevertheless that she should 
 go hand-in-hand v. ith the laws, and that decency 
 ought to be observed in civil society. This made him 
 censure the behaviour of the Cynics, who made their 
 impudence the chief characteristic to distinguish 
 them from other men, making the happiness of life to 
 consist in the imitation of what was filthy, even in the 
 brutes. 
 
 It is very well known that Crates and Diogenes 
 have made profession of beastly impudence, even in 
 public places, in which they have not been ashamed 
 to do those actions that ought to have no other witness 
 than the night and darkness. To this pitch did they 
 carry this false notion, — that nature ought to be the 
 guide and rule of all their actions.
 
 62 THE MORALS OF EPICURUS, 
 
 MAXIM XVL 
 
 He sliall not beg for a livelihood ; but, if necessi- 
 tous, he may teach philosophy, to subsist by. 
 
 REFLECTION. 
 
 Poverty, according to Horace, renders us ridiculous ; 
 and, although Epicurus requires that his Sage, or 
 Wise-man, should be above the affronts of men, yet 
 he cautiously forbids him to give occasion for any 
 contempt of his profession. 
 
 AVisdom, though it ought to be satisfied with its 
 peculiar and proper advantages, should not be ex- 
 posed to the indignities of a necessitous w^ant. His 
 prohibition is by so much the more reasonable, that he 
 always maintained that man stood in need but of a 
 small matter for his subsistence, and that, therefore, 
 the Wise-man ought never to be reduced to that ex- 
 treniity which may reasonably be counted the greatest 
 of evils. 
 
 In fine, if cruel fortune should deal so rigorously 
 with him as to make him want necessaries, and by 
 that means endeavour to disturb the tranquillity of 
 his mind, he must then summons the whole streno^th 
 of his virtuous habits ; and, that he may triumph over 
 his unworthy fate, he must have recourse to the 
 teaching philosophy to supply his w ants, that he may 
 receive from her wherewith to support life, as well as 
 to compose and calm his mind.
 
 WITH COMMEJfTS AND REFLECTIONS. 63 
 
 MAXIM XVII. 
 
 If he should, by an accident or misfortune, become 
 blind, that affliction ought not to make life tedious to 
 him, or impair his happiness. 
 
 REFLECTION. 
 
 Epicurus, who pretends that his Wise-man shall 
 never depart from the precepts of wisdom ; that his 
 reflections have placed him above all misfortunes, 
 insomuch, that, if the universe were to swallow him 
 in its ruins, he would share the calamity without any 
 disturbance to his mind ; will not have it to be in the 
 power of any thing to make him lose the severity of 
 his profession : so that, if he were deprived of his 
 sight, he ought to bear it as a natural accident; and, 
 having lost the benefit of the eyes of his body, apply 
 himself more studiously to speculation by the eyes of 
 his mind. 
 
 He will have his Sage happy in all circumstances, 
 even in the very worst ; that his mind be quiet and 
 undisturbed amidst the horrors of shipwreck; in fine, 
 that he be intrepid, and that the constant reflection he 
 shall make on himself be the source and spring of his 
 indolency. 
 
 Thus, we see, the fortitude of Callisthenes was ad- 
 mired by all men. When Alexander would cause 
 himself to be adored, after the Persian manner, this 
 philosopher was the only man who dared to oppose it, 
 and remonstrate to that prince, that that action, though 
 approved of and practised by those he had overcome, 
 
 l2
 
 ^ THE MORALS OF EPICURUS, 
 
 was unworthy him and his victorious army. Alexander 
 was so transpojted with rage hereat, that nothing but 
 the inexpressible tortures of this captain and philo- 
 sopher could appease him : he theretore caused his 
 ears, nose, and lips to be cut off, and, liaving disfi- 
 gured all his limbs, ordered him to be shut into a 
 cage with a dog, and in that deplorable condition 
 caused him to be carried up and down, as a melan- 
 choly spectacle of his impotent passion and fury. 
 
 This wise Macedonian did not express any more 
 uneasiness in this dismal state than when in his pro- 
 found speculations and greatest favour with his 
 prince : he appeared as magnanimous as when he 
 fought for this ungrateful king; and, to finish happily 
 his unspotted life, he made a school of the place of 
 his torment, and to the last gasp, in a manner, in- 
 structed Lysimachus in the precepts of virtue and 
 wisdom. He had no thought of putting an end to 
 his tortures : he pleased himself, on the contrary, 
 with the trial of his constancy, that would have con- 
 tinued longer the subject of admiration, had not his 
 generous disciple, being astonished at his heroic 
 steadiness and resolution, put an end to his pain by 
 poison, which he gave him as an acknowledgment for 
 his instructions. 
 
 The Wise-man must be immoveable to all the ac- 
 cidents of life, and be satisfied and contented in that 
 state and condition that provokes despair in vulgar 
 souls; and, so far from freeing himself by death, 
 which would argue the loss of his tranquillity, and 
 that he gave way to human weakness, that he must 
 preserve his life, enjoy that felicity which he has ac-
 
 WITH COMMENTS AND REFLECTIONS. 65 
 
 quired, and make use of the loss of his eyes to give 
 the greater Hberty to his uiiud. 
 
 MAXIM XVIII. 
 
 The Wise-man may be sad on certain occasions. 
 
 REFLECTION. 
 
 This maxim is an undeniable proof of Epicurus' 
 sincerity : he permits his Sage to afford something to 
 grief and sadness. Seneca, though a Stoic, blames 
 that hard-heartedness that would have us insensible 
 and incapable of any tender affection : " It is nothing," 
 says he, " but the want of a trial that makes these 
 haughty indifferents : should Fortune but make them 
 sensible of her strokes by the loss of something very 
 dear and valuable to them, she would force from them 
 a confession of this truth." 
 
 The wise man, by this sadness, shall no ways 
 swerve from his happy state, if he does but take care 
 to observe an exact medium in his complaints. 
 
 MAXIM XIX. 
 
 The Wise-man may be accused, and brought to 
 judgment. 
 
 REFLECTION. 
 
 The wisest of men is not sheltered from injustice 
 and envy. He may be calumniated, it is true ; but it
 
 60 THE MORALS OF EPICURUS, 
 
 shall not work upon him, because he knows his own 
 probity and virtue ; and malice, whose current he 
 cannot stem, is not capable of discomposing his tran- 
 quillity : so that, though he be brought before a 
 judge, and that he be cast by the interest and con- 
 trivance of his enemies, his innocence shall still be a 
 sufficient buckler and protection to hini, every way 
 impenetrable to his adversaries ; and his steadiness 
 of mind shall make him look with contempt on all 
 the tricks and artifices that have been used to oppress 
 him. 
 
 Socrates, whose wisdom was approved and ap- 
 plauded by the oracle, was condemned, it is true; 
 but time shewed the injustice of his sentence : his 
 judges were punished, and the plague itself seemed 
 to revenge his quarrel ; his country erected statues to 
 him afterwards, and adored his memory. 
 
 "The body," says Sophocles, "may perish; but 
 virtue is above the power of death, for slie knows no 
 other bounds than immortalitv." 
 
 MAXIM XX. 
 
 He may write books that may immortalise his 
 name, but he shall not meddle with panegyrics. 
 
 REFLECTION I. 
 
 The attainments of the wise would be of little use, 
 if they did not transmit them to posterity, which 
 could not be a competent judge of their merit, if they 
 had not taken care to convey to it the never-perishable 
 fruits of their labour.
 
 WITH COMMENTS AND REFLECTIONS. 6T 
 
 Our philosopher (to whom, in the opinion of 
 LucretiiivS, we are more obhged for the remedies he 
 has taiio'ht us ao^ainst th.e accidental misfortunes of 
 our life, than we are to Ceres and Bacchus for teach- 
 ing us the art of producing- wine and corn,) will have 
 us hand down to posterity our acquisitions and im- 
 provements. 
 
 It is by the monuments of illustrious men, who 
 have distinguished themselves by the strength of their 
 mind, that the learned have been excited to follow 
 their example, and improve their hrst discoveries. 
 
 It is therefore that Epicurus counsels his Sage to 
 meditate in his closet, and there to run over the vast 
 extent of immensity ; and, as the irrecoverable swift- 
 ness of time ouo'lit to make every moment thereof 
 precious to us, he confines him to the pursuit of things 
 that are solid, and forbids him having any thing to 
 do with those subjects where the expression seems to 
 be more regarded than the substance. 
 
 A philosopher ought not to seek to eternise his 
 memory by an artful and well-composed speech : he 
 should not, according to Seneca, employ much time 
 in the curious study of words : his business is to re- 
 form our manners ; he must write for the information 
 of the mind, without amusing himself with what may 
 flatter the ear. 
 
 REFLECTION II. 
 
 It is certain that a panegyric is a curious work, 
 when it has no other aim than to do justice to virtue 
 and truth ; which, though they are of such a nature 
 as to receive no advantage from the splendour and
 
 68 THE MORALS OF EPICURUS, 
 
 briohtness of words, and that they find their greatest 
 praise in their respective actions ; yet it cannot be 
 denied that, so apphed, it is a most excellent thing. 
 But, for the most part, we praise that we may be 
 praised ourselves, or rewarded : we set out exterior 
 virtues, under which shall lurk greater vices, inso- 
 much that many times the very essence or soul of 
 a panegyric shall be nothing but flattery and un- 
 truth. 
 
 What credit can we give to him that sells the 
 beauty of his expressions, and brightens and sets off, 
 by a fine turn of period, actions in themselves blame- 
 worthy, racking his mind only to shew the servile 
 character thereof? 
 
 Eloquence is a dangerous thing : if it be sincere, it 
 creates enemies ; for, as it magnifies and augments 
 the illustrious subject, so it swells and enlarges the 
 vicious one. 
 
 If the Roman orator had been less eloquent in 
 inveio^hing against the vices of Anthony, he had not, 
 in all likelihood, stirred up his revenge so far as to 
 be no otherwise appeased than with his head. 
 
 The art of speaking always carries things to ex- 
 cess. In the Emperor Tiberius' time, she lent her 
 finest strokes to applaud all the actions of that prince, 
 who at the same time laughed at his panegyrists. 
 Under Nero, it was made use of to recommend to 
 the gods the happy time of Poppea ; and afterwards 
 to make the apotheosis of the daughter she had by 
 that unworthy emperor. 
 
 History, in fine, relates, that Hegesias the philo- 
 sopher was so powerfully persuasive an orator on the 
 
 2
 
 WITH COMMENTS AND REFLECTIONS. 69 
 
 iihhappiness and misfortunes of life, that most of 
 those that heard him laid violent hands on them- 
 selves: it w^as for that reason that Ptolemy com- 
 manded him never to speak on that head. 
 
 MAXIM XXI. 
 
 The Wise-man must have a due care of his fa- 
 mily, and foresee what may happen, without avarice 
 or too eager a pursuit after riches. 
 
 REFLECTION. 
 
 Prudence, in Epicurus' opinion, has something in 
 it superior to philosophy : it is this eminent virtue 
 that guides and steers all other kinds of knowledge 
 of our mind for the greater felicity of our life : where- 
 fore he ordains, that she shall ever be the rule, and, 
 as it were, the directrix of all the thoughts and ac- 
 tions of the w^ise man. He docs not think it suffi- 
 cient that he should have so discharged his duty for 
 the time past, in reference to his family, that nothing- 
 can be reproached him on that score, unless he by a 
 due foresight provides for the future : but he must 
 not, in order to effect this, be avaricious, nor be too 
 eagerly bent upon riches. He requires, he should 
 know the rules that nature has prescribed for the 
 right use thereof, and that he should covet them only 
 to avoid a pinching necessity. 
 
 How different is this vice of avarice from all 
 others ! The luxurious man spares nothing to gra- 
 tify his palate ; the lover grudges no expence to 
 
 M
 
 70 THE MOUALS OF EPICURUS, 
 
 satisfy his })assion : but the wretched miser does not 
 so nuicli as know how to make use of his wealth. 
 
 To be short, the avaricious man banishes all just 
 proceeding, to follow his own odious inclination, 
 which is merely to enrich himself; which practice is 
 -diametrically opposite to the dictates of true wisdom. 
 
 MAXIM XXII. 
 
 Ke shall be prepared against all the attacks of 
 fortune. 
 
 REFLECTION. 
 
 Fortimc is the bitterest enemy the Wise-man has ; 
 and, as the major part of mankind are her slaves, 
 ^and worship her in her inconstancy, she disdains 
 these, and levels her mischiefs at more noble objects. 
 
 She, knowing by experience what she can do, 
 makes her temerarious enough to assault those heads 
 that are grown grey in speculation ; and she never 
 despairs sinking, by the violence of her storms, even 
 those that teach us the art of tranquillity. 
 
 It is, therefore, against her that the Wise-man 
 ought to double his caution. If she smiles upon 
 him, it is a snare which she prepares him, that he may 
 imagine his own merit draws those presents from 
 her, and that he may become blind with the vanity 
 of self-love. 
 
 How dreadful is this false deity! Her greatest 
 favours ought to be suspected ; since they can trans- 
 form a reasonable wise man into a proud haughty 
 
 3
 
 WITH COMMENTS AND REFLECTIONS. 71 
 
 fool ; and that the fury of her attacks may wrest from 
 the Sage himself that precious calm and quiet of 
 mind, in which consist all the charms of his life. 
 
 He must, therefore, summon all the strength of 
 his reflections, to defend himself against this pro- 
 fessed enemy of his rest ; he must receive her pre- 
 sents with indifferency, and arm himself much more 
 against her caresses than her displeasure. She ought 
 to be more suspected by him when she flatters, than 
 frightful in the time of her anger. If she begin to 
 rage, he must encounter her with all the resolution 
 possible. Her most cruel events do not concern us ; 
 she can take nothing from us, but what depends on 
 her: as for wisdom, as it is the fruit of our medita- 
 tions, it is our own proper good, and no ways sub- 
 ject to the fickleness of her empire. 
 
 Socrates, who had submitted to his reason the 
 natural disposition he had to intemperance, — who 
 was looked upon as a perfect model of a virtuous 
 life, — who had had the testimony of the oracle to 
 witness his wisdom, — receives the injuries of fortune 
 with the same unconcernedness as he received the 
 encomiums that were given him. Whether he is 
 teaching the rules of an exact morality, — whether he 
 is answering his corrupt judges, — whether he is re- 
 ceiving sentence of death, or swallowing the poison, 
 — he is still the same Socrates : that is to say, calm, 
 quiet, undisturbed, intrepid ; in a word, wise to the 
 last. 
 
 Boetius, who had seen his family in the highest 
 degree of honour, without being puffed up with his 
 prosperity, foresaw its ruin with indifference, and 
 
 m2
 
 72 THE MORALS OF EPICURUS, 
 
 and vsuffered dcatli without any more than a decent 
 concern. 
 
 Caesar beholds his murderers with their daggers 
 in their hands, and yet at that instant the thoughts 
 of death do not busy his mind, but the manner only 
 how Caesar ought to die : he therefore summoneth, 
 in that juncture, all that wisdom had taught him 
 against fortune. Prudence informs him, he cannot 
 fly from what was inevitable ; magnanimity makes 
 him sensible, that great men have at any time lived 
 long enough when Death calls them ; and justice in- 
 spires him with a sort of concern for the ingratitude 
 of him he had adopted for his son. 
 
 Nothing alarms the Wise-man : the sight of racks, 
 (says Seneca,) — the loss of his estate, — the desola- 
 tion of his family, and life itself, that is wrested from 
 him in the utter destruction of his country,— are not 
 capable of impairing this heroic virtue, which he 
 owes to his meditations. He enjoys, in the opinion 
 of this philosopher, an entire liberty, and is inviola- 
 ble ; his constancy cannot be shaken, and he is well 
 prepared against all extraordinary emergencies, that 
 they cannot in the least alter the state of his mind. 
 
 MAXIM XXIII, 
 
 He shall not seek the friendship of the peevish and 
 morose man.
 
 WITH COMMENTS AND REFLECTIONS. 78 
 
 REFLECTION. 
 
 Friendship, when contracted with all the necessary 
 circumstances, is one of the greatest consolations of 
 life : we must not, then, suffer ourselves to be hur^ 
 ried away by any sudden inclination ; but we must 
 examine Avell the choice we are going to make ; we 
 must study the humour and manners of him with 
 whom we intend to have this commerce ; but, above 
 all things, we must take care that he be not of the 
 number of those melancholy hypochondriacs, whom 
 nothing can please, who seem to have eyes only 
 to look askew, who speak only to find fault, and who 
 are, in fine, of so difficult and morose a temper that 
 nobody can do any thing to their satisfaction. 
 
 If we have not these considerations, instead of a 
 trusty friend, we shall be sure to find a censorious 
 critic ; and, instead of consolation in our misfortunes, 
 we shall receive the severest reprimands. Nothing, 
 in Seneca's opinion, can prove a greater comfort to 
 the mind than a friendship accompanied with fidelity 
 and mildness. Is it not a mighty blessing to meet 
 with one whose happy dispositions and qualifications 
 render him worthy of being, as it were, the deposi-» 
 tory of our greatest secrets, and who has so fine and 
 noble a soul, that we fear his indiscretion less than 
 our own? The sweetness of his conversation shall 
 allay our grief; his advice shall serve us in the con- 
 duct of our affairs, and the very sidit of him shall 
 dispel our cares.
 
 74 THE MORALS OF EPICURUS, 
 
 MAXIM XXIV. 
 
 If he endeavour to get a good reputation, it shall 
 be chielly in order to screen him from contempt. 
 
 REFLECTION. 
 
 Wisdom alone is what constitutes a happy and 
 quiet life : she is the final end of our enquiries ; she 
 is the fruit of our watchings ; in short, she is a cer- 
 tain refuge against the tyranny of our passions and 
 fortune. After this glorious acquisition, nothing is 
 capable of flattering the sage. 
 
 Whatever men generally behold with envy are to 
 him indifferent objects : he pities those whom ambi- 
 tion, pride, and riches, have allured by the deceitful 
 appearance of false goods ; ho is contented with the 
 testimony of his conscience. The having established 
 a good reputation adds nothing to the happiness of 
 his state, which, in Epicurus' notion, is such as is 
 neither capable of diminution or augmentation ; and, 
 as reputation contains nothing that can satisfy the 
 Wise-man, he looks upon it as a thing merely req^ui- 
 site to shelter him from contempt. 
 
 MAXIM XXV. 
 
 The Wise-man shall reap more benefit, and take 
 more satisfaction in the public shews, than other 
 men.
 
 WITH COMMENTS AND REFLECTIONS. 7o 
 REFLECTION. 
 
 It is most certain that the satisfaction of the Wise- 
 man chiefly proceeds from the condition or state of 
 iiis mind. If he assist at the piibhc diversions, does 
 he not there taste all that a serious reflection has 
 most excellent in it? He there observes the different 
 characters of the spectators ; he can discover by their 
 looks the effect of the passion that moves them, and, 
 amidst the confusion that reigns in those places 
 (which is still greater in the interior of them that 
 form those tumultuous assemblies), he has the plea- 
 sure to find himself the only person undisturbed, and 
 in a state of tranquillity. 
 
 To speak the truth, most of the great men tliat 
 have delighted in these public spectacles, have gene- 
 rally proposed to themselves other pleasures. If 
 Pompey built a magniflcent amphitheatre, it was in 
 order to embellish Rome, and flatter his vanity with 
 the thought of leaving to posterity that sumptuous 
 monument of his grandeur, and to behold, as it 
 w^erc, at one viev,', all tlie slaves of his interest and 
 power. 
 
 MAXIM XXVI. 
 
 Vices are unequal, and have their distinguishing 
 differences. 
 
 REFLECTION. 
 
 This maxim is directly opposite to the paradox of 
 the Stoics, who, as they maintained that all virtues
 
 •Jt^ THE MORALS OF EPICURUS, 
 
 were equal, so ncitlier did they allow of any differ- 
 ence in crimes. 
 
 The sentiment of our philosopher is infinitely more 
 conformable to good sense and religion. How can 
 any man pretend to assert, that he that is guilty of 
 parricide is not more criminal than he who has com- 
 mitted a simple theft ; and, as Horace very well 
 observes, ridiculing the Stoics, — Shall he that has stole 
 a cabbage be counted equally guilty with him that 
 has riffled the temples ? 
 
 MAXIM XXVII. 
 
 Health, in the opinion of some, is a precious thing ; 
 others rank it among the indifferent. 
 
 REFLECTION I. 
 
 The first part of this maxim is one of the principal 
 decisions of Epicurus, who pronounced health to be the 
 second happiness of life. In reality, this happy dis- 
 position of the body, supported by the tranquillity of 
 mind, which is the main and chief felicity of man, 
 affords him a perfect enjoyment of all his faculties ; 
 he speculates, he acts, and, without interrupting the 
 course of his thoughts, he reduces into practice all 
 that his sublime genius can discover. 
 
 It is a difficult matter for the mind to apply itself 
 to meditation with the same vigour and success, if 
 the body be afflicted with any distemper. It is 
 enough if it can effect in us such a disposition as shall 
 enable us to bear with patience the evil we lie under,
 
 WITH COMMENTS AND REFLECTIONS. 7T 
 
 and that it endeavours not to be infected by the dis- 
 order of our body. 
 
 Health, therefore, may justly be esteemed a pre- 
 cious and valuable thing. The greatest part of the 
 reasonable world have always looked upon it as such ; 
 and several eminent men have bestowed eulog-iums 
 on it. St. Austin (as I have observed in my Preface 
 to the Traduction of Lucretius) says, that most of 
 the wise men endeavoured to possess themselves of 
 this inestimable treasure. 
 
 The main secret, to be successful herein, is to shun 
 all excesses that can anywise alter the good habit of 
 our body ; which may be said to consist in the so 
 regulating our drinking, eating, and our exercise, 
 that no evil effect can arise therefrom. In fine, we 
 must imitate our philosopher, who, with only bread 
 and water, thought himself the happiest of men. 
 
 REFLECTION II. 
 
 The latter part of this maxim is advanced in oppo- 
 sition to the Stoics, who, the better to support their 
 disguised tenets, imagined that, after having asserted 
 that their Wise-man was of so extraordinary a cha- 
 racter, that, though he were gorged with wine, he 
 could not be drunk ; nor in love, though a mere slave 
 to that passion ; they might so bewitch the minds of 
 men, as to persuade them that health ought to be 
 esteemed an indifferent thing, because sickness, a 
 good habit of body, and all the other qualities proper 
 to it, as well as those that were not, neither consti- 
 tuted the happiness nor the felicity of man. 
 
 N
 
 78 THE MORALS OF EPICURUS, 
 
 MAXIM XXVIII. 
 
 Nature does not endow us with a consummate 
 magnanimity : that is acquirable only by the strength 
 of reason. 
 
 REFLECTIOX. 
 
 Magnanimity, according- to a learned Greek, is 
 nothing else than the faculty of the mind, which we 
 exercise with a great deal of vigour, and by means 
 whereof we persevere with fervour in a certain habit 
 that we have formed in ourselves, and which we take 
 care to preserve inviolable. 
 
 Prudence, in the opinion of Epicurus, is, as it 
 were, the soul of magnanimity : a man may have 
 strength and courage, and vet be onlv rash and fool- 
 hardy. Alexander, having scaled the wall of a town, 
 chose rather to fling: himself in the midst of his ene- 
 mies than retire. This action, which, by reason of 
 its success, has been cried up by many, would never- 
 theless have been universally blamed, had Fortune 
 forsook but a moment the darling she had taken so 
 much pleasure to raise to the highest pitch of glory. 
 This excess of valour Avoidd have been blame-worthy 
 in the meanest captain ; but it was altogether void of 
 prudence in this prince, by whose death his army 
 would have been in danger of being cut off, and all 
 his conquests lost at once. 
 
 What Leonidas, king of Sparta, did, was not less 
 bold : this prince, at the head of six hundred men, 
 went and insulted five hundred thousand in tlieir
 
 WITH COMMENTS AND REFLECTIONS. 79" 
 
 very camp. But what he did was the effect of pru- 
 dence, as well as bravery : the oracle had counselled 
 him to sacrifice himself for the good and safety of 
 his country, which was threatened with utter ruin, 
 without this victim that the gods required. His 
 men backed his undertaking with so surprising a 
 valour, that, having scattered death wherever they 
 came, he at last perished with them, being overpow- 
 ered by the number of the enemy, that (Nature being 
 tired) they could no longer continue the slaughter 
 of. 
 
 So that, notwithstanding. Nature may be said to 
 have given us the first principles of this heroic virtue, 
 — yet she would still be unknown, had we not been 
 taught, by reason and reflection, — and if prudence did 
 not make it plain, — that her most glorious achieve- 
 ments depend entirely on the exactness of her con- 
 duct. 
 
 MAXIM XXIX. 
 
 Friendship ought to be contracted for the utility 
 we expect therefrom : as we cultivate the earth, that 
 we may reap the benefit of its fertility. This noble 
 habit is fomented and upheld by the natural good 
 offices of the parties, and the satisfaction they take 
 in each other. 
 
 REFLECTION. 
 
 Some people have reproached Epicurus with the 
 imperfection of his character of friendship, since it 
 
 n2
 
 80 THE MORALS OP EPICURUS, 
 
 was so selfish; but, as it was either mahce or igno- 
 rance that gave birth to these reproaches, as well as 
 the invectives of the Stoics, — and so many others who 
 l;^ave loaded this great man and his followers with 
 groundless charges, it has always been with little or 
 no success. 
 
 The last part of this maxim justifies our philoso- 
 pher, and explains his opinion : he will have friend- 
 ship have in view the proper satisfaction of the party ; 
 because, all those who have been sensible of this noble 
 transport have, by experience, found, that it reflects 
 on him that is the object thereof: or, as an excellent 
 Greek author has it, " True friends find in them- 
 selves, by the charms of their mutual union, all that 
 can be hoped for most delightful in pleasure." 
 
 Admit, nevertheless, that what Seneca puts in Epi- 
 curus' mouth were true, and that he sought a friend, — 
 that he might be assisted by him upon occasion ; as 
 in sickness, poverty, or the horror of a prison or dun- 
 geon. In all likelihood, this Stoic will not disagree, 
 that, among the other virtues that our philosopher 
 cherished and practised, prudence would hold the 
 first place ; and so, by consequence, he would be 
 obliged to the exercise of justice ; and, being just, 
 he would find a necessity of rendering his friend the 
 same good offices, since we shall see in the sequel 
 of this work, that he will have us ready to undergo 
 death itself for our friend, if occasion require it. 
 
 Does he not express himself clearly in this maxim, 
 when he says. That the true bond of this union de- 
 pends on the pleasure we taste therein, and the man- 
 ner we commimicate the sweetness of our disposition ?
 
 WITH COMMENTS AND REFLECTIONS. 81 
 
 and that we must love our friend sincerely, if we 
 expect a reciprocal tenderness from him ; as one of 
 his followers utters himself, in Seneca, — Will you 
 have an innocent philter, (says he,) — love, and you 
 shall be loved. 
 
 MAXIM XXX. 
 
 There are two sorts of felicities ; the one is every- 
 way complete and perfect, and as such belongs only 
 to God, and it is always uniform, not being capable of 
 increase or diminution : the other is of an inferior 
 kind, such as man's, which ever partakes of the more 
 or the less. 
 
 REFLECTION, 
 
 Epicurus, whose modesty is constantly in oppo- 
 sition to the pride of the Stoics, is perpetually in war 
 with their vanity ; he can by no means comprehend 
 how the transitory and uncertain happiness of this life 
 can be reasonably esteemed of the first kind, since 
 tliat supreme felicity, according to Cicero, implies in 
 itself a plenitude of all sorts of blessings, and is out of 
 all possibility of being disturbed or interrupted. He 
 cannot be satisfied with the chimera of their ideas ; 
 and, without blasphemously placing his sage (as they 
 do) above the Deity, he freely acknowledges, that the 
 calm and tranquillity of this life, consists in the being 
 less ruffled and disquieted than the rest of mankind.
 
 82 • THE MORALS OF EPICURUS. 
 
 MAXIM XXXI. 
 
 The Wise-man may admit of statues being erected , 
 to him in public places ; but, he shall not covet, nor 
 be ambitious of those honours. 
 
 REFLECTION. 
 
 As Epicurus' sage cannot be disturbed by the ma- 
 lice, hatred, or envy, of man, so neither can he be 
 touched with any vanity or pride from the advantages 
 this maxim mentions; and, if he labours to preserve 
 an unsullied reputation, it is only in order to avoid 
 contempt ; so that, without having the least inclina- 
 tion for those marks of honour, — -such as statues, &c. 
 — he shall acquiesce, at the same time, in the will of 
 them who are disposed to give him those distinguish- 
 ing tokens of veneration and esteem. Thus, we see, 
 that, though he gives leave in his last will and testa- , 
 ment to celebrate his birth-day, yet he is wholly ne- 
 gligent of that pride and vanity other philosophers 
 have been infected with, viz. — tombs and monu- 
 ments, to procure them respect from posterity. 
 
 MAXIM XXXII. 
 
 IS one but the Wise-man can speak with exactness 
 concerning music or poetry.
 
 WITH COMMENTS AND REFLECTIONS. 83 
 
 REFLECTION I. 
 
 Plutarch says, That Epicurus advised those 
 princes who were lovers of learning, not to suffer 
 any other discourse in their merriments and feasts 
 than those concerning war and military actions,— 
 and rather to tolerate an insipid pleasantry, than to 
 canvass questions relating to poetry and music. A'Miat 
 faith can be given to this philosopher, who was a 
 declared enemy of Epicurus, — or to any of the other 
 malicious impugners of his sect, after he is found to 
 charge him falsely with placing the supreme or 
 sovereign good of life in the beastly pleasures of 
 brutes ; although, they very well knew, that he fixed 
 his summum bonum in an undisturbed state of mind, 
 and indolency of body ? 
 
 It is, perhaps, on the authority of this passage, 
 that Gassendiis pretends, that Epicurus' Wise-man 
 ought not to talk of music and poetry, but in an un- 
 common way, and not like the vulgar, (who seem to 
 be delighted with these sciences ;) and that, for this 
 reason, the one' corrupts the manners, and the other 
 is of no utility. 
 
 ^ There is no doubt to be made, but Epicurus had 
 more honourable thoughts of these fine arts : the first 
 has something in it worthy admiration ; but it is very 
 hard, according to Cassiodorus, to be a perfect master 
 thereof. It is but reading the letter this learned 
 man writes to Boetius, in the name of king Thco- 
 doricus, to be convinced of the nece^ssity of music : 
 Jt is she (says he) that causes the harmony of our
 
 84 THE MORALS OF EPICURUS, 
 
 thoughts, the beauty of our discourse, and the ex- 
 actness of our motions ; vvlicn her agreeable sounds 
 reach the ear, the mouth opens itself to sing, she 
 moves the very soul by the cadence of her impulses, 
 and informs the hearing ; which makes her prove a 
 laborious pleasure, by the constant application she 
 requires. 
 
