CHAP. I. Of the Formation of Man.

THIS is twofold, and therefore capable of a double Consideration: For the First and Original Formation was the im­mediate Work of God's own Hand; and this was Supernatural and Miraculous. The Second is the Work of ordinary Generation, and lineal De­scent, according to the common and established Course of Nature.

According to that Image given us by Moses, of the Creation of the World, which (for the Nine first Chapters of Genesis, wherein we have an account of the first and second Birth of the Universe) is without dispute, the boldest, noblest, and most satisfactory System, that ever was pub­lish'd, we may observe several Preferences and Pri­vileges [Page 16]peculiar to Man. For he was made by God, not only after all other living Creatures, as the most exquisite and compleat; the Master and Superintendent over the rest (so runs his O­riginal Commission,Gen. 1. Let him have dominion over the Fishes of the Sea, and over the Fowls of the Air, and over the Beasts of the Field;) made the same Day with Land-Animals, and Four-footed Beasts; which bear the nearest resemblance to him of any other Animals: But made, after all the rest was ended, as the last and finishing Stroke; the Seal with which it pleas'd Almighty God to close up the whole Creation. And accordingly he hath given him such a Bearing and Impress, as plainly speak how nobly he is descended.^* The Brightness of the Divinity strongly reflected upon him. ^† So that each Man is a sort of God in Miniature; expresly said to be formed in His own Image, and after His Likeness. Man is likewise not only the Creator, but the whole Creation in Little; the Universe in one small Volume: Whence it is that Man is sometimes styled a Little World; and by the same reason the World might be cal­led a Great Man. He is, as it were, the Mediator of the different parts of Nature, that Link of this long Chain, by which Angels and Brutes, Heaven and Earth, the Spiritual and Corporeal Creation, are ty'd together; and that void Space supply'd, which wou'd make a wide and most unseemly Gap in the Universe, if not fill'd up, and the Se­ries thus continu'd, by a Creature partaking of both Extremes. In a word, This was the last Touch, the Master-piece, the Honour, and Ornament, nay, the Prodigy, and miraculous Production of Nature. Hence it is that God is represented to us as entring into Consultation, and making this No­ble [Page 17]Creature with Deliberation and Thought. God said, let us make Man. Gen. 2: And when he had formed Man, he is said to have ended all his Work, and to have rested. Nay, even that Rest it self, and the perpetual Commemoration of it, was for His Sake and Bensit. The Sabbath was made for Man, Mark 2. and not Man for the Sabbath, says Truth it self. After this there was no New thing form'd, till that most stu­pendous Miracle of Mercy, when God made himself Man: And this too, as we most truly confess, in one of our Creeds, was for Us Men, and for Our Salva­tion. From whence it is most evident, that God, in all his Actions and Dispensations, hath a constant and more particular regard to Mankind, that They have a Concern in the greatest Works of Provi­dence, and that almost all God's Doings and Admini­strations are begun and ended with great Respect to Man's Advantage; and so as that the promoting of this, shall be the best and most effectual means of accommodating and reducing all things at last to himself; and Our Happiness be made the proper In­strument of His Glory.

2 Man was created Naked, as being more beautiful than all the rest; The Smoothness and Delicacy of his Skin, the nice tempering of his Humours and Complexion making a very advantagious Di­stinction in this respect, above any other Creature whatsoever.

3 The Body of Man is erect, and touches the Ground with but a very little part of it; but is set streight upright toward Heaven, where he may contemplate his Great Original, view and take Knowledge of his own Perfections, as in a Glass fitted for that purpose. The Plants are just the ve­ry Reverse of all this: Their Head and Root is bu­ried in the Ground; and there they spread, and thence they get Improvement. Brutes are in a Po­sition between these Two: But some of them ap­proach [Page 18]nearer to the One, and some nearer to the O­ther of those Extremes. As to the true Cause of this upright Figure, it is plain, the Rational Soul cannot be It: For the Crooked, the Lame, the Deform­ed, are so many living Instances, and undeniable Proofs to the Contrary: Nor can it be the Back-Bone form'd in a direct Line; for Serpents have the same: Nor is it surely the Excess of Natural and Vital Heat above other Creatures; for many other Ani­mals equal, and some excell us in this Respect; tho' I will not deny, but each of these may contribute somewhat toward it: (And that of the Serpent is the less Objection against the Form of the Back-Bone; because the Crawling of that Creature upon his Belly, is expresly declar'd to be a Punishment and lasting Reproach, for the Tempter's having assum'd this Form in working the Seducement and Ruin of our first Parents.) But the very Truth is, Our great and mighty Maker and Master thought this the most convenient Posture, and such as best agreed with the Dignity and Preeminence of Humane Nature, particularly upon two Accounts,

Partly, as a Mark of Distinction due to the Ex­cellencies of the Humane Mind: Thus the old Po­ets represented it,

And partly as an Ensign of Royalty; some Cha­racters whereof Naturalists have observ'd in some other petty Principalities; such as the Crown in the Dolphin, the Diadem in the Basilisk, the Lion's stately Mane, which serves as a Collar of Honour; the Colour and the Eyes in the Eagle, and the [Page 19]King among the Bees. But Man being vested with an universal Monarchy, walks stately upon the Earth, like a Master in his own House: He subdues and manages All either by fair means or by foul; captivates and brings them to his hand by force; or makes them tractable and tame, by gentle and winning Usage. Hence the same Poet proceeds,

4 His Body was form'd at first out of Virgin-Earth, of a Red Complexion, from whence the proper Name of Adam was deriv'd:Adom Rufus. Heb. Gen. 2.6, 7. For the com­mon Appellative of the Species in general is Ish. And This well moisten'd, was the common Materi­als of our Body. So again the Poet,

In all Reason, the Body must be before the Soul, as we naturally conceive Matter antecedent to its Form; as the House must be fram'd and fitted up, before we can suppose an Inhabitant in it; and a Shop made and furnish'd, before any Trade can be exercis'd there.

When This was prepar'd and done, the next thing in order was to animate this Body, by the Infusion of a Soul, convey'd thither by Divine Inspiration; For God, (says Moses) breathed into him the breath of [Page 20]Life, and so Man became a living Soul. Of which, what Tradition the Heathen World retain'd, may be learn'd from the same Author, who proposes This as the first probable Solution of that wonderful Pro­duction.

And closes his Account,

5 The same Order seems to be constantly observ'd in ordinary Generations, and the forming of Na­tural Births ever since: For here the Body is first formed, and That, according to the best Remarks which the Curious have been able to make, in, or somewhat near the following Method. The first seven Days are employ'd in bringing the Semi­nal Principles to a due Consistency, and perfe­cting the Conception, to which some have been apt to think Job might allude, Chap. X. v. 10. The next seven Days are taken up in Concocting, Dige­sting and Changing those first Elements into Flesh and Blood; which is as yet an unformed Mass, but the proper Ground and Matter of the Hu­mane Body. In the third Week, the Body in gross is formed, so that after some one and twenty Days the three most Noble and Useful Parts of the Body are fashion'd; the Liver, the Heart and the Brain; and These lie at length, distant from one another in a kind of oval or oblong Figure, and connected, or [Page 21]just tack'd together by some thin loose Joynings, which are afterwards sill'd up, and resemble the Form of an Ant; where you may observe Three grosser and fuller Parts, coupled and held together by Two slenderer, that lie betwixt. The fourth Week, which raises the Account to very near Thirty Days, the whole Body is perfected, and the Parts and Or­gans of it distinguishable; and from thenceforth it ceases to be an Embryo, as that denotes a rude shape­less Mass; and is now in a Condition to receive the Soul; which accordingly loses no time, but comes and takes Possession of its new Dwelling, at or before the Term of Forty Days; that is, at five or six Weeks. When this proportion of Time is dou­bl'd, namely after three Months, the Animated In­fant usually begins to move; and much about the fourth Month the Hair and Nails set forward. And after the same Term three times told; that is, after nine Months, is the usual time of Maturity, and coming into the World. These may perhaps to some seem useless Curiosities, and not altogether be­coming a Treatise of this Nature: But I must own, that I think, one great Advance towards the true and the best Wisdom, would be to understand this part of our selves; and sure Men could not but express a greater and more awful Regard of Almighty God, did they but consider whose Hands have fashion'd and finish'd them; who watch'd and brought forward their Substances when crude and imperfect; wrote their Members in his Book; and made them to be what they are, after a fearful and very wonderful Manner.

CHAP. II. The first and general Distinction of Man.

1 MAN, as if design'd to be all over Wonder, is a Creature made up of Ingredients vastly dif­ferent,First into Two Parts. nay directly opposite to one another: For what can be more so, than those two Constituent Parts, His Soul and His Body? Look upon him with regard to the former of These, and He is a sort of inferiour Deity: Turn your Eyes down to the latter, and that Person which before you almost ador'd, you will now be tempted as much to loath and despise; For what is Man thus above a Beast? What but a Load of Corruption, and a Sink of Ill-Humours? And yet, this wonderful disparity notwithstanding, these two so distant Parts are linked together with such amazing Art, and embrace each other so close and kindly, that there is at the same time eternal Quar­rels, and yet an inviolable Friendship between them. They cannot live together peaceably, and yet they cannot part contentedly: Like a Man, that hath a Wolf by the Ears, and neither knows how to hold him, nor to let him go: So is each of these Principal Parts in Man; and each may say to the o­ther what the Poet did.

2 But in regard one of these Parts admits of a Sub­division, by reason of a great and manifest Diffe­rence in the Faculties and Parts of this Soul of ours;Then into Three. the One part Noble and Pure, Intellectual and Di­vine; the Other Mean, and Sensual, and Brutish; The best and most lively Representation of Man, and the surest Method of attaining to the Know­ledge of him, seems to be the making of this first Division to consist of Three Branches; and saying, That the Constituent Parts of Man are, the Mind, the Soul, and the Flesh. Of these the Mind and the Flesh are the two distant Extremes, distant as Hea­ven and Earth are from each other; and the Soul hath a middle Station between both, like the Re­gion where all the Storms and Meteors are form'd. The Mind is the most Heroick and exalted Part; the Breath, the Beam, the Image, the Efflux of the Divinity. This in the Man is as the King in the Body Politick; its Tendencies and Motions are to Heaven and Happiness; and it breaths nothing but what is Pure, and Spiritual, and Divine. The Flesh, quite contrary, is like the Dregs of the Peo­ple, a vile and stupid, rude and Tumultuous Mob, the Sediment and Lees, the Bruitish part of Man; and this is perpetually dispos'd to Evil, and sunk into Matter. The Soul, in its middle State, like Persons of Quality in a Kingdom, below the Best, and above the Worst, is capable of inclining to Good or to Evil; and accordingly it is continual­ly sollicited on both sides with great Importunity: The Mind and the Flesh are ever struggling to win it over, and, according to the Side it takes, it be­comes either a Spiritual and Virtuous, or a Vicious and Carnal Soul. This is the Seat of all those Ap­petites and Passions implanted in us by Nature, which, consider'd simply, and in themselves, have [Page 24]neither Virtue nor Vice in them: Such, for In­stance, as Love, (that kind of it which we bear to our Friends and Relations) and Fear, such as that of Shame, Compassion for Persons in Distress, and Desire of a good Reputation.

3 This Distinction deserves the rather to be ob­serv'd, because it will assist us very much in the Knowledge of our selves, and give Men a true Idea of their Actions, which are otherwise apt to be misunderstood, by passing Judgments upon a slight and superficial View, and attributing That to the Mind, which in reality proceeds from the Soul; nay sometimes from the Flesh, and mistaking That for Virtue, which is meerly the effect of Nature, nay the instigation of Vice: For it is no breach of Charity to say, that a great many noble and brave Actions have been done in Heat and Passion, or else out of Humour, and Fancy, and natural In­clination; not so much with a design to benefit Others, as to please our Selves.

CHAP. III. Of the Humane Body, and its Constituent Parts.

1 THE Body of Man is built and put together, so as to consist of Parts vastly numerous, both Within and Without: And of These by far the greater Number, are either Round, or of a Figure not far distant from it.

2 Those Within are of Two sorts: Some dispers'd all over the Body in large Quantities, and great Numbers; as for Instance, The Bones, which are the Bases and Pillars that support this Structure: The Muscles, which are the Instruments of Strength and Motion: The Veins, which are the Channels for conveying the Blood to the Heart; and the Arteries, which like so many Pipes, feed them per­petually, by sending it from the Heart to the seve­ral parts of the Body. The Nerves, which are di­stributed by Pairs, and are the Instruments of Sense and Motion, by vertue of the Animal Spirits contain'd in, and diffus'd by them. Of These some are soft, which serve the Head, and assist Our Sight, our Hearing, our Taste, and our Speech: Others are hard, and these are laid along the Spina Dorsi, and so inserted into the Muscles; The Ten­dons, the Ligaments, and the Cartilages. There are likewise the Four Humours, the Blood; Choler, which provokes and hinders Obstructions, throws off the the Excrementitious Parts, and excites Cheerful­ness: Melancholy, which whets the Appetite, and moderates sudden Motions: Phlegm, which sweet­ens the two Humours last mention'd, (Yellow and [Page 26]Black Choler) and checks inordinate Heats. The Spirits, which are a sort of generous Fumes, eva­porated by the Natural Heat, and Radical Moi­sture; and of These there are Three Degrees of Excellency, the Natural, the Vital, and the Ani­mal. The Fat, which is the thickest and Oyliest part of the Blood.

3 Other Parts are single, and determin'd to some particular Place. Now the whole Body may be conveniently enough divided into Four Stories or Apartments, which are in a manner so many seve­ral Shops or Workhouses, wherein Nature keeps her Powers and Faculties employ'd. The First and Lowest of These is that concern'd in the pro­pagation of the Species. The Second, and next above, is the Entrails, the Bowels, and Stomach, which in Situation enclines somewhat to the Left-Side; its Form is round, streighter below than a­bove, with two Orisices, one at the Top, to re­ceive Nourishment; another at the Bottom, an­swering to the Guts, whose Business 'tis to dis­charge and empty it. This Vessel receives, col­lects, mingles, and concocts the several sorts of Nourishment taken in at our Mouths; and from thence works off a Whitish Juice call'd Chyle, pro­per for the Sustenance and Nutriment of the Body, and afterwards wrought over again more accu­rately in the Meseraick Veins, through which it pas­ses into the Liver. The Liver is hot and moist, lying somewhat more to the Right-Side. This is the proper Workhouse of the Blood, the great Source of the Veins, the Seat of the Vegetative Faculty: Here the Chyle drawn off from the Meseraick Veins is converted into Blood; which is taken into its Cavities by the Vena Porta, and discharg'd again by the Vena Cava, (which issues from the Convex part,) and its Branches, in abun­dance of Ducts, like Rivulets or Streams from a [Page 27]Fountain. In the Left-Side lies the Spleen, which receives the Discharge and Excrementitious Hu­mours of the Liver. Then follow the Reins and the Guts, which hang altogether in one Link, and, as according to the usual Proportion, the Stature of a Man is seven times as much as the length of a common Foot; so the Bowels, when drawn out, are usually seven times the length of a Man. These Two former Apartments, which some con­tract into One, (though the Offices of them are so very different, as to justifie the distinguishing them into Two) are by many Authors resembl'd to the lowest Region of the Universe; the Ele­mentary one, which is the Seat of Generation and Corruption; and here that which goes by the Name of the Concupiscible Soul, keeps its peculiar Re­sidence.

4 The Third Story is compar'd to the Aethereal Re­gion; and this is separated from the former by the Diaphragme, as it is from That still above it by the Throat: Here the Irascible Soul hath its Dwelling; and Here those parts in the Breast lie, which are termed the Praecordia; as the Heart, whose Situa­tion is much about the Fifth Rib, and its Point a little diverting towards the Left-Pap. This is ex­ceeding Hot; the common Source of all the Ar­teries, by which it distributes the Vital Blood there concocted, through the whole Body, and in that Blood the Vital Spirits: And all this by a discharge so sensible and strong, that each Evacuation creates that Motion which we call the Pulse. Here like­wise are the Lungs, a soft, rare, and spongy Sub­stance, supple and pliable in their Motions, like a pair of Bellows; and thus they become the In­struments of Respiration: By which the Heart is cool'd with fresh Air, the Blood kept in perpetual Agitation; the Fumes and Excrements that oppress it are by this means discharg'd, and the Voice for­med [Page 28]by the help of the Aspera Arteria, or Wind-Pipe.