 AMien she is set out with her charms, she exercises 
 an absolute power over our senses ; she suppresses all 
 our thoughts, to cause in us a pleasing attention ; she 
 cheers up a dangerous sadness, she softens the fierce 
 temper, changes cruelty into mildness ; she stirs up 
 braverv in the timorous, and awakens the lanouishins: 
 indifferency ; she banishes our commotions, brings to 
 his duty him whom a criminal love had enslaved, 
 and roots out of the mind that uneasy disposition 
 that opposed itself to the acts of reason ; she cancels 
 hatred, and, by a happy method of curing, makes use 
 of no other remedy to extirpate our passions than 
 the softness of the pleasure she inspires. 
 
 David, by the ravishing melody of his harp, drove 
 away the evil spirits that possessed Saul : and, so far is 
 she from vitiating the inclinations, that Plato would 
 have children learn, by the means of music, the dif- 
 ferent affections of the soul, that they might distin- 
 guish what appeared good, from that which seemed 
 evil ; and that, conforming their actions to the sounds 
 that pleased their ear, they escaped ill habits, which 
 were represented by those which displeased them; 
 and thus, by this symphony, they might be allured 
 to the path of virtue. 
 
 It is, therefore, very reasonable to think, that the 
 2
 
 WITH COMMENTS AND REPLECTIONS. 8-J 
 
 Wise-man alone is able to speak of music, in a man- 
 ner suitable to the excellency of the art ; all the ancient 
 philosophers have spoken concerning it. St. Austin 
 did not think it unworthy his pen to write about it ; 
 and Epicurus himself (as Diogenes Laertius reports) 
 has left a treatise of it- 
 
 REFLECTION 11; 
 
 The passage out of Plutarch, which we quoted in 
 the preceding rellection, made Coelius Rodiginus say, 
 — and, since him, Gassendus, That Epicurus and his 
 followers had little or no esteem for poetry, because 
 it M^as so far from contributing in any wise to the 
 mending of our manners, that, in their opinion, it 
 was prejudicial to them. 
 
 This proceeded from their not rightly understand- 
 ing our philosopher, and those of his sect who were 
 of Plato's sentiment ; who tells us, That this line 
 art is either useful or pernicious, according to the use 
 that is made of it. It was the advice of this Wise- 
 man to banish poets out of a statQ \vhen they flatter 
 the irregularity of the passions ; when they promote 
 vice by their lascivious and lewd writings, as Archi- 
 locus did, whose poems were stuffed with filthy ex- 
 pressions ; and, at the same time, so satyrical, that he 
 was the cause of Licambus strangling himself. But, 
 when they give God the honour that is due to him, 
 as Orpheus did ; when they set down rules for the 
 well-governing a state, and reforming our manners, 
 as Homer has done ; when they set out virtue with all 
 its graces and cliarms, and that, by the force of their 
 verse, they inspire a honor for vice, like Virgil and
 
 86 THE MORALS OF EPICURUS, 
 
 Horace, and several others ; that they comfort us in 
 our misfortunes, after the example of Boetius ; that 
 they excite valour, as Tyrteus, Avho procured the 
 Lacedemonians a victory by the power of his heroic 
 muse ; or, that they treat of nature, as Empedocles, 
 Lucretius, and several other philosophers, have done, 
 who have made use of this fine art in unfolding their 
 profound knowledge : then, to discourage them, would 
 be depriving mankind of the most powerful means 
 of gaining an universal knowledge of things, and im- 
 proving itself in the practice of the most excellent 
 virtues. 
 
 In a word,— poetry is a noble fury, that partakes of 
 nothing that is mortal ; it ravishes and carries away 
 the soul ; it is an abstraction of the mind, that disen- 
 gages it from matter, to take a glorious flight ; it is 
 a generous sally, that has its rules and measures ; it 
 is, in fine, a harmony that delights the ear, stirs up 
 the imagination, and feeds the mind ; it persuades 
 with pleasure, teaches with success, and imprints in 
 our memory, by its agreeable accents, the solidity of 
 subjects. 
 
 MAXIM XXXIIL 
 
 He shall not read poetic fictions, neither shall he 
 compose any. 
 
 REFLECTION. 
 
 Epicurus, here, is to be understood, of those works 
 tjiat are altogether the effect of the imagination, and
 
 WITH COMMENTS AND REFLECTIONS. 8T 
 
 contain nothing in them that is solid. One may 
 compare their matter to wind shut up in the clouds, 
 and tiieir expressions to the bright assemblage of the 
 same clouds ; that, at best, only gratify the eye, or 
 else discharge a disagreeable noise when they break. 
 Our philosopher does not here mean those poems 
 that explain the secrets of physic, or the utility of 
 morals ; he must then have blamed all those illus- 
 trious writers in ancient times — Orpheus, Museus, 
 Hesiodus, Homer, Pythagoras, Empedocles, and 
 many others, who had written in verse, not only trea- 
 tises concerning nature, but also divinity : and, it is 
 not likely, that Lucretius, who understood very well 
 Epicurus' sentiments, should have written a poem 
 contrary to the maxims of him whom he looked upon 
 to be something more than man. 
 
 MAXIM XXXIV. 
 
 A man may be more or less wise. 
 
 REFLECTION. 
 
 This opinion agrees not only with Plato's, Aris- 
 totle's, and all the philosophers, but indeed with that 
 of the whole world in general ; and, as Epicurus has 
 asserted in one of his Maxims, that there is a disparity 
 in crimes, so here he gives us to understand, that 
 there are different degrees of perfection. 
 
 The Stoics, who sought to distinguish themselves 
 by the oddness of their dogmata, and their manner 
 
 o2
 
 88 THE MORALS OF EPICURUS, 
 
 of proving them, were of a contrary opinion : the 
 stealing a flo\Aer passed among them for a crime as 
 black as that of sacrilege ; and the smallest virtues, 
 among them, were thought to partake of something 
 heroic. Wherefore, Plutarch jeers a Stoic after this 
 agreeable manner : Shall we extol a man (says this 
 philosopher) for having extended his finger stoutly ; 
 for having withstood the caresses of an old woman ; 
 for having endured manfully the stinging of a fly ; in 
 short, for having heard with patience, that three are 
 not four? is it not (says he) ridiculous, to cry up 
 these trifles for worthy actions ? 
 
 If we make a parallel between him that suffiBrs the 
 stinging of a fly, and the hero ; if we put upon the 
 level, the preserving chastity in reference to an old 
 woman, and the maintaining that virtue, when at- 
 tacked by the powerful charms and allurements of a 
 tempting beauty, one would think it were indiflerent 
 on what account we commended and praised the 
 wise. 
 
 To speak the truth, — ought we not to reprove the 
 Stoics, as Philemon did a certain person : Thou (says 
 he) that livest among men, dost thou talk like a 
 man ? Is not the manner of reasoning of these proud, 
 though ridiculous, philosophers altogether absurd? 
 is there any equality to be found in the economy of 
 Nature? The difference in constitutions and tempers 
 sufllciently shows, that all things, depending thereon, 
 m«st be likewise diflerent; — wisdom cannot be the 
 same in all : to acquire it, there must be inclination, 
 judgment, and memory ; and all these things being 
 formed of parts, better or worse disposed. Is it
 
 WITH COMMENTS ANt) REFLECTIONS. 89 
 
 not plain, that what results from these so different 
 constitutions, must also be different and unequal? 
 
 Epicurus has a due value for that sublime wisdom 
 that is arrived to its utmost perfection ; but, as he 
 asserts that happiness ought to b^e the final end of all 
 the actions of man's life, and that t^mi felicity abso- 
 lutely does consist in the tranquillity of his mind, and 
 a healthful state of body ; it is not so material, whe- 
 ther one be wiser than another, provided this last 
 finds, in the character of his mind, and in the dis- 
 position of his body, wherewithal to render his life 
 happy. 
 
 MAXIM XXXV. 
 
 The Wise-man shall obey his prince, when there 
 shall be occasion. 
 
 REFLECTION. 
 
 A Pythagorean philosopher says, that the prince is 
 obliged to do three things : to command well, distribute 
 justice, and worship Cod : so that, on his strictly 
 performing these three things, the subject is obliged 
 to obey his commands, submit to his decrees, and 
 imitate his piety; he is the representative of the Al- 
 mighty, the soul and living law of his dominions ; he 
 punishes the guilty, rewards the virtuous ; he governs 
 all ; and our lives, that he preserves and protects, de- 
 pends on him. 
 
 The doctrine of this Pythagorean was not believed 
 nor acknowledged in the independant states of Greece ;
 
 90 THE MORALS OF EPICURUS. 
 
 yet there can be no question that, where a prince does 
 command well, his subjects will feel themselves bound 
 to obey ; where a prince does distribute justice with- 
 out favour and partiality, his subjects will submit to 
 his decrees ; where a prince worships God earnestly 
 and sincerely, his subjects will be religiously dis- 
 posed, — because true devotion in a king is always a 
 virtue. But, as to his being the representative of the 
 Almighty, we must recollect that God gave the He- 
 brews, his chosen people, kings in his wrath ; and 
 those days of superstition have fled away in which it 
 was believed that the chief of banditti, who in time 
 became the chief of a nation under the title of king, 
 was such lie jure ilivino. 
 
 MAXIM XXXVI. 
 
 He shall rejoice with him who, having gone astray, 
 shall return to the path of virtue.* 
 
 REFLECTION. 
 
 This maxim is quite contrary to the implacable 
 hard-heartedness of the Stoic, who would not allow 
 the smallest faults, nor entertain the least compassion 
 or tenderness for his neighbour who had erred. 
 
 Epicurus, whose moral is altogether reasonable, 
 enjoins this indulgence, so absolutely necessary for 
 civil society, without which all would be in a strange 
 
 * Vide Luke, chap. xv. 11, of Ihe Prodigal Son;— John, viii. S, 
 the Woman taken m Adultery. 
 3
 
 ■^^ITH COMMENTS AND REFlEGtlONS. 91 
 
 confusion. The fiailty of man is such as will not 
 permit him to be infallible, — the weakness of his 
 condition deprives him of that blessing. 
 
 Besides, how useful a thing is it to return to wis- 
 dom ? Our pliilosoplier, as Seneca reports, is of this 
 opinion, by reason that this amendment and return 
 seem to be the work of a due reflection, which 
 prompts us to make an effort to overcome our vices ; 
 and that the knowledge of our guilt is the beginning 
 of our conversion. This maxim is conformable to the 
 Holy Scriptures, and the apostle requires we should 
 have a mutual indulgence for each other's failings, 
 and that we foi-give each other freely. 
 
 MAXIM XXXVII. 
 
 He may keep a school, provided the vulgar sort be 
 not admitted to it. 
 
 REFLECTION. 
 
 Epicurus allows the Wise-man to teach and in- 
 struct, with this restriction, — that he shall not pro- 
 miscuously communicate his discoveries, but only to 
 such as are worthy the knowledge of them. He thinks 
 the common people have none of the qualities requi- 
 site for tliis satisfaction of the mind : their lenity, the 
 unaccountableness of their temper, and their educa- 
 tion, will not afford them the patience and apprehen- 
 sion that are necessary for learning ; so that (as Horace 
 says) they ought to be kept at a distance, and ex- 
 cluded, jiijiiij c-::: .
 
 92 THE MORALS OF EPICURUS, 
 
 Pythagoras, and several other philosophers, had 
 none but chosen scholars, whose dispositions gave 
 reason to hope for success in their studies. Socrates, 
 in Xenophon, is of the same sentiment. " He that 
 observes," sajs he, " a man endowed with an excel- 
 lent natural genius, shall labour to cultivate and 
 improve it by the knowledge of arts and sciences : 
 and I must own (says this wise Greek) that I feel an 
 unspeakable pleasure when I impart to my friends the 
 fruits of my meditations. 
 
 MAXIM XXX\ III. 
 
 He may read some of his writings to tile people : 
 but he shall not do this of his own motion, but be- 
 cause it is desired. 
 
 REFLECTION. 
 
 We ou2:ht not to admit to the mvsterv of the 
 sciences, in Seneca's opinion, but only them that are 
 capable of benefiting thereby. But Epicurus, though 
 he does not approve of the common people for learn- 
 ing, yet, if it should happen that any of that sort 
 should desire the Wise-man to read to them some of 
 his works, he would have him comply with them, 
 because it discovers a willingness to learn, and that 
 a strong inclination may sometimes prove successful. 
 But then he must choose such a subject as is suitable to 
 the capacity of his auditory, and without entertaining
 
 WITH COMMENTS AND REFLECTIONS. 93 
 
 them with th-^ secrets of nature, which requires a 
 nobler genius : instruct them how to mend their 
 lives, and reform their manners. 
 
 MAXIM XXXIX. 
 
 He shall be steady in his opinion, and not wavering 
 and doubtful in every thing. 
 
 REFLECTION. 
 
 This maxim of Epicurus seems to be levelled at 
 the Pyrrhonians, who doubted of every, thing. Our 
 philosopher will have it, that some things are so set- 
 tled and determined, and so self-evident, that there 
 is no room left to doubt concerning them; as, for 
 instance, that vacuity is impalpable , that the atom 
 is solid and eternal : but then he grants, there are 
 others again that cannot be accounted for with the 
 same certainty ; as, for example, the bigness of the 
 sun. 
 
 Is it possible to attain to wisdom in an endless un- 
 certainty? If we doubt of all things, it is impossible 
 to determine and settle in what consists the happiness 
 of life ; and, if that cannot be fixed, there can be no 
 such thing as wisdom. 
 
 The Pyrrhonian does not know whether he is a 
 wise man or a fool ; whether he is learned or igno- 
 rant; though he lives on little, he dare not affirm 
 that he is temperate. The Epicurean philosopher is 
 more judicious : he assures us, without hesitation, that 
 tlie subduing of our passions, and keeping them 
 
 p
 
 94 THE MORALS OF EPICURUS, 
 
 under, causes titinquillity of mind ; he enjoys with plea- 
 sure this calm and quiet state, which he experiences 
 to be such ; he addicts himself to virtue, that he 
 may be happy, and pronounces, with certainty, that 
 life cannot be happy without prudence, justice, and 
 honesty. 
 
 MAXIM XL. 
 
 He shall enjoy the same tranquillity in his sleep a« 
 when awake. 
 
 REFLECTION. 
 
 Lucretius and Petronius inform us, that Epicurus 
 laughed at dreams, looking upon them to have their 
 cause in ourselves, and that they generally were such 
 as were suitable to the disturbed or quiet state of 
 our mind : and, as our philosopher required that his 
 Wise-man should procure to himself a settled tran- 
 quillity from a constant habit of wisdom, he reason- 
 ably inferred that, that once attained, he would 
 enjoy the same cahii and quiet in his sleep as while 
 awake. 
 
 Now, he that lives conformably to the dictates of 
 reason and prudence, — he whose mind is filled with 
 thoughts capable of satisfying it, and who may 
 be said almost, during the suspension of his senses, 
 to reflect on himself, — cannot be supposed to have in 
 his imagination any other than useful and agreeable 
 ideas. And, as all his speculations are in quest after 
 truth, he partakes during his sleep of the plea-
 
 WITH COMMENTS AND REFLECTIONS. 95 
 
 ftiire it inspires ; so that none of those things that 
 alarm the wicked, or perplex the ignorant, disturb 
 the quietness of his repose : he sleeps without fear, 
 (as Solomon says,) and relishes his rest after a deli- 
 cious manner. 
 
 The great secret to avoid being molested with 
 these chimerical bugbears, which may sometimes 
 triumph over our weakness, is, in Plato's opinion, 
 not to sleep more than is necessary to enable the 
 mind to pursue its studies. The time that passes in 
 that state is a kind of death : hence, he that will live 
 as a man ought who knows how to live, and who 
 aspires to wisdom, ought to be careful not to sleep to 
 excess, since it blunts the faculties of the soul. 
 
 MAXIM XLI. 
 
 If occasion require it, he shall suifer death for 
 his friend. 
 
 REFLECTION. 
 
 Could Epicurus better conclude the qualities which 
 were to form his Wise-man, than by this heroic dis» 
 position to suffer death, if necessary, to save his 
 friend's life] Our philosopher will not allow us to 
 shorten our days, how miserable soever we may be, 
 because it is not in the power of affliction to disturb 
 the quiet state we have procured ourselves by the 
 study of wisdom. 
 
 We are above aU accidents, because that wisdom 
 
 p2
 
 96 THE MORALS OF EPICUUUS, 
 
 has bestowed all virtues on us, the harmony of 
 which renders life pleasant and delightful to us ; 
 yet, though the Sage enjoys a profound inward 
 peace, which is the greatest blessing life affords, 
 Epicurus requires him to quit both the one and the 
 other, to give his friend that undeniable proof of his 
 affection. 
 
 It was this generous disposition that inspired two 
 illustrious Romans to die for Caius Gracchus. — 
 Friendship made them stop upon a bridge, and op- 
 pose the multitude of enemies that were pursuing 
 that tribune : it animated them with so noble a cou- 
 rao'e, that the life of their friend was in safety as 
 long as their strength enabled them to light in his 
 defence ; and, if he lost it at last, it was because 
 they lost theirs by a thousand wounds, w^hich were as 
 many testimonials of their fidelity to him. 
 
 I cannot here forbear blamino; once more the ma- 
 licious interpretation which the Stoics have given 
 that maxim, wherein Epicurus will have us cultivate 
 friendship as we do the earth, with relation to our- 
 selves ; though I have sufficiently answered it in the 
 reflection I made thereon. 
 
 Does not Torquatos, one of Epicurus' followers, 
 sufficiently declare, in Cicero, that our philosopher 
 acknowledged it to be the finest present Wisdom 
 could bestow on us 1 — that it was she that completed 
 all our pleasures ; and that he had not only given it 
 great encomiums, but had constantly practised it as 
 long as he lived ? 
 
 He assures us, that she is the spring from whence 
 we, as well as our friends, must expect all that is
 
 WITH COMMENTS AND REFLECTIONS. 97 
 
 delightful ; and that it cannot be lasting, unless we 
 love our friends as well as ourselves : and that their 
 afflictions and uneasiness should affect us as much 
 as our own ; and their good fortune and happiness 
 afford us as much pleasure and satisfaction as th$ 
 blessings we actually enjoy ourselves. 
 
 A LETTER FROM EPICURUS 
 
 TO MENECEUS. 
 
 Youth is no obstacle to the study of philosophy: 
 we should not defer acquiring its knowledge ; nei- 
 ther ought we to be ashamed to consecrate our later 
 years to the labour of speculation. Man has no time 
 limited for learning, and ought never to want strength 
 to cure his mind of all the evils that afflict it. — 
 So that he that excuses his neo^lect, bv his havino- 
 let slip the precious moments that would have guided 
 him to this discovery, argues no better than he that 
 will not labour to lay the storm of his passions, nor 
 withdraw himself from the misfortunes of life, that 
 he may live more quietly and happily, because he 
 pretends that the time proper for this laborious work 
 is either not yet come, or else is elapsed and irreco- 
 verably lost. Youth, then, must get the start of the 
 strength of their mind ; and the aged must retrieve 
 as much of it as they can, to addict themselves to 
 philosophy. The one should use this effort, that, 
 arriving insensibly to the term prescribed to his days,
 
 98 THE MORALS OF EPICURUS, 
 
 he may persevere in the virtuous habit he has ac- 
 quired: the other, that, laden as he is with years, he 
 may know that his mind has all the resolution of 
 youth, to place him above all the events of fortune, 
 and to make him behold with intrepidity all that can 
 alarm him in the speculation of futurity, to which he 
 is so nigh. 
 
 REFLECTION I. 
 
 The study of philosophy, in the opinion of Por- 
 phyrins, should commence with the knowledge of 
 ourselves. This fine discovery prepares and qualifies 
 us to speculate with more ease on the universe, or com- 
 prehensive whole. The oracle required that we should 
 study ourselves before we enter upon any other re- 
 flection. It is not only that we may become philo- 
 sophers, but attain wisdom, (which is the only road 
 to happiness, and that we may enjoy that blessed 
 state,) that it is necessary we should know ourselves 
 before we strive to penetrate into the secrets of 
 philosophy. 
 
 This necessary application should be the drift and 
 aim of all men ; because philosophy is agreeable to all 
 times, and proper for all ages. But it is a most benign 
 influence that inclines youth thereto ; it is the means 
 of forming habits which nothing can root out ; it is 
 receiving indelible impressions ; it is, in fine, accord- 
 ing to Plato, labouring with a prospect of success, 
 — for we are easily persuaded in our youth, and Ave 
 may make a considerable progress. Nature is yet 
 pliant in these beginnings ; we may pull away what i* 
 rude and imperfect, and sow the seeds of those better 
 
 4
 
 WITH COMMENTS AND REFLECTIONS. 99 
 
 inclinations which produce the cahii of the mind: 
 study and labour sometimes work more miracles than 
 this mistress of the universe. 
 
 We should, therefore, take care not to let slip such 
 precious moments ; and, although philosophy deters 
 at first by its many difficulties, we must not be dis- 
 couraged, but overcome them by the assiduity of our 
 study and labour. 
 
 Cleanthes, who was famous for his skill at boxin^r, 
 and whose mind was so gross and heavy that ho 
 valued nothing but the strength of his body, had no 
 sooner heard Zeno the philosopher, than he thought 
 of employing his time more profitably ; and he con- 
 ceived hopes that he might force his genius by dint 
 of labour. His attempts proved successful ; for he 
 not only got the better of his rough nature, but of 
 poverty too : — to effect this, he drew water in the 
 night, that he might have wherewith to subsist in 
 the day, and mind his studies. He was so deserving 
 afterwards, that he was tutor to King Antigonus, 
 and master to Crysippus the philosopher. 
 
 " Nothing," says Euripides, " is more shameful 
 to a young man than to shun labour, vs hen it is to be 
 recompensed with so noble a reward as that of living 
 without trouble or disturbance. 
 
 REFLECTION II. 
 
 It is never too late to begin to live, although we 
 have spent our youth idly and unprofitably. It is a 
 great matter to know one's faults, even in a declining 
 age : it is then we have most need of the counsels of 
 philosophy, to enable us to undergo the infirmities
 
 lOO THE MORALS OP EPICURUS, 
 
 Avhich are inseparable from old age ; and the proxi- 
 mity of death requires that we should fortify ourselves 
 against its terrors. 
 
 " Can there be any thing so blame-worthy," says 
 Seneca, " as a man that has no other testimonial of 
 his having lived, than barely that of old age? The 
 remembrance of his youth shall render his present 
 state very uneasy to him : he shall reflect, with euA^, 
 on those pleasures he can no longer relish ; his diseases 
 make him impatient ; he can now no longer walk, 
 but is forced to creep along, almost after the manner 
 of reptiles, — his body is so broken and decayed ; his 
 mind is in the same condition through ignorance, — > 
 iiisomucii, that, having become insupportable to him- 
 seli", he disgusts every-body else." 
 
 Happy is he who, against so many mischiefs, 
 seeks in his study for a remedy that alone can take 
 away their bitterness ; — who repents his neglecting 
 discoveries so useful and necessary, and applies 
 liimself thereto in earnest, that he may be able to die 
 with more constancy than he had lived. 
 
 It is of great importance to an old man to be a 
 philosopher ; for, as Macrobius observes, it is natural 
 to that age to delight in being asked questions, and 
 talking much ; and, when men speak such things as 
 are accompanied with prudence and wisdom, they 
 cannot but be very useful, — because they, who 
 have grown grey in speculation and practice, make 
 deep impressions by their authority. They are, more- 
 over, illustrious examples of constancy and intrepi- 
 dity ; the capriciousness of fortune cannot alarm 
 them ; in fine, nothing can move or disturb them.
 
 WITH COMMENTS AND REFLECTIONS. 101 
 
 " What do you pretend to do?" say Solon's friends 
 to him : — ■" yield to the times ; do not offer to oppose 
 Pisistratus ; it would be courting your ruin : what 
 help and assistance have you to oppose his tyranny]'* 
 — " My old age ;" answered that wise legislator. 
 — Did not this answer contain an excellent moral } 
 was it not as much as to say, — I have spent my life in 
 the study of philosophy ; it has afforded me tranquil- 
 lity to my mind, infallible remedies against fear, and 
 made death indifferent to me. It is true the tyrant- 
 may take away my life ; and I am by nature on tha 
 brink of losing it. 
 
 TEXT. 
 
 Meditate then frequently, dear Meneceus, and 
 omit nothing that can anywise contribute to your 
 felicity. Happy is he who has settled himself in this 
 blessed state of tranquillity : he has nothing left to 
 wish or desire, since he is satisfied with what he 
 possesses ; and, if he has not yet raised himself to 
 this high degree of excellency and perfection, he 
 must use his utmost endeavours to attain it. Follow, 
 theii, the precepts I have so often given you ; reduce 
 them into practice ; let them be the constant subjects 
 of your reflections : for I am convinced you will find 
 in them an exact rule for the guidance of your 
 morals. 
 
 REFLECTION. 
 
 Epicurus valued the knowledge of things and the 
 penetrating into nature, no otherwise than as they 
 contributed to the conduct of our morals ; and, if he
 
 \0'2 THE MORALS OF EPICURUS, 
 
 required one should be a good naturalist, it was in 
 order to become a moral philosopher. 
 
 He will have us often reflect, what are the princi- 
 ples of things, — how they are formed, — and after what 
 manner their resolution is wrought ; to the end we 
 may be informed of all those things that can any- 
 ways alarm us : it is on this depends the happiness 
 or unhappiness of our life, because the ignorance of 
 these things creates disorder and confusion in our 
 mind. 
 
 The counsel of this philosopher is admirable ; for 
 we should frequently meditate, — but it ought not to 
 be on what means we shall use to heap up vast 
 riches, how we shall raise ourselves to dignities and 
 honours, or gratify our hatred and revenge, — but 
 how we shall correct the violence of our temper, 
 amend our vicious inclinations, and submit to our 
 reason the fury or w eakness of our passions. 
 
 TEXT. 
 
 ^' The foundation on which you ought to build all 
 your maxims must be the thought of the immortality 
 and happy state of the gods. This sentiment is 
 conformable to the opinion that has spread itself 
 amongst the generality of men ; but then you must 
 have a care that, when you define the Deity, you do 
 not give him any attribute that shall profane the 
 grandeur of his essence, by diminishing his eternity 
 or supreme felicity. Let your mind soar as high as 
 Sou please concerning this divine Being, provided 
 that his immortality and beatitude receive no impair 
 therefrom.
 
 WITH COMMENTS AND REFLECTIONS. 103 
 
 That there are gods, is a knowledge consecrated 
 to posterity; but their existence is quite different 
 from that which they find in the imaginations of men. 
 He, then, is not to be counted a rash impious wretch 
 who banishes that crowd of divinities to which the 
 ignorant and simple people pay their homage ; but 
 rather he that will fasten on these divine beings the 
 ridiculous sentiments of the vulgar. Wliatever the 
 greatest part of these weak minds advance concern- 
 ing their knowledge herein, docs not proceed from 
 any previous notion that can be made use of for an 
 invincible proof, but only from mere prejudice. 
 
 Wliat likelihood is there that the Gods, according 
 to the common opinion, should busy themselves 
 -about punishing the guilty and rewarding the good, 
 who, constantly practising all the virtues that are 
 peculiar to an excellent nature, will have those divi- 
 nities resemble them, and imagine that whatever is 
 not conformable to their mortal habits is very remote 
 from the divine nature ? 
 
 REFLECTION. 
 
 I have observed, in my remarks on the translation 
 of the first book of Lucretius, and in those on the 
 fifth, that Epicurus' weakness was such as to own d 
 plurality of gods, though he M^as inwardly convinced 
 of the contrary opinion : The death of Socrates, and 
 the fear with which the Athenians inspired Epicurus, 
 made him speak after this manner. 
 
 Cicero takes notice of this opinion : — " He has," 
 says he, " utterly destroyed ail the footsteps of re- 
 ligion, when he deprives the Deity of the power of 
 
 q2
 
 104 THE MORALS OF EPICURUS, 
 
 making mortals feel the effect of their goodness : he 
 acknowledges his nature to be excellent, and at the 
 same time refuses him the advantage of being bene- 
 ficent and ready to assist us. Is not that stripping 
 him of all that properly constitutes the nature of a 
 Being infinitely good? 
 
 TEXT, 
 
 Accustom yourself to think tlxat death is nothing 
 in reference to us, since pain and pleasure depend 
 upon the sense, and that she is nothing else but the 
 privation of that same sense. 
 
 It is a fine discovery that can convince the mind 
 that death does not any way concern us : it is a 
 happy means to pass this mortal life in the greatest 
 tranquillity, without troubling ourselves with the 
 uncertainty of the future, and w ithout flattering our- 
 selves with the hopes of immortality. 
 
 In effect, to live can be no unhappiness to him 
 who is once thoroughly persuaded that the time of 
 his dissolution is attended with no evil. It is ridi- 
 culous to observe the fear we have of death : not 
 that the sight of it, in the instant it strikes us, gives 
 us any disturbance, but because that, during the 
 uncertain expectation of its stroke, the mind gives 
 itself over to sadness and melancholy. Is it possible 
 that, at the presence of a thing not able to excite any 
 trouble or disturbance in us, we should afflict and 
 torment ourselves so excessively with the simple 
 thought of its draw ing nigh ? 
 
 Death, once more, that seems to be the most for- 
 midable of all evils, is but a mere chimera, because
 
 WITH COMMENTS AND REFLECTIONS. 105 
 
 it is nothing at all while life remains ; and, when it 
 takes place, life ceases : so that it cannot be said to 
 exercise any power over the living or the dead ; 
 those not being as yet sensible of its empire, and 
 these, that no longer exist, are sheltered from its 
 attacks. 
 
 REFLECTION. 
 
 " Those," says Plato, " that continually think of 
 death are true philosophers ; theyare the only persons 
 who do not fear it." If the character of a wholesome 
 philosophy consist in application to the study of 
 this last moment, it is the indispensable duty of a 
 Christian. 
 
 To speak the truth, — this meditation is so absolutely 
 necessary, that it is impossible to live well without the 
 reflections it inspires : it is by the contemplation of 
 death, we overcome the sentiments pf hatred and re- 
 venge ; that we lay aside the insatiable greediness of 
 heaping up riches ; that we stop the impetuous fury of 
 an unjust anger ; and that all the passions find a pro- 
 per remedy to their respective excesses. It is a saying 
 of one of the ancients, That we should always remind 
 the vicious of this last hour, which finishes their 
 course ; for then man beholds his crimes with horror, 
 he is tormented with the remorse * they cause ; it is 
 then he wishes, even at the expence of what is most 
 dear to him, that he had hved after so innocent a 
 manner that he had no occasion for repentance : it is 
 not the loss of the light we should fear, nor that of 
 the pleasures which most flatter us ; the very pain 
 that we endure at the instant of the dissolution of so 
 3
 
 106 THE MORALS OF EPICURUS, 
 
 many different parts that compose our whole, ought 
 not to terrify us. 
 