5 The Fourth and Last Apartment, which an­swers to that highest Region, by way of Emi­nence call'd Heaven, is the Head; and this con­tains the Brain, a Substance cold and spongy, cover'd over, and wrapt up in two Membranes, One hard and thick, which touches the Skull, and is term'd the Dura Mater: The Other more gentle and thin, contiguous to the former, and known by the Name of Pia Mater. From the Brain are deriv'd all the Nerves, and that Marrow which runs all along through the Back-Bone. This Brain is the Seat of the Reasonable Soul, the Source of Sense and Motion, and of all those Noble Spirits call'd the Animal and extracted from the Vital Spirits, which when sent up through the Arteries into the Brain, are concocted, refin'd, wrought off, and subtiliz'd, by means of an infinite num­ber of small and exceeding fine Arteries, which, like so many little Threads plaited and interwoven with each other, make a sort of Labyrinth, or double Net, (the Rete Mirabile) in which the Vi­tal Spirit being kept, by perpetual Motion back­ward and forward, is exalted and refin'd, till it be­comes Animal, that is, sublimated and spirituous to the last and highest Degree.

6 The Outward Parts, and such as stand in View, are either single or double. If single, they are placed in the midst, as the Nose, which serves us in Breathing and Smelling, and conveys Comfort and Refreshment to the Brain; as it is also useful for the discharge of any Humours which happen to annoy the Head: And through this Passage the Air goes in and out, both for the Service of the Lungs below, and of the Brain above. The Mouth, which assists us in Speaking and Eating; and as the Uses of it are different, so are the Parts like­wise [Page 29]which qualifie it for those Uses. Without, there are the Lips; Within, you have the Tongue, extremely nimble in Motion, and a nice Distinguish­er of Tasts: The Teeth, to bruise and chew our Meat, and prepare it for the Stomach.

7 If the Parts of the Head be double and alike, they are plac'd collaterally, and answer exactly to each other: So do the Eyes, which, like Centinels or Spies, are posted at the top of the House, for the gaining a more advantageous Prospect: These are made up of wonderful variety; each hath Three Humours, Seven Coats, Seven Muscles, dif­ferent Colours, and are form'd with infinite Arti­fice, and inexpressible Contrivance. They are in­deed the noblest and most admirable Parts of any that appear outwardly in the Body: Their Beau­ty, their Usefulness, the Sprightliness of their Mo­tion, their strange Attractive Power in creating Love. These are to the Face what the Face is to the rest of the Body; the Life and Air of the Countenance it self: And in regard they are ex­ceeding tender, and nice, and valuable, therefore provident Nature hath cover'd and fenc'd them in very carefully on all sides, with Skins, and Lids, and Brows, and Hair. The Ears are near upon the same Level with the Eyes; these being a sort of Scouts to the Body, and Porters for the Mind; they receive, report, and distinguish Sounds, which naturally ascend upward. The Approaches and Entries of this Organ of Sense, are intricate and crooked, full of Windings and Turnings, to pre­vent the Air from rushing in too quick, and with too great Violence, by which means the Hearing might be extremely impair'd, the Organ wounded and strain'd, and the Sound more confus'd by its excessive loudness.

To all these we must add the Hands and Arms, by which all manner of Workmanship is perform'd; [Page 30]and our Legs and Feet, which like Pillars support this wonderful Edifice, and which, although not of the Trunk and main part of the Body, are yet Instruments of such universal Use, that the Body can very hardly subsist without them; and it wou'd be very ungrateful not to allow These an honourable Mention in this Account, whose Labours make Provision for the whole.

CHAP. IV.

1 THE Body of Man hath several very particular and distinguishing Qualities, which are Ex­cellencies peculiar to himself, and such as Beasts have no share at all in. The first and most re­markable seem to be these that follow: Speech, an Erect Stature, that Form and Port which hath been in so high Esteem among wise Men, nay, even with the Stoicks, the Rigidest and most Abstracted of all Philosophers, that they declar'd it more eligible to be a Fool in Human Shape, than to be Wise in the Form of a Brute; So preferring the advantage of this Frame of Ours, before even Wisdom it self, and all the Beauties of the Soul without it: The Hand, which is a Prodigy in Nature, and no other Creature, not even the Ape it self, hath any thing comparable to it; the Natural Nakedness and Smooth­ness of our Skin; Laughing and Crying; the Sense of being Tickled; the Eye-Lash upon the lower Lid of the Eye; a visible Navel; the Point of the Heart inclining toward the Left-Side; the Knee, which is said to stand forward in no other Creature what­soever; the Palpitation of the Heart; Bleeding at the Nose, which you will think very odd, when you recollect that Men carry their Heads upright, and Beasts hang theirs down toward the Ground; Blush­ing [Page 31]for Shame; Looking Pale for Fear; Multiplying at all times indifferently; not moving their Ears, which in other Animals is a signification of their inward Passions: But These are sufficiently disco­vered in Mankind by looking Red or Pale; and particular Motions of the Eyes and Nose. 2

Others, tho' they are not altogether his own, and incommunicable, yet may be styl'd Peculiar, in re­spect of the Degree, and the Advantage he hath above others which partake of them: Such are the Number of his Muscles, and vast Quantity of Hair upon his Head; the Nimbleness and wonderful Variety of Motions in his Limbs and Joynts; the great Abundance of the Brain; the Largeness of his Bladder; the Form of the Foot, so very long for­ward, and so short a Heel behind; the vast Quan­tity, the Clearness, and the Fineness of the Blood; the Easiness and Agility of the Tongue; the Multi­tude, and unspeakable Variety of his Dreams, so extremely above all other Animals, that Man a­lone deserves the Name of a Dreaming Creature; the Faculty of Sneezing: And, to be short, the in­numerable different Motions of his Eyes, and Nose, and Lips.

Some there are that have particular Countenan­ces and Looks, Gestures and Motions, which Art and Affectation have accustom'd them to; and sonle others who have these from Nature: They are particular indeed, and so distinguish them from other Men; but yet they are so Natural, that the Persons are not at all sensible of them when they do them; as leaning the Head on one side, blowing the Nose, and a hundred other such Gestures. But some again there are common to all Mankind, such as Reason and Contrivance hath nothing to do in, but they are the effect of meer Natural Impulse; as for Instance, that of put­ting our Hands before us when we are falling; [Page 32]which all do without thinking; and some do it we see at a time when they cannot think at all.

CHAP. V. Of the Advantages of the Body, &c.

1 THE Excellencies of the Body are Health, Beauty, Health pre­ferr'd. Sprightliness, Agility, Vigour, Dexterity, Gracefulness in Motion and Behaviour; but Health is infinitely above all; Health is the loveliest, the most desirable, the richest Present in the power of Nature to make: It justly challenges precedence above all Temporal Blessings and Advantages. Not only Learning and Knowledge, Wealth and Greatness, and Noble Blood, but even Wisdom it self, in the Judgment of the severest Philosophers, is inferiour to it. This is the only thing, that deserves our ut­most Endeavours, our greatest Hazards, the only one, which is worth the venturing our very Lives for the acquiring and enjoyment of it: For indeed our very Lives without it are flat and insipid, nay they are troublesome and painful; and Vertue and Wisdom languish, and decay, and die, if this do not keep them in Beauty, and Vigour, and Exer­cise. Suppose a Man of the greatest Abilities that ever Human Nature had, or is capable of, what Advantage wou'd all this be to him in a Fit of an Apoplex, or a Fever, or any other violent Di­stemper? Certainly there can be but one thing in the World more valuable, and that is Probity; for Probity is to the Soul what Health is to the Body. Now, though this be commonly the Gift of Na­ture, and the effect of an originally good Constitu­on, [Page 33]a just and proper Temperament of Humours, and fit Disposition of Parts and Vessels in the first Formation of the Body; yet no doubt can be made, but the Nourishment and Methods after­wards contribute very much to it also. The whol­somness of the Milk, and a good sound Nurse in the time of Infancy; and a regular way of Living, when Men come to their own Conduct and Ma­nagement; Sobriety and Temperance of all kinds; moderate Exercise; Appetites well govern'd, and keeping one's self from Melancholy, and all vio­lent Passion and Disorder of the Mind, do assist, preserve, confirm, and finish what Nature and Complexion at first begun. Sickness and Pain are its Opposites and Enemies, and these are the sorest, perhaps indeed (when all things are rightly con­sider'd) the Only Evils incident to Mankind: Concerning which more will be said hereafter. But both in Enjoying and Preserving this, the Brutes seem to have the better of us; for Man often ruins himself, and pays dear for his Frolicks and Excesses.

2 The next Advantage to This in Order and Dig­nity, is Beauty; Beauty. which is a very great Recommen­dation, and of mighty influence in Conversation and Society: This is the first thing that conciliates Men's Favour, and unites them to one another; and it is highly probable, that this was the first and principal Mark of Distinction, the first Considera­tion, which gave Men any Preference and Autho­rity over their Fellows. The Power and Efficacy of this Quality is indisputable; every one sees and feels it; no other Accomplishment gains more Esteem; none is so General and so Commanding in all the Affairs of Human Life. None are so Barbarous, none so Stupid or so Obstinate, as not to be smitten with it: It steps forward, and of­fers it self to publick View; it bespeaks our Fa­vour, [Page 34]prepossesses our Fancy, seduces and bribes our Judgment, makes strong and deep Impressions, and is full of Importunity, full of Authority. Socrates understood its Power full well, when he called it, a short Tyranny upon the Mind; and Plato, when he term'd it the Privilege of Nature. For a Man can hardly forbear thinking, that the Persons, to whom Nature hath been so partial in her Favours, and signaliz'd with charming and uncommon Graces, have a sort of lawful inborn Power over us, and were made to command. These, when they draw our Eyes and Observation, do insensibly attract our Hearts too, and fasten our Affections upon them, and captivate and enslave us, whether we will or no. Aristotle says, that Superiority and Go­vernment belongs to the Comely; that They com­mand our Veneration next after the Gods, as being the liveliest and fairest Copies of those Glorious Originals; and that all but the Blind must, and ought to be affected with their Excellencies. The three great Princes, Cyrus, Alexander, and Coesar, found This of mighty Importance, and made the Gracefulness of their Persons turn to good Account in their weightiest Affairs; and so did Scipio more than any of them. Handsome and Good, have a great Affinity, and both the [...]. Greek Language, and the Style of Holy Scriptures, seem to express this, by using one and the same Word, to signifie both. Several great Philosophers found their Beauty Ser­viceable, in their Study, and Acquisition of Wis­dom; and to shew, that this Recommendation is universal, it is not consined to Men only, but is valued, and of great Request, even among Brutes.

3 Now Beauty is of great Variety, and may be considered in very different Respects.Different Sorts of it That which is proper to Men, consists chiefly in a Majestick Form and goodly Stature; The other sorts of Beauty are of a softer and more Esseminate Kind; they may [Page 35]be rather called Prettinesses, and these are more pe­culiar to the Female Sex. In each of These, there is a Subdivision; One, which is a fixed and last­ing Beauty, and this consists in having the Parts well proportioned, and the Colours justly mixed; A Body not swelled nor bloated, and yet not so thin and meager neither, that the Nerves should shew themselves, or the Bones start out of the Skin; but full of Blood, and Spirits, and well in Flesh; the Muscles high and clear; the Skin smooth and soft; the Complexion fresh and ruddy. The Other is a moveable and inconstant Beauty, which may be term'd Gracefulness; and this consists in a good Air, and becoming Motions; wherein All the parts of the Body are concern'd, but the Eyes more so, than any of the rest. The former is as it were Dead, when not attended with This, for all the Life and Action is in the latter. There are also some Beauties of a more masculine, and rough, and fierce Air; and others of a softer, sweet, ten­der, and languishing Kind.

4 The Beauty and Excellence of the Body, is more peculiarly seated in the Face;Of the Face and our Measures of it are chiefly taken from thence. The loveliest Thing in the Person of a Man, is, his Soul; and in the Body of a Man, it is his Face; For this is as it were the Abstract, the Copy and Image of the Soul. It is a piece of Natural Heraldry, where all the Advantages and Coats of Pretence are distinctly Quarter'd and Blazon'd; and This, like a Scutcheon, is plac'd upon the Front of the House, that you may know whose Seat it is, and who, and of what Qua­lity the Person is, that owns and inhabits it. For the Face is an Abridgment of the whole Man; and this seems to be the Reason, why Art, which al­ways follows Nature, and treads in Her Steps, troubles it self little farther in Paintings and [Page 36]Carvings, than to give you an exact Representation of the Face from the Life; and leaves the rest of the Picture or Statue to the Artist's own Discretion.

5 Now there are several very great Niceties, Some parti­cular Pro­perties of the Face. par­ticularly observable in Humane Faces; such as may very truly be term'd Properties of the Face, since neither Brutes, nor any other part of our own Bo­dies, can pretend to the like. And indeed, for want of These, Brutes can scarce be truly said to have any Face. First, The Great Number and Variety of distinct Features, and the several Fashions of them. For those of Beasts consist of much fewer; The Cheeks, the Chin, and the Forehead, are There all in one, and not distinguished like Ours; nor have they the Figure of ours at all. Secondly, The Wonderful Diversity of Colours; for in the Eye it self, there is a mixture of Black and White, and Green, and Blue, and Red, and Crystalline. Thirdly, The Regular Symmetry of the Parts, where­by the Proportions answer to each other. And this is observable in the Organs of Sense, being double, and exactly corresponding; and in the different Relations, which the rest bear mutually, in Length and Breadth. Thus the largeness of each Eye, measuring at the Top of the Socket, gives you the Wideness of the Mouth; the Breadth of the Forehead is the same with the Length of the Nose; and that again is of the same Dimen­sion with the Lips, and the Chin below. Fourthly, The wonderful Diversity of Faces, so Nice, so asto­nishing; that among so many Millions of People, there are not two to be found exactly, and all through alike. This is such a Master-Piece, as all Nature cannot furnish such another Instance of. And this deserves a little more particular Attention; because it shews the Goodness, as well as the Power and Wisdom of our Adorable Maker, upon the [Page 37]Account of the mighty Consequence and Benefit such Variety is of to Humane Society. First, In regard it supplies us with Marks of Distinction, sufficient to know one another asunder by. For infinite and unconceivable Mischiefs must needs follow, no less indeed than utter disbanding and breaking off all Commerce and Communica­tion, if Men's Faces were so like, as to make us liable perpetually, to mistake one Person for ano­ther: A Daughter for a Wife, an Enemy for a Friend; and thus a second and worse Babel would follow. Were there no Resemblance at all indeed, then Men would not be distinguished from Brutes; but were there not some Unlikeliness too, than any one Man could not be discern'd from any other Man. And, which is yet more wonderful; Na­ture hath dealt these Differences so artificially, as to satisfie all Parties; and found out a Secret, that those who are most unlike should be highly con­tented themselves, and should please others also. For the Matter is so order'd, that there is no Per­son, but is approved, and thought very well to pass, by some body or other; and the Faces themselves do not disagree more than Peoples Fancies, and their Inclinations to several sorts of That which they call Beauty. A Fifth Quality peculiar to Hu­mane Faces, is the Dignity and Honour of them, resulting from the Oval Figure, the Streight Po­sition, the Elevation above the Body, their Dire­ction upwards to Heaven, their naked Graces, with­out any Covering of Shag, or Hair, or Feathers, or Scales, as Beasts and Birds have. A Sixth is the Air of the Face, a pleasant Agreeable Sweetness; so insinua­ting, so engaging, that (as was said before) Hearts are immediately caught, and our Wills and Affections vio­lently born away with it. In a Word, The Face is the Throne of Beauty and of Love; Seat of Smiles, and of Kisses, two things peculiar to Mankind; [Page 38]agreable and innocent, when used as Nature in­tended them, for true and affectionate Expressions of Civility, and Friendship, and Kindness, and a good Understanding between Man and Man, and once a Ceremony used in the most Solemn, Religi­ous Assemblies. Lastly, This is adapted to all manner of Changes in the Temper; it expresses all the inward Motions and Passions of the Soul. Joy and Grief, Love or Hatred, Envy and Malice, Shame and Anger, Indignation and Jealousy, and the rest of them, immediately betray them­selves here. This is like the Hand to the Watch, which tells us the Hours and the Minutes, while all the Wheels and Springs, by which those Move­ments are made, lie within and out of sight. And as the Air receives all Colours, and all Alterations of the Weather, and so lets us know what Changes are coming: So may it be said of the Countenance too.^* The Bedy (says one) both co­vers and discovers the Mind, and you may read the Man in his Face.

6 The Beauty of a Face, [...] D [...]se [...] ­ [...]tion of the Beauty [...] a [...] consists in a large, square, well spread Forchead; Clear and unclouded; even, small and fine Lyebrows; a well cut, brisk and sparkling Eye; a streight well proportion'd Nose; a little Mouth with red Lips; High full Cheeks, with a pleasant Dimple in smiling; a round com­pact Ear; and all over These a lively Complexion of good wholesome White and Red. But yet this Description is not allowed Universally; for seve­ral Nations and Climates have several Opinions of Beauty. The Indians particularly esteem That the most exquisite Beauty, which We look upon to be the greatest Desormity; a Tawny Complexion, large thick Lips, a flat wide Nose, and Teeth [Page 39]stained with Black or Red; long hanging Ears; a low hairy Forehead; vast pendulous Breasts, so large, that they may fling them over their Should­ers, and give Suck to the Children at their Backs; and these are so much in Esteem, so desirable Qua­lities, that they use all possible Art and Industry, to bring themselves to this Shape. But what need we go to the Indies, when our very next Neighbours differ so much in their Notions of the Matter? For the Spaniards think none Beauties, but the Lean and Slender; and the Italians on the other Hand prefer the the well-set, the strong, and the plump; and think there can be no such thing as Hands [...]meness without these Qualifications. And indeed in every Coun­trey some are for the soft, the weak, the tender, and the little Women; and others for the tall, the strong, the masculine, and bolder Beauties.

7 Now this outward Gracefulness of the Body, Beauty of Boly and Mind. and more particularly that of the Face, ought in all reason to be an Indication, and certain Evidence of the inward Beauties of the Soul. (And these con­sist in an Evenness of Temper, a Regularity of Opi­nions and Judgments, steadily maintain'd, and a Firmness and Constancy of Mind resulting from hence) For surely nothing is more agreeable to Nature, than the mutual Relation and Conformity of the Body and the Mind. And where this Cor­respondence and Similitude does not appear, we are to conclude, that some Accident hath unfortu­nately interpos'd, and broken the ordinary Course of Nature; as it very often happens, and is very apparent, that there does. For the Milk of a base Nurse; the First Advances in Education and In­struction, the Company they frequent, and sund [...]y other things may leave a strong Tincture behind, wor [...] mighty Changes in the Natures and Humours of Men, and give them Dispositions quite different from those they were born with, either toward Vir­tue, [Page 40]or to Vice. Socrates acknowledged, that the Deformity of his Body, testified against him for the Deformity of his Soul; and that the Evidence it gave was true; but that by Study and Pains ad­ded to a good Education, he had amended his Mind. The Air and Face of a Man is no good Rule, and very dangerous it is to depend upon it either way. But they who have an honest engaging Look, ought to suffer double Punishment, if they belye it in their Actions. For they betray and deceive Peo­ple by their fair Promises, which Nature hath writ­ten in their Foreheads, and which they themselves make so ill a Use of, as to trapan and cheat the World with them.

It were well indeed, if we would follow Socrates his Advice upon this Occasion, as all of us ought to do, in becoming more nice and attentive in ob­serving and considering curiously the Beauties of Mens Minds; and in taking the same Satisfaction in beholding those Charms, as we do in gazing upon these of the Body; And so to come up close to them, contract an Alliance, and Friendship with them; and unite our selves to them insepa­rably, by admiring, loving, imitating them with all imaginable Affection and Zeal. This were an Ob­ject worthy our Passion indeed. But alas! all People are not qualisied for it, none but Philoso­phical Eyes can behold and discover Those Graces, and none but pure and resined Souls can take De­light in the Love and Practice of them.

CHAP. VI. Of Apparel for the Body.

MAny probable Reasons may be given that may induce us to believe the way of going Naked, which is still continued in a considerable part of the World, to have been the Original, and once Universal Mode of all Mankind, how odd and singular soever it may seem to Us at this Day. The other of Cloathing seems the Effect of Art and Invention, contrived to abolish Nature upon pretence of mending it; as fantastical People shut out the Sun, and enlighten their Rooms at Mid­day with Tapers and Candles. And surely this is not so much the dictate of Necessity, as some would make us believe. For it is by no means to be imagin'd, that Nature, which hath been so Liberal in all her Provisions for every other Creature, and particularly in Point of warm and convenient Co­vering, hath dealt so much worse by Man, than all the rest, as to leave him the only indigent Child she hath, and in such Need of Help from other Hands, that he must starve and perish pre­sently, if he be not succoured, and supplied with it. This is one of the Reproaches, which fanci­ful and melancholy People cast upon Nature, when they call her a hard and cruel Step-Mother, to Man­kind; but that Charge against her is false and un­just. Upon the supposition, that Men had from the Beginning been all accustomed to Cloths, it is not easy to conceive how any Number of them should ever take up a Fancy of throwing them aside again, and going Naked; both because a Regard [Page 42]to their Health, which must needs have suffered extremely by so disadvantageous an Exchange, and a Regard to Modesty and Shame too, must in all reason have persuaded the Contrary. And yet we see, this is still the Fashion in several Nations, which is a great Presumption of its having once been the Fashion of all Mankind Naturally. For what can be alleged for the Contrary Opinion? Will you urge the Two common Reasons, that Clothes were always necessary to cover our Shame, and to defend us against the Cold? (I mention not the Heat, because it is not likely they were taken up for a Protection against That) These Arguments are plainly insufficient. Look back to the Primi­tive State of our First Ancestors, and you will find that Nature never taught them to be out of Coun­tenance at their Nakedness. The Distinctions of this Kind are of a later Date; and it was Guilt First, and then Custom, that introduced Shame. Besides, even those very Parts, which we take Pains to conceal, Nature hath been beforehand with us, in keeping out of Sight. But if we should allow this for one Reason of Cloathing, yet the Argument can only concern the Covering of these Parts. The Consequence of it cannot possibly extend to the rest, and thus we see in some Countries some Per­sons of Better Condition, do consult their own and the Beholders Modesty, without troubling them­selves for any farther Garments; though the Com­mon People in the same Places go stark naked. Some have thought it a Disparagement, that Man, who challenges a Precedence and Authority over all Things here below, should not dare to shew him­self to the World, as God Almighty made him; but though that Thought be liable to some Exce­ption, yet I think truly, it cannot be for his Ho­nour, to think himself Enrich'd with the Spoils of his Subjects; to be Proud of the Ornaments they [Page 43]furnish him with, and value himself, or disesteem others, according as he possesses, or they want these poor Advantages, (if they are sit to be call'd Ad­vantages even in the last and lowest Degree.) And yet this is a Vanity so prevailing, that, as if Rea­son cou'd not urge enough to make People asha­med of it, Religion hath interpos'd her Authority too, to forbid Affectation and Pride in tricking and setting off our Persons, and teaches us, that we shou'd never think our selves truly adorn'd, except when the virtuous and shining Qualities of the Mind render us agreeable and lovely in the Eyes of God and Man. These are the Jewels, these the Ornaments which wou'd most effectually re­pair that Shame which all our outward Dresses were so industriously contriv'd to cover.

As to that other Argument, which proceeds upon Cold, and some other things that render Ap­parel necessary, either to particular Persons of a Constitution more feeble, or to all that dwell un­der one Climate, sharper than the rest; we know full-well, that some go naked, and others drest, in the very same Latitude, and the very same Air; and there is never a one of us but exposes the ten­derest Part about him to all Weathers continually: Which gave occasion to that Reply of a sturdy Beggar, who when he was asked how he cou'd en­dure to go naked in the midst of Frost and Snow, made only this Answer, That other People cou'd bear their Faces naked, and he was Face all over. History tells us of several very great Persons who went constantly bare-headed, as Masinissa, and Caesar, and Hannibal, and Severas; And some Nations there are, who being accusiom'd to no Defence for their Bodies at other times, never trouble them­selves for any when they go into the Wars, but engage in the hottest Action, whole Armies of naked Men together. Plato thinks it adviseable for [Page 44]the Health never to cover either the Head or the Feet at all. Varro pretends, that when Men were commanded to stand bare in the Temple of the Gods, and in the Presence of the Magistrates; it was not only the Respectfulness of the Ceremony, but the Wholsomness of it, that the Law had re­gard to; since Men by this means harden'd their Bodies against the Injuries of Wind and Weather, and strengthen'd themselves, while they paid a due Reverence to their Superiours.

In a Word, abstracting from what Revelation hath taught us, and looking at Nature only, I shou'd make no doubt but the Contrivances of Hutts and Houses, and other Shelters against the Violence of the Seasons, and the Assaults of Men, was a much more ancient Institution than that of Cloath­ing; and there seems to have been more of Na­ture, and universal Practice in it; for we see that Beasts and Birds do the same thing. The Care and Provision of Victuals was unquestionably of far greater Antiquity than either of the former, for this seems to have been one of the first Impul­ses and Dictates of Nature; the Necessities and Appetites whereof return so thick upon us, that it is not easie to suppose Man cou'd subsist at all with­out this Care.Book III. In the Ver­tue of Tem­perance. But of these Matters we shall have other Opportunities to treat more fully, when we come to give Rules for the Use and Regulation both of Food and Raiment, hereafter.

CHAP. VII. Concerning the Soul in general.

WE are now entring upon a Subject of all others the most difficult and nice; One which has been treated of, and particularly can­vassed by the greatest Philosophers, and most pe­netrating Wits of all Ages and Countries: Aegyp­tian, Greek, Arabian, and Latin Authors; but yet so that their Opinions have been infinitely various, according to the several Nations from whence they sprung, the Religions they embrac'd, the Professions in which they had been educated, and the Reasons that offer'd themselves to their Thoughts: So that how far soever each Man might satisfie his own Mind, yet they have never been able to come to any general good Agreement or certain Determination in the Matter. Now the main Points in Controversie upon this occasion, are those Ten that follow: What may be the Defi­nition of the Soul; What its real Essence and Na­ture; Its Faculties and Actions; Whether there be One or More Souls in a Man; Whence its Original; What the Time and Manner of its entring the Bo­dy; the Manner of its Residence; the Seat where it dwels; the Sufficiency to exercise the several Functi­ons belonging to it; and lastly, Its End or Separation from the Body.

1 First of all: It is exceeding hard to give an ac­curate Definition of the Soul, Its Defin [...] ­tion. or be able to say exactly What it is. And this in truth is the Case of all Forms in general; and we cannot well con­ceive how it shou'd be otherwise with Things which are Relative, and have no proper and independent [Page 46]Subsistence of their own, but are only Parts of some Whole. Hence without question it hath come to pass, that the Definitions of it put abroad have been so many, and at the same time so infinitely various too, that not any one of them hath been receiv'd without Clashing or Contradiction. Ari­stotle hath rejected no less than Twelve among the Philosophers who had written before him; and yet he hath found but little better success with That of his own, which he labour'd (but in vain) to establish in the room of them.

Nothing can indeed be more easie and obvious than to determine what the Soul is not. We dare be confident that it is not Fire, Air, nor Water, nor a Mixture and due Temperament of the Four Ele­ments together, the Qualities or the Humours nice­ly adjusted: For This is a thing in perpetual Flux and Uncertainty; the Animal subsists and lives without it: And besides, This is manifestly an Ac­cident, whereas the Soul is a Substance. To this we may add, that Minerals, and several inanimate Crea­tures, have a Temperament of the Four Elements, and prime Tactile Qualities, and still continue Ina­nimate notwithstanding. Nor can the Soul be the Blood; for several Instances may be given of Ani­mated and Living Creatures, without any Blood at all belonging to them; and several Creatures die without losing one Drop of Blood. Nor is it the Principle and First Cause of Motion in us; for several Inanimate things impart Motion: So does the Loadstone to the Iron; the Amber to the Straw; Medicines, and Drugs, and Roots of Trees, when dry'd, and cut to pieces, draw and create very strong Motions. Nor is it the Act, Life, E­nergy, or Perfection, (for Aristotle's Term Eutclechia hath been interpreted in all these dissering Senses) For all this cannot be the very Essence of the Soul it self, but only the Operation and Effect of it, as Living, Seeing, and Understanding are plain and proper Actions [Page 47]of the Soul. Besides, admitting this Notion, it wou'd fol­low from thence, that the Soul were not a Substance, but an Accident only, that it could not possibly subsist without that Body, whose Act and Perfe­ction it is, any more than the Roof of a House can subsist as such, without the Building which it covers and is supported by, or a Relative without its Correlate. In a word, When we express our selves after this manner, we only declare what the Soul does, and what it is with respect to something else; but we pronounce nothing of its proper and abstracted Nature, or what it is in it self.

Now, though things are thus far clear and easie, yet when we go farther the Case alters extremely. A Man may say indeed, that the Soul is an Essen­tial Life-giving Form, which distributes this Gift as the Receiver is capable of it. To the Plant it im­parts Vegetation; to the Brute Sense, which in­cludes and contains Vegetation under it; and to Man Intellectual Life, in which both the former are imply'd, as the Greater Numbers comprehend the Less; and as in Figures, a Pentagone includes a Quadrangle, and That again a Triangle. I ra­ther choose to term this the Intellectual Life than the Rational, (which is compriz'd and understood by it, as the Less is within the Greater) and that particularly in deference to those many renown'd Philosophers, who have allow'd Reason in some Sense, and some Degree, even to the Brutes; but not Any of them have ever gone so high, as to attribute the Intelligent Faculty to Them; and there­fore I take Intellectual Life to be a more unexceptio­nable, more distinguishing Character of the Hu­mane Soul, than the other, which some have thought not entirely and peculiarly our own. The Soul in the mean while is not the Principle and Original of Life; (This, in my Judgment, is a Term due to none but the Sovereign Author of [Page 48]our Being, the Lord and Giver of Life) but it is the Internal Cause (if you please) of Life and Mo­tion, of Sense and Understanding: It moves the Body, but is not moved it self; as on the contrary, the Body is moved, but moves not; I say it moves the Body, but it moves not it self; for though Self-Motion be in some sense a Character by which we express the Freedom of the Hu­mane Will, yet, considering the depending State of a Creature, I rather forbear a Term which, in its strict and most exalted Sense, cannot, in my Apprehension, belong to any but God himself: For whatsoever moves it self thus, must be Ab­solute and Eternal; and that Power of moving the Body which the Soul hath, it hath not from it self, but from Above.