 Tliis frightful futurity ought to fill us with horror. 
 The secret to expect death with firmness, is to lead 
 a i>ood and virtuous life : it is dreadful only by its 
 consequences ; and, when it is an absolute necessity 
 to undergo its laws, we must not perplex ourselves 
 with the manner how it executes them : let a fever, 
 the gout, an apoplexy, torments, racks, or a public 
 execution, make the separation of our soul and body, 
 none of these misfortunes should startle or affright 
 us ; but we ought to tremble when we reflect on the 
 future state where death fixes us. 
 
 TEXT. 
 
 Vulgar souls are apt to wish they could decline 
 death, because they consider it as the greatest of 
 evils : they are often tortured, too, by the unwilling- 
 ness they find in themselves to forsake the pleasures 
 it deprives them of, and by the thoughts they have 
 of the eternal inaction it brings upon them. It is 
 without reason they afflict themselves at their living 
 no longer, since the loss of our life hinders us from 
 being sensible that our ceasing to be implies in itself 
 any thing of evil ," and, as we do not choose our food 
 by its quantity, but from its goodness, so the number 
 of years does not make the happiness of our life, but 
 it is the manner of passing it that causes aU its 
 pleasure.
 
 WITH COMMENTS AND REFLECTIONS. lOT 
 
 REFLECTION. 
 
 Men of mean souls are apt to be afraid of death, 
 and shun it cowardly : it was that which made Paulus 
 ^milius despise Perseus, king of Macedonia, who 
 begged his life of this consul with an effeminate 
 weakness, and without shewing the least token of 
 what he had been. When the time drew near of his 
 following, in Rome, the triumphal chariot of his con- 
 queror, he sent to intreat to save him that shame : 
 the Roman laughed at him, with justice ; " It was in 
 his power," says he, *'not to come ; nay, he is yet 
 in possession of the favour he begs:" — intimating 
 thereby, that a generous death was the only means 
 to prevent the slavery that was preparing for him. 
 But this cowardly king chose rather to live with 
 infamy, and to die afterwards more cruelly, by the in- 
 humanity of the soldiers who guarded him. It is be- 
 lieved that, out of a disgust they had taken to this 
 unfortunate prince, they hindered him from sleeping, 
 and so put an end to his life, which he had endea- 
 voured to preserve by so many meannesses, altogether 
 unworthy his character and birth. 
 
 TEXT. 
 
 How absurd it is to exhort a young man to live 
 well ; or to make an old one, who draws near his 
 grave, sensible that he ought to face death with con- 
 stancy and fortitude ! Not but they are two excellent 
 things in themselves, but, by reason that those spe- 
 culations that make us find something charming in a
 
 lOg THE MORALS OF EPICURUS, 
 
 well-ordered life, lead us with intrepidity to that fatal 
 hour. 
 
 REFLECTION. 
 
 Life is our guide to death, and death Is a conse^ 
 quence of life : they are inseparable things, and 
 ought to be the subject of our meditations. 
 
 Epicurus is in the right to find fault with him that 
 admonishes a young man to have continually in his 
 thoughts the reforming of his manners ; and the other, 
 advanced in years, to think of making a good end ; 
 as if youth was not subject to death, and that had no 
 farther concern for the conduct of life. 
 
 Our philosopher will not permit us to separate the 
 care of livino' well, from that of dving; without fear. 
 They are two employments so closely linked toge- 
 ther, that the one is useless without the other : the 
 reflectino; on death makes us careful not to deviate 
 from the practice of virtue ; and the practice of virtue 
 makes death have nothing in it that can terrify us. 
 
 TEXT. 
 
 It is still a greater folly to term non-existence a 
 good, or to say that, the very moment we have seen 
 the light, we ought to put an end to our life. If he 
 that expresses himself after this manner is really 
 convinced of what he says, why does he not immedi- 
 ately quit this life ? If he has seriously reflected on 
 the evils that attend it, it is in his power to leave it, 
 to be no longer exposed to its inconvenience ; and, if 
 it be only for talk-sake, and by way of raillery, it is
 
 WITH COMMENTS AND REFLECTIONS. 109 
 
 personating the fool. Sporting with this subject is 
 altogether ridiculous, — nay, profane. 
 
 REFLECTION. 
 
 Epicurus here argues finely. lie is absolutely 
 against those braggadocios who are perpetually ex- 
 claimino; aaainst life ; that are everlasting; censurers 
 of whatever happens in it ; and who are so very nice, 
 that they find fault with the very works of Nature. 
 They put on an outward shew of uneasiness at their 
 continuing amongst mortals ; they seem to envy 
 those that are still in the vast abyss of Nature ; 
 and can find nothing to reconcile them to life, but 
 being speedily freed from it, which blessing they 
 expect with impatience. But, notwithstanding all 
 this, they continue in it ; for which our philosopher 
 marks them for cowards or bufibons. 
 
 Nothing contains more horror than annihilation ; 
 neither can there be a greater unhappiness than the 
 not being admitted to the contemplation of the beauty 
 of the universe, and the knowledge of its supreme 
 Author. When we are once born, w^e must be satis- 
 fied with the station divine Providence has allotted 
 us. " The Wise-man," says a learned Greek, 
 *' ought never to abandon life, on any account what- 
 ever : if he quit it because Fortune persecutes him, he 
 goes from his principles, which teach him there is no 
 other evil in life than what is contrary to that virtue 
 and honesty that are always guided by prudence ; as, 
 at the same time, there is no other good than what is 
 virtuous and honest." 
 
 Life in itself is no evil ; and Democritus assures 
 
 R
 
 110 THE MORALS OF EPICURUS, 
 
 US, that it is full of sweetness, if the mind be easy 
 and undisturbed : which is found by experience, if 
 we Hy from those perishable and uncertain pleasures, 
 and devote ourselves entirely to the more solid and 
 permanent that wisdom affords. 
 
 TEXT. 
 
 We should frequently reflect on the future with 
 this circumstance, — that it does not altogether con- 
 cern us, neither is it quite impossible but it may ; to 
 this end, that we may not perplex ourselves about 
 the certainty or uncertainty of its happening. 
 
 REFLECTION. 
 
 Time is a compound of three, viz. — the past, the 
 present, and the future. The time past either dis- 
 quiets or delights us, according to the remembrance 
 we have of it ; and, in fine, has nothing in it that is 
 formidable to us. The present, by the swiftness of 
 its course, hardly permits us to be sensible of its 
 existence ; but the future, that makes us either hope 
 or fear, because it is not yet at hand, disturbs the 
 happiness of our life, when it is not strengthened 
 and supported by the precepts of wisdom. 
 
 It is a strange weakness ! — We ought to possess 
 ourselves amidst the storms of this world, and habi- 
 tuate our mind to be quiet and composed, even in 
 the greatest tumults : we should, in fine, expect the 
 future with the same firmness as we faced that which 
 is past, and actually undergo the present. 
 
 The sage ought to be prepared for whatever events 
 may happen ; and theii' oddness should not, any more
 
 WITH COMMENTS AND REFLECTIONS. Ill 
 
 tlian their injustice, have any influence over the 
 cahn state of his mind. 
 
 TEXT. 
 
 Consider also, that things quite different in their 
 nature are the objects of our wishes and desires, — 
 some whereof are natural, others again are super- 
 fluous : some of those that are natural are absolutely 
 necessary ; the others, though desirable to nature, 
 are such as we may dispense with the want of. 
 
 Those that are necessary are of two kinds ; some 
 constitute our happiness by the indolency of the 
 body, the others support our life : as, for example, 
 food and drink. If you contemplate these things 
 without swerving from the truth, both the mind and 
 the body will find the eflect of what we ought to 
 seek, and what we ought to decline : the one shall 
 enjoy an undisturbed tranquillity, the other a perfect 
 health, which make up the sum of a happy life, 
 
 REFLECTION. 
 
 Epicurus keeps close to the strictness of his moral : 
 he is for our giving nature what is necessary for its 
 preservation, but he forbids what is superfluous. A 
 piece of Cyteredian cheese was the greatest dainty of 
 which he allowed himself; that was all that made the 
 extraordinary at the table of this great man, whom 
 his enemies have accused of voluptuousness. 
 
 Bread and water are suflficient for the support of 
 life, in the opinion of Menander. Pythagoras will 
 have us make a kind of happiness of frugality ; and 
 Phocilides tells us, we ought to refrain from all kinds 
 
 r2
 
 112 THE MORALS OF EPICURUS, 
 
 of excess ; that there is a certain medium to be kept ; 
 and that it is dangerous to make an abuse of what 
 may flatter our senses. 
 
 TEXT. 
 
 Is it not true, that the grand aim of all our actions 
 Is to decline pain of body and uneasiness of mind ; 
 and, when we have attained to this blessed state, the 
 mind is so freed from whatever could cause any 
 commotion in it, that man believes he has arrived at 
 the utmost period of felicity, — that nothing else can 
 satisfy his mind, or contribute to his health. 
 
 The privation of pleasure creates pain, and the 
 privation of pain causes pleasure : it is for this reason 
 we style this same pleasure the beginning and end 
 of a happy life, because it is the first good that 
 Nature points out to us from the moment of our birth ; 
 it is through its means that we make choice of some 
 things, and avoid others. In fine, all our actions 
 terminate in it : it is, therefore, to it we are obliged 
 for being able to distinguish all kinds of good. 
 
 REFLECTION. 
 
 " Pleasure," says Maximus of Tyre, " has no need 
 of reason : it was before art, has the start of expe- 
 rience, and is not the effect of time. The proneness 
 we have to its charms is excellent : it is created with 
 us ; and. Nature having bestowed it on the animal as 
 the basis of its preservation, he is destroyed the 
 moment he is deprived of this support of life. Learn- 
 ing, reason, and wit, which are so frequently extolled, 
 are the effect of growth, time, and experience ; but
 
 VAITH COMMENTS AND REFLECTIONS. 113 
 
 pleasure needs not to be learned : it is the gift of 
 Nature, which we cherish because it banishes pain ; 
 the one preserves us, the other destroys us. If this 
 same pleasure were but a chimera, it would not be 
 born with us ; it would not have been the first thino; 
 bestowed on us to support life." 
 
 Pleasure is then the cause of all : it informs us 
 what is necessary for us, or what is not ; it is that 
 which thrusts us into the horror of battles, that we may 
 triumph, gain esteem, or be rewarded ; it makes the 
 sick swallow a bitter potion, that he may enjoy the 
 benefit of a perfect health, and suffer his limbs to be 
 cut off, that he may avoid death : in fine, it is plea- 
 sure that incites us to the study of wisdom, that we 
 may have a perfect fruition of the satisfaction it be- 
 stows in the blessed calm of our mind. 
 
 TEXT. 
 
 Now, it is certain that, as this primitive good 
 comes immediately from Nature, it does not incline 
 us to all sorts of pleasure ; for there are several which 
 we decline, when we know that they are attended 
 with far greater pains. There are likewise several 
 grievances that we prefer to some pleasures, when 
 we are convinced that, after having borne them for 
 some considerable time, we shall be recompensed 
 with more sensible satisfactions. 
 
 It is, therefore, indubitable that all kinds of 
 pleasure, if they are agreeable to the sentiments 
 Nature gives us, are something very excellent ; and 
 yet we ought not to indulge them all. iVnd, not- 
 withstanding all kinds of pain are naturally evil, we
 
 114 THE MORALS OF EPICURUS, 
 
 must not for that decline them all ; because we must 
 make a sort of parallel between those things that 
 please us, and those that displease us, and decide the 
 matter as occasion shall require, and according to 
 the utility that may arise therefrom ; for sometimes 
 we avoid the good as an evil, and make use of the 
 evil as a good, because of their consequences. 
 
 REFLECTION. 
 
 Since that perfect pleasure Epicurus speaks of is 
 nothing else than the peaceable state of the mind, 
 and the absence of pain from the body, we must seek 
 that which leads us to this happy condition ; so that 
 those pleasures which have any thing in them that is 
 evil or guilty, ought to be looked upon as the dan- 
 gerous rock of our peace, — pleasure chiefly consisting 
 in the cessation of pain. All that we contrive, all 
 that we with so much eagerness seek after, has no 
 other scope : we must, therefore, for the same reason, 
 sometimes endure pain, that we may afterwards 
 enjoy the pleasure that follows it. 
 
 A man shall deprive himself, though with diflficulty 
 and uneasiness, of the agreeable sight of a mistress 
 he doats on, because he wisely reflects that liberty 
 is a far more precious thing than that alluring slavery 
 in which he lived. Another shall suffer his arm to 
 be cutoff"; but the pain thereof is followed with the 
 pleasure of saving his life. Seneca sufficiently ex- 
 plains Epicurus' notion, when he makes him say, that 
 all pleasures were to be declined that were followed at 
 the heel by repentance ; and that a moderate pain 
 ought patiently to be borne with, to avoid a greater. 
 4
 
 WITH COMMENTS AND REFLECTIONS. 115 
 
 TEXT. 
 
 Frugality is a good that cannot be too highly 
 prized. Not that it is necessary to practise it always 
 with the same strictness ; but the habit thereof is 
 most excellent, and very useful, — that, in case it 
 should fall out that we had not all things in the same 
 plenty as before, we may be satisfied with little, and 
 that that mediocrity may not seem strange to us : 
 wherefore we should engrave deeply in our mind, 
 that we enjoy a superabounding opulency when we 
 have learned to be contented without profuseness. 
 
 Nature, for its subsistence, requires only things 
 that are easily procured. Those that are rare and 
 exquisite are needless ; they, at best, but flatter our 
 vanity and luxury. An ordinary food shall afford as 
 much pleasure as the most sumptuous banquet; and 
 bread and water are a charming meal, if they are at 
 hand when we are hungry and thirsty. 
 
 We must, therefore, accustom ourselves to a plain 
 and sober diet, without ransacking the markets for 
 tliose nice and costly dainties. This frugal way of 
 living shall preserve our health, and we shall find 
 ourselves stronger thereby, and every-way better 
 disposed for all the actions of life. If we chance to 
 assist at a better entertainment, we shall relish it with 
 greater pleasure ; but what is chiefly to be valued is, 
 that, by the means hereof, we shall not fear the 
 vicissitudes of fortune ; because, having habituated 
 ourselves to take up with little, whatever plenty she 
 may deprive us of, she only places us in a state we 
 are already prepared for, and accustomed to, by th© 
 laudable habit we have contracted.
 
 I IG THE MORALS OF EPICURUS, 
 
 REFLECTION. 
 
 IIow worthy of our philosopher is this sentiment ! 
 and how true it is that Nature, for its preservation, 
 requires none of those excesses with which we load 
 if. They cannot constitute the felicity of man, since 
 that consists in the calm of his mind, and the good 
 disposition of his body. 
 
 Wisdom, that is the chief cause of this happiness, 
 is nothing else than that medium which accompanies 
 those things we seek after ; it does not centre in the 
 too little, any more than in the too much : he that 
 trembles at the sight of danger is a coward, and he 
 that raslily flings himself into it is fool-hardy. To 
 want what is necessary is an evil, and to make pro- 
 fession of intemperance is a crime : we should, there- 
 fore, observe a certain moderation in all that we do ; 
 it is the means to be happy, and the only path that 
 feads to wisdom. " x\ competent wealth," says the 
 femous Lucretius, " is sufficient to make life happy." 
 and, in Solomon's opinion, it is inseparable from 
 virtue ; for which reason, he preferred it to those 
 pernicious and dangerous riches, which are enjoyed 
 with remorse and injustice. 
 
 In fine, as Epicurus says, hunger is the best 
 sauce, and gives the best relish to Avhat we eat. 
 Artaxerxes, king of Persia, having lost all his baggage 
 in a defeat, was forced to take up with dried figs and 
 barley-bread, to allay his hunger: the pleasure he 
 found therein was so great, that he broke out in this 
 exclamation, — " Oh, ye gods ! how delicious is this 1 
 f never was sensible of the same before."
 
 WITH COMMENTS AND REFLECTIONS. 117 
 
 TEXT. 
 
 By this it is clear, that, when we pretend that 
 pleasure is the main drift of life, it must not be ima- 
 gined that we thereby mean that sort of pleasure which 
 is to be found in love, or in the luxury and excess of 
 high feeding, as some ignorant people and the pro- 
 fessed enemies of our sect would insinuate, who have 
 endeavoured to impose upon us by the malicious con- 
 struction they have given to our opinion. 
 
 This pleasure, that is the very centre of our hap- 
 piness, consists in nothing else than having our mind 
 free from disturbance, and our body free from pain. 
 Drunkenness, excessive eating, the criminal conver- 
 sation with women, the niceness in our liquors, and 
 all that seasons good cheer, have nothing in them 
 that can make life happy : there is nothing but fru- 
 gality and tranquillity of mind that can establish this 
 happy state. It is this calm that facilitates our distin- 
 guishing between those things which ought to be our 
 choice, and those we ought to shun ; and it is by the 
 means thereof that we discard those notions that dis- 
 compose this first mover of our life. 
 
 REFLECTION. 
 
 Wliat a strange unaccountable thing Is detraction 1 
 He that explains himself so clearly on the definition 
 of true pleasure, and declares openly that those plea- 
 sures most men devote themselves to, do not so much 
 as partake of the nature of true pleasure, which can 
 never be perfect and sincere but when the mind is 
 contented, and the body without pain, and that it
 
 118 THE MORALS OF EPTCURlTSj 
 
 keeps strictly to the rules of virtue : — this very man, 
 I say, whose memory ought to be sacred to posterity, 
 was, through the malice of the Stoics, represented as 
 the most execrable and worst of men. 
 
 These proud philosophers vented their malice 
 against him after this outrageous manner, only moved 
 with despair, into which his Iviiowledge and probity 
 liad plunged them. They perceived all ^^as sincere 
 in his sentiments ; that he did not, like them, strain 
 his wit to maintain and defend opinions contrary to 
 the nature of good sense ; that his life was an elo- 
 quent example of his virtue, and of the excellency of 
 his precepts ; and that the calm state of his soul was 
 discoverable in his countenance. As they were sen- 
 sible that the happiness they affected to be possessed 
 of was no more than an outward appearance, and 
 that they suffered inwardly to procure that composed 
 exterior, they laboured all they could to disturb that 
 which Epicurus really enjoyed. Now, as their attempt 
 was altogether rash, so neither was it attended with 
 success : for he remained unhurt, notwithstandino; all 
 their spite : — the age he lived in saw their aversion to 
 him, without ceasins; to admire the strenoth of his 
 mind ; and following ages have done justice to 
 truth, which has in all places made the eulogium of 
 his wisdom. 
 
 TEXT. 
 
 The principles of all these things are only to be 
 found in prudence, which by consequence is an ex- 
 quisite good ; and, truly, she deserves the pre-emi- 
 nence over philosophy, because she is a rule to her, 
 
 3
 
 WITH COMMENTS AND REFLECTIONS. 119 
 
 to guide her in her enquiries ; that she discounts the 
 benefit and utility of being freed from ignorance, 
 which is the cWief cause of all our alarms ; and be- 
 cause, likewise, she is the source of all the virtues 
 that teach us Hfe cannot be agreeable, if prudence, 
 honesty, and justice, do not direct all its motions ; 
 and that, following always the track of these, our life 
 slides away with that satisfaction which is inseparable 
 from happiness ; for her virtues are the property of a 
 happy life, which can never be without their excellent 
 practice. 
 
 REFLECTION. 
 
 " Prudence," says one of the ancients, " is a great 
 divinity ; in effect, she is the first mover of all illus- 
 trious actions : it is to the conduct of her counsels 
 that man owes all the success of his undertakino s ; it 
 is by her means the prince triumphs, the magistrate 
 administers justice with applause, and the private 
 man governs well his family." She teaches us the 
 art of conforming our lives to the model of wisdom, 
 which constitutes its happiness and pleasure ; for, as 
 our philosopher very w^ell observes, there is no joy 
 w ithout prudence, and no prudence without pleasure. 
 
 TEXT. 
 
 This being supposed, where is the man that is pre- 
 ferable to him who thinks of the gods conformably to 
 the grandeur of their being, — who beholds with in- 
 trepidity the insensible approaches of death, — who 
 reasons w4th so much exactness concerning the end 
 to which we naturally ought to tend, and on the 
 
 s2
 
 120 THE MORALS OF EPICURUS, 
 
 existence of the supreme good, whose acquisition he 
 believes to be easy, and capable of satisfying us en- 
 tirely, — who has engraved in his mind, that whatever 
 grieves us will soon have an end, if it be violent ; 
 and, if it be a languishing distemper, it becomes ha- 
 bitual, and in some measure supportable ; and who, in 
 fine, can convince himself that Fate or Destiny has not, 
 as some philosophers have believed, an absolute power 
 over us ; or that, at least, they have not an over- 
 ruling sovereignty over things which depend, in part, 
 on the capriciousness of fortune, and partly on our 
 will, because that same necessity would be cruel, and 
 without remedy ; and that the inconstancy of fortune 
 leaves some room still to hope for a better, even in 
 the worst of circumstances ? 
 
 Moreover, the liberty we have of acting as we 
 please is incompatible with any force that shall tyran- 
 nise over us ; for which reason we are always guilty 
 when we do ill things, as we are worthy of praise 
 when we suffer ourselves to be guided by the dic- 
 tates of prudence. 
 
 REFLECTION. 
 
 Happy would be that man, without doubt, that 
 could live up to the rules prescribed by our philo- 
 sopher: it would be living among men something 
 above man, not to fear this last dissolution any fur- 
 ther than with respect to the consequences religion 
 proposes ; daily preparing ourselves for it, according 
 to the rules and maxims thereof; to know the sove- 
 reign good, and how to enjoy it ; to suifer pain, and 
 be easy under the violence of its attacks^ To despise
 
 WITH COMMENTS AND REFtECTIONS. 121 
 
 this fatal necessity, which we may ascribe to the 
 laws of nature, and continue to make our lives happy 
 by the rules of prudence, are very difficult things : 
 the strength of nature is not sufficient for it ; it is 
 from God alone we must hope and expect this high 
 degree of perfection : he is the source of our joys ; 
 he is all we should desire, — he alone being able to 
 satisfy us, because he is our supreme good. 
 
 TEXT. 
 
 It is, therefore, much better to join with the people 
 in the fabulous notion they have of the gods, than to 
 act, as some naturalists will have us, by the necessity 
 of fate ; for that thought imprints reverence, and a 
 man hopes for success by his prayers : but, when we 
 imagine a necessity in the action, it is the ready way 
 to cast ourselves into despair. 
 
 Take great heed, then, not to imitate the vulgar, 
 who rank Fortune amono* the o'ods : the unaccount- 
 ableness of her conduct is altogether unworthy the 
 character of divinity, which can do nothing but with 
 exactness and order ; neither must you believe that 
 this shuttlecock has any thing to do with the event 
 of things. The ignorant people have suffered them- 
 selves to be imposed upon iu favour of its power, 
 though they are not at the same time persuaded that 
 she deals directly to men either the good or evil that 
 befals them, but only that she furnishes the occasions 
 of all those things that can produce such effects. 
 
 Use, then, all your endeavovu^s to root out of your 
 mind this thought, and be convinced that it is better 
 to be unfortunate, without having trespassed against
 
 122 THE MOKALS OF EPICURUS, 
 
 prudence, than to gain the top of our wishes by an 
 irregular conduct, to which nevertheless fortune has 
 sometimes given success : it is much more glorious 
 to owe to this same prudence the greatness and hap- 
 piness of our actions, by reason it is a certain token 
 they are the effect of her reflections and counsels. 
 
 REFLECTION. 
 
 This opinion of Epicurus is directly opposite to 
 that of the Stoics, who would have God himself de- 
 pend on destiny ; pretending that he was, as it were, 
 linked to second causes, and that there was such a 
 concatenation of causes that it was not in his power 
 to alter the event. How blind were these philoso-* 
 phers by their ridiculous pride, if every thing was so 
 and so determined by an unalterable necessity ! They 
 have in vain bestowed so many encomiums on those 
 extraordinary men who were the heroes of their sect. 
 . Stilpo, that famous Stoic, whom Seneca so much 
 admires, disdains the favour Demetrius offered him, 
 of restorino' him his estate after his taking: Megara : 
 he is unmoved amidst the glittering and fury of the 
 swords, the plundering and massacre of his fellow- 
 citizens : the forcing his daughters from his arms 
 does not shake his constancy ; the temples' being de- 
 molished, and the gods buried in their ruins, do not 
 alter the peaceable state of his mind ; the conquerors 
 and the vanquished are all in a hurry and confusion, 
 ^^hile he alone enjoys a profound satisfaction ; — yet, 
 according to the opinion of the Stoics, he does not 
 deserve the praise Seneca gives him. Destiny, that 
 compelled him to this action, was the author of this
 
 WITH COMMENTS AND REFLECTIONS. 12?^ 
 
 haughty stubbornness ; and, if another had truckled 
 to this barbarous usage, he could not be justly blamed, 
 because he was forced, by a hidden cause, to yield 
 to the times. 
 
 Epicurus' sage is far above these haughty philo- 
 sophers : he will not allow his actions to depend on 
 an invisible constraint ; he requires his will should be 
 free, which is conformable to religion ; he will have 
 the wise man owe all to his own prudence ; insomuch, 
 that he prefers the unfortunate wise man to the rash 
 and fool-hardy, though ever so happy. 
 
 TEXT. 
 
 Never cease, therefore, meditating on these things ; 
 spend the day, and night too, in the contemplation 
 of all that relates to them, whether you be alone, or 
 with any of your profession : it is the ready means to 
 sleep quietly, to exercise calmly all your faculties, 
 and to live like a god among mortals. He may be 
 said to be more than man that enjoys, during his 
 life, the same blessings that make the happiness of the 
 Deity. 
 
 REFLECTION. 
 
 This letter, which is an admirable compendium of 
 all that can contribute to the happiness of life, ends 
 after the same manner as it begins. Epicurus looks 
 upon meditation to be the best mistress to practice : 
 practice without meditation is dangerous, because it 
 is destitute of prudence. It is, then, this fine virtue 
 that he will have us acquire by the means of reflec- 
 tion : she stops the temerity of the philosophers ; slie
 
 124 THE MORALS OF EPICURUS^ 
 
 subdues our rebellious passions ; she discovers to the 
 will, that she is sovereign mistress of her actions ; 
 she takes from Fortune all her power : in fine, she 
 shews us how to live well, that we may die well ; 
 and, having taught us the practice of all the virtues, 
 by the guidance of faith, she leads us, without fear 
 or apprehension, to the sleep of the just, which places 
 us among the angels in heaven. 
 
 DIOGENES LAERTIUS 
 
 RELATES HERK SEVERAL 
 
 SENTIMENTS OF EPICURUS AND HIS FOLLOWERS. 
 
 TEXT. 
 
 I DO not here assert that Epicurus, in many places 
 of his writings, and particularly in his Grand Epitome, 
 rejects entirely the art of divination ; but he assures 
 us, that it is a mere chimera, and that, had it any 
 foundation in truth, man would not have it in his 
 power freely. This is what he advances, although 
 there are in the body of his works a great many other 
 things, where he speaks concerning the conduct we 
 ought to hold for the regulating the happiness of life. 
 
 REFLECTION. 
 
 Cicero laughs at the Stoics, for their holding it 
 possible to penetrate into the future, when at the
 
 WITH COMMENTS AND REFLECTIONS. 125 
 
 same time they acknowledged a certain infallible ne- 
 cessity in things ; which is what Epicurus maintains 
 to be false and absurd. He will not admit of destiny, 
 nor that it is possible to know things certainly before 
 their arrival ; because he looks upon them not to be 
 determined and fixed, and that they may as well 
 happen one way as the other, according to circum- 
 stances, occasion, and the conduct of men, by virtue 
 of their liberty of free-will. 
 
 This is also what religion teaches us. Besides, in 
 the opinion of the Roman orator, the foreknowledge 
 of any event is of no utility ; nay, it is danger- 
 ous : for, supposing there was any thing of truth 
 in it, he that should have it foretold him, at the age 
 of fifteen, that he should be burnt alive in his old 
 age, would pass all the moments of his life in cruel 
 anxieties. 
 
 TEXT. 
 
 He differs very much from the Cyreneans concern- 
 ing tlie nature of pleasure ; for those philosophers 
 will not allow it to consist in indolency and privation 
 of pain, but will have it take its birth according as 
 the senses shall be affected. 
 
 On the contrary, Epicurus requires that the mind 
 and body should be, as it were, co-partners therein : 
 he explains his opinion in his book concerning the 
 choosing or avoiding things, in that relating to life 
 and our manners, and in the epistle he writes to the 
 philosophers of Mitylene. Diogenes, in his Epitects, 
 and Metrodorus, in his Timocrates, agree upon this 
 head.
 
 126 THE MORALS OF EPICURUS, 
 
 The pleasure we receive, say they, is two-fold, — 
 the one proceeds from repose, the other from motion ; 
 and Epicurus, in his writings relating to those things 
 we should make our choice, expressly says, that those 
 pleasures that are of the first kind are the calm and 
 tranquillity of mind ; and that mirth and joy are of 
 the character of those that are to be found in action. 
 
 REFLECTION. 
 
 It is not without reason that Gerson compares 
 those that place the sovereign good of life in volup- 
 tuousness, and those pleasures that gratify the senses, 
 to those filthy animals that delight to wallow in the 
 mud and mire : " They are," says this doctor, " un- 
 worthy the name of philosophers, since they could 
 imagine that what made the pleasure of brutes could 
 constitute the felicity of man." 
 
 Aristodemus, the tyrant of Cuma, was so charmed 
 with this infamous opinion, that he published an 
 edict, whereby he obliged all his subjects to devote 
 themselves entirely to the beastly pleasures of lasci- 
 viousness. Epicurus, whose sentiments are unmixed 
 and always pure, is very opposite to those of Aristip- 
 pus and his followers, who believed life could not be 
 agreeable if it was not passed auiong those pleasures 
 that delight the body. 
 
 He will have our happiness consist in indolency 
 and tranquillity : not that he means by tranquillity a 
 sort of lazy idleness ; but he intends thereby a fixed 
 determination of the mind to do nothing but what 
 shall be conformable to the rules of prudence ; an 
 unshaken firmness against the attacks of fortune ; and
 
 WITH COMMENTS AND REFLECTIONS. 127 
 
 a contempt of all those things that might alter its re- 
 flections ; and that, constantly meditating, it shall 
 delight itself with its speculations, and anticipate 
 those pleasures it expects hereafter. 
 
 Seneca sufficiently expresses the opinion of our 
 philosopher : Epicurus, says he, of whom we often 
 judge amiss, will not have pleasure consist in action, 
 but in that unalterable character we imprint in our 
 mind by the help of reason, 
 
 TEXT. 
 
 He does not agree neither with the Cyreneans, 
 who hold that the pains of the body are much more 
 sensible to us than those of the mind : the reason 
 they back their opinion with is, that we punish de- 
 linquents with bodily torments, as being the severest 
 and most rigorous. But Epicurus proves, that the 
 tortures of the mind are far beyond them : the body 
 suffers but during the time of its affliction ; whereas, 
 the mind suffers not only under the present evil, but 
 is also tortured with the remembrance of what is 
 past, as well as with the apprehension of what is to 
 come ; which makes this philosopher prefer the 
 pleasures of the intellectual part to all the voluptuous 
 delights of the body. 
 