2 The next Enquiry concerns the Essence or Na­ture of the Soul, Its Nature. (the Humane one I mean; for as to That of Brutes, little doubt is to be made but this is Corporeal and Material, conceiv'd, born, and bred with Matter, and corruptible with it too) and this is no such inconsiderable Dispute as some perhaps may imagine; for some have affirm'd it to be Corporeal; others again contend as vehemently, that it is Incorporeal: Which Opinions we will beg the Reader's leave to compare a little, and how wide soever they may seem, we'll try if it be not possible to reconcile them. The Arguments which have persuaded Men to believe the Soul Corporeal, are such as follow. First, The Authority of the most Eminent Philosophers and Divines; and of the latter, no less than Tertullian, Origen, St. Basil, Gregory, Augustine, and Damascene, who all admit that the Spirits, both Good and Bad, which are entirely separated from Matter, are yet Corporeal; and if They be so who have nothing to do with Matter, how much more probable is this Notion of the Humane Soul, which is in constant Deal­ings [Page 49]with, and closely united to it? The Ground of their determining these things to be Corporeal, is a Notion, that All Creatures of what kind so­ever, when compar'd with God, are Gross, Cor­poreal, and Material; and that God Himself a­lone is so excellent a Substance as to be Incorpo­real; and therefore every Spirit is Body, and of a Corporeal Nature. To this of Authority may be added another Argument, drawn from Reason. All that is contain'd in this Finite World, must needs be Finite it self; limited in Virtue and in Essence; circumscrib'd by some Supersicies, consin'd within some place; all which are the true and natural Conditions of a bodily Substance. God alone is every where; He alone is Insinite, and therefore He alone is Incorporeal. The common Distin­ctions of a Circumscriptive, Definitive, Effective Pre­sence, seem to be meerly verbal, and to carry ve­ry little or no Force at all: For still it is undeni­ably certain,See Adver­tisements. That Spirits are in a place after such a manner, that at the same time they are there, they are not elsewhere too, nor can be in more places than one at once. They are not in Insi­nite Space, nor in extreme Little, nor extremely Large room, but take up so much as is propor­tionable to their Size, and equal to their Finite Substance. And, did not the Case stand thus with them, how cou'd Spirits change their Place and Residence? how cou'd they Ascend or De­scend, which yet the Scripture frequently takes notice of their doing? For, if Incorporeal, they must be incapable of Motion, Indivisible, and so every where indisserently. Since then 'tis evident they change their places, is not this sufficient to convince us that they are capable of Motion and Division, subject to Time, and the Successions of it, which is requisite for the adjusting of Motion, and measuring the Passages and mutual Distances [Page 50]from one place to another? All which are Quali­ties belonging to a Body. But now, in regard that the generality of People, who see not to the bot­tom of these Distinctions, by the Word Corporeal, form to themselves an Idea of something Visible and Palpable, and so gross as must affect our Sen­ses: Since they have no Notion of pure and subtle Air, nor entertain any Conception of Fire abstra­cted from Fuel and Flame; since, I say, they cannot persuade themselves that things so subtiliz'd are Corporeal, hence it hath grown into Use, to say that Spirits in a State of Separation, and Hu­mane Souls in the Body, are not Corporeal Substan­ces: Nor are they so indeed in this gross and vul­gar Sense; for they are of an Invisible Substance, whether that be Airy, as many Philosophers and Di­vines have persuaded themselves; or whether Coelestial and yet more refin'd, as some Hebrew and Arabian Authors, who call Heaven and Spirit both by the same Name, of an Essence proper to Immortality; or whether it consist of a Substance still more sub­tle and purify'd than even the Aethereal or Coele­stial it self; but still Corporeal nevertheless, since subject to all those Conditions of a Body, of be­ing consin'd and circumscrib'd within a certain Space; capable of Motion, and measurable in that Motion, by the successive Periods of Time. Again, Were they not Corporeal, they must be im­passible; for which way cou'd they suffer as we find they do? The Soul of Man manifestly receives and is assected with Satisfaction and Uneasiness, Pleasure and Pain; and as deeply as sensibly touch'd with these things in her Turn, as the Bo­dy is from Her Dictates and Her Passions. Again, She is likewise wrought upon and distinguish'd by Good and Ill Qualities, Virtues and Vices, Affe­ctions and Inclinations of all sorts; All which are Accidents; and as such require some Bodily Sub­stance [Page 51]for their Support and Subsistence. Lastly, All Souls, whether separated or united, evil An­gels and Spirits, as well as Men, are obnoxious to Punishment and Torture: From whence it must follow, that they are Corporeal; For nothing can be in a Condition of enduring Torment, which is not so; and so the Subject of Accidents is one par­ticular Property of a Bodily Substance.

See Advertisement at the End of this Chap­ter; and also That at the Conclusion of the Tenth.

3 Now the Soul abounds exceedingly in Faculties and Powers, as many almost as the Body hath Members. Its Facul­ties and Operations Some of these she exerts in Plants; a greater number yet in Beasts; but vastly more in Mankind: Such as the Vital, Locomotive, Appetitive, Attractive, Collective; the Retentive, Concocting, Digestive, Nutritive; those of Growing, Sprouting, Hearing, Seeing, Tasting, Smelling, Speaking, Respiration, Generation, Cogitation, Reasoning, Contempla­ting, Assenting, Dissenting, Remembring, Judg­ing: All which Faculties are by no means parts of the Soul; for at that rate we must admit the Soul to be capable of Division, and made up of nothing but Accidents and Properties; but they are the Na­tural Qualities and Powers of it. Upon these fol­low the Actions or Operations of the Soul, which must needs in order of Nature be after those Fa­culties that qualifie it for the performance of them. And thus the great Dionysius, whose Doctrine in this particular is universally assented to, observes, That in Spiritual Creatures there are Three things to be consider'd; The Essence, the Faculty, and the Operation. By the Last of these, which is the Action, we are led to the Knowledge of the Faculty; and from the Fa­culty again we are carry'd on to the Essence. Now we must take notice by the way, that the Actions may [Page 52]be obstructed, suspended, or a final Stop, and ab­solute Cessation put to them, without any Preju­dice at all being done by this means to the Soul, or its Faculties: As the Skill and Faculty of Paint­ing shall remain entire in the Artist, tho' his Hands be ty'd up, or he be otherwise disabled from ex­erting that Skill. But, upon a Supposal that the Faculties themselves perish, the Soul must perish with them; as the Fire can be no longer Fire, if we suppose the Faculty of Warming to be taken away from it.

4 The Nature and Essence of the Soul being thus in some measure explain'd, In Vaity. there is another Enquiry which offers it self to our Consideration, and That indeed of very great Intricacy and Importance both, which is, Whether each Animal (but more especially each Man) have a Complication of several Souls, or but One only. Concerning which a multi­tude of Arguments have been offer'd on all Sides, and great variety of Opinions have grown; but they may, I think, be reduc'd to Three. Some of the Greek Philosophers, and almost all the Arabi­an, after Their Examples, have fancied that there is but One Immortal Soul, not only in each distinct Individual Person, but in all Mankind; and distri­buted throughout the whole Species in general. The Aegyptians are in the other Extreme, and con­ceive that each Person hath several Souls totally and essentially distinct from one another. That every Brute hath Two of these, and every Man hath Three. Two of which (the Vegetative and Sensitive) are Mortal; and the Third (which is the Intellectual) Immortal. The Third Opinion lies between these Two, and as it is more moderate, so hath it like­wise been more generally entertain'd than either of the Former; for most Nations seem to be agreed, that however Men may have been oblig'd to consider the several Faculties distinctly, yet there [Page 53]is in reality no actual Plurality, and but One Soul in each Person, which extends to all those Opera­tions assign'd to several.

The First of these Opinions I shall say nothing to, thinking it too absurd, and too generally exploded, to stand in need of any particular Confutation.

The Second, which asserts a Plurality of Souls in each Animal, and particularly in each Man, must be confess'd on the one hand exceeding marvel­lous, if not altogether incredible and absurd; For what Philosophy will allow us in giving se­veral Essential Forms to one and the same thing? But then, on the other hand, it must be acknow­ledg'd too, that this Notion makes the Way fair and smooth for that of the Intellectual Soul's being Immortal: Because upon a Supposition of Three distinct Souls, there is no great Difficulty or Incon­venience in admitting that Two of these may die, without at all impairing the Immortality of the Third; Whereas the Unity of the Soul seems to make War upon its Immortality: For which way can we conceive the same Thing to be Mortal in one part, and Immortal in another? which yet seems to have been Aristotle's Notion. Certainly there is an absolute necessity of concluding, that it is All of a piece in this respect, and either en­tirely Mortal or Immortal throughout; which yet are each of them loaded with very absurd Con­sequences: For the Former Conclusion is destru­ctive of all Religion and sound Philosophy; and the Latter advances the Brutes to the same Digni­ty, the same Immortal State with our Selves. But the most general, and in my poor Judgment, the most probable Opinion is, that each Animal hath but One Soul; but One in Substance; That This is the Cause of Life, and the Universal Source of all the Actions perform'd by him; That though [Page 54]it have but One Essence entire and undivided, yet is it adorn'd, enrich'd, diversify'd with a vast num­ber of Faculties and distinct Powers, wonderfully different, and some contrary to each other; ac­cording to the vast Variety of Instruments made use of by it, the Vessels in which they are con­tain'd, and the Objects they are employ'd about; Thus the Soul exercises what we call the Sensitive and Reasonable Faculties more peculiarly in the Brain; there being the Instruments adapted to such Operations: The Vital and Irascible in the Heart; the Natural and Vegetative, (which are sometimes distinguish'd by the Concupiscible) in the Liver: These are the Chief and most Material Distincti­ons. But these so many, and so different Operati­ons, Instruments, and Faculties, no more impair the Unity of the Soul, or argue a Plurality of Cau­ses, than a Multitude of Streams conclude against One Fountain or common Source; or the diffe­rent Effects of the Sun-Beams prove more Suns than One in the Universe: For thus we daily see he sheds his Rays, and shines upon different Places and Objects with very different Success: To One he administers Heat; to Another Light: The Wax he softens and melts; the Clay he dries and stif­fens: He makes the Snow Whiter, and the Com­plexion Blacker: He scatters the Clouds, and contracts the standing Pools. And if all this be done by One Sun in the Firmament, what shou'd hinder the Former to be effected by One Soul in the Body? Why shou'd That be admitted for an Argument against the Essential Unity of the Cause in One of these Instances, which we our selves are content to allow, and constant Expe­rience makes it plain beyond all Contradiction, is of no weight at all in a Case so very parallel as This I have last mention'd.

As to the other Difficulty, which relates to the Soul's Immortality, when the Matter is carefully con­sidered, it will appear, that this Opinion of the Unity of the Humane Soul, does it no manner of Injury. For this Soul does not suffer in its proper Essence, by the Death of the Vegetative and Sensi­tive Faculties; by which Death in Reality is meant no more, than an Incapacity of exercising, and exerting those Powers in a State of Separation from the Body. Which must necessarily follow, upon the Want and Absence of the Proper Subject, and Instrument, to exercise them upon. But all this hinders not, but that the Third and most exal­ted, which is the Intellectual Faculty, may still exert it self; because a Body, though at present it be made use of as its Instrument, is not yet so necessary and essential to that, that it should not be able to sub­sist and act without it. Supposing then this Soul to return to the Body a second time, it would return at the same time to the Exercise of its Vegetative and Sensitive Powers, as we see plainly by Instan­ces of Persons, who have been raised from the Dead, to live here below: But this would not infer a Necessity of the same things for living in another State. For those Faculties, whose Exercise supports this Life we now lead, are not thereby proved of such Consequence, that no other kind of Life could be supported or enjoyed without them. It is in this Case with the Soul, as with the Sun (for the same Instance will be of Use to illustrate our Argument in this Branch also) which continues the same in himself, every whit as entire and unblemished, not in any Degree enfeebled, though his Lustre and Vital Influences be sometimes inter­cepted and obstructed. When his Face is cover'd with a Total Eclipse, we lose the cheerful Light and cherishing Heat; but though no sensible Effects of [Page 56]him appear, yet he is in his own Nature, the same Powerful Principle, and Glorious Creature still.

5 Having thus (as I hope sufficiently) evidenced the Unity of the Soul, Its Origine in each Individual animated by it: let us in the next Place proceed to observe from whence it is deriv'd, and how it makes its Entry into the Body.

Concerning the Former of these Particulars, great Disputes have been maintained, by Philoso­phers and Divines of all Ages. Concerning the Origine of the Humane and Intellectual Soul, I mean; for as to the Vegetative and Sensitive attributed to Plants and Beasts, those by general Consent have been esteemed to consist intirely of Matter, to be transferred with the Seminal Principles, and accord­ingly subject to Corruption and Death. So that the whole Controversy turns upon the single Point of the Humane Soul; and concerning this, the Four most Celebrated Opinions have been these which follow. I omit the Mention of any more, which are almost lost in the Crowd, because These have obtained so much more generally, and gained greater Credit than the Rest.

The First of these is that Notion of the Stoicks, embraced by Philo the Jew, and after Him, by the Manichees, Priscillianists, and others. This maintains Reasonable Souls to be so many Extracts, and ge­nuine Productions of the Divine Spirit; Partakers of the very same Nature and Substance with Al­mighty God himself; who being said expresly to have breathed it into the Body; these Persons have taken the Advantage of Moses's Words, and fixed the sublimest Sense imaginable upon them. He Breathed into him the Breath of Life; by which they are not content to understand, that the Soul of Man is a distinct Thing, and of a different, and more ex­alted Original than the Body; a Spirit of greater [Page 57]Excellence than that which quickens any other Animal, but they stretch it to a Communication of God's own Essence.

The Second was deriv'd from Aristotle, receiv'd by Tertullian, Apollinaris, the Sect of the Luciferians, and some other Christians; and This asserts the Soul to be derived from our Parents, as the Body is; and in the same Manner, and from the same Princi­ples with that, whence the Soul of Brutes, and all that are confin'd to Sense and Vegetation only, are generally believ'd to spring.

The Third is that of the Pythagoreans and Plato­nists; entertained by most of the Rabbinical Philo­sophers and Jewish Doctors; and after them by Origen, and some other Christian Doctors too; Which pretends that all Souls were created by God at the beginning of the World; that they were then by Him commanded, and made out of No­thing; that they are reserv'd and deposited in some of the Heavenly Regions; and afterwards, as his Infinite Wisdom sees Occasion, sent down hither into Bodies ready fitted for, and disposed to enter­tain them. Upon this Opinion was built another, of Souls being well or ill dealt with here below, and lodged in sound and healthful, or else in fee­ble and sickly Bodies, according to their Good or Ill Behaviour in a State and Region above, antece­dent to their being thus Incorporated with these Mortal and Fleshly Tabernacles. How generally this Notion prevail'd, we have a notable Hint from that great Master of Wisdom, who gives this Account of his large improvements,Wisd. VIII. 19, 20. above the common Rate of Men, I was a Witty Child, and had a good Spirit; yea, rather being Good, I came into a Body undefiled. Thus intimating a Priority of Time, as well as of Order and Dignity in the Soul, and that its good Dispositions qualified it for a Body so dis­posed too.

The Fourth, which hath met with the most ge­neral Approbation, among Christians Especially, holds that the Soul is created by God, infus'd in­to a Body prepared duly for its Reception: That it hath no Pre-existence in any separate State, or former Vehicle, but that its Creation and Infusion are both of the same Date.

These Four Opinions, are all of them Affirma­tive. There is yet a Fifth, more modest and re­serv'd than any of the former. This undertakes not to determine Positively one way or other; but is content Ingenuously to confess its own Ignorance and Uncertainty: declares this a Matter of very abstruse Speculation, a dark and deep Mystery, which God hath not thought fit particularly to reveal; and which Man by the Strength, and Pe­netration of his own Reason, can know but very little or nothing of. Of this Opinion we find St. Augustine, St. Gregory of Nice, and some others. But though they presume not so far, as to give any definitive Sentence, on any Side; yet they plain­ly incline to think, that, of the Four Opinions here mention'd; the Two latter carry a greater Appear­ance of Truth, than the Two former.

6 But how, The En­trance into the Body. and when this Humane Soul (for of the Brutal there is little or no Dispute, nor is the pre­sent Enquiry concerned in it) Whether This, I say, make its Entrance all at once, or whe­ther the Approaches are gradual and slow; Whe­ther it attain its just Essential Perfections in an Instant; or whether it grow up to them, by Time and Succession; is another very great Question. The More general Opinion, which seems to have come from Aristotle, is, That the Vegetative and Sen­sitive Soul, whose Essence is no other than Matter and Body, is in the Principles of Generation; that it descends lineally, and is derived to us from the Substance of our Parents; that This is finished and [Page 59]Perfected in Time and by Degrees, and Nature acts in this Case a little like Art, when That undertakes to form the Image of a Man; where first the Out-Lines and rude Sketches are drawn; then the Features specified; yet These, not of his whole Body at once, but first the Painter finishes the Head, then the Neck, after that the Breast, the Legs and so on, till he have drawn the whole Length. Thus the Vegetative and Sensitive Soul (they tell you) forms the Body in the Womb: and when That is finished, and made fit for the Reception of its new Inhabitant, the Intellectual Soul comes from abroad, and takes Possession of its Dwelling. But that (all this notwithstanding) They are not Two, nor Three distinct Souls, neither together, nor in Succession. That the Vegetative suffers no Diminution by the Accession of the Sensitive; nor that again by the Addition of the Intelligent Mind. But all Those coalesce into One, and are form'd and finished, according to the stated Times, and usual Process of Nature.

Others rather incline to believe, that the Soul enters the Body entire, and takes Possession with her Faculties of every kind at the same Instant: That This is done, when all the Organs of the Body are framed, and the whole Shell finished and com­pacted: that till Then, the Body is only a sense­less dead Mass, without any Soul at all: that it had only a Virtue or Natural Energy, (The Essen­tial Form of that Matter out of which it is made) and this acting upon the Spirituous Parts, does, by the Agitation and Ferment These are put into, form and build the whole Body, and adjust every Part of this Structure duly. When things are brought to this Head, then that Energy vanishes, and is quite lost, and the Soul succeeds into its Place. And when this New, this Noble Guest arrives, all things change their Form; and [Page 60]That, which before was nothing but Dead Sense­less Matter, exalts its Name and Nature, and from thenceforth commences Man.