 REFLECTION. 
 
 It is no great wonder that Aristippus and his fol- 
 lowers, who have established the felicity of life in 
 the pleasures of our senses, should maintain that the 
 afflictions and pains of the body exceed those of the 
 mind. Epicurus is of a quite contrary opinion. In 
 
 t2
 
 128 THE MORALS OF EPICURUS, 
 
 effect, nothing that the body endures can be com- 
 pared with the tortures of the mind. An unforeseen 
 thrust of a sword is hardly felt ; whereas, if received 
 in cool blood, and with a premeditated expectation, 
 it would be much more sensible, because thought, 
 which is a property of the mind, would make us re- 
 flect on all the dismal consequences of the wound ; 
 viz. — the pain of the incision, of the probing, of a 
 fever, and the other attendants of the evil. A man, 
 who is going to be executed, would not undergo so 
 much if he were to suffer in the dungeon ; but the 
 preparations for his execution, as well as the nature 
 thereof, being present to his mind, augment his fear. 
 This intellectual part is in this more unhappy than 
 the body ; its ailings are more numerous, more dan- 
 gerous, and more violent : nothing can come up to 
 the disturbance and uneasiness it undergoes, from 
 em^, ambition, love, jealousy, vain-glory, contempt, 
 extreme poverty, and the loss of dignity and estate, 
 which, for the most part, are the causes of its de-« 
 spair. 
 
 TEXT. 
 
 He proves, that pleasure is the scope and end of 
 all ; because the beasts no sooner perceive the light, 
 than (without the help of reason, and by mere in- 
 sstinct of nature,) they seek pleasure, and decline 
 pain ; and it is a thing so natural to men, from the 
 very moment of their birth, to shun affliction, that 
 even Hercules himself, when he felt the raging pains 
 of the fire that consumed him, could not forbear
 
 WITH COMMENTS AND REFLECTIONS. 129 
 
 shedding tears, and filled the Eubaean hills and val- 
 leys with his cries and lamentations. 
 
 REFLECTION.. 
 
 This reasoning of Epicurus is a sort of consequence 
 of the opinion he advances in his physics, concerning 
 the infallibility of the senses, in that differing from 
 the mind, which he pretends may err. As brutes 
 have not the use of reason, and that they judge of 
 things according as they appear to their senses, our 
 philosopher will have us have recourse to them 
 touching the nature of the good that ought to be in 
 the inquest after pleasure, as well as concerning the 
 nature of evil in the declining pain ; since they eagerly 
 seek after the one, and carefully avoid the other. 
 
 TEXT. 
 
 He believes that the virtues have nothing in them 
 that can make them desirable, with reference to 
 themselves ; and that they are so only from the plea- 
 sure that results from the acquisition thereof ; as the 
 art of physic is only useful by the health it procures. 
 Diogenes says the same in his Epitects. Epicurus 
 adds, that virtue only is inseparable from pleasure ; 
 that all the other things that accompany it are mere 
 accidents, that vanish away. 
 
 REFLECTION. 
 
 The sovereign good refers to nothing, and may be 
 said to be independent : on the contrary, all things 
 unite to it, as to their centre, and this true centre is 
 to be found only in the knowledge how to live agree-
 
 130 THE MORALS OF EPICURUS, 
 
 ably. The Stoics, who will seek no-where for it but 
 in the nature of virtue, have suffered themselves to be 
 dazzled by the vanity of a name, and never knew 
 what nature required. 
 
 Epicurus was far more knowing than these philo- 
 sophers, and, however they may cry up their senti- 
 ments, those fine virtues would have nothing in them 
 to make them the object of our desires, if their effects 
 did not lead to pleasure. Wc value navigation for 
 the utility we receive from it ; music, for its har- 
 mony ; and the art of fortification, for the security 
 and safety it affords. 
 
 Wisdom, which contributes very much to the hap- 
 piness of life, would not be so much sought after, 
 were it not for pleasure, which is the final end of its 
 precepts. We are very eager in our pursuit after it ; 
 we do all we can to acquire it, because it banishes 
 that sadness which makes us timorous, and quiets our 
 agitations and disturbance : it lays the fury of our 
 passions, and gives our mind that rest to which 
 pleasure is always annexed ; and it may be easily 
 perceived, notvi ithstanding the malicious construction 
 the Stoics have put upon the term pleasure, which 
 Epicurus makes use of, that it is a thing inseparable 
 from virtue, and may be properly called the soul 
 thereof. 
 
 We are not, therefore, to love wisdom for its own 
 sake, but for the pleasure we receive in the practice 
 of its counsels. The same may be said of temper- 
 ance : it desenes our esteem, for it causes inward 
 peace, and teaches the just medium we ought to 
 keep in the choice or rejection of things ; and,
 
 WITH COMMENTS AND REFLECTIONS. 131 
 
 when once its precepts are conformable to reason, it 
 knows how to bound our desires, and prevent our 
 beinof insatiable. 
 
 Magnanimity has nothing' in it, of itself, which can 
 render it desirable : — would it not be ridiculous to 
 undergo hazards, to expose oneself to dangers, and 
 perform great actions, with the simple view barely of 
 so doing: 1 Mutius Scaevola burnt his hand for the 
 pleasure of frightening Porsenna, and obliging him 
 to a peace. Buris and Spertis, citizens of Sparta, 
 exposed themselves to the vengeance of Xerxes, king 
 of Persia, (whose messengers the Spartans had killed, 
 contrary to the law of nations,) but for the pleasure of 
 appeasing by their death the anger of that prince, and 
 so save their country from ruin. 
 
 These actions are considered as leading to glory 
 and honour, and bestowing that precious and charm- 
 ing thing — a good reputation ; or to some other de- 
 sign, that still procures the pleasure our philosopher 
 speaks of. Moreover, this virtue is valuable for the 
 elevated station it places the mind in, which makes 
 it above misfortunes, — nay, even face death itself, 
 with an intrepidity that has nothing in it of rashness 
 or brutality, as being the effect of reflection and the 
 pleasure we propose. But, to speak like a Christian, 
 there is nothing but the divine wisdom, which is 
 God, that is desirable of itself: it is the blessed en- 
 joyment of Him that makes our supreme felicity ; it 
 is to the possession of this felicity that man should 
 refer all things ; and he ought to omit nothing that 
 can procure the fruition of this transcendant good.
 
 132 THE MORALS OF EPICURUS, 
 
 Let US put the last hand to this work, and to the 
 life of this philosopher, and let us here add the opi- 
 nions he held for certain : and may the end of our 
 labour be the beginning of blessedness. 
 
 THE MAXIMS OF EPICURUS. 
 
 MAXIM I. 
 
 That Being, who is happy and immortal, is no- 
 ways solicitous or uneasy on any account, neither 
 does he torment or teaze others : anger is unworthy 
 his greatness, and beneficence cannot form the cha- 
 racter of his majesty; for all these things are the 
 property of weakness. He says, in another place, 
 that the gods are imperceivable to our senses ; that 
 the mind alone enjoys the advantage of knowing 
 them ; that they do not exist by a certain solidity, 
 nor by a distinction of numbers ; but that their form 
 is like that of men, by reason of the perpetual flux of 
 images that affect the mind by the quality of their 
 nature. 
 
 REFLECTION. 
 
 " The moment," says Socrates, " that man busies 
 liimself in the search after the Divine Nature, and 
 tiiat weak reason is his guide to the knowledge of 
 4
 
 WITH COMMENTS AND REFLECTIONS. ISS 
 
 this truth, he is in a dangerous state : he may be said 
 to walk in the dark, and all his motions bear a pro- 
 portion to this error. 
 
 It was Epicurus' misfortune to endeavour to pe- 
 netrate into that which has ever been too immense 
 for weak reason ; and accordingly he miscarried in 
 the attempt, — but policy obliged him to disguise his 
 sentiments : for, as Cicero very well obseiTcs, if the 
 Deity is weak and impotent, or neglects the assistance 
 of mankind, to what purpose do we build temples to 
 it ? It is of no benefit to invoke it, or pay homage 
 to it : and, if divine worship were once abolished, 
 what would become of the public faith? Civil so- 
 ciety would be destroyed, and justice, which is the 
 most excellent of virtues, would be banished out of 
 the world. 
 
 This orator pretends that Epicurus spoke equivo- 
 cally, and leaves it doubtful, whether he said there is 
 something happy and immortal, or whether he meant 
 that what enjoyed a perfect felicity had the advantage 
 of being eternal. It was, in all likelihood, on the 
 score of this passage in our philosopher, that Diogenes 
 Laertius, in his Life, extols his piety and worship of 
 the gods. But, suppose Epicurus spake sincerely in 
 this maxim, which he did not, it would be at best 
 but a Pagan piety, which would be an impiety in our 
 religion. The definition he gives of an immortal and 
 happy being, is an outward expression that contains 
 a dangerous sense ; for it is destroying the belief of 
 a God to deprive him of the government of nature, 
 and, under the pretence of thinking nothing of him
 
 184 THE MORALS OF EPICURUS, 
 
 but what is great and august, making an idol of aa 
 intelligent Being. 
 
 God chastises in his anger ; he is appeased and 
 reconciled without weakness ; he acts without dis- 
 composing his rest ; he is immutable, though he 
 changes all things ; he is always seeking, though he 
 wants nothing : we are the work of his power ; we 
 subsist by his goodness, and we should cease to b^ 
 the moment his providence forsook us. 
 
 MAXIM 11. 
 
 Death is nothing, in reference to us. What has; 
 undergone a dissolution has no sense ; and this pri-> 
 vation of sense makes us just nothing at all. 
 
 REFLECTION. 
 
 This maxim of Epicurus is a consequence of his 
 opinion touching the mortality of the soul : he be- 
 lieved that death effected its dissolution, as w^ell as 
 that of the body ; from whence he inferred that that 
 hour ought not to alarm us, since there was nothing 
 to fear hereafter ; and that it was, as Lucretius says, 
 but a returning to eternal sleep. 
 
 This sentiment is very contrary to the Christian 
 religion, which inspires more advantageous thoughts 
 in reference to our soul : it tells us, that our soul is 
 immortal, and that we ought to hope and expect all 
 things from God, who is the author of nature : it is 
 on him our life depends, it is by him we shall revive 
 3
 
 WITH COMMENTS AND REFLECTIONS. I^O 
 
 at the resurrection : we ought to pay him a continual 
 worship, because we are to be with him, and that he 
 is to make our eternal felicity. 
 
 But, if we may be allowed to say something in 
 favour of our philosopher, we must do him this jus- 
 tice, that he did not advance this maxim to promote 
 voluptuousness, like those material souls who say, 
 Let us eat and drink, for to-morrow will put an end 
 to our pleasures ; all will terminate with it, and there 
 is nothing afterwards that can cause either hope 6t 
 fear. On the contrary, he taught and practised 
 sobriety, and opposed with sound reasons a luxurious 
 intemperance. 
 
 MAXIM III. 
 
 The most delightful thing in pleasure is privation 
 of pain ; for, wherever that is found, there can be 
 neither evil nor sadness. 
 
 REFLECTION. 
 
 Isocrates warns us to be very distrustful of ca- 
 lumny ; for, admitting it to be false, they to whom 
 the truth is not known judge according to the cha-. 
 racter that is given of you. It is what happened to 
 our philosopher, who, having declared so plainly in 
 his writings that the pleasure he placed the happiness 
 of life in was not to be found among those that gra- 
 tify the passions, was looked upon, nevertheless, 
 trough the malice of the Stoics, to be a man who- 
 
 u3
 
 Id^ THE MORALS OF EPICURUS, 
 
 had refined all sorts of debauchery ; although he 
 meant no other pleasure than what proceeds from 
 privation of pain. 
 
 MAXIM IV. 
 
 . If the body be attacked with a violent pain, th© 
 evil soon has an end : if, on the contrary, the pain be 
 languishing, and of long duration, it is sensible, 
 beyond all doubt, of some pleasure therefrom. Thus, 
 most chronical distempers have intervals, that afford 
 us more satisfaction and ease than the distempers w q 
 labour under cause pain. 
 
 REFLECTION. 
 
 Torquatus, one of Epicurus' sect, says, in Cicero, 
 that great torments are soon at an end, because they 
 operate the dissolution of the compound ; whereas, 
 if they are moderate, they have intervals of ease. 
 In effect, a person who is afflicted with an ague 
 suffers during the cold fit ; but, when that is over, 
 there follows a sort of rest that is refreshing ; and 
 nothing can come up to the pleasure we feel in quench- 
 ing a thirst we have endured some time. 
 
 Besides, the Wise-man shall, in Seneca's opinion , be 
 able to exercise his virtue, though bed-ridden : he shall 
 meditate on the means by which to bear his distemper 
 Avith patience and moderation, and not suffer the 
 pains he endures to transport him beyond his temper ; 
 he must take care of committing any thing in that
 
 WITH COMMENTS AND REFLECTIONS. 137 
 
 artate unworthy his profession, and then the thoughts 
 of his having- got the better of his torments will 
 afford him some delight in his fortitude. 
 
 MAXIM V. 
 
 It is impossible to pass our life delightfully Mithout 
 prudence, honesty, humanity, and justice. He that 
 practises these excellent virtues, cannot but live 
 pleasantly ; insomuch, that the man who is so wretched 
 as to be neither honest, prudent, humane, nor just, 
 is deprived of all that might otherwise make his life 
 happy. 
 
 REFLECTION. 
 
 Wliat a charming picture is here of the interior of 
 our philosopher ! what a curious model to form our 
 lives by ! How blessed is his state, who cultivates 
 the pleasures which accompany prudence, honesty, 
 humanity, and justice ! We must endeavour to live 
 comfortably ; but, in order to do that, our mind must 
 govern and hold the reins of all the motions the soul 
 communicates to the body, and our reason must be 
 backed and supported by prudence. We ought to 
 be convinced, that all pleasures are dangerous with- 
 out honesty : at the same time, we should be so just 
 as to do, by the habit that we have acquired of jus- 
 tice, all that the laws compel us to do through fear. 
 Then it is that, by the help of these excellent qua- 
 lities, and in a full fruition of the pleasures they
 
 JSS THE MORALS OF EPICURUS, 
 
 afford, we expect the end of our course with flrmnessr 
 and constancy ; because prudence, honesty, hu- 
 manity, and justice, are inseparable from a happy 
 life, and that there can be no complete felicity with- 
 out the practice of these virtues. 
 
 Thus, Phocion enjoyed the comfort and pleasure of 
 a man truly wise : he had learned, under Plato and 
 Xenocrates, the maxim of our philosopher, by which 
 means he was inaccessible to the violence of the 
 passions, and in no-wise to be corrupted by money, 
 refusing with indignation what Alexander offered 
 him. His continence was worthy admiration, as well 
 as were his moderation and justice ; his clemency 
 was such, as made him kindly entertain in his house 
 the very man who had put out one of his eyes with 
 an arrow ; whereby he sufficiently declared the calm 
 state of his mind, and his actions were so many tes- 
 timonials of his prudence. 
 
 He always advised peace, though he shewed him- 
 self a hero in time of war. Being accused of trea- 
 son, although innocent, he spoke in the behalf of his 
 friends, and neglected justifying himself: he even 
 paid the executioner for the poison, and appeared as 
 well pleased at his death as he had been contented 
 and easy durino- his life. 
 
 MAXIM VI. 
 
 Several have imagined that regal power and com- 
 mand might make them sure of friends, wherefore 
 they Imve spaced nothing to raise themselves to this
 
 WITU COMMENTS AND REFLECTIONS. 139 
 
 dignity : they looked upon it as a station firm and 
 secure, and out of the reach of all attempts. And 
 it must be confessed, that, if thereby they attained 
 to that desirable tranquillity and security of life, 
 they were in possession of that supreme good Nature 
 teaches : but, if, on the contrary, they have always 
 lived in distraction and anxiety, as it seldom, if ever, 
 happens otherwise, they have then miscarried in that 
 main good so conformable to Nature. 
 
 REFLECTION. 
 
 Epicurus (who elsewhere* forbids the Wise-man 
 to meddle with the administration of government) 
 here sets forth the error of the greatest part of man-' 
 kind, who, considering the many dangers that attend 
 life, flatter themselves they can shun them all, if they 
 can raise themselves above the rest. How weak is 
 this way of reasoning ! Honours and dignity are 
 inseparable from solicitude and care : we are conti- 
 nually in apprehension and fear of losing them ; the. 
 fickleness of fortune, or envy, that declared enemy 
 of grandeur, is ever threatening us. 
 
 Aman, who in a manner ruled that vast empire of 
 the Assyrians, saw at last his unjust pride punished 
 with the shame of an infamous execution. Sejanus, 
 that intimate favourite of Tiberius, having practised 
 all that the wildest ambition can execute most crimi- 
 nally, found at length that the greatest honours are, 
 attended with the greatest misfortunes. But it is 
 
 * See Maxim xiv, page 58.
 
 140 THE MORALS OF EPICtJRt'S, 
 
 more inii)riident still to hope for safety from thosb 
 We have enslaved. 
 
 Andronicus Comneniis, violating all the laws of 
 nature^ put to death his cousin Alexis, to whom the 
 empire of right belonged, that he might thereby 
 ascend the throne. He thought severe means the 
 most effectual to confirm him there ; but all in vain, 
 for he could not decline the common fate of usurpers. 
 Those whom he had enslaved, revolted : Isaacus 
 Angelus, who was declared emperor, seized the 
 tyrant, and caused one of his eyes to be put out, 
 leaving him the other to be a spectator of his cala- 
 mities. He was afterwards (to render his ambition 
 more ridiculous) set upon an ass, with his face to- 
 wards its tail, which was put in his hand instead of 
 a sceptre, and, in lieu of a diadem, he had a crown 
 made of onions : in this condition he was led through 
 the streets of Constantinople ; and, having suffered 
 the most cruel indignities, was at last delivered 
 up to the people, who pleased themselves with tear- 
 ing to pieces this victim of their just fury. 
 
 ,/rhis high station affords us partisans and flat- 
 terers, but no friends : our oiiards themselves ought 
 to be distrusted. " If the face," says one of the 
 ancients, " can disguise the anxious agitations of the 
 soul, we are not for that less happy ; since we pass 
 our life in continual fears and alarms, and are always 
 in dano:er of beinff the sacrifice of those we hold in- 
 slavery : it is, therefore, no better than seeking for 
 safety and quiet in the midst of tumult and con- 
 fusion.
 
 WITH COMMENTS AND REFLECTIONS. 141 
 
 MAXIM VII. 
 
 No pleasure is an evil in itself: that is only to be 
 esteemed such which is followed by a greater morti- 
 fication and uneasiness than the satisfaction of its 
 enjoyment amounted to. If it could sum itself up 
 entirely, and that it included in its duration the most 
 consummate delight, it would be always without 
 disquiet ; and this union of all that is charming would 
 be as complete as any-thing nature does in the most 
 accomplished of its works : then there would be no 
 difference in pleasures, and they might be partaken 
 of without distinction or choice. 
 
 REFLECTION. 
 
 Epicurus pretends, that things are neither good 
 nor evil of themselves ; and that we ought to seek 
 them, or fly from them, only by reason of their con- 
 sequences and effects. Thus, prudence is desirable, 
 because it regulates our life ; temperance, because it 
 establishes quiet in us, and procures health ; and 
 magnanimity and justice, for their respective utili- 
 ties : so pleasure is nothing in itself ; but, if it be of 
 the same character with that which we feel when we 
 triumph over our passions, then it is most excellent : 
 as, on the contrary, if it be sought after in lewd- 
 ness and debauchery, it is an evil of the greatest 
 magnitude.
 
 142 THE MORALS OF EPICURUS, 
 
 MAXIM VIII. 
 
 If what tielights men in lascivious pleasures could 
 at the same time root out of their minds the terror 
 they conceive of those things that are above them, — ■ 
 the fear of the gods, and the alarms which the thought 
 of death causes ; and that they could therein find the 
 secret of desiring what is necessary for a good life ; 
 I should be in the wrong to find fault with them, 
 since they would enjoy the most consummate and 
 perfect pleasure, and nothing would be able in tho 
 least to disturb their tranquillity. 
 
 REFLECTIOX. 
 
 It is without reason that Cicero so furiously in- 
 veighs against Epicurus on this maxim : but the de- 
 fence of the Stoics, rather than of the truth, is the 
 real cause of his transport. ^Vlien our philosopher 
 says, he w^ould forgive those who plunge themselves 
 into pleasure, provided they could there find tran- 
 quillity of mind and health of body, it must be 
 looked upon as a mere supposition he makes, which 
 is very well known to be impossible, according to his 
 moral ; since the happiness as well as security of life, 
 as he before declares it, are no-where to be found 
 without prudence, honesty, humanity, and justice. 
 
 AVe see Nero, amidst the criminal inventions of a 
 thousand different pleasures, fill Rome with slaugh- 
 ter, to secure his life : and Heliogabalus, who had, 
 in a manner, drained nature to satiate his dissolute 
 and vicious inclinations, — who made nothing of
 
 WITH COMMENTS AND REFLECTIONS. 143 
 
 spending sixty thousand crowns at a meal, — who lay 
 in a chamber of gold,— was, notwithstanding, in 
 continual apprehension and fear : death was so ter- 
 rible to him, that the soldiers who killed him found 
 liim in a house of easement, where he had hid him- 
 self in hopes to shun it. 
 
 There can be no content, satisfaction, nor ease of 
 mind, where there is an unbridled loose given to the 
 passions ; and our philosopher spoke after this man- 
 ner only to inspire the greater aversion and abhor- 
 rence of effeminate pleasures, and to make us 
 betake ourselves to better courses, by means of con- 
 templation. 
 
 He will have us consider those vast motions that 
 are performed over our heads, as being natural ef- 
 fects : moreover, he requires we should penetrate 
 into the cause of all extraordinary products ; to the 
 end, that, being no longer in ignorance, we may have 
 no apprehension of death, nor of any of those things 
 that commonly startle man. And it is most certain 
 that he who abandons himself to the pleasures of 
 love, as Epicurus Avell observes, is thereby rendered 
 incapable of speculating and gaining an insight into 
 the knowledge of nature, because this passion 
 weakens the mind, and, loading us with all sorts of 
 distempers, hastens upon us all the infirmities of old 
 age. 
 
 There is, perhaps, one part of this maxim that our 
 philosopher mistakes for a good, viz, — not to dread 
 the gods, which must be owned to be altogether 
 impolitic ; for, although they were but men, tlie 
 community and vulgar sort were bridled and kept in
 
 144 THE MORALS OF EPICURUS, 
 
 awe thereby. But, as for Christian wisdom, it can 
 never be perfect without a reUgious fear of the 
 Deity. 
 
 MAXIM IX. 
 
 If M'hat we behold as miraculous in the heavens 
 did not terrify us, — if we could reflect enough to 
 overcome the fear of death, because it in no-wise 
 concerns us, — if, in line, our knowledge went so far as 
 to find out the true end of all the evils and good 
 things, — the study of physical speculations would be 
 altogether useless and unnecessary. It is a thing 
 impossible, that he who trembles at the sight of the 
 prodigies of nature, and is startled at all the events 
 of life, should be ever exempt from fear : he must 
 consider the vast extent of things, and penetrate into 
 it ; he must cure his mind of the ridiculous impres- 
 sions of fables, — for, without the discovery and 
 knowledge of nature, there can be no taste of true 
 pleasure. 
 
 REFLECTION. 
 
 Our philosopher here differs very much from 
 Socrates, who despised the knowledge of nature, and 
 would have us busy ourselves with no other study 
 than that of morals ; because he held the knowledge 
 of natural things to be of no utility towards the re- 
 formation of our vicious inclinations, and that what 
 passed in the heavens did not belong to our enquiry.
 
 WITH COMMENTS AND REFLECTIONS. 145 
 
 Epicurus, on the contrary, will have us pry and 
 search into the secrets of Physic, not for its own 
 sake, but because it enlightens the mind, discusses 
 and examines the causes and the end of all, makes 
 us despise death, and supplies us with remedies 
 against fear ; which are certain and sure means to 
 live and die peaceably. 
 
 Justin gives us an instance of the truth of this 
 maxim, in the person of Epaminondas, who, being 
 dangerously wounded, was carried out of the battle: 
 when he came to himself, he knew he must die, but 
 shewed no more concern at the approach of death 
 than he had expressed in the fury of the action. The 
 first thing he asked was, whether his buckler was 
 safe ? which, it seems, was the only thing he feared 
 the loss of: when he understood it was, he ordered it 
 to be brought to him, and kissed it, as the witness of 
 his glory and labours. Then, being informed the 
 Thebans had got the victory, " I am satisfied," says 
 he ; and with those words expired, ending his life, 
 which he had so often exposed for his country, with 
 a congratulation on the success of its arms. 
 
 The true cause of so many glorious actions, and 
 so fine a death, was without doubt the great progress 
 he had made in philosophy. It was the subject of 
 admiration, that he, who had been brought up in 
 arms, should be so great a proficient in the sciences : 
 it w as by their means he had gained such a contempt 
 for riches, as not to leave wherewith to be buried ; 
 and it was by the help of his attainments that he 
 was always intrepid, and that he never swerved 
 from the precepts of wisdom ; insomuch, that it
 
 146 THE MORALS OF EPICURUS, 
 
 m'lohi he saiti, he was not a less honest and virtuous 
 man than a g:reat captain. 
 
 *' He that will," says Seneca, " be void of fear and 
 despise fortune, that will look upon its promises as 
 mere chimerae, receive its attacks without disturb- 
 ance, and, in fine, pass his life happily and quietly, 
 — ought never to discontinue the study of philoso- 
 phy : she only can so satisfy his inind as to make him 
 covet nothing, and remain unshaken in the station in 
 which she has placed him. 
 
 MAXIM X. 
 
 It is of little use not to be afraid of men, if we 
 still doubt how things are transacted in the heavens, 
 upon the earth, and in the vast immensity of the 
 great whole. AVliat quiet or rest can he have who 
 is not armed in himself against all that can terrify or 
 discompose his interior ? 
 
 REFLECTION. 
 
 Lucretius expresses admirably well Epicurus' 
 thought : " It is in vain," says he, " that man labours 
 incessantly to heap up wealth ; that he looks upon 
 nobility as the centre of his vanity ; and that he ex- 
 poses his life to gratify his ambition : nay, the glory 
 of commandino; is useless to his felicity." In eflbct, 
 what can be hoped from these advantages, if our 
 passions rage and disturb us, — if the thoughts of 
 death seize us, — if fortune divert itself with the 
 credulity and foolery of our hopes, — and if, at the
 
 WITH COMMENTS AND REFLECTIONS, 147 
 
 same time that we make the world tremble by the 
 strength of our power, we want in ourselves firm- 
 ness and constancy of mind 1 
 
 MecsBnas was not contented, though the favourite 
 of Augustus : the fear of death racked him so cru- 
 elly, that, as Seneca relates, he wished to live always, 
 though it were in pain and torment. Xerxes, in a 
 manner, dispeopled the world to punish Greece : his 
 expedition proved, nevertheless, unsuccessful ; and 
 his numberless army could not protect him from the 
 disgrace he received through his want of courage. 
 
 Epicurus holds, that it is not sufficient to be secure 
 in reference to men, but that we must be so likewise 
 with reference to any inward agitations that may 
 disquiet us and render us unhappy. A citadel well 
 guarded, and a numerous army, may sometimes 
 protect us from the storms that the seditious fury and 
 treason of the people may raise ; but these are only 
 weak and ineffectual remedies against what perse- 
 cutes us inwardly. A clap of thunder, a dream, a 
 sudden fear, shall make a prince tremble, though 
 surrounded with his guards : an unruly passion shall 
 devour him in his palace ; and he who commands 
 others is unhappy enough not to be his own master. 
 
 We should, therefore, seek for this help from 
 philosophy, which the generality make their pride to 
 be ignorant of, though at the same time true glory 
 can only fall to the share of the learned ; and that the 
 unaccountable rise of an ignorant man, who has no 
 other merit than the favour of fortune, ought to be 
 his shame.
 
 148 THE MORALS OF EPICURUS, 
 
 MAXIM XL 
 
 The quiet and safety that are found in sohtude 
 and retirement from the world, may be equally en- 
 joyed by us, though in it, provided that we keep 
 strictly to the medium of temperance, and confine 
 our desires to what Nature exacts for its preserva- 
 tion, which is common and easily to be procured. In 
 effect, whatever she counts most delicious and ex- 
 quisite is common and limited ; but, if we listen to 
 tlie wanton appetites opinion creates, when it is de- 
 ceived by false appearances, our luxury shall be 
 insatiable, and nothing shall be able to satisfy it. 
 
 REFLECTION. 
 
 It is certain that retirement contributes very mucli 
 to the happiness of life, because it is almost a sure 
 means to meditate with success. AVherefore, Dio- 
 clesian, having swayed the empire with all the glory 
 of a conqueror, not linding therein the tranquillity he 
 desired, preferred, to the ambition of reigning, the 
 quiet of his mind, and esteemed himself more happy 
 in a little country-house, where he employed him- 
 self in cultivating the earth, than he had been in 
 magnificent palaces : and, notwithstanding he was 
 afterwards solicited to re-assume the government, he 
 never would quit that way of living. 
 
 In effect, the mind there exercises its faculties 
 more freely, and the body is not so liable to be dis- 
 composed ; the passions do not find matter to pro- 
 voke their fury or weakness ; and we are out of danger 
 of being moved by the flattering ideas of objects. 
 3
 
 WITH COMMENTS AND REFLECTIONS. 149 
 
 But, in Epicurus' opinion, there is a more heroic way 
 to the felicity of this world ; which is, to remain 
 amonj2;st its commotions and disturbances, without 
 partaking- of them, — to be in a shipwreck, without 
 perishing ; it is to be firm against the softness of 
 pleasures ; it is, in fine, to have plenty, and yet be 
 contented with little, since nature would not be 
 loaded with superfluous delicacies, and requires only 
 what is necessary. 
 
 MAXIM XII. 
 
 The AVise-man can never have but a moderate 
 fortune ; but, if he is not considerable by the advan- 
 tages that depend on it, the greatness of his mind 
 and the excellency of his counsels are sufficient to 
 distino;uish him from the rest of mankind : these are 
 the chief springs of the most remarkable events of 
 life. 
 
 REFLECTION. 
 
 The Wise-man is seldom Fortune's favourite : her 
 bounties are generally the lot of mean souls, and he 
 is above that despicable condition. What is not a 
 man forced to do to catch the time when she is in the 
 -humour ? A minute procures her whole influence, 
 and the next loses all her favour ; and sometimes it 
 is the labour of a man's life to fix this unaccountable 
 being, unless it be to his destruction. 
 . She delights in giving us vain hopes, and, when 
 we think we are sure of them, she takes pleasure in 
 
 Y
 
 150 THE MORALS OF EPICURUS, 
 
 disappointing us ; she flatters us, only to be more 
 vexatious. It is an unhappy thing to be her slave ; 
 she challenges all our vigilance and care, and is 
 jealous if all our time is not sacrificed to her capri- 
 ciousness. 
 