7 When it hath actually entred the Body, we shall do well to know after what Manner it exists,Its Resi­dence and the manner of it. and dwells in it. Some Philosophers, whose Notions of this Matter seem to have been much perlex'd, and at a mighty Loss, how to make out any to­lerable Conjunction between these Two, have ima­gin'd the Soul to reside in the Body, like a Master in his House, or the Pilot in a Ship. But though, as to the Governing and Directing Part, the Com­parison be not much amiss; yet when applied to explain the particular Mode of its Existence, it is absolutely improper, and stark naught. For at this rate the Soul would not be the Form, the Internal or Essential Part of the Animal or the Man: It would have no Occasion for the Members of this Body to give it reception; would not be affected in any kind from this close Affinity, nor have any of those tender and mutual Resentments and Sufferings, arising from Bodily Pains and Plea­sures; but would be a Substance entirely distinct: subsisting from and by it self; at its own dispo­sal to go or come to separate from the Body, with­out making any Difference in it; or any way taking from its own Functions, or the Exercise of them. All which are intolerable and most notorious Ab­surdities. The Soul then in the Body, is like Form in Matter, dispersed and extended over every Part of it: Giving Life, Motion, and Sense, all thorough; and both These taken together, make one Person or Hypostasis; that is, one entire Subject, which we call an Animal. Nor are we to be Solicitous for the finding out any intermediate Quality, which should connect these Two; for there is no such thing in Nature. All Philosophers consenting in This, That there can nothing come between Matter [Page 61]and Form, no Common Link or Band more inti­mate for them. The Soul then is all in all the Body; but as for what is commonly added, of its being all in every Part too, I forbear the Ex­pression; because, in my Apprehension, it divides the Soul, and implies a Contradiction.

8 Now, The Seat of the Soul. although the Soul (in Agreement to what we have but just now asserted) be really commu­nicated and diffused, through the whole Body in general; yet it must be acknowledged, that she is more Eminently present and powerful, in some Parts than others. Where, for the Sake of a clearer and more visible Exercise of her Respective Faculties, she may be said to keep her Residence, or have her Seat; though not to Be Entirely there; because This would import Confinement; and the other Parts, upon the Account of her Absence, would be left void of all Soul and Form. In regard therefore that the Soul is Remarkable for the Exercise of Four Predominant Faculties above the Rest; Four Prin­cipal Places of Action and Residence have ac­cordingly been assigned to her. Now these are the Four distinct Apartments or Work-Houses, taken Notice of formerly, when we had occasion to treat of the Fabrick and Contexture of the Humane Bo­dy. These are the most Important and Prime In­struments of the Soul; the Rest are subordinate too, and reducible under them, as the other Fa­culties are likewise to those exercised in these Parts. Namely, the Continuation of the Species in the lowest Region: The Natural or Nutritive Faculty in the Liver: The Vital in the Heart; and the Ani­mal and Intellectual in the Brain.

9 The next Advance to be made upon this Sub­ject, Its Suffici­ency. concerns the Exercise of these Faculties in ge­ral, and how the Soul is qualified for this Purpose. Now we shall do well to take Notice that the very Nature and Form of every living Creature, cosist­ing [Page 62]in This Soul, it cannot be, but the Soul must be abundantly provided with necessary Knowledge, and understand its Business, without Pains or In­dustry, or the slow and laborious Methods of ac­quired Instruction. As certain is it too, that what she is thus instructed in by Nature, she fails not to exert, and punctually to fulfil, as Need requires. Provided no Accidental Obstruction prevent or in­terrupt her, and that the Instrument she is obliged to make Use of, be rightly disposed to follow her Di­rections. The Philosophers therefore were much in the Right, when they stiled Nature a Wise, Skilful, and Industrious School-Mistress: One that qualifies her Children and Scholars for all that is required from them.^* The Seeds of all Art and Virtue (says one of them) are implanted in us Originally; and Almighty God, the Great Master, brings forward our Natural Abilities, and draws them forth into Action. It were easy to prove this, by pregnant Instances of every Kind. The Vegetative Soul of its own Accord, without Artifice or Institution, forms the Embryo in the Womb, so curiously, so conveniently, so wonderfully, that we can never sufficiently express, and extol the Excellence of this Skill. Afterwards it takes equal Care of the Nourishment and Growth; conveys, seeks, and receives Sustenance; Retains what is eaten; digests and lives upon it; throws off the Superfluous and Excremental Parts; Refreshes, recruits, repairs those Parts which sink or faint, or fall to decay. And These are all of them Opera­tions Manifest and Constant, not in Men only, but in Brutes and Plants also.

The Sensitive Soul in like manner, of her own Accord puts Men and Brutes upon all necessary Actions. Such as Moving their Feet, their Hands, [Page 63]and Other Limbs and Parts, which may be of use to them, to scratch, to rub, to shake themselves, to suck, to manage their Lips and Mouth, to cry, to laugh, and other Expressions of Want, and Grief, and Pleasure.

The Reasonable and Intellectual Soul does the very same thing in Its Capacity: And Thus it acts not by virtue of any Reminiscence, or Recollection of any Knowledge it had before with this Union with the Body, as Plato fondly imagin'd; a Noti­on which proceeds upon the supposal of another State, in which the Soul pre-existed before its En­trance into, or the Formation of this Body; Nor does it owe this Power to Knowledge receiv'd in at the Senses, and acquir'd by Their means upon Use and Observation, as Aristotle conceives, who represents the Soul at the Birth, to be a Perfect Blank, utterly void of all Characters or Images, but ready to receive Impressions of any kind: But it seems rather to discharge this Office by the Original Strength of its own Native Powers: It Imagines, Understands, Retains, Argues, Rea­sons, Concludes of it self, without any Instruction or additional Helps at all. This Assertion, I must own, seems more difficult to comprehend than the Former; and we can more readily assent to such a Native Aptitude in the Vegetative and Sensitive, than we do in the Intellectual Soul. It is manifest too, that Aristotle's Authority lies in some De­gree against the Thing: And therefore to satisfie all these Difficulties, I will allow this Matter a more particular Consideration, when we come to discourse of the Intellectual Soul distinctly.

10 There remains yet one Point more concerning the Soul to be enquir'd into, Its Separa­tion Twofold Natural which relates to its Separation from the Body: Now This may hap­pen different ways, and be of sundry kinds. The only Usual and Natural Separation is by Death. [Page 64]Only herein is a mighty difference between Other Animals and Mankind, that when the Rest die, their Soul dies too; agreeably to that Rule in Phi­losophy, That when the Subject-Matter is corrupted, the Form is perfectly lost, though the Matter still remain. Whereas the Soul of Man is indeed separa­ted from his Body by Death, but by no means lost or annihilated: So far from Perishing, that it re­mains entire and unhurt, as having the Privilege of an Immortal and Incorruptible Nature.

There is not in the World any One Opinion which hath been more universally entertain'd, more eagerly embrac'd, more plausibly defended, more religiously stuck to (I may well say Reli­giously, since this Doctrine is in truth the very Foundation of all Religion) than That which as­serts the Immortality of the Soul. All this now is meant of an External and Publick Profession; for, alas! it is but too manifest and too melancho­ly a Truth; (and the prodigious numbers of disso­lute Epicures, abandon'd Libertines, and prophane Scoffers at God and a Future State, bear Testimony to it;) That what Pretence soever the Generality of the World may make of receiving this Doctrine in Words and Speculation, there are but very few who express an inward Sense, and serious Belief of it, by living like Men that believe it indeed. Of that practical Assent, I shall take occasion to speak more largely hereafter. In the mean while, give me leave to lament, that so little and so poor Effects appear, of an Opinion capable of produ­cing so many and so noble: For certainly there is not any one Point whatsoever, the Persuasion whereof can bring greater Benefit, or have a strong­er Influence upon Mankind. It may be objected, I confess, that all the Arguments which Humane Discourse, and meer Natural Reason endeavour to establish it by, cannot amount to a Demon­stration. [Page 65]But it must be confess'd, that there are several other things, which Men are content to yield their Credit to, upon far more weak and insufficient Suggestions. And whereinsover Reason falls short, it is abundantly supply'd by Revelation; which as it is the Best, so is it the Proper Evi­dence in Matters of this kind. But yet to shew the Importance of this Doctrine, even Nature herself hath implanted in all Mankind a strong Inclination to think it true: For it is natural for us to desire the legthening out, nay the perpetua­ting our own Existence. And no Reflection is more uneasie, than That which attempts to per­suade us that we must once cease to be. This Dis­position is interwoven with our very Frame; and hath given Birth to another no less general than it self, which is That anxious Care, and impatient Regard for Posterity, that takes such fast hold on every Man of us.

Nor wou'd I be so far misunderstood, as to have it thought, that this Disposition of Mind is the on­ly Humane Foundation upon which our Belief of the Soul's Immortality stands: For there are Two o­ther Moral Arguments in particular, which give it great Credit, and, to say the very least of the Case, render it exceeding probable.

The First is, that Hope of Glory and Reputa­tion, and the tender Care of preserving a Good Name when we are gone; nay, the Thought and Endeavour that our Fame shou'd be Immor­tal. Now though I cannot but condemn this sol­licitude of Vanity, when Men pretend to place their Happiness in the Opinions of other People af­ter themselves are dead; yet the marvellous Regard, and universal Concern Mankind express for it, seems to say, that Nature inspires those Desires and Expectations. And Nature, we know, is a Wise [Page 66]Agent, and does not use to cheat Men with Hopes, which are altogether impossible and vain.

Another Reason, not easie to be got over by Them who oppose this Doctrine, is, That common Im­pression that Those Crimes which are committed in secret, or which otherwise escape the Observa­tion and Punishment of Civil Justice, and the Ven­geance of Man, are still reserv'd to a farther Rec­koning; that Almighty God supplies the Defects of Temporal Judicatures, and hath a severe Judg­ment in store for such Offenders as Those cannot extend to. And since we find by frequent In­stances, that many Enormities of this kind are not made the Marks of the Divine Vengeance in The Present World; it is a good Consequence of all the Idea's we can reasonably entertain of God, that He shou'd pursue the Guilty Wretches into another World, and chastise them as they deserve, even after Death. And now I wou'd be glad to know, what greater Moral Assurance can be ex­pected for a Subject of this kind, than, that Hu­mane Nature disposes every Man to look for­ward to it, to desire, and to think it probable; and that the Consideration of the Divine Justice, represents it as a thing not only greatly probable, but absolutely necessary.

This last Reflexion will lead us to the Discovery of Three different Kinds and Degrees of Souls; all which become proper Objects of the Divine Ju­stice: Nor need we credit it upon that Account only, but even Natural Reason, the Order and Harmony of the Universe will persuade us, that such a sort of Being, and so Immortal as we have been describing the Humane Soul, is requisite to make the Series of the Creation Beautiful and Complete. Of these Three sorts we may observe that Two are in Extremes: The One consisting of [Page 67]such Souls as are gross; sunk down, immerst in, in­separable from, and compounded of meer Matter: Such are the Souls of Brutes. The Other quite contrary, such as have no manner of Communi­cation with Matter and Body, as Angels, and Im­mortal Spirits, whether Good or Bad. In the midst, and between these two, is the Humane Soul; and this is neither entirely and necessarily confin'd and fasten'd to Matter, nor entirely separated from it, but joyn'd and wedded to it in this present State; yet so, that its Divorce is not its Destruction, but it can subsist and live without Matter in Another State.

Such an Order and Distinction as This, is no despicable Argument for the Immortality of the Soul, since otherwise we must suppose a wide Gap, a vast Defect, and foul Deformity in Nature, such as carries Absurdity in it self, casts a Reflexion upon its Author, and threatens Ruine to the World. Which is supported by nothing more than by the Gradual and Contiguous Order and Succession of the Creatures: And therefore between Distances so wide as altogether Corruptible, and absolutely Incorruptible, Nature requires some middle Conditi­on of a Substance, partly the One, and partly the Other. Such a Link as this is necessary to tye the two Ends of this Chain together; and such a Link can be no other Creature than Man: For if we carry our Thoughts farther, we shall find that Other Beings are without the Compass of this Length, and so there are Five Stages of Beings in all. One below the meanest, and even those Souls which are said to consist entirely of Matter, such as Stones, which we cannot say have any Soul at all. Another far above even the most exalted, the most pure, and immortal Souls; which is the Ever-Blessed and Eternal Spirit, the Great and Only God.

2 But besides the Separation of the Soul already treated of, Separation Unnatural. there is Another Unnatural and Un­common One; and this happens by Fits and Starts, is out of the way, and consequently very intri­cate, and hard to give our selves any tolerable Ac­count of: Such I mean as comes upon Men in Extasies and Raptures, which, as they differ very much in their Symptoms and Circumstances, so do they likewise in their Causes and Occasions. Of these some are Divine Extasies, wrought by the express and immediate Operation of God: Such are those Trances which the Scripture takes no­tice of, in Araham, Daniel, Ezechiel, Zacharias, St. Peter, and St. Paul. Others are Daemoniacal, procur'd by the Interposition of Good or Evil Spi­rits, many whereof are mention'd in Story: And we are told of John Duns-Scotus in particular, that ha­ving lain a long time in a Trance, and being taken for dead, he was carry'd to be bury'd, and put into his Grave; but being rouz'd with the Blows and Bruises of the Mould thrown upon him, he came to himself, and was taken up again; and in a few Days after dy'd in good earnest, with the loss of Blood, and the Bruises he had recei­ved upon his Head. Cardan mentions somewhat of this Nature, with which both Himself and his Father were possessed. And many Creditable Au­thentick Relations have been made from several distant parts of the World, of abundance of Peo­ple, most of them of the Vulgar sort, too weak and ignorant to contrive such Stories; and of Wo­men possessed, whose Bodies have not only con­tinu'd long without any Sense, or Motion, or Pulse, but have been cut, bruised, burnt, without ever feeing it, and afterwards when they came to themselves, they have complain'd of intolerable Torture, and exquisite Pain, and have given very strange Accounts of what they have seen and done in places a great way off.

A Third Separation there is, which we may call Humane, because proceeding from Humane Means, and such as no Superiour or Invisible Power seems to be concern'd in: This comes either from that Disease which from Hippoerates is call'd Morbus Sacer, but commonly known by the Name of the Falling-Sickness, (attended with Foamings at the Mouth, which are lookt upon as the Mark and Character of it, and distinguish this Distemper from Possessions, in which the Patients are said to have none of these Frothings, but a very noi­some Stench in the room of them:) Or this Sepa­ration may be owing to the Force of Stupifying and Sleeping Medicines: Or to the Strength of Ima­gination, which being vehemently intent upon some One thing, perfectly carries away the Soul, and renders it stupid and insensible to all other Ob­jects besides.

Now in these Three kinds of Extasie and Tran­sport, whether Divine, Daemoniacal, or Humane, the great Doubt arising is, Whether the Soul be really and truly separated from the Body; or whe­ther, without any such Separation, it still continue there, but be so entirely taken up with some Ex­ternal Object, as perfectly to forget the Body be­longing to it: So that its Natural Operations, and the Exercise of its proper Offices and Vo­cation, are, during that time, suspended, and wholly superseded.

As to Divine Extasies; The Apostle speaking of Himself, and what happen'd in his own Case,2 Cor. 11. will not presume to define any thing: * Whether in the Body, or out of the Body I cannot tell, (says he) God knoweth. And this Caution of His, is methinks a good Warning to all other People, that They too shou'd be modest and reserv'd, and not rash in determining any thing positively, not only in These, but even in less Abstractions of the Mind.

As to the Second Case, That of Demoniacks, Their having no sense of great Blows, and exqui­site Tortures, and reporting things transacted at Two or Three Hundred Leagues distance; these, I con­fess are great Conjectures, and very violent Pre­sumptions of an actual Separation; but yet, I think, they are not conclusive and necessary Argu­ments for it: For the Devils may amuse the Soul, and keep it so fully employ'd even when at home, that it shall have no Commerce or Communica­tion with the Body for some considerable time; and at the very same time too he may represent to the Imagination what passes at a great distance, in so lively and clear a manner, as to fool the Man with a Persuasion, that he hath really been there, and seen those very things which the Ima­ges thus strongly imprinted upon his Fancy, have enabled him so particularly to relate. How far the Activity of Evil or Good Spirits extends, is not possible for us to say. But it is a very bold Assertion, and what Nature will very hardly en­dure, that the Whole Soul, formally taken, goes out, and abandons the Body; for upon these Terms the Body must die to all Intents and Pur­poses: And such Mens coming to themselves a­gain, wou'd not be a Recovery of their Senses, but a Resurrection from the Dead. And yet to say, That the Soul does not All go, but the Imagina­tive and Intellectual Faculties rove aboad, while the Vegetative stay behind and keep House, is still more Monstrous and Absurd: For at this rate, the Soul, which is entire, and One in her Essence, wou'd be divided; or else we must suppose the Accident only to be transported and born away, and the Substance to remain fixed in its proper place; and therefore we have reason to admit any other Solution of the Case, rather than that of an Actual Separation.