 The Wise-man, who is acquainted with her con-, 
 duct and inconstancy, seeks his quiet in contempla- 
 tion ; for, as Fortune does not act with discretion, 
 and that one must be amongst the crowd of her 
 devotees to hope for any thing from her, she does not 
 pry into a corner to seek a person worthy of her 
 favours : on the contrary, she avoids merit as much 
 as she can, and loads with her bounties whom she 
 pleases. 
 
 Wherefore our philosopher asserts, that he that is 
 endowed with the solid advantages of wisdom, de- 
 spises those that are to be hoped for from her injus^ 
 tice ; being fully satisfied with the interior pleasures 
 which the study of philosophy affords, by the excellency 
 of which he excels the rest of his age in his notions, 
 and by the strength of whose arguments, and the 
 exactness of whose counsels, he easily reduces them 
 into practice. 
 
 Aristides was so poor that the public was at the 
 charge of clothing him when he went to command 
 the army of the Athenians ; and yet he was one of the 
 greatest captains Greece ever produced : he beat the 
 Persians at Marathon ; he drove away Xerxes, who 
 designed the utter ruin of his country; and was 
 surnamed the Just. 
 
 I have followed Vitruvius' thought in the explica-- 
 tion of this maxim ; though some are of opinion tliat
 
 WITH Comments and reflections. 151 
 
 Epiciims' meaning is best explained by Seneca, who 
 says, that the wise man should be satisfied with 
 little : but I think the first interpretation most pro- 
 bable, because the wise man, being* for the most 
 part disgraced by fortune, is recompensed (as our 
 philosopher well observes) with the gifts of the mind. 
 It Is certain that, without exclaiming against her in- 
 constancy, he is always contented with a medjocrity, 
 according to the precepts of philosophy. 
 
 MAXIM XIII. 
 
 The just is, of all mankind, he that lives freest 
 from trouble and disorder ; whereas, the unjust, on 
 the contrary, is always disturbed and perplexed. 
 
 reflection. 
 
 *' The just," says Solomon, " is not subject to in- 
 constancy : he is ever the same, he never sullies the 
 beauty of his character ; he is both man and immor- 
 tal at the same time." — ''How blest is the just!" 
 says Themistius : "he is not inferior to Jupiter in 
 power ; he not only commands men, but the very 
 elements ; it is he that is the cause of their fruitful 
 effects ; and it is through his means, and for his 
 sake, that their utility answers the expectation of 
 men." 
 
 He is of an undaunted courage, and void of fear. 
 Thus, Ceselius the lawyer could never be prevailed 
 on to register the cruel acts of the Triumviri : the 
 
 y2
 
 Iu2 THE MOUALS OF EPICURUS, 
 
 threats of those three persecutors of mankind cotilclr 
 not shake his constancy. 
 
 CaracaUa having desired Papinianus to justify be- 
 fore the senate the murder of his brother, which had 
 been perpetrated by his order, this eminent man, 
 who was looked upon as the very refuge of the law , 
 refused his eloquence to the injustice of this prince, 
 9.nd chose rather to die than cowardly obey him 
 and betray hi$ duty ; w hich would have rendered his. 
 life unhappy. 
 
 The just man is not blinded with ambition. 
 Atalus, being declared regent after the death of his 
 brother Eumenes, never would suffer his own children 
 to be educated as if they had a right to the empire, 
 notwithstanding the pressing instances of Stmtonice, 
 who was widow to the deceased king, and whom 
 Atalus had afterwards married : on the contrary, he 
 resigned the sceptre to his pupil, as soon as he had 
 attained the age that was required to govern. 
 
 The just man condemns himself, rathet than be 
 tormented w ith the thought of having acted contrary 
 to justice. Charondas, one of the Athenian legisla- 
 tors, having made a law by which he forbade any- 
 body to appear armed in the public assemblies, 
 chancing to be at one of them, in his return from the 
 country, without having laid by his sword, killed 
 himself upon the spot, to ratify the law^ he had made, 
 and to confirm it by the punishment he inflicted on 
 himself. 
 
 In fine, the just man is always happy : it was what 
 made the Emperor Nerva, after a strict examination 
 of liis life, declare, he did not find iiiniself conscious
 
 WITH COMMENTS AND REFLECTIONS. 153 
 
 of aiiy-thiiig that could hinder him from living with- 
 out fear, though he should abdicate the dignity of 
 emperor. It was usual among the Persians rather 
 to disobey the prince than act any-thing that was 
 unjust : nay, the kings themselves made them tako 
 .an oath to this effect, when they entered upon any 
 office or employment. 
 
 It is with great reason that our philosopher pro* 
 mises the just man an unalterable tranquillity, and 
 assures us, at the same time, that the unjust is ever 
 unhappy, because every thing terrifies him, and he is 
 in continual fears and distrust. 
 
 Dionysius, the tyrant, entrenched his house ; no- 
 body was suffered to enter his chamber, which was 
 always well guarded : notwithstanding this, he was 
 not free from fear : his wives, his brother, nay, his 
 own son, were not suffered to approach him without 
 beino- searched whether they had anv arms about 
 them, under their clothes. All this precaution could 
 not, however, make him easy. He caused his hair 
 to be singed off with live coals, not daring to trust 
 them to make use of scissars, lest they shoidd attempt 
 his life. He w as always restless and uneasy, notwith- 
 standing all thi^ care, and trembled at his own ima- 
 ginary fears. — What a picture is here of an unjust, 
 man ! 
 
 MAXIM XIV. 
 
 The pleasure of the body, which is nothing else 
 tlian the seeking to avoid that pain which attends tlie
 
 154 THE MORALS OP EPICURUS, 
 
 want of something nature requires, is incapable of 
 increase or augmentation : it is only diversified ac- 
 cordino- as circumstances are difl'erent. But the 
 pleasure the mind proposes, as the end of its felicity^ 
 depends entirely on the manner how we cure our- 
 selves of those chimerical notions, and whatever has- 
 any affinity with them, by reason they disturb the 
 mind. 
 
 REFLECTION. 
 
 Our philosopher does not imitate the Stoics : he 
 does not make use of invectives to repel their calum- 
 nies, neither does he maliciously interpret their senti- 
 ments : he is contented, without naming them, to 
 declare, in several places of his writings, that his 
 opinion concerning the nature of good is misinter- 
 preted and disingenuously explained ; and, it being 
 a thing of consequence and moment, he frequently 
 repeats what he means by the word pleasure. 
 
 It is, says he, the tranquillity of the mind ; it i» 
 the contemplation of all that passes in the universe ; 
 it is to check the fury of the passions ; it is, in fine, 
 the knowing how to cure ourselves of false impres- 
 sions, which, being for the most part nothing but 
 fiibles, are most commonly the source of all our 
 fears. 
 
 Man would be happy, — it is in his power to be so ; 
 and nevertheless he rambles from the w ay that leads 
 to that state, at the very moment he labours to attain 
 it : for, the felicity of life consisting in that unshaken 
 firmness and constancy we have armed ourselves 
 with against all events, he, on the contrary, is sur-
 
 WITH COMMENTS AND REFLECTIONS. 155 
 
 prised at the smallest things ; his reflections disturb 
 him, and he is perplexed in his enquiries ; and, sink- 
 ing under the burthen of his misfortunes, he passes 
 his life miserably in imaginary fears and alarms. 
 
 MAXIM XV. 
 
 If it were possible for man to live for ever, the 
 pleasure he would receive therefrom would not be 
 greater than what he might experience during the 
 limited space of his life, if he could sufficiently refine 
 his reason to know the true scope and end thereof. 
 
 REFLECTION. 
 
 Pleasure, according to Epicurus, consists in the 
 being void of fear, without disturbance, and free 
 from pain. Philosophy teaches us the means to avoid 
 these things : she places us in that secure state that 
 is the very bliss of life, and so completes its felicity ; 
 (SO that, were that to be much longer, this would not 
 be more perfect, because nothing can go beyond the 
 calm of the mind and the healt'i of the body, — these 
 two things being the constituents of pleasure. 
 
 Seneca is of this opinion : " When once," says 
 this philosopher, " I have discharged the duty I owe 
 to myself, that my mind is so fixed and settled that 
 no event whatever can ruffle or disturb it, and that 
 it is duly informed wherein consists the happiness of 
 man, 1 make no difference between a day and an 
 a-e."
 
 156 THE MORALS OF EPICURUS, 
 
 MAXIM XVI. 
 
 Nature has prescribed bounds to the pleasures of 
 the body ; we lose all the sweetness thereof when we 
 wish it were everlastino;: but the mind reforms this 
 error, and reasons with exactness on the scope and 
 end the pleasure of the body ought to have, as well as 
 concerning*: what is to cause its last dissolution. 
 
 It shews us that the desire of an unlimited plea- 
 sure is ridiculous, and, by so doing, renders our life 
 perfectly happy ; insomuch, that man, being satisfied 
 with his manner of living, has no need, for its feli- 
 city, of infinity of time : nay, he is not deprived of 
 pleasure, though he perceives that his mortal condi- 
 tion leads him insensibly to the grave, since he there 
 "finds what happily finishes his course. 
 
 REFLECTION I. 
 
 Epicurus shews, in this maxim, that the unhappi- 
 ness of man proceeds from his being insatiable : he 
 rebels against Nature, which is .content with little ; 
 and, far from following the dictates she inspires, he 
 liears her counsels with contempt, and flatters himself 
 that he knows better than she how he ought to lead 
 his life. If he obtains what he desires, he soon grows 
 weary of it ; he is never contented, because he is 
 always upon the search ; he fancies for his felicity 
 what causes his unhappiness ; he will enrich nature 
 by overlading it ; he thinks there can be no pleasure 
 but in excess ; and, when he plunged himself therein 
 to gratify his avidity, he is more unhappy thau
 
 WITH COMMENTS AND REFLECTIONS. 157 
 
 before, because that very excess is but temporary, — 
 whereas, he would have it everlasting'. 
 
 Seneca has well digested our philosopher's notion. 
 '' What enemy," says he, " has been more cruel to- 
 wards the objects of his hatred, than irregular and 
 unwarrantable pleasures are to those who abandon 
 themselves to their criminal effects ?" It is with the 
 greatest justice they are persecuted by the fury 
 thereof, which must needs be infinite when these 
 pleasures go beyond the bounds prescribed by Na- 
 ture, who has a certain medium, beyond which to 
 force her is to use violence to her. But whatever 
 luxury and debauchery require, is without bounds. 
 The necessary is measured by its utility ; whereas, 
 what is superfluous can have no moderation. 
 
 REFLECTION II. 
 
 The latter part of this maxim is a consequence of 
 the sentiments of our philosopher : he will have us 
 constantly meditating how to live well, and how to 
 die well : he looks upon these two things to be inse- 
 parable, because they constitute the happiness of life. 
 To live well, according to him, is to keep in subjec- 
 tion the violence of the passions ; and to die well, is 
 to have foreseen this last end, and be prepared against 
 its alarms. 
 
 He says, in several places, that life is pleasant and 
 delightful when we pass it in contemplation, and 
 make a good use of its reflections, and enjoy the ex- 
 cellency of their practice. Death is also a good 
 thing, when we behold its approach without fear ; but 
 we ought not to desire it, says our philosopher, ac- 
 
 z
 
 158 THE MORALS OF EPICURUS, 
 
 cording to Seneca : we should neither be too fond of 
 life, nor too much out of conceit with it, and we 
 ought not to leave it by a rash and precipitate reso- 
 hition. A wise and magnanimous man may upon 
 occasion retire from the world, but it is unworthy of 
 him that his departure should look like a flight. 
 
 MAXIM XVII. 
 
 He that has discovered after what manner Nature 
 has limited all things relating to life, must needs 
 know the means to get rid of that uneasiness the 
 body feels when it wants any thing, and must have 
 found out the happy secret of rightly ordering the 
 whole course of his life so that he has no occasion to 
 seek his felicity in those things, the acquisition 
 whereof is full of uncertainty and danger. 
 
 REFLECTION. 
 
 Wliile Nature is our guide, we know how to con- 
 fine ourselves to what she requires ; we are sensible 
 what is requisite to preserve the body free from pain ; 
 we know, in fine, what is necessary for that sort of 
 life that is without disturbance or fear. 
 
 "Happy is he," says Seneca, " who applies the 
 activity of his mind to good : it is then he may be 
 said to emancipate himself from the tyrannical power 
 of fortune ; he is moderate in prosperity ; adversity 
 cannot affect him so as to shake his constancy, and 
 he beholds, without concern, what astonishes other 
 people. To him alone it belongs to despise, by the 
 3
 
 WITH COMMENTS AND REFLECTIONS. 159 
 
 strength of his reason, what may be his ruin, and to 
 prefer an exact medium to all that is excessive ; be- 
 cause the one is useful for the comfort of life, and 
 excess, as it is superfluous, can have only dangerous 
 consequences. 
 
 MAXIM XVIII. 
 
 There are two sorts of pleasures, — those that 
 Nature inspires, and those that are superfluous ; 
 there are others, which, though natural, are never- 
 theless of no utility ; and there are some that are not 
 conformable to the bent of Nature, and which she no 
 way requires : these serve only to gratify the whim- 
 sical chimeras opinion raises. 
 
 Those Epicurus esteems natural and necessary to 
 banish pain,* as it happens when we drink, being 
 very dry. He calls those natural unnecessary ones 
 that only serv^e to diversify pleasure, and that are not 
 requisite to drive away pain : of this kind is delicious 
 fare. There are others, again, neither natural nor 
 necessary, — as crowns of flowers and statues. 
 
 Those pleasures which are natural cause no unea- 
 siness, provided there be moderation in the case : if 
 they go beyond the bounds prescribed to pleasure, 
 they are forced in their end, but we hope to find 
 something agreeable in that excess ; which vain ex- 
 pectation proceeds from the foolish opinion of 
 men. 
 
 * Diogenes speaks. 
 z2
 
 160 THE MORALS OF EPICURUS, 
 
 REFLECTION. 
 
 This maxim is admirably described by Lucretius. 
 " Epicurus )" says he, " knew very well the art of' 
 fixing our desires by the precepts of wisdom, and 
 banishins: whatever creates our fears : he has shewn 
 us where to find the sovereign good, and how to en- 
 joy it; he condemns the insatiable avidity of man, 
 and has made him sensible that the occupation of his 
 whole life was nothing else than the fruitless labour 
 of the Danaids." 
 
 Moderation is always the character of our philo- 
 sopher : she is, according to him, the very source of 
 felicity, and the only means to want nothing : in fine, 
 Wisdom teaches us how to restrain our passions ; she 
 shews us that certain medium, whose bounds must 
 not be passed if we consult the satisfaction of the 
 mind or body, and makes us know that the chief utin 
 lity of life consists in the nequid uimis. 
 
 MAXIM XIX. 
 
 Of all the things Wisdom supplies us with for a 
 happy life, there is none more considerable than that 
 of a true friend. He that is strongly persuaded that 
 there is nothing in life more solid than friendship, 
 knows how to fortify his mind against the fear that i§ 
 caused by the duration or eternity of pain. 
 
 REFLECTION. 
 
 A true friend is so charming a thing, that Scipio 
 would never leave the forum till he had gained the
 
 WITH COMMENTS AND REFLECTIONS. 161 
 
 friendship of somebody. Solomon assures us, that 
 he is a constant protector, who never forsakes our 
 interest, — that, in our absence, opposes the enemies 
 of our fortune or merit, — that parries the strokes of 
 those who envy or cahimniate us. It is, says this 
 wise king, such a treasure, as far exceeds whatever 
 we can imagine. Gold and silver, which make men 
 violate those things that are most holy, have not 
 power enough to alter his fidelity : he therefore con- 
 cludes, that a faithful friend is an infallible remedy 
 against all misfortunes, and that by his means one 
 may in a manner become immortal. 
 
 It is this perfect friendship that Epicurus believed 
 none capable of but the Wise-man : he maintained, 
 that he alone could know its delicacy, and that his 
 whole application was necessary to acquit himself 
 duly thereof. He shews, in several places, the value 
 he had for this commerce, which he thought none 
 but philosophers could carry on with discretion : and 
 he adds here, that nothing can so much contribute 
 to make life happy as this mutual union, of whose 
 wonderful effects there have been heretofore several 
 instances, that posterity has looked upon as inimi- 
 table, through the corruption of that noble cause that 
 gave them birth. 
 
 How ravishing is the consolation of a true friend ! 
 — it is an invincible succour against fortune ; it is 
 an impenetrable buckler against the darts of infi- 
 delity : he suffers with pleasure for what he loves ; 
 nay, encounters death itself to preserve its life. 
 But such a friend is now-a-days sought for in vain. 
 This is well observed by the oracle of wise men ;—
 
 162 THE MORALS OF EPICURUS, 
 
 '•Man," says he, "shall loudly declare it has teen 
 all in vain, the indefatigable pains I have taken to 
 make myself friends : adversity has made me sen- 
 sible I was imposed upon, and that all the promises 
 that were made me were never intended to be exe- 
 cuted, if occasion required. The oaths that were 
 taken to cement our union were so many perjuries ; 
 experience has taught me they were only wind : — is 
 it without cause that I afflict myself, and die almost 
 with grief?" 
 
 MAXIM XX. 
 
 Common right is nothing else than that utility 
 which has been acknowledged, by universal consent, 
 to be the cause of that justice men have observed 
 one towards another. It is by the help thereof that, 
 without offendino- others, or beino- offended them- 
 selves, they lived free from insult; because in all their 
 desires they had Nature for their guide. 
 
 REFLECTION. 
 
 The Stoics, as Cicero reports, pretended that 
 Nature had inspired men with that common right 
 which maintained their union, and established 
 civil society by the equity of its laws. Cujas, the 
 famous lawyer, was of their opinion. But Epicurus, 
 as Lucretius well observes, had an idea that the 
 primitive men, being the product of the earth, were 
 likewise tainted with the rusticitv of their first mo-
 
 WITH COMMENTS AND REFLECTIOXS. 16S' 
 
 ther, and that they lived after a beast-like manner, 
 without method or order, and without any partition 
 of the wealth of the world ; from whence it happened 
 that the strongest always overcame the weakest, and 
 that all things were in such confusion that mankind 
 had nothing to expect but utter ruin and destruction, 
 had not they who had a clearer sight than others 
 made it their business to improve the rest, and made 
 them know that it was of the last consequence to 
 make laws, which, by their own nature, and of them- 
 selves, could redress their evils. 
 
 They afterwards shewed (as Plato relates, treat- 
 ing of the origin of justice,) that the vengeance that 
 was usually taken, was the cause of fresh outrage ; 
 and that it was therefore necessary to constitute such 
 laws as might restrain the one from offending, and 
 the other from being offended. This was also Epi- 
 curus' sentiment, as Lucretius reports it, which is 
 agreeable to his system concerning the fortuitous 
 birth of men : he looked upon it as a thing impos- 
 sible, that Nature should give them so perfect an 
 idea of that mutual justice which the laws enforce, 
 because she was rough and unpolished in them, and 
 they followed entirely their inclination and temper, 
 which learning had not yet refined : and as our phi- 
 losopher was convinced (as Seneca informs us) that 
 there was a sort of wise men, who owed all their 
 wisdom to their natural principles and composition, 
 so it happened in this first constitution of the world, 
 which afforded some who saw the indispensible ne- 
 cessity of prescribing to men a regular way of living, 
 and at the same time making them sensible of the
 
 164 THE MORALS OF EPICURUSj 
 
 necessity there was to submit to certain laws, the 
 infringing' whereof should be capital. 
 
 If justice and equity were by Nature imprinted in 
 man's soul, has not Epicurus reason to enquire of 
 the Stoics, how it came to pass that more than na- 
 tural reason was requisite in the first institution of 
 Jaws, and that the primitive legislators were obliged 
 to have recourse to divine power to make their laws^ 
 be received with applause ? 
 
 Numa Pompilius prevailed with the Romans to 
 submit to his decrees and ordinances, by first per- 
 suading them that he conversed familiarly with the 
 goddess Egeria, for whom they had a particular ve- 
 neration. Licurg'us made the same use of the oracle 
 of Apollo, to gain credit with the Athenians ; and 
 Zaleucus gave what laws he pleased to the Locrians, 
 because he had the address to make them believe 
 that Minerva frequently appeared to him, and in- 
 structed him how to reform and polish them. The 
 Hebrews also received, without a murmur, the two 
 tables of laws, which Moses received twice from 
 God : and Mahomet pretended to have passed into 
 the highest heavens, in one night, on the back of a 
 beautiful ass, called Al Borak, and to have received 
 the laws contained in the Koran at different times 
 from the hands of the angel Gabriel ; also of his 
 having conversed with Abraham, Moses, and Christ, 
 which his followers implicitly believed.* 
 
 * IIow easily have people, in all ages and countries, been per- 
 suaded to lend their belief to supernatural and invisible affairs: 
 but what will most of all astonish posterity is, to know that, in the
 
 WITH COMMENTS AND REFLECTIONS. 165 
 
 MAXIM XXI. 
 
 We are neither just nor unjust to brutes, whose 
 fierce nature will not suffer them to abide with man 
 without attacking him, and consequently without 
 being attacked by him : the case is the same with 
 those nations, with whom we cannot settle such an 
 alliance as is requisite for a mutual safety. 
 
 REFLECTION. 
 
 Epicurus looked upon Nature as the surest guide 
 for the happiness of life ; and, although he had a due 
 regard to man for the excellency of his reason, he 
 considered, at the same time, the unhappiness into 
 which his false notions had cast him : insomuch, 
 that he seemed to be prepossessed in favour of 
 brutes, on the score of their easy way of living, since 
 he would have us, in imitation of them, make our- 
 selves happy by seeking pleasure and avoiding pain^ 
 — which they do by natural instinct. 
 
 Our philosopher, therefore, pretends, that thos& 
 brutes who live inoffensively amongst us deserve a 
 
 present enlightened age, and in England too, an ignorant old vvoniau 
 should have nearly 50,000 believers in her new doctrines of salvaj 
 tion, and of having had intercourse with invisible and superior 
 powers, — of being miraculously impregnated, as a virgin, with a 
 second Shiloh ! ! ! Who, after this violent outrage on common sense, 
 —after this unexampled range of credulity in the midst of an in- 
 telligent part of mankind, — can with propriety condemn or ridicule 
 the poor uneducated Catholic or Mahommedan, who receives from 
 his earliest childhood, — nay, even at his mother's breast, — the tales 
 and fables which priestcraft invites him to believe and profess ?— 
 
 iiDlTOR, 
 
 A a
 
 166 THE MORALS OF EPICURUS, 
 
 gentle and, as it were, a just usage from us ; where- 
 as, those we find to be destructive and pernicious to 
 us may be destroyed without injustice. 
 
 This opinion has had its followers. The fidelity 
 of dogs and other animals has been frequently expe- 
 rienced, and posterity has been careful to preserve 
 the memory thereof in several instances. Plutarch 
 tells a story of one Caeranus, of the island Paros, 
 who, having bought some dolphins that were fresh 
 taken, flung them immediately into the sea again : a 
 little time after, a small boat, in which he chanced 
 to be, sunk, and one of these dolphins carried him 
 safe to the shore. He adds something still more 
 Surprising, that the same man having died, as they 
 were burning his corpse, those fish were observed to 
 continue their gratitude, appearing near the bank, as 
 if they assisted at his funeral. 
 
 Alexander the Great, who had conquered so many 
 kings, thought he did an act of justice when he built 
 Bucephala in memory of his horse, that would never 
 suffer any-body else to get upon his back, and had 
 carried him in most of his battles, and died of the 
 wounds he received in one. 
 
 MAXIM XXII. 
 
 Justice is nothing in itself: mankind, united in 
 society, discovered the utility and advantage of 
 agreeing among themselves to observe certain con- 
 ditions for their living inoifensively one towards 
 another.
 
 WITH COMMENTS AND REFLECTIONS. 167 
 REFLECTION. 
 
 Aristippus, as Diogenes Laertius relates, did not 
 allow of any natural right : he would have it, that 
 laws and customs made the just or unjust. Aristode 
 assures us, that some philosophers have held that 
 opinion, and that for this reason, that what Nature 
 ordained was fixed and unalterable ; whereas, the 
 laws were liable to change. He says in another 
 place, that those who maintain that there is any thing 
 naturally just or unjust, exclusive of society, rather 
 speak at random than prove their opinion. 
 
 One would think that Epicurus here supposes, 
 there are some people altogether so wild and brutish 
 as to live without any order or rule, which is not very 
 probable : there are none to be found who have not 
 some laws by which to govern themselves ; they are, 
 therefore, at least just with respect to themselves. 
 The men-eaters, the cannibals, and other nations 
 lately discovered, have among them a sort of justice 
 which they religiously observe one towards another. 
 It is impossible for four or five persons, how wild 
 soever or brutish they may be, to hold any commerce 
 with each other, without learning from time and 
 experience that there are some points to be agreed 
 upon, in order to their peaceable and quiet living', 
 and to prevent mischief; from whence it follows, by 
 a natural consequence, that Epicurus was much in 
 the riffht when he asserted, that it was society which 
 first discovered the utility of laws. 
 
 Aa2
 
 168 THE MORALS OF EPICURUS, 
 
 MAXIM XXIII. 
 
 Injustice is not in itself an evil, because what is 
 unjust in one country is just in another: it is only so 
 far an evil, as it holds us in perpetual fear by the 
 remorse of a disturbed conscience, which makes us 
 apprehend that our crimes may come to the know- 
 ledge of those who have power to punish them. 
 
 REFLECTION. 
 
 This maxim has afforded, to the enemies of Epi- 
 curus, matter on which to exercise their envy, but 
 yvithout reason, — since injustice, generally speaking, 
 is nothing ; and that the distinction between what is 
 just and unjust, in his opinion, owes its rise and 
 establishment to the division of wealth. Moreover, 
 Aristotle says, that what was not yet observed was in 
 itself indifferent ; but when, by a general consent, 
 such conditions and regidations were agreed to, it 
 became a necessity to observe them, or undergo the 
 consequent penalty : and is it not very plain that the 
 difference of place causes the variety of laws. 
 
 It was not reckoned a crime, in Persia, to marry 
 one's sister, — it is now almost universally considered 
 one. Theft was allowed in Sparta, when at the same 
 time it was punishable every-vihere else. 
 
 There are things that are capital in some places, 
 though lawful in others. That which made the first 
 ipan's crime was in itself indifferent ; it was the in- 
 terdiction that rendered it criminal. 
 
 What our philosopher advances here is a conse- 
 quence of what he before asserted, that prudence
 
 ■WITH COMMENTS AND REFLECTIONS. 169 
 
 and the other virtues were excellent only by their 
 effects : neither is injustice evil in itself, but only by 
 what attends it : one is tortured by the fear of pu- 
 nishment, if the crime be known ; and the conscience 
 is racked with remorse, if it be hid. Epicurus would 
 have it, that right depended entirely on the benefit 
 men received by the observation thereof, and that 
 legislators, in determining it, had still a regard to the 
 climate, to the temper of the inhabitants, and their 
 inclinations. He, therefore, argued after this man- 
 ner: — Whoever is guilty of such a crime, is only so 
 by reason of the law ; and that same law does not 
 exist in another country, and there, by consequence, 
 it would be none : and suppose it were, he would 
 then go further, and have recourse to Nature, which, 
 in the opinion of some philosophers, says Plato, in- 
 spires that whatever we are able to do, is an injurJ^ 
 He would, therefore, only be afraid that his crime 
 should be detected : and this fear, says Epicurus, if 
 there were no other reason, ought to be sufficient to 
 deter him from it. 
 
 No conclusion can be drawn from this to the pre- 
 judice of our philosopher, — since, in one of his 
 maxims, he has made the eulogium of the just man; 
 who, he says, is always prudent, magnanimous, and 
 wise, and by consequence quiet and undisturbed : 
 whereas, the unjust passes his life in continual dis- 
 order. 
 
 Plutarch, though a professed enemy of the Epicu- 
 reans, nevertheless owns that Epicurus did all that 
 lay in his power to give a horror of vice, and insinuate 
 that it was the most desirable thing m the world to
 
 170 THE MORALS OF EPICURUS, 
 
 have a peaceable conscience. In fine, Seneca quotes 
 a sentence of his that quite overthrows all that the 
 envious can allege against him. " We ought," says 
 our philosopher, quoted by the Stoic, " always to 
 propose to ourselves, though alone, somebody whose 
 life may serve us for an example, keeping him conti- 
 nually before our eyes, and live just as we would if he 
 beheld all our actions and read all our thoughts. 
 
 MAXIM XXIV. 
 
 It is impossible that he who has violated, though 
 ever so privately, the laws established to prevent 
 either our doing or receiving hurt, should be sure his 
 crime will not come to light ; for, although he has 
 not been detected in a thousand occasions, he may 
 with reason fear he shall be so before he dies. 
 
 REFLECTION. 
 
 Epicurus, who knew perfectly well the corruption, 
 of mankind, was sensible that the first obstacle to the 
 commission of crimes, is the fear of punishment that 
 ensues ; and that, when men abandoned themselves to 
 evil courses, it was still with hopes it should not be 
 known. But that is folly, as our philosopher excel- 
 lently observes ; for the criminal is persecuted by the 
 knowledge he himself has of it ; he carries his un- 
 easiness along w ith him wherever he goes, and sooner 
 or later he is discovered. 
 
 The truth is known at the long-run. Children in 
 Uie cradle have called for the punishment of the
 
 WITH COMMENTS AND REFLECTIONS. 171 
 
 guilty ; nay, the very elements have sometimes turned 
 informers of crimes. The murderers of Ibicus were 
 discovered by cranes : — that lyric poet, having been 
 assassinated in a wood, called those birds, which 
 chanced to fly by when the fact was committing, to 
 be witnesses of his death. Some time after, one of 
 the murderers standing in one of the public places of 
 the town, and seeing some cranes fly by, called to his 
 companions, and bade them behold the instruments 
 of Ibicus' vengeance : the magistrate, being informed 
 of this saying, caused them to be apprehended and 
 punished ; and they all confessed the fact when put 
 upon the rack. 
 
 The pains of the mind, the tortures of a disturbed 
 conscience, far exceed those of the most cruel tor- 
 ments the body can undergo ; the truth whereof has 
 been often confirmed by criminals, who have volun- 
 tarily delivered themselves up to justice, preferring 
 public punishment to their inW'ard disquiet. 
 
 But, if it were possible for a man to be so hardened 
 in vice as to have no remorse nor concern after the 
 commission of it, and that his power was such in 
 this world as to set him above the fear of punishment, 
 though his crimes were known, how will he answer 
 for them to the Almighty, whose knowledge nothing 
 can escape, and who leaves nothing unpunished, 
 either here or hereafter? His criminal obstinacy 
 will then be changed into despair, his power utterly 
 abolished, and eternity itself shall not be able to find 
 an end to his torments.
 
 IT2 THE MORALS OF EPICURUS, 
 
 MAXIM XXV. 
 