As to the Third and Last sort, which was term'd Humane, the Thing is clear beyond a Doubt, that there is no real Separation in it, since all that can be pretended to in this Case, amounts to no more than some present Stupefaction and Disorder, by means whereof such of the Soul's Operations as are Visible and External, cease in appearance, and are suspended for some time.

What becomes of this Soul, and in what State or Condition she continues after that Real and Natu­ral Separation made by Death, Wise Men have not been able to agree; nor does this Point fall proper­ly within the Compass and Design of the present Treatise. The Transmigration of Souls, advanced by Pythagoras, hath found (in some parts of the Notion especially) tolerable good acceptance with the Stoicks, the Academicks, the Aegyptian Philoso­phers, and some others. Not that they all admit­ted it in the same Sense and Extent, or to all the Purposes he intended it shou'd serve: Some allow­ed it only so far as it might contribute to the Pu­nishment of Wicked Men, who might suffer by being turn'd into Brutes, in a manner like that miraculous Infliction upon Nebuchadnezzar, Dan. iv. as a Scourge from God for his Vanity and Atheistical Pride. Some again, and those of considerable E­minence and Authority, have imagin'd, that Pure and Pious Souls, upon their quitting this Body, are translated into Angels; and the Black and Guilty ones transform'd into Fiends and Devils. Methinks it were more prudent to soften the former Branch of this Notion, as our Blessed Saviour hath done already, by saying,Luke xx. That they neither marry nor die any more, but are as the Angels, and are the Chil­dren of God. Some again have fancied, that the Souls of the wickedest and most profligate Wretch­es, after a very long Term of Time and Punish­ment, utterly perish, and are reduc'd to their First [Page 72]Nothing. But Humane Reason is, and must needs be for ever, in the Dark about all such Matters. And therefore these Disquisitions shou'd be con­stantly referr'd to their proper Topick of Instructi­on: For, as nothing but Revelation and Religion can inform us truly in what concerns a Future State, so they have not been wanting to declare what is full and sufficient for our purpose, and therefore it is our Duty, as well as our Wisdom, to receive this without more ado, and stedfastly to rest in it.

CHAP. VIII. Of the Soul in Particular; and First, of the Vegetative Faculty.

HAving thus given a General Description of the Soul in the Ten Points already insisted on, I come in the next Place to treat of it somewhat more distinctly; by considering its respective Prin­cipal Faculties apart. And the most convenient Order, as I apprehend, will be to begin with the Lowest first, and so proceed from the Vegetative to the Sensitive, from thence to that of Imagination and Appetite, and last of all to the Intellectual, which is the Supreme of all the Faculties, and that which is the true and peculiar Character of the Humane [Page 75]Soul. Under each of These, there are several sub­ordinate Powers, of less Note and Figure, which hold, as Branches of, or Deputies under those, and will fall in naturally to be mentioned, in the Profecution of that Method I have here pro­posed.

As for That, which concerns Vegetation, it is the meanest by much, and given us in common with the very Plants. I shall therefore say but very lit­tle of it, not only because the subject is not of Dig­nity enough to bear me out in long Enlargements; but also because this is more properly the Busi­ness of Physicians, whose Profession leads to the Study of Health and Sickness, the Preservatives of the One, and the Remedies against the Other. I shall only call upon my Reader at present to ob­serve, that under this Faculty, there are Three Great and very Important Subalterns concerned, and each of them subsequent and assisting to each other in a regular Progression. For the First pro­motes the Second, and the Second the Third: but not so, as that the Order can be inverted, and the Remark hold back again.

The First of these is the Nutritive; Instituted for the Preservation of the Individual; and under This there are several Assistants, such as the Attractive or seeking of Necessary Sustenance; that of Con­coction and Digestion, which separates the good and useful Parts, from those which are noxious and naughty: The Retentive for what is necessary, and the Expulsive, to throw off what is offensive or superfluous.

The Second is that of Growing, which tends to the Perfection of the Individual, and giving it all its just Proportions.

The Third is the Generative; for the Continuance and Succession of the Species.

From hence now it is plain, that the Two for­mer of these were instituted by Nature, for the Sake and Benefit of the Individual; and terminate in the Advantage of one single Person, and his own Body. The Third extends to the Species in general, and its Effects do not, cannot center in the Person himself; and therefore This, as more Extensive and Beneficial, is esteem'd superiour in Dignity, to the other Two; and advancing nearer to That Fa­culty next above it, which is the Sensitive. For Pro­ducing ones own Likeness, is a very Eminent Per­fection in Nature, and gives us the Honour of some distant Resemblances, even to the Great Cre­atour himself.

CHAP. IX. Of the Sensitive Faculty.

THE Exercise of this Faculty, or the Ope­rations of Sense, require the Concurrence of no less than Six several things; Four within, and Two without the Body. And they are These which follow.

• I. The First, is the Soul: This is the Prime Effici­ent Cause of Perception.
• II. The Second is the Faculty of Sensation, (which I distinguish here from the Former, having already proved, that it is only a Quality of the Soul, and not the very Essence, or Soul it self.) This con­sists in the Perception, and Apprehending of Ex­ternal Objects: Which may be done Five several Ways; for which Reason, we are commonly said to have Five Senses. Concerning that Number I shall say something in the next Chapter; in the [Page 77]mean while my Reader need scarce be told that these Senses are call'd, Hearing, Seeing, Smelling, Tasting, and Feeling.
• III. The Third thing necessary is the Bodily In­strument, or Organ of Sense; and these are propor­tionably Five too: The Eye for Sight; The Ear for Hearing; The Cavity at the Top of the Nose (which goes into the first Ventricle of the Brain) for smelling: The Tongue for Tasting, and the Skin all over the Body for that of the Touch, or Feel­ing.
• IV. The Fourth Requisite is that Animal Spirit, derived from the Brain, (which is the Origine and Seat of the Sensitive Soul) and conveighed through the Nerves, to these several Organs: by the Moti­on and Mediation of which Spirit, and Organ, the Soul exercises her Faculty.
• V. The Fifth is, what the Philosophers were used to call the Species Sensibilis, which is in plain English, the Object which moves, and affects, or is pro­pounded to the Organ: and This is of a different kind, according to the different Sense excited, or applyed to by it. That of Sight, or the Eye (ac­cording to the commonly received Opinion,) is Colour; A Quality or Accident inherent in the Bo­dy coloured. Six of these are Styled Simple Co­lours, as White, Yellow, Red, Purple, Green, and Blue: To which some add Black, and call them Seven. But, strictly speaking, Black is not any Colour, but only a Privation of Light, resembling Darkness; as other Colours do more or less resemble Light: The Number of Compounded Colours is infinite. And indeed if we go to the Philosophical Nicety of the Thing, there is no Colour at all in any Bo­dy, whatsoever; for This is nothing else in Truth but the various Representation, which Light diffe­rently modified makes upon our Senses. For when the Light is gone, all Colour is gone with it, and [Page 78]as this never appears without some Colour, so it never disappears, so as to leave Colour behind.

Now Light is a Quality proceeding from a Lu­minous Body, which creates in us a Perception and Sight of it self, and of all things else within our View. When this terminates upon, and is stopp'd by any solid Body, it rebounds back again, and doubles its Rays by Reflection: But if it peetrate the Body, and find farther Passage, it cannot be seen except only in its first Source, the Luminous Body from whence it was shed originally; nor does it then do us any Service in shewing other Objects.

The Object of Hearing is Sound; by which we are to understand that Noise which results from the mutual Collision of two Bodies; and this is ve­ry various: For some Sounds are sweet and me­lodious, they sooth and charm the Soul, calm the Passions, compose the Humours of the Body, and chase away the Disorders of the whole Man. O­thers again are smart and piercing, strike through the very Soul, wound and disturb our Facul­ties with an ungrateful Harshness. But of all our Senses, the Mind seems to be most under the Power of This; none entertains it with greater Variety; none takes more absolute Possession of it.

The Object of Taste is what we call Savour or Relishes; of which the Simple are Sweet, Bitter, Sour, Sharp, Salt, Acid: But of the Compounds there is no Number; they are made so exquisite, and multiplied so industriously.

That of Smelling is Flavour; which is a sort of Vapour arising from the Odoriferous Object, and ascending through the Nose into the first and most prominent Ventricles of the Brain. Such Perfumes as are very strong, commit a sort of Violence upon the Brain, and are prejudicial or offensive to it: But those that are agreeable and moderate, mini­ster [Page 79]wonderful Comfort and Refreshment, and both delight and do good to the Head.

The Objects of Feeling are such as usually are term'd the Tactile Qualities, Hot, Cold, Moist, Dry; to which we may add Soft and Sharp, Rough and Smooth, Motion and Rest, Tickling, &c.

VI. The Last thing which must concur in Sen­sation, is the Medium, or Space betwixt the Ob­ject and the Organ; and this, to render the Ope­ration what it ought to be, is the Air, not in any wise changed or corrupted, but free, and in its Na­tural Purity and Disposition.

2 From hence we may gather, That the Act of Sensation is perform'd, when the Object, or sensi­ble Species presents it self by the help of a Medium dispos'd to convey this Representation to the pro­per Organ sitted to receive it; and that the Ani­mal Spirits lodg'd there do accordingly take the Impression, and apprehend the thing: So that here is Action and Passion both; and the Senses are not purely Passive; for, notwithstanding that they re­ceive an Impression, and in that respect are acted upon, yet do they likewise act in some Degree themselves, so far as they perceive the Image, and apprehend the Object propounded to them.

See the Advertisement at the End of the next Chapter.

3 The old Philosophy before Aristotle's Time, made a very remarkable Difference between the Sight and the rest of the Senses: Supposing This to be meerly Active, and imagining, that, whereas the Others receiv'd the Object and Impression from without, and so cou'd only be Passive; The Eye quite contrary shot out its Rays of Light from within, and made an Impression upon the Visi­ble Object. But ever since Aristotle, this Account of Vision hath been better stated, and all the Sen­ses [Page 80]are allow'd to be equally Passive, equally wrought upon from without: All the Arguments of the Ancients to the contrary being very easily answer'd and set aside.

4 But now, besides these Five particular Senses, the Organs whereof appear outwardly, there is An­other, which is call'd the Common Sensory within. Here it is that the several Objects of every sort, perceiv'd by the Corporeal Organs, make their Rendezvous: Hither they are brought to be exa­min'd, compar'd, sorted out, and distinguish'd a­sunder: For were there no such Office of Enqui­ry, all wou'd end in Confusion. This discerning Power is above the Capacity of any particular Organ of Sense; for each of these is intent upon his own Business; and whatever his Fellows do, is out of His Sphere; he knows nothing at all of the Matter; nor can he be a competent Judge in it.

CHAP. X. Of the Senses, which are the most Exalted and Noble Parts of the Body.

1 THE Ordinary way of being conducted to the Knowledge of Things, Of what Consequence they are to us. is by the Assistance and Ministry of our Senses; so say the Schools, but it is not universally true. These are our first Instructers:See Ch. xv. 11. All our Learning begins with them, and is at last resolv'd into them: We can go no farther back than they lead us, or give occasion for us to build Consequences upon. Each of These is supreme within its own Territories; and a large Dominion each of them possesses: An infinite Num­ber [Page 81]of Reflections and Notions arise from each; nor does any One of them hold under, depend up­on, or stand in need of the rest: Thus the Power of them all is equally absolute, though some of them have a wider Range, and more Business, and a longer Train of Consequences and Instructions, than some others. Nor are we to wonder at This, since the Case is the same in other Instances: For a Petty Prince is as independent, as truly Sovereign within his own small Territories, as the greatest Monarch upon Earth in Kingdoms of the largest extent.

2 It is a Maxim universally receiv'd, Their Number. That there are but Five Senses in Nature; and that which in­clines all the World to think so, is, because we can observe no more in our selves: But possibly there may be more, and some question may be made of it; nay indeed some probable Reasons may be offer'd, that there are more. But suppo­sing that there are, it is certainly not in our Power to know it; nor can we possibly assert or deny the thing positively; For there is no way to disco­ver the Want or Defect of a Sense we never had. Several Brutes enjoy all the Advantages of Life that are necessary to them, notwithstanding they do not enjoy all the Methods of Sensation, which Nature hath given to Mankind; and I see no Rea­son, why an Animal may not subsist without any of the Five Senses, that of Touch only excepted, which alone wou'd supply the bare Necessities of Life. It is plain we live very conveniently with Five; and yet perhaps there may be One, or Two, or Three more in Nature, which we in no degree partake of. But, as I said, this is more than we do or can know; for each Sense is consin'd within its own Division, and can make no Discoveties, nor hath any Jurisdiction out of its own Compass. A Man Blind from his Birth can never be brought [Page 82]to any Idea of Sight; nor can he (strictly speak­ing) either desire it, or be concern'd for the want of it. 'Tis true, he will tell you perhaps, that he wishes to See, but this is spoke by rote, and according as he hears other People express them­selves; for indeed he wishes he knows not what: And all it comes to at last is, that he wou'd be glad to have somewhat which he is told the rest of the World have, and himself hath not. The reason of all This is, Because the Senses are the Doors, See Note. at which all our Knowledge makes its first Entrance; and that which did not begin, and is not let in that way, cannot come in at all. Thus a Man is not capable of forming to himself a Con­ception of more Senses, than those Five which himself hath, and consequently cannot persuade himself, that there are, or can be more in Nature; but it does not follow from hence that there can be no more, because he hath no Notion of any more. Who knows whether the many Difficulties which still remain unaccounted for in many of the Works of Nature, and the Operations of Ani­mals, that escape the nicest Enquiry, and subtilest Penetration of Humane Wit, may not be charg­ed upon the Want of some Sense, which we are not provided with to discern them? What the World usually expresses by the Title of Sympathies, Antipathies, and Occult Qualities, may have some Sensitive Faculties in Nature, accommodated to perceive, and make a competent Judgment of them; and perhaps our Ignorance of them is owing to our being desicient in this Point. Who can tell, whether it be not some particular Sixth Sense, which informs the Cock, when it is Mid­night, and the first Dawning of the Day, and by some secret Impulse, puts him constantly up­on Crowing at those times? The same may be said of that Direction, by which some Brutes are [Page 83]led to such Herbs, as are proper for their Recovery, when sick or surfeited; and of many other such things as these, which are notorious Matters of Fact, but the reasons of them perfectly unknown. This is a Case in which we are utterly in the Dark; and no Man can be positively assur'd on either side of the Question.

3 Some indeed have undertaken to give a Reason for this particular Number of Five Senses, Whether enough of them. and to prove that These are suflicient, by comparing and distinguishing them, and the Uses they serve. All Bodies (say they) without us, which are Ob­jects of our Senses, are either very near and close to Our Body, or they are at some distance from it: If they be close to us, and still remain with­out us, then they fall under our Touch: If they approach, and come into us, then they are the Objects of our Taste: If they are more remote, and stand before us, so that their Distances are measur'd by a Right Line, then the Sight discerns them: If the Line be Oblique, and the Motion Reflex, then the Hearing does it. Now methinks the Distinction were better thus: Of the Five Senses accommodated for the Service of the whole Man, as he is compounded of Body and Soul, some are appropriated to the Use of the Body on­ly; and These are the Touch and the Taste; the One for all that enters within, the Other for that which continues still without it. Some again are first and chiefly design'd for the Benefit of the Soul, and those are Sight and Hearing; the For­mer to assist Invention, the Latter for Improve­ment, and Instruction, and all manner of Com­munication. And One more in the midst of these Extremes, sitted to those Spirits and Avenues, that belong to Soul and Body both, which is Smel­ling. Again, They answer to the Four Elements, and their respective Qualities; The Touch to the [Page 84] Earth; Hearing to the Air; Taste to Water and Moi­sture; Smelling to Fire; and Sight to a Compound of Water and Fire, because of the Brightness of the Eye. It is likewise pretended, that there are as many Senses, as there are General Divisions of sen­sible Objects; and these are Colours, Sounds, Scents, Relishes, and a Fifth sort, which wants a Name to express it, adapted to the Touch, and comprehend­ing all the Tactile Qualities, as Hot, Cold, Hard, Soft, Rough, Smooth, Sharp, and the rest of them. But This is evidently a Mistake; for the Number of the Senses is by no means adjusted, according to the Number of the Objects they are capable of. Nor are these Objects the Cause of their being just so many, and no more. Were this a good Account, it wou'd follow, that we must have been endu'd with a great many more than we now have; whereas now one and the same Sense entertains Objects of different Kinds; and one and the same Object creates a Perception, and impres­ses it self upon several Senses at once. The most probable Account of this Matter seems rather to be, That the Senses were intended for Means and Instruments of conveying Knowledge to us; and that Nature, which, as she is not niggardly, so neither is she profuse, hath given us as many Sen­ses as are suflicient for this purpose; and that when she had supply'd us with enough for our Use, she did not think sit to give us any more.