 Wliatever experience teaches us to be useful and 
 beneficial in reference to the community, ouo;ht to be 
 esteemed just, provided it be so contrived that every 
 one may find an advantage in it ; from whence it is 
 manifest that, whoever makes a law by which no 
 benefit accrues in the prosecution thereof, does that 
 which is unjust in its nature. 
 
 REFLECTION. 
 
 " Our ancestors," says Cicero, " had no other 
 view in their making of laws than the public good ; 
 and, if it iiappened that, upon experience thereof, 
 they were found detrimental, they immediately abro- 
 gated them." 
 
 Laws were not made because they were just in 
 themselves, but oh the score of the utility the public 
 received from the observance of them ; so that it 
 plainly appears that the legislator ought to consider a 
 great many things when he prescribes laws. They 
 may be good on certain occasions, but bad on others : 
 not but sudden changes are usually attended with ill 
 consequences ; for the people being used to the laws 
 aheady established, all innovation is suspected by 
 them. Zaleucus, for this reason, said, that they who 
 off'ered to make new laws, ought to propose them 
 with a rope about their neck ; because, if the legis- 
 lative assembly found any advantage in the change, 
 they might go off clear ; but if, on the contrary, the 
 commonwealth received any prejudice thereby, every 
 body might lay his hand to the rope» that the op- 
 pressor might perish immediately.
 
 WITH COMMENTS AND REFLECTIONS. 1731 
 
 MAXIM XXVI. 
 
 If a law be sometimes made without any present 
 utility, provided that it afterwards proves beneficial 
 to the republic, it shall still be esteemed just ; but 
 more particularly by those who make a general esti- 
 mate of things, and who take no delight to confound 
 matters by a frivolous discourse. 
 
 REFLECTION. 
 
 A state, in the making of laws, should chiefly con- 
 sider their utility : however, it may sometimes happen 
 that they may not altogether answer the legislator's 
 design; yet they shall be just, if they are beneficial. 
 For example, — the prince ordains that corn be tran- 
 sported into foreign countries ; it may prove either 
 useful or prejudicial : there is utility in it, if by that 
 means money be brought into the kingdom ; on the 
 other side, it is pernicious, if a famine be caused 
 thereby : but that shall not hinder this law from be- 
 ing thought just during the utility thereof. 
 
 MAXIM XXVII. 
 
 He who, by the counsel of prudence, shall under- 
 take to seek support in those things that are foreign 
 to us, shall find their acquisition easy and advan- 
 tageous : but he shall not trifle away his time in the 
 search of those that are impossible ; nay, he shall 
 neglect a great many of those that are attainable^ 
 
 B b
 
 i74 THE MORALS OF EPICURUS, 
 
 and absolutely reject all those whose possession is not 
 necessary. 
 
 REFLECTION. 
 
 Although this passage be corrupted in the Greek, 
 and that all the translators have found it intricate, 
 yet the sense I giAe it seems probable enough, be- 
 cause Epicurus has said heretofore, that it is in vain 
 a man seeks for safety in things that are not useful to 
 him, and which can never contribute any-wise to his 
 tranquillity ; and that, admitting he were sheltered 
 from fear, envy, and the malice of men, that would 
 not be sufficient to make him happy, if he be not 
 cured of his groundless fright, and have not suppressed 
 his passions. 
 
 Our philosopher means, then, that he who governs 
 himself according to the rules of prudence, may seek 
 to strengthen himself against the power of men, as 
 being necessary for him to do so. Thus we see 
 Pericles, the Athenian general, possessed himself of 
 the government, that by means thereof he might be 
 able to oppose his enemies, Cimon and Thucydides : 
 but, as he had learned the precepts of wisdom under 
 Zeno and Xenocrates, he did not become the tyrant 
 of his country ; neither was he elated on the score of 
 nine victories he had obtained ; and, notwithstanding 
 he had raised himself above the rest, he does not on 
 that account swerve from the rules of justice. 
 
 Epicurus says afterwards, that the same prudence 
 makes us sensible there are some things absolutely 
 unattainable, and therefore we ought to lay aside all 
 thoughts about them. There are a giQat many other*
 
 WITH COMMENTS AND REFLECTIONS. 175 
 
 which the wise man ought to decline, though he 
 might compass the acquisition of them, viz. — ^ho- 
 nours, riches, statues, and the like : but there are 
 some again that he ought entirely to reject, as being 
 superfluous, and busy himself only with those that 
 are unavoidably necessaiy, which are only those that 
 nature exacts for its preserv ation and the happiness of 
 life. 
 
 MAXIM XXVIII. 
 
 Those who have been fortunate enough to live with 
 men of the same temper and opinion, have found a 
 security in their society : this reciprocal disposition 
 of humour and mind has proved a sure pledge of 
 their union, and has made the sum of their felicity. 
 They have had so strict a friendship for one another, 
 that they were ready, without any reluctance, to lay 
 their lives down for each other, if either of them was 
 sentenced to die. 
 
 REFLECTION. 
 
 This passage is altogether faulty in the Greek; 
 nevertheless, I flatter myself I have hit upon Epi- 
 curus' thought in my translation. This philosopher 
 having shown that the diflerence of tempers and 
 constitutions w^ere the cause of the diflference of the 
 minds ; and, since civil society w as composed of men 
 differently inclined, — some being prudent, others 
 rash, — some choleric and furious, others again peace- 
 able and timorous, and some likewise ambitious and 
 
 Bb2
 
 176 THE MORALS OF EPICURUS, 
 
 aspiring*, — and a great many other different charac- 
 ters, which made it impossible to expect so perfect 
 an union amono'st them that nothing; should be able 
 to ruffle or disturb their mutual quiet, — it became 
 necessary that certain laws should be agreed upon, 
 that might restrain and curb the violence and ambi- 
 tion of the haughty and turbulent, and secure, to the 
 mild and gentle, safety and tranquillity. 
 
 He, therefore, extols the happiness of those who, 
 either by nature or by the precepts of wisdom, have 
 found themselves disposed to an harmonious sympa- 
 thy, and who have observed that certain medium 
 which could fix their tempers and unite their minds, 
 by which means they foimd out the secret of living 
 peaceably and agreeably. 
 
 They have always been cautious of offending one 
 another ; have followed the rules prescribed by pru- 
 dence and justice ; they have shewn an indulgence 
 for their faults, have loved one another with sincerity, 
 and have esteemed it an heroic act to die for those of 
 their society. 
 
 THE END OF EPICURUS MORALS.
 
 IN VINDICATION OF 
 
 EPICURUS AND HIS DOCTRINE. 
 
 WRITTEN BY MONS. ST. EVREMONT; 
 
 AND 
 
 TRANSLATED BY MR. JOHNSON. 
 
 Our modern philosophers are very Industrious to 
 lessen the reputation of Epicurus. They explode 
 his doctrine, not only as unworthy of a philosopher, 
 but as dangerous to the state ; imagining that a man 
 must necessarily be vicious as soon as he becomes 
 one of his disciples. They take all occasions to brand 
 his opinions as opposite to good manners, and load 
 his name with infamy and reproach : yet some 
 amongst the Stoics, who were his greatest enemies, 
 have not used him so roughly ; their praises agree 
 not with the modern aspersions ; they have attacked, 
 but not vilified him ; and the writings they have left 
 us still speak, in several passages, the great venera- 
 tion and esteem they had for him. 
 
 Whence, then, proceeds this mighty difference; 
 and why are we no longer of opinion with the philo- 
 sophers of antiquity] The reason is plain,— we do 
 not act like them : we make no enquiry, we do not 
 sift matters, we only adhere to M'hat is told us, with- 
 out instructino' ourselves in the true nature of 
 things : we esteem those best which have the greatest
 
 178 MONSIEUR ST. EVREMONt's 
 
 number of approvers, and do not follow reason, but 
 only the resemblance of it. We hug our errors, be- 
 cause they are justified by those of other men ; we 
 believe, rather than judge, and are so unjust that we 
 defend, against reason, the spurious opinions which 
 have been handed down to us. Through this infir- 
 mity hath Epicurus fallen under a general misrepre- 
 sentation ; and ignorant men, who know not his 
 worth, have endeavoured to strike him out of the list 
 of philosophers : they have condemned him unknown, 
 and banished him unheard; they never enquired into 
 the merits of his cause, and seem to be afraid, lest, 
 in making his defence, they should become converts 
 to the superior excellence of his divine precepts. 
 
 The first and only reasonable pretence that men 
 had to slio'ht his doctrine was the lives of some 
 vicious wretches, who, abusing the name of this great 
 man, gave their vices the inscription of his virtue ; 
 and thus, fathering their defects upon the principles 
 of his philosophy, lessened the reputation of his sect. 
 Multitudes flocked to places where they understood 
 that pleasure was commended ; but the misfortune 
 was, they neither apprehended that pleasure, nor 
 understood the praises bestowed upon it : they re- 
 mained satisfied with the name in general, not 
 doubting, under the authority of so great a man, to 
 screen their debaucheries and palliate the lewdness 
 of their lives ; so that, instead of profiting in his 
 school, and correcting their loose inclinations by the 
 good instructions and virtuous example of that phi-» 
 losopher, they even lost that which could only be left 
 them — the shame of tripping, and proceeded so far
 
 VINDICATION OF EPICURUS. 179 
 
 as to extol actions at which they blushed before, and 
 to glory in those vices which they had formerly con- 
 cealed. In short, following the bent of their own 
 vicious appetites, they publicly, and without shame, 
 indulged themselves in the pleasure they brought 
 along with them, and not in *hat which their great 
 master inculcated upon them. However, the world 
 — judging by appearances, and seeing persons, who 
 gtyled themselves philosophers, so extremely dissolute 
 as to make a pubhc profession of their failings, and 
 cite Epicurus in countenancing their impurity, la- 
 ziness, gluttony, and drunkenness, — made no diffi- 
 culty to pronounce this philosopher's doctrine most 
 pernicious and scandalous, and to compare his dis- 
 ciples to the vilest animal in nature. Epicuri de 
 grege porcum, was a sarcastic expression of a poet, 
 reflecting upon the followers of Epicurus, and repre- 
 senting them as persons wallowing like swine in all 
 manner of sensuality, and more than beastly plea- 
 sures. The zeal of our philosopher's adversaries 
 hath so confounded his opinion with the errors of his 
 disciples, that it is higlily criminal, with the gene- 
 rality of mankind, to attempt his vindication ; though 
 the greatest of his enemies fix no greater crime upon 
 him than what he hath in common w ith the rest of 
 the philosophers. Nay, even Christianity itself suf- 
 fers under the like misfortune, and is disgraced by 
 the scandalous lives of base pretending hypocritical 
 professors of its doctrines. 
 
 Thus unreasonably do ignorant pretenders treat 
 Epicurus, and set his morals in a very bad light ; 
 but the wiser and more judicious gort, who (sepa-
 
 18(1 IVrOXSIEUR ST. EVREMONT^S 
 
 riating themselves from that multitude, which hith 
 ever been an enemy to wise men, and which, upon a 
 groundless opinion, condemned the divine Socrates, 
 though approved of by the gods,) have taken a nearer 
 and more perfect view of our philosopher's life and 
 doctrine, not giving credit to common fame, or tak- 
 ing things upon trust, but, searching to the bottom, 
 have, upon the result of their enquiry, given large 
 and honourable testimonies of his exalted virtue and 
 sublime precepts. They liaAe fully proved his plea- 
 sure to be as severe as the Stoic's virtue, — that, 
 though his title be soft and delicate, his precepts are 
 difficult, — and that, to be debauched like Epicurus, a 
 man must be as sober as Zeno. 
 
 And certainly it is very ridiculous and inconsistent 
 to suppose that our philosopher should propagate 
 lewdness, or instruct his disciples in the practice of 
 vice, if we consider that his friends and chief fol- 
 lowers were rulers in the Grecian cities ; that his 
 reverence for the gods, love to his country, piety to 
 his parents, liberality to his countrymen, and gentle- 
 ness to his slaves, were so remarkably eminent, that 
 his country, to reward such exemplary virtue, erected 
 statues to his honour. His modesty kept him from 
 engaging in affairs of state ; and his temperance was 
 so great, that his ordinary diet was nothing but bread 
 and water. 
 
 However, apprehending that the title he bestowed 
 upon his doctrine might be made use of to counte- 
 nance the sensual inclinations of some, and that 
 others might thereby be induced to calumniate his 
 pleasure, — as if he had foreseen the unjust censure 
 1
 
 VINDICATION OF EPICURUS. 181 
 
 of succeeding ages, and the vicious lives of his pre- 
 tended followers, — this great man hath anticipated 
 the objections of the world with a .sufficient justifica- 
 tion of his pleasure, and fully explained the same to 
 be sober and severe. He banished from his garden, 
 where he philosophised with his friends, all such as 
 abused the name of pleasure, and considered vice as 
 the sovereign good of man and tranquillity of life. 
 For proof whereof, I will produce you one of his 
 letters written to Menetaeus, in which he speaks thus : 
 
 " Notwithstanding that we assert pleasure to be 
 the end of man, we do not mean vile and infamous 
 pleasure, — such as proceeds from taste and gluttony. 
 This is not an unlikely opinion of persons that are 
 ignorant of, or oppose, our precepts ; they wrest them 
 to an ill sense, and we separate ourselves from their 
 company." 
 
 Thus, you see how careful he was to defend him- 
 self against ignorance and misconstruction, which he 
 foresaw were the only two things capable to prejudice 
 the world against him. His life, though innocent, 
 sober, and discreet, hath not, however, been free 
 from invectives and detraction, which have been suf- 
 ficiently answered and refuted by learned and judi- 
 cious writers, who have taken the pains to write our 
 philosopher's life ; in which they have not failed, 
 with clearness of judgment and sound reason, to 
 vindicate his reputation against the trifling cavils of 
 weak and partial enemies. But, as it is not my 
 design to entertain you with a detail of his actions, 
 but to defend his pleasure, I shall refer you to 
 Diogenes Laertius, Gassendus, and others, for the 
 
 c c
 
 182 MONSIEUR ST. EVREMONt's 
 
 relation of his life ; and philosophise with you awhile 
 upon the nature of that which hath so many enemies, 
 and enquire whether it be such as will exclude those 
 who defend and follow it out of the rank of good and 
 wise men. 
 
 Epicurus placeth the felicity of man in pleasure, 
 and esteemeth that life happiest which is attended 
 with an indolence of body and tranquillity of mind. 
 And wherein can a wise man better place his happi- 
 ness than in a serene and undisturbed mind ? All 
 the motions of our soul centre in pleasure, and those 
 who condemn it must consequently condemn Naturej 
 and accuse her of faults in all her works ; for this 
 wise mother hath mingled delight with all our ac- 
 tions, and, by an admirable piece of wisdom, hath 
 so ordered it, that, as those things which are most 
 necessary are the meanest, so they are the most 
 pleasing : and certainly, had she not found out this 
 innocent invention, the world had perished long ago, 
 and man, who is the noblest part thereof, neglecting his 
 own preservation, had left it a prey to wild beasts^ 
 Wlio would trouble himself with eating, did not 
 pleasure as well as necessity invite him to it ? AVIio 
 would endure that sleep should benumb his senses, 
 take from him the use of reason, and make him ex- 
 change life with the image of death, — flid not the 
 sweetness of her poppies allure him, and make the 
 remedy as charming as it is shameful ? So necessary 
 is pleasure to us, that the indigence of our nature 
 contributes to it. 
 
 Pleasure is so interwoven in our nature, that slje 
 stands not in need of an advocate ; and so prevalent
 
 riNDiCATION OF EPICURUS. 183 
 
 are the charms of her beauty, that, wlien she appears, 
 all opposition falls before her ; and, when absent, she 
 is the object of our desires. The Stoics vainly en- 
 deavour to enslave the body to the tyranny of the 
 soul ; the Peripatetics wrangle much about what 
 they do not understand, and are great lovers of 
 wealth ; the Academics are proud, conceited, and 
 vain-glorious pretenders to universal knowledge and 
 wdsdom : but it is Epicurus alone that hath found out 
 that sovereign good which is the perfection of a 
 happy life, and those only that follow his steps are 
 rich, powerful, and wise, and at once enjoy whatever 
 is desirable. 
 
 The true felicity of life, and the government of 
 our passions, iiom the disorder of which none can 
 absolutely and at all times defend themselves, hatli 
 been the subject upon which philosophers have chielly 
 employed their studies, and is that part of moral 
 philosophy which hath been oftenest enquired into, 
 — yet no one point of the whole circle of philosophy 
 hath been treated of with greater ostentation, and to 
 less satisfaction. Some have taken great pains to 
 describe the passions to us, and to discover their 
 causes and effects, but never instructed us how to 
 regulate and govern them : they were very careful 
 to let us know our disease, but unskilful or negligent 
 in applying remedies for its cure. Others, of less 
 judgment but greater zeal, have confounded them 
 with vices, and made no difference between the 
 motions of the sensitive appetite and the misgovern- 
 ment of the will ; so that, according to them, a man 
 cannot be passionate without being criminal. Their 
 
 cc2
 
 184 MONSIEUR ST. EVREMONt's 
 
 discourses, which should have been instructions to 
 virtue, were only so many invectives against vice ; 
 and, hurried by a mistaken zeal, they made the dis- 
 temper greater than it was, and the cure less practi- 
 cable. Others, again, vainly puffed up with pride, 
 have pretended to stifle passion, and to raise men to 
 the condition of angels : they have not feared to 
 debase their gods, that they might exalt their wise 
 man, and have oftentimes made him happier than 
 their Jupiter : they have given him the upper-hand 
 of fortune and destiny, and made his happiness to 
 depend entirely upon his own free-will. They re- 
 present pain and pleasure as imaginary distractions ; 
 that passions are the sickness of the soul ; and that a 
 man must renounce his liberty, if he obey such inso- 
 lent masters. Thus, they have framed a wise man 
 only in idea ; and, whilst they have endeavoured to 
 make him equal or superior to the gods, they have 
 made him less than man. 
 
 Thus did these vain pretenders to wisdom busy 
 themselves in a blind and eager pursuit after happi- 
 ness ; but the more haste they made in a wrong way, 
 the more labour and pains they took to be further 
 from their journey's end : and, though wisdom and 
 happiness were the sole aim and drift of every one of 
 them, yet they all took a different vsay to attain the 
 desired end ; and notwithstanding, amongst such 
 different opinions, one only could be in the right, 
 each of them pretended to be that only one which 
 could give access to virtue, and put its followers into 
 the right way, passing by the rest as leading them 
 astray and from the mark. In this, however, they
 
 VINDICATION OF EPICURUS. 185 
 
 unanlmonsly aorecd, — to explode the doctrhie of 
 Epicurus, and to represent his pleasure as vokiptu- 
 ousness, his philosophy as vanity, and his precepts 
 such as plunged men into all manner of dissolute- 
 ness : but, upon a due enquiry into the matter, we 
 shall evidently find that these heavy censures of Epi- 
 curus proceeded more from pride and ignorance than 
 from knowledge and sound judgment. 
 
 The Stoics and all other philosophers agree with 
 Epicurus in this, — that the true felicity of life is to 
 be free from perturbations, to understand our duty 
 towards God and man, to enjoy the present without 
 any anxious dependance upon the future, not to 
 amuse ourselves either with hopes or fears, to curb 
 and restrain our unruly appetites, to rest satisfied 
 with what we have, which is abundantly sufficient — 
 for he that is content wants nothing. He that can 
 look death in the face and bid it welcome ; he that 
 can open his door to poverty, and bridle his appe- 
 tites, — he is the man, they all agree, whom Provi- 
 dence hath established in the possession of consum- 
 mate happiness. The difference between them is 
 this : — the Stoics and the other philosophers deny the 
 passions, and rank them among things which are not 
 in rcrum Natura ; Epicurus, on the other hand, 
 asserts them to be necessary to the soul, that they 
 are seeds of virtue, and that joy must perfect that 
 felicity which desire hath begun. Their happiness 
 is purely speculative ; but that of Epicurus is prac- 
 tical. 
 
 But as there is no beauty without some moles, no 
 crystal without some specks, — neither is Epicurus 
 4
 
 186 MONSIEUR ST. EVREMONt's 
 
 without Ills imperfections, which (tiiough, as a 
 Christian, it is not my design to justify,) are, how- 
 ever, easily pardonable if we consider the dark time 
 he hved in, when there was scarce any rehgion but 
 idohitrv, more o'ods* than nations, and no other hght 
 by \^ hich to steer his course than the lamp of nature. 
 He seems rather to be honoured for comina: so near 
 to the knowledge of the true God, than condemned 
 for coming no nearer, — rather to be admired for 
 having such agreeable conceptions of some of the 
 divine attributes, than reproached for not compre- 
 hending them all -f^ especially if we compare his 
 notions relating to the gods with those of the elder 
 Grecian philosophers and poets, as well as the com- 
 mon and received opinions of those days. 
 
 Who can blame our philosopher, mIio, swayed by 
 the highest reason, traced Nature in her primitive 
 innocence, and not only taught but practised virtue 
 with so much excellence, as few in these days, (to 
 our shame be it spoken.) though we enjoy the sun- 
 shine of the Gospel, can equal ? The bounds which 
 Nature have prescribed are those of justice and 
 equity. Avarice came not from Nature ; she hath 
 concealed gold in the lowest bowels of the earth, 
 and Ave haAe torn it from thence. Nature was not 
 the cause of ambition, which torments us : she brought 
 us into the world, and with equality sends us out of 
 it; we only differ from one another inasmuch as we 
 corrupt her. We all equally enjoy liberty and the 
 
 * Imposed upon the people by priestcraft. 
 
 t A tiling ullcriy impossible by any human being,
 
 VINDICATION 0¥ EPICURUS. 187 
 
 sun : servitude was introduced by violence, and the 
 first kings were tyrants. Is it Nature, think you, 
 which incites to luxury ? The poets themselves, who 
 have foisted defects into the very heavens, to screen 
 their own folHes with celestial examples, — make 
 Jupiter wicked, that they might be so themselves, — 
 dared not own such a thought. In their description 
 of the golden age, they tell you that acorns were then 
 men's food, that rivers quenched their thirst, that 
 they dwelt in caves, that they had no clothes to de- 
 fend them against the injuries of the v.eather, and 
 that they followed nature in all their actions. I 
 readily grant that there never was such a constitu- 
 tion of human affairs, and that mankind were never 
 reduced to such a level widi brutes. The poets have, 
 indeed, carried the fiction too far, but their design 
 was to instruct us that excess proceedeth not from 
 Nature ; she doth not prompt or encourage us to it ; 
 experience plainly teacheth that the necessities of 
 nature may be plentifully satisfied with slender and 
 easily-provided fare. Hear how the incomparable 
 Mr. Cowley, our English Pindar, expresses himself 
 on the occasion. 
 
 When Epicurus to (he woiid liad ta.igiit, 
 
 That pleasure was the cliiefest gdod, 
 (And was, perhaps, i'th' right, if rigiitlv understood,) 
 
 His life he to his doctrine brought. 
 And in a garden's shade that sovereign pleasure sought. 
 
 Whoever a true Epicure uoidd be, 
 
 May tiierc find clicap aud virtuous luxury. 
 
 Vitellius' table, which did hold 
 
 As many creatures as the ark of ohl, —
 
 188 MONSIEUR ST. EVREMONT's 
 
 That fiscal table, to wliiclj, ev'ry day. 
 All countries did a constant tribute pay. 
 
 Could nothing more delicious attord 
 Than Nature's Uberalitv, 
 Ilelp'd with a little art and industry. 
 
 Allows the meanest gard'ner's board. 
 The wanton taste no fish or fowl can choose. 
 From which the grape or melon she would lose. 
 Though all th' inhabitants of sea and air 
 Be listed in the glutton's bill of fare: 
 Yet still the fruits of earth we see 
 Plac'd the third story high in all her luxury. 
 
 Cowley's " Gnrdi»," to J. Evelyn, esq. 
 
 Ill short, it is we tliat abuse the gifts of Heaven, 
 and the advantages it confers upon us, since those 
 thiuffs withont which nature cannot subsist are verv 
 compendious, and may be obtained Avith great ease, 
 without the violation of justice, hberahty, or tran- 
 quilhty. How, then, doth Nature require tliat a 
 man slwuld abstain from those things which are sub- 
 mitted to him, and over which she hath made him 
 lord ? No ; we ought rather to use them, provided 
 we use them according to nature. We must so use 
 things as that we may be without them ; we must be 
 their masters, and not their slaves ; we must not be 
 intpatient for them, nor dejected at their loss ; enjoy 
 them peaceably as occasion offers, and not pursue 
 them with disquiet and fatigue. 
 
 There is no condition of life but may become a 
 wise man. A philosopher is not to be blamed for 
 dwelling in a palace, but in not having the power to 
 be contented with a cottage : I shall not be scanda- 
 lised at seeing him in his robes, if he have not the 
 ambition of a king. Let Aristippus possess the
 
 VINDICATION OF EPICURUS. 189 
 
 riclies of Crcesus ; what matter' — he will throw 
 them away when they incommode him. Let Plato 
 be at the table of the tyrant Dionysius ; yet, in the 
 midst of that abundance of delicacies, he will feed only 
 on olives. The possession of goods is not to be con- 
 demned, but our slavery and subjection to them : it 
 is not poverty that will make us wise ; it may take 
 from us, indeed, the opportunity of committing some 
 faults ; but there are others which it cannot remedy. 
 The cynic's rags Contribute not the least to tran- 
 quillity or moderation : ambition dwelt with Diogenes 
 in his tub, and there it was he had the insolence to 
 insult Alexander, the haughtiest of all mankind. 
 
 Undoubtedly, there is more difficulty to follow 
 Nature in affluence than in necessity : the spurs 
 which our delights make use of to try our modera- 
 tion are much more keen than those which adversity 
 employs for that purpose ; but the greater the diffi- 
 culty, the more glory in surmounting it, and the loss 
 of false joys secures to us a much better possession, 
 of real ones. We are not sensible of a felicity which 
 costs us nothing, and for which we are indebted to 
 chance ; it must be given us by wisdom and prudence, 
 if we would have a true relish of it, and pain must 
 sometimes usher us to pleasure. Suppose a man 
 -should enter the lists at the Olympic games, with a 
 design to try his strength and skill : if no-body en- 
 countered him, he might possibly be crowned; but, 
 nevertheless, that would not render him victorious. 
 Skilful pilots gain their reputation from storms and 
 tempests. If Penelope's chastity had not been tried, 
 the envious world would have said, she only wanted 
 
 Dd
 
 190 MONSIEUR ST. EVREMONt's 
 
 corrupters. Wlierefore, let us not fly the world, nor 
 fly the court ; let us not sculk in deserts, from whence 
 philosopliy brought primitive mankind ; let us possess 
 riches, and refuse not the administration of public of- 
 fices : if we arc wise, ^ve may enjoy these things without 
 any danger to our ease and tranquillity ; we may sail 
 happily amidst these rocks, and view all with an un- 
 concerned eye. If we be stript of them by our not 
 looking back, we may testify our contempt, and that 
 we were not wedded to them. It is shameful for a 
 wise man to be weaker than those desires, which, as 
 they are unnatural, so are they vain and unnecessary 
 only in opinion. This is Epicurus' pleasure, — this is 
 what he calls living according to nature, — this is his 
 doctrine, and these are his sentiments. 
 
 Consider, then, whether this opinion desert es to be 
 ill treated, and see whether we have reason to de- 
 spise it ; whether this pleasure panders for debauchery 
 and excess, and whether any thing can be more 
 sober or chaste. If you ask Epicurus what it is to 
 live pleasantly, he will answer you, that it consists 
 not in a fondness for worldly concerns, but in resist-, 
 ing corrupt aifections and inclinations, contemning 
 honour, getting the mastery of fortune, — and, in a 
 word, possessing an absolute peace and tranquillity of 
 mind. To this point are all his precepts levelled, — 
 in this you meet with pleasure, — and in this, indeed, 
 we ouo'ht to seek it, not m the satisfaction of the 
 senses, nor in giving a loose to our appetites. This 
 pleasure is too pure to depend upon the body, it de- 
 pends on the intellectual part ; reason is its mistress, 
 reason is its rule ; the senses are only its ministers.
 
 VINDICATION OF EPICURUS. 191 
 
 Besides, whatever delights we may hope for by in- 
 dulging the palate in the pleasures of the sight, in 
 music or perfumes, if we do not receive them with a 
 serene mind we are deceived, — we fall under the 
 delusion of a false joy, and take the shadow of plea-, 
 sure for the real substance. We will burn, if you 
 please, the most costly perfumes ; we will closet our- 
 selves up with Venus ; Ave will pamper ourselves with 
 nectar and ambrosia, and enjoy the utmost pleasure 
 the f)oets have imagined ; yet all will prove bitter if 
 our minds be disquieted, and, in spite of these 
 delights, sorrow will appear manifestly upon our 
 brows. 
 