4 Of These the Sense of Seeing does surpass all the rest in the Quickness of its Operation; A Compa­rision of them. For it reaches the very Heavens in an Instant, and acts in the Air, which is full of Light and Ima­ges, without any Trouble or Motion; whereas all the rest of the Senses receive their Impression by the Motion of those Bodies which make it. And all Motion requires Time to be perform'd in; so that all the other Senses must needs proceed more [Page 85]slowly than This, which need but open its Organ, and is sure to find Light and Colours stand always ready to be discern'd by it. All the Senses are likewise capable of Pleasure and Pain; but This is observable of the two grossest of them, That the Touch is capable of abundance of Pain, and but very little Pleasure; and the Taste, just contrary, feels a great deal of Pleasure, and little or no Pain.

5 The Weakness and Uncertainty of our Senses is the Great Cause of our Ignorance, and Errour, The Weak­ness and Uncertain­ty of them. and all sort of Misapprehension: For, since Knowledge is attain'd by the Mediation of the Senses only, if these make a false Report, what can we do but receive and stick to it? But after All, who can tell what Reports they make, or how can any Man accuse them of Falshood, since we learn all from Them, and consequently even That which gives us this Jealousie, and is the Ground of the Accusation? Some indeed affirm, That the Senses are faithful in all their Messages, and represent the very Truth; That, when we imagine they deceive us, the Fault is not in Them, but in something else; and that we ought rather to lay it at any other Door; for no other thing is so free from, so incapable of imposing upon us. Some again run into the contrary Extreme, cry out up­on the Senses as downright infamous Lyars, and tell you, that nothing at all of Certainty can be had from them.See Ad­vertise­ment. But the Truth lies between these Extremes.

6 Now, Whether the Senses themselves are de­ceiv'd or not, thus much at least is evident, The mutual Deceits of the Mind, and the Senses. that they put a Cheat, nay sometimes a Constraint up­on Reason; and that by an unhappy Vicissitude, Reason pays them back in their own Coin, and returns the Cheat upon Them. And is not Man, think you, like to be wonderful Wise and Know­ing, when the outward and the inward Instru­ments [Page 86]of Instruction are Eternally tricking one another, and his whole Composition is full of Fals­hood and Weakness in the most necessary and essential Parts of it? Now, that the Senses deceive, and commit a Violence upon the Understanding, we see plain enough in those Instances, where Some of them immediately put us in a Rage, O­thers sweeten and appease the Soul, and Others again tickle and please it exceedingly. And why shou'd Men turn their Heads away, when they are let Blood, or lanced, or suffer Incisions and Burn­ings, but from their Consciousness of the Power the Senses have to disturb their Reason; and that the same thing is better born, when the Eyes do not observe the Operation? The Looking down a Pit, or vast Precipice, disorders and confounds a Man, though he knows at the same time, that he stands safe himself, and cannot reasonably appre­hend any danger of salling into it? And, to in­stance in no more, 'tis evident, that Sense of Pain and Pleasure both, does every Day vanquish, and utterly confound the best and bravest Resolutions of Virtue, and Temperance, and Patience.

Again, It is no less evident, that the Senses on the other hand are cheated by the Understanding. This is demonstrated by those Agitations of An­ger, and Love, and Hatred, and other Passions, which impose upon us, and make us see and hear things quite otherwise than they really are. Nay sometimes our Senses are not only deceived, but perfectly stupify'd, and bound up from all power of Action, by violent Disorders of the Soul, as if the Soul retir'd inwards, and were entirely taken up there; For thus it often happens, when our Mind is very intent upon somewhat else, the Eye never sees, nor takes the least notice of those Objects that stand directly before it, and present themselves to our View. And Reason and Sense judge very [Page 87]differently of the Magnitude of the Sun and Stars, and of the Shape of a Stick in the Water.

7 Other Living Creatures have a Share in this Gift of Nature as well as We, These Sen­ses are common to Men and Brutes. and sometimes are more liberally dealt with in it: For Some are quicker of Hearing than Men; Others have a stronger and clearer Sight; Others a nicer Smell; and Others a more distinguishing Taste. The general Opini­on is, that a Stag excells all other Creatures in Hearing, an Eagle in Seeing, a Dog in Smelling, an Ape in Tasting, and a Tortoise in Feeling. But yet the Pre-eminence in this last hath been allow'd to Man; which is not much for our Credit, since This of all the Senses is reckon'd the grossest and most Brutal. In the mean while, this Reflexion upon what hath gone before, may not be unsea­sonable; That if the Senses are the Means and Instruments of Knowledge, and Brutes have Sen­ses too, nay frequently more acute and penetra­ting than Ours, there may a fair Argument be drawn from hence, for Their partaking in Know­ledge with us, as well as they partake of the Helps and Means that convey it to us.

8 But though the Senses be the Instruments of Know­ledge, yet are they not the only Instruments; It is hard to trust our Senses. much less are our own Senses alone to be consulted or depended upon in the Case: For if it happens that Brutes have from Their Senses a Report dif­ferent from that which Ours make, and the Judg­ment given upon that Evidence do consequently disagree with the Notions we form to our selves, (as in sundry Instances 'tis plain it does happen) which of these two Testimonies shall we believe? Our Fasting-Spittle cleanses and heals our own Wounds, and yet it kills a Serpent; Now from Two so different Effects, what Conclusion can be made concerning the true Nature of Humane Spittle? Shall we say that it is of a Drying and a Cleansing, [Page 88]or of a Poysonous and Killing Quality? To make any certain Determination of the Operations of Sense, we shou'd do well, methinks, to agree with the Brutes, who have the same Faculties as well as We. But the least that can possibly be requir'd in order to it, is That we shou'd be consistent with our own selves, and that the same Judge, and the same Evidence shou'd always concur in the same Sentence. And yet even This we are not come to: Shut your Eye, and put your Fin­ger upon part of the Lid, and this Eye so press'd sees things after another manner, than it does in the Natural and Common Posture. Stop your Ear, and the Sound is vastly different from what it is in the ordinary Impression: These Disseren­ces every Man, when he will, may make for himself. But some there are which Nature hath made to our Hand: A Child Tastes, and Hears, and Sees much otherwise than a Grown Man; and a Man in his full Strength dislers no less from an Old Man; One in perfect Health, from a sick Person; a Wise Man from a Fool. Now where the Diversity and Distance is so great, nay, where there is even a Contrariety of Per­ceptions, where shall we fix, or what can we de­pend upon for Truth? Even One Sense contra­dicts, and gives the Lye to another; for a Piece of Painting which seems Raised, and in Relief (as they term it) to the Eye, when we come to feel it with the Hand, is perfectly flat and smooth.

CHAP. XI. Of Sight, Hearing, and Speech.

THese are the Three Jewels,These Three [...] together. the most Excel­lent and Valuable Endowments, that belong to the Body of Man: None that appear to out­ward View, are comparable to them; but it will bear some Dispute, which of the Three ought to be preferr'd. As to the Organ, by which they are performed, it must be confest, that That of the Sight is admirable for its charming Form, and nice Composition; it is Beautiful, Lively, and Sparkling, made up of great Variety; its Parts Subtle, and Small; and their Humours mix'd to Astonishment, both for Use and Comeliness. From whence that common Observation hath obtained, that the Eye is one of those Parts, which Nature first begins to form, and finishes one of the last. Upon the same Account This is one of the tenderest, and most delicate Parts about us: Subject to a vast Number of Diseases and Infirmities. Physicians and Anatomists have reckoned no less than a Hundred and Twenty Indispositions incident to it. Speech is esteem'd the next in Dignity, but Hearing makes some amends for the last and lowest Place, by the many great Advantages belonging to it. Sight seems to be the most Necessary, and most Serviceable to the Bo­dy. And this seems to be the Reason, why it is of greater Consequence to Brutes, whose Advan­tages are chiefly Corporeal, than Hearing can be: But Hearing seems to challenge the Preference, with Regard to the Advantages and Improvement of the Mind. Sight is principally Useful for In­vention, [Page 103]for most things are discover'd by the help of this Sense; but though it lays the first Foun­dations, and gives the Hints, yet it brings nothing to Perfection. It is farther to be consider'd, that Sight is capable of Perception in nothing but what is Corporeal, and it gives no Knowledge of Uni­versals. Individuals and Bodies are its proper Ob­ject, and it cannot penetrate into these any deep­er than the Shell or Surface. It is the proper In­strument of Ignorant and Unlearned Men, who look no farther, than that which is just before them, and makes an Impression upon the outward Senses.

2 Hearing may be term'd an Inward and Spiritual Sense: Hearing [...]. It is the Agent and Conveyer of Intelli­gence to the Understanding; the Instrument of Learning and Thought; and receives not only In­dividuals, as Sight does, but dives into their most secret and abstruse Parts; nay it hath a Capacity so large as to comprehend General, Spiritual, Ab­stracted, and Divine Truths; such as Sight is so far from giving us any assistance in, that it ra­ther disturbs and confounds us in the Disquisi­sition of them. Accordingly, there have been many Instances of Great Men who have been blind, and yet singularly eminent for Wisdom and Knowledge; and some of Persons who have de­priv'd themselves of Sight, in order to the be­coming more exquisite Philosophers; but no one Example of either of these Kinds can be produ­ced in Deaf Persons. This is the Gate by which we enter, and storm the Castle; By This we bend the Mind to Good or Evil. So Profane Story tells us of Agamemnon's Queen, whose Chastity was preserv'd by Musick: And so Sacred Story relates, that Saul's Evil-Spirit was charm'd by David's Harp: and so the Roman History observes, that Graechus the famous Orator sweetned his Voice by the help [Page 104]of one that play'd to him upon the Flute, and taught him such Tones, as were most moving, and for his purpose. In short, This is the Only Pas­sage that Learning, and Truth, and Vertue have found to our Souls; and the Gospel it self enters by it:Rom. x. 17 For the Apostle hath told us, That Faith cometh by Hearing, and Hearing by the Word of God. And that they who obstinately stick to the Report of their Sight, will find it rather an Obstruction than an Informer in the highest Mysteries of Re­ligion.Heb. xi. 1. That Faith is the Evidence of things not seen, and the Belief of Testimonies that are heard: And accordingly the Primitive Christians had a Class of Believers to whom they gave the Title of Audientes, Hearers. To all This I may add, that This Sense is of great Use in the Dark, and when Men are asleep, by giving them seasonable Alarms, and awakening them to provide for their Defence and Preservation. Upon all these Accounts the Philosophers are so profuse in their Praises of Hear­ing, recommending the diligent use of it, advising us to purge our Ears, and keep them clean from Prejudice and Corruption; This being the best Security, the surest Guard of our Souls, as a Com­mander in Garrison would make it his first and chief Care, to keep strict Centry, and line the Gates and Walls well, for fear an Enemy should rush in and surprize him.

3 Speech is a particular Favour of Nature to Man­kind, The Power of Speech. and a very useful, necessary, and excellent Gift it is. Consider it with respect to the Speak­er, and it is the Image and Interpreter of the Soul; the Messenger of the Heart, the Door by which all that lies within, comes out, and shews it self abroad. Whatsoever is born in Darkness, is thus brought forth into the Light; the Mind discovers and displays it self most clearly this way; which gave occasion to that Saying of one of the Anci­ents,^* [Page 105] Speak, that I may know what you are. Thus Men are like Vessels, which by the Sound are quickly distinguish'd, whether they be broken or whole, full or empty; and Speech to Them is like the Touchstone to Metals; the Counterfeit and the true Standard are immediately known by it.

But if we consider it with regard to the Persons to whom it is directed, thus it is a powerful and an imperious Master; enters the Castle, seizes the Governour; it moves and stirs him, it animates and encourages, it provokes and appeases, it raises and dejects him; it overwhelms him with Grief, and transports him with Joy; makes what Impressions, inspires what Passions it pleases; manages and moulds the Soul into any Form, and bends it all manner of ways: Nay, it extends its Dominion o­ver the Body too; makes that Red with Blushes, and Pale with Fear; provokes Laughter and Tears; forces it to start and shiver; to tremble with An­ger, leap for Joy, swoon and faint away with Vio­lence of Passion.

Consider it with regard to the World in general, and Speech is as it were the Hand of the Soul, which This uses as the Body does the Natural one, for taking and receiving, for asking and for giving As­sistance. This is the great Goer-between, the Car­rier of Intelligence, the Factor for Trade^† , as the Latin Etymologists tell us, that the Word which signifies Traffick and Commerce, derives it self from Mercury the God of Eloquence. By It Treaties of Peace are made, War proclaim'd, all manner of Business publick and private negotiated and dis­patched; Learning, and all the hidden Treasures of the Mind uttered and distributed: For This in Truth is the Original and the Instrument of all Communication; the Band and Cement of Hu­mane [Page 106]Society, (provided the Language be perfect­ly understood; for as one of the Ancients said, A Man had better be in the Company of a Dog that he knows, and is acquainted with, than in that of another Man, who cannot make himself understood by us. So that one Foreigner to another does by no means answer the^† Character of his Nature, and is in ef­fect as no Man.)

In short, The Tongue is a Tool converted to all manner of Uses; an Instrument of Good and Evil,Prov. xviii. 21. as Wisdom it self hath taught us; Life and Death are in the Power of the Tongue. The Advanta­ges and the Inconveniences that proceed from it are never to be exprest; a prudent or an incautious, a wicked, or a conscientious use of it, disposes our own, and sometimes other Peoples Fortunes; or draws down infinite Dangers; preserves or de­stroys Reputation:Of a good and ill Tougue. Prov. x. 20. xii. 18. xv. 4. So that nothing is of better or worse Consequence than the Tongue. The Tongue of the Wise and Just (says the same Divine Wisdom) is as choice Silver, it is Health, it is a Tree of Life, enriching, healing, reconciling; a Preservative and a Happiness. It is as the Door to a Royal Cabi­net, upon the opening whereof we immediately see a Thousand precious Rarities, more beautiful, more valuable than all the Wealth of both the In­dies; more fragrant and refreshing than all the Gums and Spices of Arabia. The Wise draws out his Artillery in Order, sets his Philosophical Apho­risms and profitable Sentences in array, applies his Similitudes and Examples pertinently and seasona­bly, improves others by his Reading, and renders the Histories of former Ages of present and pub­lick Use, enriches all he converses with out of his own inexhaustible Mine; offers nothing but what issolid, and substantial, and try'd; and is ready [Page 107]upon all occasions, (like the Wealthy and Prudent Housholder alluded to in the Gospel) to bring forth out of his Treasures things new and old. Mat. xiii. Such benefi­cial Instructions as may be of use to regulate the Manners of private Persons, and direct the Go­vernment and Administration of the Publick; such as may be serviceable to all Circumstances, all the Parts and Duties of Men, and teach them both how to Live, and how to Die well. And when These are introduc'd at seasonable Times, and ma­nag'd with Discretion, the Beauty and the Plea­sure of them is exceeding great, as well as the Benefit and Advantage; A Word fitly spoken is like Apples of Gold in Pictures of Silver. Prov. xxv. 11. So the Wisest of Men hath express'd the Counsels, or Reproofs, or Comforts handsomly deliver'd; and what can possibly be more grateful, more valuable, more or­namental?