 I will give you one instance to prove this assertion, 
 and demonstrate to you how incapable that man is of 
 pleasure, whose mind is discomposed. You have 
 read, no doubt, of that feast which Tigellinus made 
 for Nero, and may remember that great debauch, the 
 noise of which hath lasted to our age. It seems to 
 have been the utmost effort of prodigality, art, and 
 luxury, which succeeding ages have not been able to 
 rival, much less exceed. Agrippa's pond was the 
 place pitched upon for this extravagant repast ; it 
 was made upon a stately bark, which, being drawn 
 by a great many others, seemed insensibly to move. 
 All the barges were adorned with gold, and inlaid 
 with ivory ; the rowers were so many lovely youths, 
 habited like cupids. The taste knew no fowl which 
 it was not furnished with at that entertainment ; the 
 ocean provided it with fish, and the provinces of the 
 empire with diversity of flesh : in short, everj' thing 
 was there in plenty and perfection. I omit thosQ 
 
 Dd 2
 
 1^ l^ONSIEUR ST. EVREMONt's 
 
 infamous houses erected on the banks, which were 
 stocked with women of the best qiiaUty, and naked 
 courtezans. The night itself contributed to the plea- 
 sure of his debauch ; its shades were dissipated by 
 an infinity of lights, and its silence agreeably dis- 
 turbed by the harmonious concert of several kinds of 
 music. Would you know what delight Nero took in 
 all these things, and whether he departed satisfied 
 from diis entertainment ? Consider only that he car- 
 ried with him thither the memory of his crimes, and 
 the sting of a bad conscience, and you will readily 
 conclude that he had no real satisfaction throughout 
 the whole entertainment ; that he there felt the peni^ 
 tentlal whip ; and that, though he appeared outwardly 
 gay and brisk, yet he was inwardly tormented with 
 horror and despair. If he had any joy, it was that 
 of the Menades ; he was obliged to his dnuikenness 
 for that little pleasure he enjoyed, and his happiness 
 increased with the diminution of his reason. I con-, 
 elude his whole retinue were under the same circum- 
 stances ; for, I conceive, neither Seneca, nor Thraseus 
 Paetus, nor Bareus Soranus, were of the number of 
 the guests. They lived according to nature, amidst 
 the corruption of a n^ost profligate and degenerate 
 age, and were consequently improper company for 
 such a crew of debauchees. Doubtless, such only 
 were present as endeared themselves to his conver- 
 sation by a congruity of manners, such as spiured 
 him on in his crimes, and pimped to his lusts. Before 
 such he had no opportunity to blush, where an eager 
 desire to excel each other in vice had stifled all 
 laianner of shame. Certainly, such vile wretches
 
 VINDICATION OF EPICURUS. 19-3 
 
 Mere far from being happy : there was no finding a 
 sound man in tlie whole company ; pleasure could get 
 no admittance into those breasts which lewdness liad 
 so entirely possessed. They were entirely governed 
 by those passions which destroy the tranquillity of 
 the mind, and, by consequence, were not in a condi- 
 tion to relish that pleasure we so much approve. Had 
 our philosopher been present at this debauch, he 
 would have declared the truth before Nero, and in the 
 face of the \A'hole world ; he \^'ould not have feared 
 death, which he held indifferent, but would have 
 boldly expressed his mind after the following manner: 
 "Unhappy prince! how wretchedly are you de- 
 ceived in believing pleasure is to be found in these 
 excesses ! — it is as far distant from them as you are 
 from life's truest happiness. You drag your miseiy 
 along with you in all places, wheresoever you goj 
 and, do what you will, you cannot hide yourself one 
 moment from your conscience. Cover your table 
 with meats yet more delicious than those it now 
 abounds with ; add the richest wines of Greece and 
 Italy, or the whole world; nay, heap up all that 
 luxury and lust can think of and invent, — yet you 
 will fmd nothing in all these things to afford you sa- 
 tisfaction ; for, though your body be satiated, your 
 mind will still be in search after pleasure. These are 
 not the things which render life happy : it is Pru- 
 dence alone which directs you to the sovereign good ; 
 it is she only that will teach you to regulate your 
 desires according to nature ; and in this rule it is 
 that you will meet with what you cannot fmd in your 
 disorders : if any thing be wanting, turn your eyes
 
 194 MONSIEUR ST. EVREMONT^S 
 
 towards that common mother, and she will give you 
 easily wherewith to be content. Are you thirsty"? — 
 she hath every-where placed rivers and springs where 
 you may quench your thirst : hungry 1 — places where 
 you will find fruits to live on. If you are not satisfied 
 with these things, you will never be satisfied with all 
 your excesses. Consult your hunger and your thirst, 
 they will find delights for you in the simplicity of 
 nature, and bread and water will serve you instead 
 of the best dish upon earth you can call to mind, 
 when you are in necessity : but now you are not^ so 
 you give no time to your stomach to digest your meat ; 
 your intemperance daily contracts crudities, and ac- 
 celerates the hour of that death which terrifies you 
 with such dismal apprehensions. Thus, you make 
 feasts which aiford you no pleasure, because you 
 strain nature, forcing it to obey your desires. But 
 know this^ your desires interfere with your nature^ 
 and the errors of your mind darken the light of your 
 reason ; wherefore, flatter not yourself with tasting 
 pleasure, as you fondly imagine. There is nothing- 
 bounded but in nature ; whatever is repugnant to 
 nature is infinite, and consequently above us. Am- 
 bitious subjects aspire to crowns ; if they became 
 kings, they would aim at being sole monarchs of the 
 earth ; if monarchs, they would wish for incense and 
 sacrifices : and the fable of the giants informs us, 
 that the earth hath dared to contend with heaven for 
 its dominion. It is the same with other evil appe- 
 tites ; none can be happy but he that knows how to 
 govern them, and, as it belongs only to a wise mai\ 
 to undertake that province, so it only belongs to him
 
 VINDICATION OP EPICURUS. 195 
 
 to §way the universe. He only can extract pleasure 
 out of all these things ; he alone useth delights so- 
 berly, and possesseth them in their true perfection. 
 For your part, you dishonour the race of Augustus, 
 and are the infamy of mankind, over whom the anger 
 of the gods hath given you the command: but, do 
 what you please, you will always be miserable ; your 
 grief will harrass you at all times, and in all places ; 
 you will never steal one moment from your consci- 
 ence ; and, in the midst of all your good cheer, you 
 will drink no wine but what shall represent to you the 
 blood of those innocents which your cruelty hath shed 
 on one base pretence or other." 
 
 Thus would Epicurus have delivered himself; thus 
 would he have justified his philosophy, and thus re- 
 proved that emperor's most abominable vice and 
 folly. But, as it is impossible that the mind should 
 truly relish pleasure, if the body, her companion, la- 
 bour under any affliction, Epicurus, or rather truth 
 itself, teaches that privation of corporeal pain is a 
 very necessary composition in that supreme good or 
 felicity of life which pleasure doth produce; and, in 
 truth, there is so close an alliance between the body 
 and the mind, that their pleasures and their suiferings 
 are inseparable. The mind cannot be entirely happy 
 whilst pain afflicts the body ; neither can the body 
 retain its vioor, if the mind be afflicted and disturbed. 
 Hence, it evidently appears that the sum of all plea- 
 sure consists only in the removal of pain, or in that 
 state which follows upon that removal ; for, wherever 
 pleasure is, there can be nothing of anxiety or pain ; 
 and, consequently, it must be a great pleasure not io
 
 196 MONSIEUR ST. EVREMOXt's 
 
 be in pain. Let the Stoics boast as much as they 
 })lease of the insensibihty of tiieir sect, and that 
 rigorous virtue which mocks pain, one lit of sickness 
 will fully convince them that their bodies do not 
 centre with their opinion, and that their discourses, 
 thouiih most eloquent and sublime, are neither agree- 
 able to truth nor human nature. 
 
 It will not be amiss to illustrate this assertion with 
 a suitable example ; and the same shall not be taken 
 from the crowd of pretending philosophers. I will 
 make use of a name the Stoics themselves shall not 
 scruple to admit, and pitch upon a person whose 
 virtues they never doubted of: Hercules shall bear 
 w itness to the truth of what I assert ; that Hercules 
 whose labours have gained him a seat amongst the 
 ffods, and rendered him so alorious to men that the 
 poets haAc always made choice of him as a perfect 
 instance of the force and power of wisdom. We 
 will take a view of this hero dying, and consider him 
 in the last actions of his life. This invincible mans 
 exit, we expect, should be like his entrance, illustri- 
 ous in performing something worthy of his character ; 
 that he should say nothing which would sully his 
 noble actions, or seem unworthy of his former virtue. 
 But, alas ! we are deceived : the strength of his pain 
 overcomes his courage ; his constancy yields to the 
 heat of that poison which devours him ; he does not 
 only complain, — he weeps, he cries, he howls ; and it 
 is with the utmost effects of rage and despair that he 
 cjuits this life to take his place among the gods. Let 
 not the Stoics then talk any longer of their insensi- 
 bility, nor pretend that a wise man may be happy Id 
 
 3
 
 VIXDICATION OF EPICURUS. 197 
 
 the midst of tortures ; neither let them despise pain, 
 to which, after so many victories, Hercules himself 
 was forced to yield. 
 
 But, if the Stoics, in favour of this their darling- 
 hero, reject the authority of poets and the consent of 
 theatres, as representing Hercules contrary to the 
 truth, — Possidonius, master to Cicero, and by him 
 styled the greatest of the Stoics, will serve as an il- 
 lustrious example to prove the truth of my assertion. 
 Here we shall see a main pillar of the (r&a) porch 
 staggered, and, by consequence, the whole fabric 
 ready to fall. Pompey the Great, understanding that 
 this famous philosopher lay grievously tormented with 
 the gout, made him a visit, to see whether so great 
 a master was able to bear that pain with the same 
 ease, when afflicted, as he contemned and despised, 
 by his florid harangues, when in health. The philo- 
 sopher was surprised at the presence of so noble and 
 unexpected a guest ; and, judging that the true cause 
 of his coming was something more than a friendly 
 visit, he bore the violence of his pain with the ut- 
 most uneasiness ; and, though the extreme agony 
 thereof made the SAveat trickle from him in abundance, 
 yet, obstinately resolving not to contradict his former 
 doctrine, either by words or groans, before so great 
 a witness, in the midst of his pain he cries out, " I 
 never will own you to be an evil :" by which expres- 
 sion he only confirmed his noble guest in his former 
 opinion, — that the doctrine of the Stoics consisted 
 more in haughty and vain-glorious expressions, than 
 a right conformity to truth and reason. Cicero 
 comes in as a full proof of this wise man's weakness 
 
 EC
 
 I9d MONSIEUR ST. EVREMONt's 
 
 and inconsistency : '' I have seen," says he, " Possido-' 
 iiius, the greatest of the Stoics, have as little power 
 to undergo the pains of the gout as my host Nico- 
 machus ;" a person whom Tully accounted an ordi- 
 nary sort of fellow. 
 
 As I have given an instance of Hercules in his last 
 moments, that I may fully dispatch this point, I will 
 examine that grand question of the Stoics. What 
 tliink you of Hercules and Theseus, w hose lives were 
 one continued series of glorious labours, which if 
 they had not undertaken, the earth had been over- 
 nm with monsters and injustice? By which ques- 
 tion, it is undeniably evident that the Stoics ar© 
 nothing more than vain ignorant pretenders and 
 blind guides, who lead their admirers on in a wild- 
 goose chace, from which they have heaped nothing 
 but confusion, and made themselves ridiculous to all 
 ages : for, had they understood the matter aright, or 
 had they not been blinded with pride and arrogance, 
 they would readily have perceived that the actions of 
 these brave men were so many shining proofs of the 
 truth and excellency of the Epicurean doctrine ; for 
 as much as all their great and glorious labours w ere 
 undertaken and performed by them in order to obtain 
 that pleasure w hich our philosopher, with so much 
 reason, affirms to be the sovereign good and true 
 felicity of life. Nature hath dispersed pleasure 
 through all her actions ; she usetli it as a motive and 
 assistance to us, in doing every thing that is good 
 and commendable ; and its recompence vA'hen done, 
 according to that received and approved axiom — 
 Yiitue is its own rew ard. Man's life is full of misery.
 
 Vindication of epicurus. 199. 
 
 mid, were not our passions to be sweetened with 
 pleasure, they would end in grief or despair ; we 
 should be pressed to death under the load of our mis- 
 fortunes ; and, losing all hope of conquering our 
 enemies, we should likewise lose the desire of resist- 
 ing them. To heighten our courage, therefore, this 
 wise mother solicits us by pleasure, and, proposing 
 that to us as a full recompense of all our labours, en- 
 courageth us to despise difficulties and banish fear ; 
 for, though the mind of man be naturally ambitious, 
 yet would she not attempt to obtain virtue and sub- 
 due vice, were there not as much pleasure as glory 
 in the action ; or, to speak more properly, were there 
 not an inward, excellent, and inexpressible pleasure 
 attending every such glorious attempt. 
 
 The pleasure which our philosopher recommends 
 is the enjoyment of a real pleasing good, — such asr 
 fills the soul with content, swallows up desire in 
 fruition, and banisheth sorrow and fear ; so that he 
 excludes from thence all those false delights which 
 spring from indulgence, or end in sorrow ; for, as 
 they are desired with so much anxiety as far exceeds 
 the pleasure they promise, they are such enemies, 
 likewise to our peace, that it is impossible to taste of 
 them without disordering our nature : they wound at 
 once both our soul and body, — they weaken the one, 
 and coiTupt the other ; they are worse remedies than 
 the evils they would cure ; they are constantly at- 
 tended with repentance, sorrow, and shame, and 
 dare not appear to public view, — for, being conscious 
 that they lessen our reputation, they seek the shade, 
 and court solitude and silence \ they would blush,. 
 
 Ee2
 
 200 JMONSIEUR ST. EVREMONt's 
 
 were they forced to discover themselves, and confu- 
 sion would so overwhelm them that all their joy 
 would be turned into bitterness and mourning. The 
 solid pleasures are those of the mind ; and man 
 cannot enjoy peace and tranquillity, unless his no- 
 blest part be composed and happy. The know- 
 ledge of truth and practice of virtue ought to be 
 his chief delight ; he must remember that the body 
 is the soul's slave, and that, in choice of plea- 
 sures, it is reasonable that the sovereign have the 
 preference. Those which the soul relisheth are the 
 truest ; and, if any man be of another opinion, we 
 may conclude him void of reason, sense, and under- 
 standing. The pleasures of the senses are limited, 
 whereas those of the soul have no bounds ; the plea- 
 sures of the body are strangers, those of the soul are 
 natural ; the former may be taken from us without 
 great difficulty, but death itself cannot deprive us of 
 the latter, which, though it rob us of our riches, 
 cannot rob us of our virtues. The pleasures of the 
 body are transitory and dangerous ; but the tranquil- 
 lity of the mind produceth true and solid content, and 
 is a permanent and essential good. 
 
 Now, though we do esteem pleasure as a real 
 good, and pain a real evil, yet we do not affirm that 
 we ought always to pursue the one and avoid the 
 other ; for it may be convenient for us, at times, to 
 suffer pain, that we may afterwards enjoy more 
 abundant and satisfactory pleasure ; and to abstain 
 from some pleasures, lest they draw upon us more 
 grievous pain, — for some things there are, which, 
 though they yield some pleasure, yet are they of such
 
 VINDICATION OF EPICURUS. 201 
 
 a nature as to occasion pains much greater than 
 themselves. It was this maxim that made Reg-ulus 
 put himseh' again into the hands of his enraged ene- 
 mies, where the cruelties of his tormentors were less 
 painful to him than his remorse would have been, had 
 he broke his faith and promise. It was this maxim 
 that made Fabricius despise the offered treasures of 
 the King of Epirus, whereby he lost also those evil 
 desires which attend the possession of riches, and 
 preserved to himself that repose of mind which is 
 the chief of pleasures and supreme good. To this 
 maxim may be referred all those great deeds and 
 commendable actions done by the heroes of former 
 ages. You will find that, if they at any time era- 
 braced pain, it was to avoid a much greater; or, if 
 they refused some pleasures, it was, by such absti- 
 nence, to obtain others much more solid and satis- 
 factory : for to what other motive can we ascribe 
 those their illustrious actions. They would not have 
 turned their backs upon riches, embraced poverty, 
 or hunted after enemies, difficulties, and pain, had 
 they not found therein that pleasure which is the 
 only solid good and perfection of a happy life. 
 Hercules and Theseus had never done such great 
 things for mankind, had they not taken pleasure in 
 doing good, though it were attended with pain and 
 labour. Regulus had never returned to Carthage, 
 had he not rightly considered that breach of faith 
 would have tormented his mind with more exquisite 
 and durable pains than any his body could endure. 
 Neither had Fabricius rejected the royal offer of 
 Pvrrhus, had uot wisdom convinced liim that there
 
 202 MONSIEUR ST. EVREMONt's 
 
 Vvas more pleasure in an honest undefiled poverty, 
 than was consistent with such riches as were to be 
 gained by sacrificing his honour to the enemy of hi& 
 country. 
 
 These great men, it is true, were not, as we can 
 find, the professed disciples of Epicurus ; but it is 
 sufficient that whatsoever is praiseworthy in their 
 examples is to be found in the doctrine of our philo- 
 sopher ; and the world may know that it was not 
 virtue alone which was the motive to their glorious 
 actions, — or, at least, what they called virtue ought 
 more rightly to be called pleasure. And yet out of 
 our wise man's school have proceeded spirits truly 
 heroic, who, in the midst of a corrupt age, liave 
 performed actions as higlily honourable as any we 
 have or can mention. Under the reign of Nero, the 
 world admired as much the death of Petronius as 
 that of Seneca, The emperor's tutor gained no glory 
 by dying, which was not equally bestowed upon the 
 arbiter of his pleasures ; and the general opinion was 
 that the Stoic, who had always preached up a con-^* 
 tempt of life, did not quit it more generously, or 
 with a bmver resolution, than Petronius, who had 
 courted all its pleasures. 
 
 I will not omit, therefore, for the honour of Epi- 
 curus, to give you a short account of the life and 
 death of this his great disciple, who, without offence, 
 may be ranked amongst the bravest and most illus- 
 trious of men. Petronius became a courtier undei^ 
 the reign of the Emperor Claudius, where, following 
 the methods of the court, he became insensibly luxu- 
 rious ; though, at the same time, it was observed that 
 
 a
 
 VINDICATION OF EPICURUS. 203 
 
 he took no delight in the brutal pleasures of love, 
 like Mesalina, nor in those of the table and drunk- 
 enness, like Claudius ; only, in a gallant and delicate 
 manner, took a relish of both, rather to gratify his 
 curiosity than indulge his senses. In this manner, 
 he employed a part of the day in sleeping, and 
 -dedicated the night to business and pleasure. His 
 house was the rendezvous of the better sort of people 
 at Rome, with whom he spent his time agreeably, 
 and in the most charming pleasures, — not like a 
 prodigal or debauchee, but like a nice and learned 
 artist in the science of voluptuousness. Having thus 
 passed away his youth in a life of softness and tran- 
 quillity, he resolved to convince those that doubted 
 of his abilities that he was capable of the weightiest 
 affairs in government : for, putting a stop to his 
 pleasures, he accepted the office of proconsul of 
 Bithynia ; went into that province, where he dis- 
 charged all the duties of his place with applause ; 
 and, having finished his employment, upon his return 
 to Rome, was, by the Emperor Nero, in recompense of 
 his services, made consul. This new dignity gave 
 him a ready access to the emperor, who at first ho- 
 noured him with his esteem, and afterwards with 
 his friendship, in acknowledgment of the sumptuous 
 entertainments he sometimes gave that prince, to 
 refresh him when fatigued with the toil of state 
 affairs. The consulate of Petronius being expired, 
 without quitting the court, he re-assumed his first 
 manner of living; and, whether it proceeded from his 
 o\^^l inclination or a desire to please Nero, he soon 
 became a confidant of the emperor, who could find
 
 204 woxsiEUH ST. evremont's 
 
 nothing' agreeable to his humour but what was ap- 
 proved by Petronius. Thus, being possessed of the 
 authority of deciding what might be acceptable, he 
 gained the surname of Arbiter, as master and comp- 
 troller in those affairs. Nero, in the first part of his 
 reign, acted like a prudent wise prince, and applied 
 himself with care to the management of the state:- 
 however, Petronius observed that he was naturally 
 inclined to lust and sensuality, and therefore, like an 
 able politician, being in possession of his prince's 
 mind, he seasoned it with honest delights, and pro- 
 cured him all the innocent charms imaginable, in 
 order to remove the thought of seeking after others, 
 which w^ould have been more irregular and of worse 
 consequence to the commonwealth. Things conti- 
 nued in thi« posture while the emperor kept himself 
 wdthin the bounds of moderation ; and so long Petro- 
 nius acted cheerfully under him, as intendant of his 
 pleasures. 
 
 But the emperor, some time after, complying with 
 his nature, changed his conduct, not only in respect 
 to the public affairs of the empire, but in relation also 
 to his more priAate and domestic affairs, to his 
 sports and recreations. He listened to others rather 
 than to Petronius ; and, insensibly plunging himself 
 into debauchery, he abandoned himself to his pas- 
 sions, and became as monstrous in his pleasures as 
 before he had been nice and delicate. The high 
 advancement of Petronius drew upon him the envy 
 of all those who courted the prince's favour ; and, of 
 all others, Tigellinus, captain of the Petrorian guards, 
 was a most dangerous rival. This man, from an
 
 VINDICATION OF EPICURUS. 205 
 
 obscure birth, had in a short time, by his corrupt 
 manners, gained an absohite sway over the emperor's 
 temper; and, as he knew his blind-side perfectly 
 well, he set himself seriously to bring about the ruin 
 of his competitor, and by such means as very much 
 endangered the ruin of the empire. The curious 
 artful pleasures invented by Petronius were of a 
 more refined nature than the gross debaucheries of 
 Tigellinus ; who, foreseeing that the credit Petronius 
 thereby gained with the emperor would always be 
 an obstacle to his designs, endeavoured, therefore, 
 to possess himself entirely of the prince's heart, and 
 engage him in the foulest brutalities : for Nero no 
 sooner hearkened to the persuasions of Tigellinus, 
 but he signalised his power by the deaths of Sylla 
 and Rubellius Plautus, persons dreaded by them for 
 their eminent virtues, and in great esteem and favour 
 with the people. Thus, proceeding from one degree 
 of infamy to another, he arrived at last to such an 
 excess, that all manner of crimes were perpetrated 
 by him. Our ancient favourite, thus supplanted in 
 his employment by the artifices of a new one, and 
 higlily disgusted at the horrible actions he had seen, 
 gave way to his successor, withdrew from court, in- 
 dulged himself in the pleasures of a retired life, and 
 then wrote that incomparable satyr, in which he so 
 exactly represents the nature and character of Nero, 
 and, under feigned names of lewd and vicious per- 
 sons, exposed the vices of that infamous prince and 
 court. Whilst Petronius thus lived in a retired 
 tranquillity, Tigellinus laboured with all his power 
 to destroy him, and to establish his own fortune upon 
 
 Ff
 
 206 MONSIEUR ST. EVREMONt's 
 
 the ruin of his rival ; for he greatly feared that, if 
 Petronius were once re-instated in his master's fa- 
 vour^ he might, by the means of honest pleasures, 
 have restored Nero to himself, to the great blessing 
 of all honest men, and the confusion of Tigellinus 
 and others, his most flagitious panders. Knowing, 
 therefore, that the prince was naturally inclined to 
 cruelty, he insinuates that Petronius was too familiar 
 \vith Stevinus not to be concerned in Piso's conspi- 
 racy ; and, having suborned one of Petronius's slaves 
 to swear against his master, to deprive him of all 
 means to justify himself, he sends the greatest part of 
 his domestics to prison. Nero was well enougli 
 pleased to find an opportunity of parting with a man 
 who was become a check to his affairs ; for the vicious 
 cannot endure the presence of such whose sight re- 
 proaches them with tlieir abominable practices. lie 
 readily received the accusation against Petronius, and 
 ordered him to be apprehended at Cumes, when th« 
 emperor made a voyage thither, and Petronius should 
 be one of the company : but, as it required time to 
 deliberate whether they ought to put a man of hia; 
 figure to death w ithout clear proof of the crimes he 
 stood charged with, — -Petronius perceiving that his 
 life was a burthen to his prince, and that he only 
 wanted some colourable pretext to take it away, that 
 he might no longer be the sport of slaves and vil- 
 lains, he resolved to die. However, that he might 
 not give himself a precipitate death, he opened his 
 veins, then closed them again, that he might have 
 time to converse with his friends, who came to see 
 him in his. last moments; which he spent not iu
 
 VINDICATION OF EPICURUS. 207 
 
 discourses on the immortality of the soul, and those 
 celebrated axioms which the pride of philosophers 
 had invented to acquire glory and a vain opinion of 
 constancy, but with the recital of curious pieces of 
 poetry ; and, to convince the spectators that he did 
 not die, but only cease to live, he continued his 
 ordinary functions, — took a particular account of the 
 behaviour of his domestics, punished some, and re- 
 warded others, — sate as usual at his table, and slept 
 very quietly ; insomuch, that he rather seemed a man 
 in perfect health than one that was dying. At 
 length, perceiving the time draw near of shaking off 
 mortality, after using a little exercise, he fell into a 
 calm and gentle slumber ; so that his death, though 
 violent, appeared to his friends as if it had been 
 natural. Thus fell the great, the voluptuous Petronius, 
 a sacrifice to the ingratitude of Nero and the ambi- 
 tion of Tigellinus. Boast no more, then, of the 
 divine Socrates, and that constancy and firmness of 
 mind wherewith he drank the poison, — Petronius 
 yields not to him in the least particular: nay, 
 Petronius may claim the advantage of having; quitted 
 a life infinitely more delicious than that of the Greek 
 philosopher, with the same serenity of mind, and the 
 same equality of countenance. 
 
 But there remains one objection still against 
 Epicurus : his asserting the lawfulness and expe- 
 diency of self-murder. This is certainly a vei-y 
 heavy charge ; but it is plain, that in this, as in all 
 others, his enemies have had more regard to the 
 weight than the truth of the crime they charge him 
 with, not considering that, at the same time, the 
 
 Ff2
 
 208 MONSIEUR ST. EVREMONT's 
 
 weight of the objection lay fuller upon themselves. 
 Self-murder is undoubtedly a very heinous and abo- 
 minable crime, if we consider it either as Christians 
 or philosophers : it is a violation of the law of nature, 
 and expressly repugnant to the law of God. That 
 we may not, therefore, seem to justify that in our 
 philosopher, which God, the church, — nay, moral 
 philosophy itself, — so highly condemns, let us com- 
 pare the doctrine and practice of Epicurus with the 
 doctrine and practice of those who so vehemently 
 exclaim against him ; and, if I cannot fully clear him 
 in this point, I shall at least prove that he was not 
 single in his opinion, and that his enemies were 
 much more guilty herein than himself. " Every 
 man ought," says Epicurus, " to make it his care so 
 to live that life may not be a burthen to him, and 
 not to be willing to part with life till either Nature 
 or some intolerable case call upon him to surrender 
 it ; and, in that case, we are to weigh seriously 
 whether it be more commendable for us to stay till 
 death come to us, or to go and meet it : for, though 
 it be an evil indeed for us to live in necessity, yet 
 there is no necessity for us to live in necessity, — 
 since Nature hath been so kind to give us though 
 but one door into the world, yet many doors out of 
 it. But, although there be some cases so extreme 
 that, in respect of them, we are to hasten and fly to 
 the sanctuary of death, yet we are not to attempt 
 any thing in that kind but when it may be done op- 
 portunely and commendably." Thus, you see in 
 what limited sense our philosopher delivered this 
 doctrine : — it is not to be pursued, unless some
 
 VINDICATION OF EPICURUS.. 20r> 
 
 intolerable case require it ; nor then neither, except 
 it may be done opportunely and commendably. And 
 what is this intolerable case, which may justify a 
 man voluntarily to leap over the battlements of life? 
 Do his precepts any where shew it ? No. Poverty 
 it cannot be ; for wise and bountiful Nature hath so 
 provided against that, that those things which are 
 necessary are easy to be procured ; whereas, those 
 tilings which are unnecessary are hard to come by. 
 " If you live according to nature, you shall never be 
 poor; if according to opinion, you shall never be 
 rich : nature desires little, — opinion is never satisfied." 
 Neither can it be when any pain whatsoever afflicts 
 the body. " No pain is both intolerable and perpe- 
 tual ;" for if it be long, it must be light, and if great, 
 short : it is either determined of itself, and succeeded, 
 if not by an absolute indolence, yet by a very great 
 mitigation ; or it is determined by death, in which 
 there can be no pain. Neither can it be when the 
 mind is loaded or oppressed ; for " discontent of 
 mind is not grounded upon Nature, but upon mere 
 opinion of evil ; and it is reason alone which makes 
 life happy and pleasant, by expelling ail such falso 
 conceits or opinions as may any way disturb the 
 mind." Why, then, doth Epicurus so highly extol 
 that person, who, when some intolerable case calls 
 upon him to surrender his life, leaps over the battle- 
 ments of life bravely ? To this I answer, our phi- 
 losopher was of a modest, humble temper and 
 disposition, — not positive and dogmatical, as his 
 enemies generally were ; and, therefore, though he 
 had fully answered all the arguments which have ever
 
 210 Monsieur st. evremont's 
 
 yet been made use of to justify that abominable 
 crime, and had plainly demonstrated that it was 
 ridiculous for a man, out of weariness of life, to fly 
 to death as a sanctuary, when his own imprudence 
 and irregular course of life are the only causes of 
 that weariness. But, as our philosopher would not 
 positively determine but that such extreme cases 
 might at some time or other happen, for which phi- 
 losophy could find no other or more proper remedy 
 than death, — then, and then only, he encourages to 
 dispatch, and leap over the battlements of life 
 bravely : for neither is it fit for him Avho thinks of 
 flight to sleep ; nor are we to despair of a happy 
 exit, even from the greatest diflSculties, in case we 
 neither hasten before our time, nor let it slip when 
 it comes. And the practice of Epicurus fully evinces 
 that he was very careful not to hasten before his 
 time ; for he endured the tormenting pains of the 
 stone, and other most acute diseases, for many years 
 together, with a most admirable patience and invin- 
 cible courage, and waited till extreme old age gently 
 put out his lamp of life. 
 
 On the contrary, if we enquire into the doctrine 
 and practice of other philosophers, we shall soon find 
 that the Stoics not only approved of it, but strictly 
 enjoined men to embrace death voluntarily, and from 
 their own hands. The doctrine you have from 
 Cicero, who, in his treatise De Legibus, implicitly 
 commends it in these words : " I judge that man 
 worthy of condemnation who kills himself, if he do 
 it neither by order of state, nor compelled by any 
 intolerable or inevitable chance of fortune, nor 
 
 4
 
 VINDICATION OP EPICURUS. 211 
 
 oppressed by any ignominy of a poor and miserable 
 life ;" and, in his Second Tusculan Question, he 
 expressly enjoins it in these words: — " That rule 
 ought to be observed in life which prevails in the 
 Grecian feasts : either let a man drink, or let him 
 leave the company ; because a man should drink 
 with the same freedom as others do, or go away, lest, 
 being sober, he should be abused by his drunken 
 companions : so, if you cannot bear the injuries of 
 fortune, you ought to avoid them by flight." Agree- 
 able hereunto was their practice : for thus Zeno, 
 futher of the Stoics, a man of the most spotless cha- 
 racter of any of the philosophers, having by a fall 
 bruised one of his fingers, interpreted it as a sum- 
 inons to the grav«, went presently home and hanged 
 himself, and was therefore, by Diogenes Laertius, ho- 
 noured with this eulogy : — " A most happy man, who, 
 safe, sound, and witliout disease, departed this life." 
 Thus Demosthenes, to prevent being beholden to any 
 one but himself either for his life or death, drank 
 poison out of that quill which had given him im- 
 mortality long before. Thus also Democles, to pre- 
 vent his pollution by the unnatural heat of a lustful 
 Greek tyrant, who attempted to force him, leaped 
 into a copper of scalding water; and thus Cleanthes, 
 Chrysippus, and Empedoclcs, brake open the gates 
 of death, and forced their passage into another 
 world. To these we may add the memorable ex- 
 amples of that prince of Roman wisdom (as Lactantius 
 calls him), Cato, who, with his own hands and 
 sword, opened a flood-gate in his bowels to let his 
 life flow out, having the night before prepared
 
 212 MONSIEUR ST. EVREMONt'S 
 
 himself to fall bravely, by reading Plato's Discourse 
 on the ImmortaHty of the Soul ; and of the famous 
 Cleombrotus, who, upon no other inducement than 
 Plato's reasons in the same Discourse, threw himself 
 from a precipice, as if he went instantly to experience 
 the truth of what he had so lately read. 
 
 From all that hath been said, we may at length 
 conclude that Epicurus was a person of a sublime wit 
 and profound judgment, — a great master of temper- 
 ance, sobriety, continence, fortitude, and all other vir- 
 tues, — no patron of impiety, gluttony, drunkenness, 
 luxury, or any other intemperance ; that he was the 
 greatest of all philosophers ; that the doctrine which 
 he tauo'ht was of all others the most conducible to a 
 happy life, and such as none besides himself ever 
 taught by the pure light of Nature. Nay, though 
 Epicurus and his doctrine have been exploded and 
 rejected, through the ignorance of some and the 
 malice of others, I will not be afraid to say, that 
 good and pious Christians are the truest Epicureans : 
 they only have a right notion of that undeniable 
 truth which he so strenuously inculcates, viz. — that 
 all felicity consists in pleasure ; they only know, that 
 to exercise oneself, to have a conscience void of of- 
 fence, both towards God and towards man, is a 
 practice full of pleasure in this life, and will be re- 
 Warded with inexpressible and eternal joys in the 
 world to come. Whereas, on the other hand, the 
 consciousness of an ill-spent life is a constant and 
 inseparable tormentor, which perpetually haunts and 
 afflicts the guilty in this world, and will be a never- 
 dying, ever -gnawing worm of misery to them in the
 
 VINDICATION OF EPICURUS. 213 
 
 next. In short, if we do not, with Epicurus, place 
 our happiness in pleasure, and run that race which is 
 set before us with cheerfulness, it will be vain for us 
 to expect to hear, at the last day, that joyful saluta- 
 tion of our great Captain and Saviour, — " Well done, 
 thou good and faithful servant, enter thou into the 
 joy of thy Lord !" 
 
 G g
 
 A BRIEF, BUT CORRECT SKETCH 
 
 pF 
 
 THE LIFE or ISOCRATES. 
 
 IsocRATES, a celebrated orator and moralist, was the 
 son of Theodorus, a rich musical instrument maker 
 at Athens. He was taught in the schools of Gorgias 
 and Prodicas ; but his oratorical abilities were never 
 displayed in public, and he was prevented by an un- 
 conquerable timidity from speaking in the popular 
 assemblies. He opened a school of eloquence at 
 Athens, where he distinguished himself by the num- 
 ber^ the character, and the fame of his pupils, and 
 by the immense riches which he amassed. He was 
 intimate with Philip of Macedon, with whom he re- 
 gularly corresponded ; and to his familiarity with 
 that monarch the Athenians were indebted for some 
 of the few peaceful years which they passed. The 
 aspiring ambition of Philip, however, displeased 
 Isocrates ; and the defeat of the Athenians at Che- 
 ronaea had such an effect upon his spirits, that he 
 did not survive the disgrace of his country, but died, 
 after he had been four days without taking any ali- 
 ment, in the ninety-ninth year of his age, about 338 
 years before Christ.
 
 THE LIFE OF ISOCRATES, 215 
 
 Isocrates has always been much admired for the 
 sweetness and graceful simplicity of his style, for the 
 harmony of his expressions, and the dignity of his 
 language. The remains of his orations extant in- 
 spire the world with the highest veneration for his 
 abilities as a moralist, an orator, and, above all, as a 
 man. His merit, however, is lessened by those who 
 accuse him of plagiarism from the works of Thucy- 
 dides, Lysias, and others, seen particularly in his 
 panegyric. He was so studious of correctness, that 
 his lines are sometimes poetry. The severe conduct 
 of the Athenians against Socrates highly displeased 
 him, and, in spite of all the undeserved unpopularity 
 of that great philosopher, he put on mourning the day 
 of his death. About thirty-one of his Orations are 
 extant. Isocrates was honoured, after death, with a 
 brazen statue, by Timotheus, one of his pupils, and 
 Aphareus, his adopted son. The best editions of 
 Isocrates are that of Battie, 2 vols. 8vo. Cantab. 1729, 
 and that of Auger, 3 vols. 8vo. Paris 1782. — Pint, 
 de 10 Orat. &c.— Cic. Orat. 20 de Inv. 2, c. 126. in 
 Brut. c. 15. de Orat. 2, c. 6.— Quintil. 2, &c.— 
 JPaterc. 1. c. 16.* 
 
 * In the former edition of Isocrates, translated by Digby, there 
 was no Life of him given by the translator, but which the editor of 
 the present conceived necessary to prefix to the work of so great 
 and good a character. 
 
 Gg2
 
 THE MORALS OF ISOCRATES, 
 
 IN HIS 
 
 ADVICE TO DEMONICUS. 
 
 TRANSLATED FROM THE GREEK, BY MR. DIGBY. 
 
 We are going, Demonicus, to discourse of things 
 that will afford us an opportunity of distinguishing 
 between good and bad men, in reference to their 
 sentiments. There is a world of diiference between 
 them, even in their conversation and behaviour ; for 
 the one has only a regard to his friends when he is 
 with them, the other loves them at ever so remote a 
 distance : the friendship of the one is destroyed in a 
 little time, the other seems to be permanent and 
 lasting ; as it is natural then to think that they who 
 are in pursuit of virtue and honour will take for their 
 patterns the virtuous, rather than the wicked. I 
 present you with this discourse as a distinguishing 
 token of our mutual friendship, and a clear demon- 
 stration of the familiarity I had with Hipponicus ; for 
 children are not only entitled to their paternal estate, 
 but also to the friendship and intimacy of their pa- 
 rent's acquaintance. 
 
 Now I have the comfort to see not only Fortune 
 willing to favour our design, but opportunity likewise 
 to declare itself for us. For you seem desirous of
 
 THE ADVICE OF ISOCRATES TO DEMONICUS. 217 
 
 instruction, and I make profession of instructing- ; 
 you are in pursuit of wisdom and philosophy, and I 
 take upon me to guide and direct in those studies. 
 
 They wiio write to their friends exhortatory dis- 
 courses, discharge a very good office and do a very 
 good deed ; but that, notwithstanding, is not the 
 chief task of philosophy : for they who inform youth 
 not only how to attain to a powerful and persuading 
 style, but how to correct their lives and manners, are 
 by so much the more useful to their disciples than the 
 others, — that those teach them only how to speak, 
 while these inform them how to live. We, therefore, 
 not finding any real occasion for the first part, and 
 having chiefly in view the latter, shall take upon us 
 only to advise you in reference to those things, to the 
 prosecution of which youth ought to be spurred up and 
 excited, and those which they ought chiefly to de- 
 cline and shun ; and at the same time to prescribe 
 what persons they ought to pitch upon for their con- 
 versation, and how they ought to dispose and econo- 
 mise their life : for they alone who have followed this 
 track have been able truly to attain to virtue, than 
 which there is not a more estimable nor equally 
 valuable good. As for beauty, it is either destroyed 
 with time or impaired by sickness ; and for wealth, 
 it is more subservient to wickedness than honesty 
 and virtue, for it not only promotes idleness, but 
 enables youth to pursue their pleasures ; and though 
 strength, governed by wisdom, is a blessing of great 
 use, yet without that it is more pernicious than bene- 
 ficial ; and, as it may be said to he an ornament to 
 wrestlers and other practitioners in that kind, so it
 
 218 THE ADVICE OF 
 
 may be said to hinder and obstruct the improvement 
 of the mind : whereas, virtue alone, if it has taken 
 due rooting and increase in our hearts, does accom- 
 pany us even in our old age, is more profitable to us^ 
 than riches, and more advantageous than birth and 
 nobility, — for she alone makes that possible to her 
 followers which all others find impossible ; they un- 
 dergoing with fortitude what appears terrible to the 
 multitude, ranking laziness among those things we 
 ought to blame, and labour and industry among 
 those we ought to praise. This we may plainly leam 
 from the miahtv labours of Hercules, and from the 
 great achievements of Theseus. The known virtue 
 of these great men has stamped such a noble cha- 
 racter upon their performances, that time itself can 
 never impair it. If you do but reflect on your father's 
 wav of livino', \ou will find in that a noble and do- 
 mestic instance of the truth of what I say ; for he 
 neither neglected virtue nor passed his days in idle- 
 ness and sloth, but inured his body to labour and his 
 mind to undergo perils and dangers : he had neither 
 an inordinate nor unseasonable love for wealth, but 
 enjoyed the present good as being mortal, and took 
 care at the same time of his substance, as if he had 
 been immortal. He did not live after a sneaking, 
 niggardly manner, but honourably and magnificently, 
 and was bountiful to his friends, perfeiring those 
 that were dilis^ent and serviceable to him even to his 
 relations by blood. He was of opinion tliat, in con^ 
 trading a familiar friendship, nature was to be con- 
 sidered preferably to law, morality before lineage, 
 and a judicious choice before necessity. It would
 
 iSOCRATES TO DEMONlCUS. 219 
 
 be an endless work to relate all his actions, and we 
 shall account for them exactly at another time. 
 
 We have here given you a copy of Hipponicus' 
 natural disposition, which you ought to take for a 
 rule in the regulating of your life, making his practice 
 your law, and endeavouring to be a zealous emulator 
 of your father's virtue. 
 
 It would be a shameful thing that painters should 
 be able to come up to the perfectional beauties of 
 animals, and that children should not make it their 
 business to imitate the distinguishing virtues of their 
 parents. Be convinced, therefore, that no Athlete 
 ought to prepare himself more against the encounter 
 he is to have with his adversary, than you to strive to 
 come up to a par with your father in his excellent 
 study and endeavours. Now, it is impossible you 
 should execute this, unless your mind is filled with 
 due preparatory instructions ; for, as the strength of 
 the body is increased by proportionable labour, so 
 the soul is fortified by proper and virtuous discourses. 
 
 Wherefore, I shall endeavour, in a succinct and 
 short manner, to lay before you the means by which 
 you may, at the same time, not only attain to the 
 most consummate virtue, but likewise gain the ge- 
 neral applause of all mankind. Let this, then, be 
 your first rule, — not only to venerate the gods by 
 sacrifice and worship, but to observe religiously your 
 oaths ; for, as that implies a plentiful estate, this is 
 a testimonial of real honour and virtue. 
 
 Be careful, then, constantly to pay your duty to 
 God in private, but never omit it in the public \a or- 
 ship; by wliich means you will show yourself to 
 
 4
 
 220 THE ADVICE OP 
 
 venerate the gods, at tlie same time to have a due 
 reoard to the laws. 
 
 Let your carriage and behaviour to your parents 
 be such as you would wish your children should be 
 towards you. 
 
 Exercise your body not to improve your strength, 
 but so far forth as tends to the procuration of your 
 health. You may propose to come up to this, if you 
 moderate your labour so that you still are capable of 
 doing more. 
 
 Neither applaud an impertinent laughter, nor close 
 in with a rash discourse ; for the one is foolish, and 
 the other madness. 
 
 Never think that that can be spoken with decency 
 which modesty is ashamed to act. Do not affect a 
 demure or severe look, but always have a presence of 
 mind : for by the one you will appear self-conceited, 
 by the other always wise. 
 
 Esteem that most to become you which is decent, 
 modest, just, and temperate ; for in these chiefly 
 consists the morality of youth. Never consent to do 
 a shameful act by the hopes you may conceive that it 
 may never be known ;' for, though you conceal it 
 from others, you will still be conscious of it to your- 
 self. 
 
 Love God, and honour your parents.* 
 
 Have a modest and due respect for your friends, 
 but be obedient to the laws. 
 
 * This precept is agreeable to the law of nature and of reason, 
 and such as Christ iuculcated above three hundred years after 
 Isocrates.— Editor,
 
 ISOCRATES TO DEMONICUS. 221 
 
 Pursue those pleasures only that are accompanied 
 with honour and glory ; for that pleasure which has 
 virtue for its companion is avaluable good, — whereas, 
 without it, it is a detestable evil. 
 
 Be careful to avoid the occasions of being aspersed 
 in your reputation, though you know they are lies 
 you are charged with ; for, as a great many will be 
 ignorant of the truth as to fact, so they will be liable 
 to be imposed upon by rumour and report. 
 
 In all you do, imagine every-body will know it; 
 for, admit you could keep it a mystery for a while, it 
 will be at last unfolded and made public. 
 
 You will gain a confirmed reputation, if you are 
 known to avoid those actions you censure and blame 
 in others. 
 
 If you are a lover of learning, you will acquire 
 great knowledge. 
 
 Those things you have attained the knowledge of 
 must be retained by practice, and at the same time 
 vou must take care to inform vourself of those thinirs 
 of which you are ignorant. 
 
 It would be as great a shame not to learn an useful 
 discourse, as not to receive a good present whicli 
 your friends should make you. 
 
 Spend your leisure hours in hearing good dis- 
 courses : by so doing, you will learn, with ease and 
 facility, what has cost others a great deal of laboiu' 
 and pains to lind out. 
 
 Set a greater value on the having received many 
 instructive and useful lessons, than on the possessing 
 great store of wealth : for the one is a fleeting, pe- 
 rishable, and transitory good ; the other is durable, — 
 
 u h
 
 222 THE ADVICE OF 
 
 nay, everlasting. Among all the things this world 
 affords us, the possession and enjoyment of wisdom 
 is alone immortal. 
 
 Do not think much to take a long journey, to hear 
 those who make profession to teach useful and profit- 
 able things : for it would be a shameful and foul re- 
 flection, that merchants should undertake such tedious 
 vovao^es by sea for the lucre onlv of increasing; their 
 wealth, and that youth should repine at a little land- 
 journey to refine their notions and cultivate their 
 mind. 
 
 As to your behaviour, be affable and easy of access, 
 and let your language be courteous and civil : the 
 one requires you should take notice of those you 
 meet ; the other, that you should speak obligingly to 
 them. But be sure to carry it handsomely to all in 
 general, though you converse familiarly but with the 
 best ; by which procedure you will disoblige nobody, 
 and be certain of the esteem and friendship of men 
 of merit. 
 
 Let not your visits be too frequent to the same 
 persons, nor your discourse too long on the same sub- 
 jects ; for there is a satiety of all things. 
 
 Enure yourself to voluntary labour, that you may 
 be the better able to undergo what necessity shall lay 
 upon you. 
 
 Take special care to govern and suppress whatever 
 can be the least blemish to a handsome mind, — as 
 sordid gain, anger, voluptuousness, and grief 
 
 You will compass this, if you esteem that the 
 greatest gain which procures you a good reputation, 
 ratlier than that which augments your wealth : you 
 
 3
 
 ISOCRATES TO DEMONICUS. 223 
 
 will conquer anger, if you behave yourself towards 
 offenders as you would have others behave themselves 
 to you when you transgress :* and you will bid fair to 
 get the better of pleasure, if you frequently reflect 
 how shameful it is to have the command over your 
 servants, and at the same time be a slave to your 
 passions ; and you will master affliction, if you seri- 
 ously look into other men's misfortunes, and at the 
 same time consider that the condition of man renders 
 you liable to the same. 
 
 Be no less exact in keeping the secrets entrusted 
 to you, than you would be faithful in reference to 
 deposits of the greatest value ; for a good and 
 virtuous man's morals should gain him more confi- 
 dence and credit than any oath. 
 
 As you ought to distrust the vicious, so you ought 
 to believe the virtuous. Never reveal your secrets to 
 any, except it is as much their interest to keep them 
 as it is yours that they should be kept. If an oath 
 be tendered you, take it on two accounts, — either to 
 clear yourself from any crime laid to your charge, or 
 else to free your friends from danger : but never, for 
 the sake of riches, swear by any god, although you 
 might do it with a safe conscience ; for, by so doing, 
 you will be thought perjured by some, while others 
 think you avaricious. 
 
 Never contract a friendship M'^ith any-body till 
 you have first examined how he behaved himself to 
 his former friends ; for you will have good reason to 
 hope that he will be the same to you as he was to 
 
 ♦ Vide 24th Moral of Confucius ; Malt. vii. 12 ; Luke vi. 3i. 
 
 Hh2
 
 224 THE ADVICE OP 
 
 them. Take sufficient time before you profess your- 
 self a friend ; but, that once done, endeavour to 
 be always such : for it is equally shameful to have no 
 friends at all, and to change them often. 
 
 Do not try your friends to your prejudice, and yet 
 at the same time take care to know their disposition 
 towards you. You will easily do this if you put on 
 necessity when you really do not want, and commu- 
 nicate thing's to them as secrets that in fact are not 
 so ; by which means you w ill be sure to receive no 
 damage from their infidelity, if they are false ; and, 
 if they are faithful, you w ill thereby discover their 
 integrity. 
 
 You may make a trial of your friends in the mis- 
 fortunes that attend life, and by their sharing in your 
 dangers ; for, as we try gold by the fire, so we dis- 
 tinguish our friends by adversity. 
 
 You will discharge yourself best of your duty to 
 your friends, if you do not wait till they apply to 
 you ; but freely, and of your own accord, relieve and 
 assist them when occasion requires. 
 
 Think it as dishonourable to be outdone by your 
 friends in good offices, as to be overcome and 
 worsted by the malice and evil practices of your 
 enemies. 
 
 Do not reckon them only to be your friends who 
 grieve at your misfortunes, but likewise those who do 
 not envy your prosperity ; for a great many will ex- 
 press concern when their friends are afflicted, who 
 shall look with an invidious eye on the liberalities of 
 an indulgent fortune. 
 
 Speak kindly of your absent friends to those
 
 ISOCRATES TO DEMONICUS. 225 
 
 that are present, that they may not think you are 
 unmindful of themselves when they are absent. 
 
 Be decent in your apparel, but not foppish. Nom', 
 he that keeps up to decency may be splendid in his 
 apparel ; whereas, the fop shall be extravagant and 
 whimsical. 
 
 Do not covet a superfluity of riches, but the enjoy- 
 ment of a competency. Entertain a mean opinion of 
 those who are continually heaping up wealth, and 
 yet know not how to make use of what they have ; 
 for it fares with these men just as it does with those 
 that possess a fine horse, without having the skill to 
 ride him. 
 
 Endeavour to acquire wealth, that it may be use- 
 ful to you, as well as possessed by you. Now, it is 
 useful to those who relish the fruition thereof; 
 whereas, it is barely a possession to those who know 
 not how to make a rio:ht use of it. 
 
 Set a due value on the riches you are master of, 
 for two reasons : the one, that you may be able to 
 pay a large fine if it be requisite ; the other, that you 
 may have wherewith to relieve a friend in distress. 
 As for the other regards of life, love them with mo- 
 deration, and not excess. 
 
 Be contented with what you have, and seek at the 
 same time to make the best improvement of it you 
 can. 
 
 Never upbraid any one with his misfortunes, for for- 
 tune is common to all, and nobody can see into futurity. 
 
 Do all the good you can to virtuous and good men ; 
 for a good office done to a man of worth and merit is 
 a noble treasure.
 
 226 THE ADVICE OF 
 
 If you oblige unworthy men, you will be requited 
 as they are who feed other people's dogs ; and, as 
 these bark as well at those that feed them as at 
 strangers, so those are apt to injure as well their be- 
 nefactors as their enemies. Be as much averse to 
 flatterers as to sycophants and impostors ; for both 
 tlie one and tlie other are equally pernicious if be- 
 lieved. 
 
 If you admit for friends those that gratify and en- 
 courage your wickedness, you will dishearten any 
 one from incurring your displeasure on the score of 
 virtue. 
 
 Let your behaviour towards them that approach 
 you be familiar and obliging, and not stiff: they are 
 very different personages ; for the haughty carriage 
 of the one can hardly be borne with even by their 
 own domestics, while the other's engaging way is 
 pleasing to every body. Now, you will show your- 
 self courteous, and win the good will of every one, if 
 you are not captious, quarrelsome, and hard to be 
 pleased by those you converse with: in order to 
 which, you must not oppose too roughly those whom 
 passion and anger shall hurry away, though at the 
 same time they are altogether in the wrong ; but, on 
 the contrary, give w ay to their transports, and when 
 tliey are calm take an opportunity to remind them of 
 their error. Never put on a serious and grave coun- 
 tenance when the jest is going round, nor aftect 
 levity and airiness where gravity is required ; for 
 whatever is ill-timed and unseasonable is vexatious. 
 Above all things, take care not to do a good office 
 after an ungraceful manner, as a great many do, who.
 
 ISOCRATES TO DEMONICUS. 227 
 
 at the same time that they serve their friends, do it 
 disagreeably and disgustfully. Avoid wrangling, be- 
 cause it is odious ; and shun censoriousness, because 
 it is provoking. 
 
 Have a special care how you associate with men of 
 the bottle ; but be sure, if occasion makes you fall 
 into such company, to withdraw before the liquor gets 
 the better of you : for he whose mind is overpowered 
 with wine is like the chariot whose driver is cast out 
 of the box ; this going at random for want of the hand 
 to guide it, and the other running all manner of risks 
 and dangers for want of thought. 
 
 Have greatness of soul enough to relish immorta- 
 lity, and at the same time moderation enough to 
 enjoy the transitory blessings Heaven has bestowed 
 upon you. 
 
 Make a right estimate of the advantage education 
 has over ignorance. They who are possessed of the 
 one turn all to their advantage, while the others are 
 generally mortified and afflicted ; it frequently hap- 
 pening that they suffer, in fact, for what they have 
 indiscreetly uttered. 
 
 Speak well of those you desire to make your friends 
 before them you are sure will tell it to them again ; for 
 commendation is the beginning of friendship, whereas 
 slander and backbiting is the source of hatred and 
 enmity. 
 
 In point of counsel and deliberation, take exam- 
 ples of the past for the future ; for what is dark and 
 mysterious becomes plain and easy by what has al- 
 ready happened.
 
 228 THE ADVTCE OF 
 
 Take time to deliberate and advise, but lose no 
 lime ill executing your resolutions. It belongs to 
 Heaven to prosper our undertakings ; but it is our 
 business to consider what we do. 
 
 Those things you are ashamed to speak of with 
 reference to yourself, and at the same time would be 
 glad to advise with friends about, relate them as 
 if they concerned others, and not you ; by which 
 means you will know the sentiments of those you 
 consult, without discovering yourself 
 
 Y3^ien you have a mind to advise with any one 
 cohcerning your private ajfFairs, examine well first 
 how he has managed his own : for he that has been 
 faulty in the administration of his own concerns will 
 never be able to advise well with reference to those 
 of others. You will be most excited to consult and 
 advise, if you seriously look into the miscarriages of 
 temerity and rashness ; for we then take the greatest 
 care of our health, when the pains and tortures of our 
 infirmities are fresh in our memory. 
 
 Imitate the manners of good princes, and practise 
 their studies. Now, you shall seem to copy and 
 emulate them, that you may improve your reputatioil 
 with the public, and confirm the prince's good dispo- 
 sition towards you. 
 
 Be obedient to the laws of just princes, but look 
 upon their manners to be more powerful than their 
 laws: for, as he that lives under a democracy must 
 observe the people, so it behoves him who lives in a 
 monarchical government to admire the moral ^ irtues 
 of the prince. If you are placed in power, take care 
 to make use of no ill men in the admiiii?iUalion
 
 ISOCRATES TO DEMONICUS. 229 
 
 thereof; for whatever they do amiss will be ascribed 
 to you. 
 
 Do not make it your business to acquire vast 
 riches in pubUc employments ; but take care to dis- 
 charge them with so much integrity, that, when you 
 leave them, you may do it with honour and reputa- 
 tion : for the esteem and favour of the public is much 
 more valuable than wealth. 
 
 Neither be present at any evil action, nor protect 
 any that shall be guilty thereof; for you w'U be 
 thought yourself to act what you defend and patr ise 
 in others. 
 
 Procure to yourself as much power and interest as 
 you can, and at the same time be contented to live 
 upon the level with others, that you may appear to 
 love and practise justice, not through want of power, 
 but for the sake of decency and equity. 
 
 Prefer a just and honourable poverty to ill-gotten 
 riches : for probity and justice are by so much pre- 
 ferable to wealth, that this is only of use to us while 
 we live, while those do us honour even after our 
 death ; besides, the wicked may participate of that, 
 while none but the virtuous can partake of these. 
 
 Do not rival those who thrive through wickedness, 
 but rather approve and imitate them that suffer for 
 the sake of justice ; for the just have this advantage, 
 at least, over the wicked, if no other, — that they ex- 
 ceed them in good hopes and expectancy. 
 
 Have a necessary regard to all that relates to the 
 support of life, but cultivate your mind as much as 
 you can; for a handsome mind is a noble thing, 
 though shut up in a human body. 
 
 I i „
 
 230 THE ADVICE OF 
 
 Enure your body to labour, and your mind to 
 wisdom, — that by the one you may be able to execute 
 your resolutions, and by the other determine what 
 you ought to do for your advantage and interest. 
 
 Consider seriously withyourself to whomsoever you 
 are to speak ; for it is the fault of a great many to let 
 their tono^ue out-run their thoug-hts. 
 
 Imprint this maxim deeply in your mind, — that 
 there is nothing certain in this human and mortal 
 state; by which means you will shun being trans- 
 ported with prosperity, and being dejected in 
 adversity. 
 
 There are two seasonable times to speak, either on 
 those subjects you know perfectly well, or on those 
 that necessity puts upon you : now, it is in the latter 
 that it is better to speak than be silent ; in the other, 
 it is better to be silent than talk. 
 
 It is allowable to be pleased with good fortune, and 
 to be moderately grieved at afflictions ; but never 
 manifest yourself either in the one or the other : for 
 it is preposterous and ridiculous that we should take 
 the utmost care not to increase our riches, and at the 
 saniie time expose our mind. 
 
 Be more cautious in avoiding any thing that is 
 blameful and faulty, than of dangers and perils : for, 
 as the wicked ought to be afraid of death, so the vir- 
 tuous and good ought to fear doing any thing that is 
 dishonourable. 
 
 Use your utmost endeavour to live securely ; but, 
 if you are at any time obliged to hazard your person, 
 then seek no other safety during the war than what is 
 consistent with honour and glory, and not that which 
 
 3
 
 ISOCRATES TO DEMONICUS. 231 
 
 is attended with shame and infamy : for destiny has 
 decreed that all men should die, but to die well is 
 the particulai' privilege of the virtuous and good. 
 
 Do not wonder if a great deal of what I have said 
 to you does not suit your age ; for I am not insen- 
 sible of that myself. But I chose, at one and the 
 same time, to give you my advice concerning your 
 present behaviour, and leave you precepts and direc- 
 tions to guide you hereafter. You will easily discover 
 the utility of these things; but you will find it a 
 difficult matter to meet with a faithful counsellor that 
 shall advise you with tenderness and good will : 
 therefore, that you may not be necessitated to have 
 recourse to others, but may here find, as in a maga- 
 zine, what you have occasion for, I thought it conve- 
 nient to omit nothing that I was able to instruct you 
 in. I shall give God a great many thanks if I am not 
 deceived in the hopes I have conceived of you. As it 
 is the common practice of most to delight rather in 
 that food which gratifies their palate, than in that 
 which is wholesome and salutary, so they seek the 
 conversation of those friends that are co-partners in 
 their vice, rather than of those who remind them 
 of their faults : but I no-wise doubt but you have 
 resolved to do quite otherwise. I ground my judg- 
 ment on your diligence and labour in your other 
 studies ; for it is reasonable to believe that he that 
 enjoins himself the practice of what is most com- 
 mendable and best, will courteously receive from 
 others their exhortations to virtue. It will be a 
 mighty incentive to your prosecuting what is virtu- 
 ous and honourable, if you duly consider that the 
 
 i'i2
 
 282 THE ADVICE OP 
 
 pleasure arising therefrom is genuine and unmixed. 
 Sloth, idleness, and luxury, are followed close at the 
 heels by vexations and trouble ; whereas, a laborious 
 and strict adherence to virtue, and a temperate, 
 sober, and well-regulated life, render our pleasures 
 more solid and sincere : those afford us at first some 
 sort of satisfaction, which is afterwards succeeded 
 by grief and sorrow ; w hile the difficulties and un- 
 easiness that accompany this is ever attended with 
 delight. Now , in all our actions, when they are past, 
 we are not so deeply affected with their beginning as 
 we are sensibly touched with their conclusion and 
 ending ; for, generally speaking, the greatest part of 
 the actions of our life are not transacted so much for 
 their own sake as for the ensuing consequences 
 thereof. Consider w ith yourself, that the vicious and 
 wicked are capable of doing any thing, and stick at 
 nothing, they having laid that as the ground and 
 foundation of their way of living ; but the honest and 
 good cannot swerve from the rules of virtue, but they 
 will immediately be censured, and find a great many 
 reprovers. We are not, for the most part, so much 
 incensed against transgressors and offenders, as we 
 are against those that pretend to a more than ordinary 
 virtue, and yet differ in nothing from the vulgar : and 
 this with all the justice imaginable; for, since we, 
 with reason, blame those that are unfaithful in their 
 word and are given to lying, shall we scruple to con- 
 demn those who, through the whole course of their 
 lives, have, under a specious appearance, practised 
 nothing but vice? We may justly say of such a cast 
 of men, that they are not only injurious to themselves.
 
 ISOCRATES TO DEMONICUS, 2-33 
 
 but also that they are traitors to Fortune, — she hav- 
 ing Uberally bestowed upon them riches, honour, and 
 friends, when, at the same time, they show them- 
 selves unworthy of her favours. If it be no crime 
 for mortals to guess at the thoughts of the gods, I 
 think they notify to us, by familiar examples, how 
 differently they are disposed towards the wicked and 
 the good : for Jupiter, having well weighed the actions 
 of both Hercules and Tantalus, (as the mythologists 
 tell us, and as it is generally believed, made the one 
 immortal for his virtue, and adjudged the other to the 
 greatest tortures. Now, they that look into these ex- 
 amples ought thereby to be spurred up to the practice 
 of what is virtuous, and not be contented w ith what we 
 have said, but likewise learn the best things the poets 
 have expressed, and read whatever the wise and 
 learned have written that is of any use : for, as we 
 see the bee settle upon every flower, in order to ex- 
 tract from it the virtue and quintessence thereof, so 
 ought they to do who covet to be informed and in- 
 structed : they must leave nothing unattempted, but 
 gather from all parts w^hat is for their use ; for, with 
 all this care, they w ill find it difficult and hard enough 
 to overcome the viciousness of nature. 
 
 THE END.
 
 (\ 
 
 ^J 
 
 ^\-^fA'^ 
 
 1 >^
 
 UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LIBRARY 
 
 Los Angeles 
 This book is DUE on the last date stamped below. 
 
 
 iW'M 

 
 2\0-:/tk 
 
 B 
 
 21 
 
 W38p 
 
 1818 
 
 v.l 
 
 l^-^ J 
 
 
 4/ V ■ 
 
 J 
 
 ife^ 
 
 
 \^g^ 
 
 ;^-: 
 
 .^'t ^ 
 \-:^'<^, 
 
 /'J 
 
 
 1 , >>»«^ 
 
 •I 
 
 iv<-» 
 
 
 \ v^ 
 
 
 \ ^^ 
 
 
 v.,^
 
 
 ,v:>^J|^^:, 
 
 
 
 
 
 ->'!^ilSSHr>^" ^" 
 
 
 
 
 
 -*>J^■t*^^ x'V 
 
 
 
 -^.4 ^ 
 
 '^>^^"2»o^ 
 
 '' -? "^ ^^ J8*» ^>