The Mouth of a wicked Man, quite contrary, is a noisom stinking Pit; his Breath is contagious, and kills like a Pestilence; Murders his Neigh­bour secretly, Stabs and wounds his Reputation to Death; and then insults over his mangled Honour with a barbarous Triumph. It is Sword, and Fire, and Poyson, and Death, and Hell, and Every thing that is mischievous and destructive. The Holy Spirit it self hath allow'd it no better a Character;Jam. iii. 6. for St. James hath call'd it a Fire, a World of Iniqui­ty, a Defiler of the whole Body, an Incendiary to the Course of Nature; and this Firebrand it self kindled in Hell. And the Son of Syrach hath enlarg'd upon the Subject so well,Ecclus. xxviii. 13-21. that the whole Passage ought to be inserted. Curse the Whisperer and Double-Tongued, for such have destroy'd many that were at Peace. A Back­biting Tongue hath disquieted many, and driven them from Nation to Nation; strong Cities hath it pull'd down, and overthrown the Houses of great Men. Whoso heark­eneth unto it shall never find rest, nor dwell quietly. [Page 108]The Stroke of the Whip maketh Marks in the Flesh, but the Stroke of the Tongue breaketh the Bones. Many have fallen by the Edge of the Sword, but not so many as have fallen by the Tongue. Well is He that is defended from it, and hath not pass'd through the Venom thereof; who hath not drawn the Yoke thereof, nor hath been bound in her Bands. For the Yoke thereof is a Yoke of Iron; and the Bands thereof are Bands of Brass. The Death thereof is an evil Death, the Grave is better than it.

4 Now These Two, Correspon­dence of Hearing and Speech. Hearing and Speech, answer, and have a near and intimate Relation to one another; Each of them single is of no Significance at all; and therefore Nature, to make Either of them useful, found it necessary to supply us with Both. They are the Two Doors of the Soul, whereby she sends in and out, and holds a Corre­spondence all the World over; nay, she does not only send, but go; for by these two, like Vessels with their Orifices joyn'd, the Soul communicates and pours out her Thoughts, and transfuses her very Self into another's Breast. Where these Pas­sages are shut and closed, as they are in the Deaf and Dumb, the Mind is in perpetual Misery and Solitude; For Hearing is the Door for Entrance, and Speech for going Abroad: By the former of these, the Soul receives the Conceptions of others; by the latter she imparts and enriches them with her own. The mutual Operation of these Two may be resembled to the Flint and the Steel, from the Concussion and Strokes whereof, Truth, like a Sacred Fire, is kindled; For They agitating and polishing each other, scour off the Rust of the Mind, brighten and beautifie it, and bring all Knowledge to Perfection. Only we must ob­serve, that these Noble Effects have their first Be­ginning from the Hearing; for Wisdom must needs have been put into the Mind before it can be [Page 109]drawn out from thence. And accordingly we see that Persons born Deaf, are constantly Dumb too. The first thing to be done is to furnish this House within, which is ordinarily done by Hearing; and then follows the distributing our Stores by Con­versation and Speech: So that the Good and Evil of what we speak, will depend upon the Good and Evil of what we hear: For such as we are ac­custom'd to receive, such of necessity we must give back again: And therefore a Man should above all things keep his Ears chaste and unpolluted, and stop them against Vice and Indecency; for this sort of Communication is exceeding infectious,Book III. Chap. 43. and taints the Mind presently. The Advices that are proper for the Use and Government of our Speech, will be insisted upon hereafter.

CHAP. XII. Of the other Faculties, viz. Imagination, Memory, and Appetite.

THE Fancy or Imaginative Faculty, first col­lects the several Images receiv'd by the Senses, forms Idea's out of them, and lays them up for use. This is done in so accurate and faithful a manner, that though the Objects themselves be far distant, nay, though the Man be asleep, and all his Senses lock'd up, yet this Faculty represents them to the Mind and Thoughts, in Images so strong, so lively, that the Imagination does the ve­ry same to the Understanding now, which the Object it self did, by the first and freshest Im­pressions heretofore.

The Memorative Faculty is the Register and Store­house of all the Idea's and Images first perceiv'd by the Senses, and then collected and seal'd up by the Imagination.

The Appetite seeks, and pursues, and culls out of all these things so apprehended, such of them as appear to be Good and most Agreeable.

CHAP. XIII. Of the Intellectual Faculty; which is peculiar to the Humane Soul.

1 BEfore we enter upon any other Discourse rela­ting to this Subject, it is necessary to observe the Seat or Instrument of this Faculty, and then its Action, or Method of Operating.

Now the Seat,The Seat and Instru­ment of the Soul. or rather the Throne of the Rea­sonable Soul, where it sits and reigns Supreme, is not the Heart, (as was generally supposed before Plato and Hippocrates) but the Brain: For the Heart is not capable of Wisdom, but is properly the Seat and Source of Vegetation. Now the Brain, which in Man much exceeds the Quantity assign'd to any other Creature, must be so contriv'd and dispos'd, that the Reasonable Soul may act freely; and in order hereunto, the Figure of it must be almost like that of a Ship; it must not be a perfect Round, it must not be too Great, nor too Little; though of the Two Extremes the Excess is much less to be found fault with, than the Defect: It must be compos'd of a delicate fluid Substance, of fine and subtle Parts, and these well joyn'd together, and all united without any Separation, or void Spaces throughout the whole. It hath Four small Cavi­ties [Page 111]or Ventricles, Three of which lie forward in the middle, and are plac'd in a Collateral Line to one another: The Fourth lies behind these, toward the hinder part of the Head, and is single by it self. This is the Shop in which the Vital Spirits are first form'd and united, in order to the being afterwards converted into Animal Spi­rits, and then convey'd into the Three Cavities that lie forward: And these Animal Spirits are the In­struments made use of by the Soul, for discharg­ing her several Functions, and exercising all her Faculties. Those Faculties are likewise Three; the Understanding, the Memory, and the Imagination: And these are not exercis'd distinctly and apart, nor hath each of them a different Ventricle of the Brain ap­propriated to it; (which is all an old and vulgar Errour concerning them) but their Operations are alltogether, and in common. All the Three Fa­culties exert themselves in all and every of the Three Cavities; somewhat like our Bodily Senses, which are double, and have Two Organs, in each of which the same Sense performs all its Opera­tions entire. From hence it comes to pass, that a Man who is hurt or disabled in Two of these Three Ventricles, (as one in a Palsie, for In­stance) does yet continue to have the use of all his Three Faculties: That is, He understands, and remembers, and forms Idea's still, by virtue of that One Cavity, which the Disease hath not yet sei­zed upon. It is true, he does this more weakly, and every Operation of every kind is more im­perfect than it was formerly, because the Strength and Vigour of One is not equal to the united Force of Three: But yet it evidently follows from hence, that each Faculty hath not its Workhouse in a distinct Apartment, and entire to it self a­lone; for then, assoon as any of these Ventricles begins to be disabled, that Faculty to which it [Page 112]belongs, must immediately cease, and cou'd never more be exerted in any Degree at all.

3 Some Persons have been of Opinion, How far the Reaso­nable Soul is Orga­nical. that the Reasonable Soul is not Organical; that is, that it can act separately and independently, and hath no need of any Corporeal Instrument to assist it in the Discharge of its Functions. And this Notion they have been more fond of, because they ima­gine it of consequence for proving the Immorta­lity of the Soul. Now without engaging in a vast and dark Labyrinth of Dispute, about a Matter which we are incapable of knowing perfectly, this Question may be brought to a short Issue: For if we will but credit our own Eyes, and our own Experience, every Day gives us Demonstra­tions, which overthrow this Opinion, and esta­blish the Contrary. It is certain that all Men have not equal Capacities, nor do they apprehend things, or argue upon them alike, but the Disparity is very great and visible between one Man and an­other. It is no less evident, that the same Per­son changes, and differs from himself; that his Reason is more clear, and perfect, and strong at one Time, and at one Age, in one Disposition of Body, and in one Circumstance of Fortune and Life, than it is in another. One Man can do nothing except he have Ease and Leisure; another requires Dangers and Difficulties to rouze him, and never thinks to purpose, till he be prest hard, and driven to Extremities: A Third finds himself much more capable in Health than in Sickness: And a Fourth feels his Mind most vigorous and active, then when his Diseases and Weakness have reduc'd his Body lowest. The same Man at one Season excels in Judgment, and flags in his Fancy; so that One Faculty decays in proportion as Another improves. Now the most probable Account that can be given for all these Differences and Alte­rations, [Page 113]seems to be a difference in the State and Disposition of the Organs, which are to the Soul as Tools to the Artificer. Which way but this shall we answer for the strange Effects we see produc'd by Drunkenness, by the Bite of a Mad Dog, by a high Fever, by a Blow upon the Head, by the Vapours that rise from the Sto­mach and annoy the Brain; and by several o­ther Accidents which affect any of the Parts there­abouts? What Confusions do they make, how perfectly stupid, and childish, and frantick do Men grow upon them, lose their Memory quite, and feel their Heads turn'd upside down, their former Idea's eraced, their Judgment destroy'd? All the Wisdom of Greece is not able to maintain it self against them; and if the Shock be very violent indeed, then it does not only disturb and enfeeble, but quite drive away the Soul, and constrain her to remove out of the Body. Now it is plain, that these Accidents are purely Corporeal, and conse­quently they cannot affect what is not so; they can never fly so high as the exalted and Spiritu­al Faculties of the Reasonable Soul; all that they can do is to vitiate the Organs, to put Them out of their Course, and intercept the usual Commu­nications; and when This is once effected, the Soul can no longer act regularly; She may com­mand, but They cannot obey; and if these Or­gans are sore bruised, and distorted very grievously, then She and They can no longer subsist toge­ther: The Lodging is no longer sit to entertain her, and she must be gone.

Now I do by no means see, how this Opinion can be guilty of any Prejudice to that of the Im­mortality of the Soul; For first, We are not here en­quiring what the Soul is, but how she operates, and what Laws of Action she is bound up to, while in Conjunction with a Mortal Body. And [Page 114]Secondly, The making Use of Corporeal Instru­ments, does by no Means prove the User to be Corporeal or Mortal. God, without all Question, is Immortal, and yet God himself does not think it below him to use such; and to proportion the Effects and Operations of his Providence to them. He produces Men of different Understandings and Parts, according to the Constitution of their Pa­rents, and the Concurrence of other Natural Causes; nay, even according to the different Climate, and Country, and Air they are born in. For Greece and Italy have ever been observ'd to produce Men of quicker, and clearer Wit, than Muscovy and Tartary. And as God does in this Case, so does the Mind in o­thers. It reasons better or worse, remembers more or less Faithfully, hath a more fruitful, or more barren Imagination, according as the Organs (which are the Corporeal Instruments appointed to serve it upon these Occasions) are better or worse di­sposed to do their Duty. Now the Brain is pro­perly the Instrument of the Reasonable Soul, and therefore upon the due Temperament of This, a great deal must needs, indeed the Whole in a manner, will depend: That therefore shall be the next Thing we attempt to give an Account of.

4 By this Temperament is to be understood the Mixture and Proportion of the Four Prime Qua­lities, Of the Tempera­ment of the Brain. Hot and Cold, Moist and Dry; or rather a Fifth Quality, which is, as it were, a Harmony resulting from a due Conjunction of all these together, like that Concord in Sounds, which arises from a Friendly Complication of different Notes. Now upon that Mixture of the Brain it is, that the State and the Operations of the Reasonable Soul depend. On­ly This is Man's great Unhappiness, that the Three Faculties, Understanding, Memory, and Imagination, do each of them require different, nay, contrary Tem­peraments, for their Exercise and Perfection. The [Page 115] Temperament proper for the Understanding is a Pre­dominance of Dry; and this gives us some Ac­count, how it comes to pass, that Persons far gone in Years, are more Intelligent and Judicious, than those that are Younger. For, besides the Advantages which Art, and Study, and Experience may give them; they have a Disposition to it from Nature; The Brain, as Men grow older, purifying it self from Excrementitious Humours, and growing dryer every Day: For the same Reason, in all likeli­hood, Melancholy Persons, and those under Af­fliction, and Want, and Persons that are fasting (it being an Effect of Grief and Fasting to keep the Brain dry) may be better disposed to think; and qualified to do it to good Purpose, as well as some of them are necessitated by their Circum­stances, to apply themselves to it. This is farther observable in Brutes; Ants, and Bees, and Ele­phants, as they are the Dryest, so they are the most capable, and ingenious of any; and those of a moist Constitution, (the Swine for Instance) are Stupid and Senseless. Thus again in Men; Those of Southerly Countries, excel in Wisdom, from the Drought of their Brain, and their inward Heat being moderated, by that of a Violent Sun with­out, which exhales it.

The Temperament best accommodated to the Me­mory is Moist; and hence it is, that Children are more ready and perfect in it, than old People; hence it is most apt and faithful in a Morning, when the Brain hath been well refreshed, and throughly moistned by a good Nights Sleep; hence also the Inhabitants of the Northern Climates, have the strongest Memories, for These are under a moister Air, by Means of their great Distance from the Sun. But this Moisture must not be so mi­staken as if I meant, that the Temper of the Memory is fluid, like Water; but rather such a [Page 116]Moisture as we may observe in Air, Glew, Grease, or Oyl; something of such a Substance and Con­tinuity of Parts, as may both take the Impression easily, and keep it a great while; as we see Pictures do, that are laid in Oyl Colours.

The Temperament sittest for the Imagination, is Hot, which makes Distracted, Hair-brain'd, and Feverish People, excel all others in bold and lofty Flights of Fancy. Thus Poetry, Divination, and all that de­pends upon Imagination, were always thought to pro­ceed from a sort of Fury and Inspiration. This Fa­culty is for the same Reason most Vigorous in Youth and the Flower of our Age: The Poets according­ly flourished at these Years, and Almighty God, (who even in Supernatural Influences and Effects, made great use of Natural Causes, and did as lit­tle Violence as was possible, to a Course of his own Instituting) ordered the Matter so, that most of the Prophets should do so too. The same Rea­son holds likewise for those Middle Regions, and more Moderate Climates, between the North and the South, where Men are observ'd to excel in those Arts and Sciences, which are derived from the Strength and Sprightliness of Fancy.

Now, from this great inequality of these Mix­tures and Proportions, it frequently happens, that a Man may be tolerably well to pass in all these Three Faculties, and not arrive at an Excellence in any one of them; as also, That a Man may be conspicuous, and exceeding well Accomplish'd in one of these Respects, and yet very Wanting and Despicable in the other Two. It is manifest, the Temperaments adapted for the Memory, and the Understanding, are the most Distant and Contrary in the World; for what can be more so than, Moist and Dry? That of the Imagination does not seem so remote from the Rest, for Hot will agree well enough with Moist or Dry, and is far from being [Page 117]Incompatible with either; and yet, though these seem so consistent in Nature, we see them very seldom reconcil'd in Fact; For those who are e­steemed most Excellent in Imagination, are general­ly found very Weak both in Point of Memory and Understanding; and thought near a Kin to Fools or Mad-Men. The Reason whereof may possibly be This. That the Heat, which feeds and exalts their Imagination, wasts and exhausts that Moisture, with which the Memory is assisted; and also the finest and most volatile of Those Spirits, of which that Dry­ness Partakes, which is serviceable to the Under­standing; and the Faculty, when destitute of these, grows flat and heavy. So that in Effect This is an Enemy to both the other Temperaments, and Ex­perience shews it to be Destructive of them.

5 From all that hath been said we may plainly see, that the Principal Temperaments, which serve, But Three of them. assist, and set the reasonable Soul on working, and which distinguish the Excellencies of the Mind, according to its Faculties, are Three, and cannot ex­ceed that Number. For Cold which is the Fourth, is of no significance at all; Hot, and Moist, and Dry only, can contribute to Mens Ingenuity. The Other is a sluggish, unactive Principle, and, instead of quickening, does only benumb and stupifie the Soul, and put a Stop to all its Motions. There­fore, when in reading some Authors, we find them recommending Cold, as of use to the Understand­ing, and saying, that Men of a Cold Brain, such as those of Melancholy Complexions, or under the Southern Climes, are Prudent, Wise, Ingenious and the like; we must not there understand the Word Cold in its Natural and most received Sense, but interpret it of a large Abatement and more moderate Degree of Heat only. For nothing can be more opposite to Wisdom, and a good Under­standing, than that Excess of Heat, which yet to [Page 118]the bettering of the Imagination, and refining the Fancy would be of great Importance. And ac­cording to the three Temperaments, of the Brain, there are three corresponding Faculties of the Rea­sonable Soul. But both the One, and the Other of these admit of several Degrees; and may be vari­ously subdivided, and distinguished.

6 The Principal Offices, to be discharged by the Understanding, and the different Qualifications of Men, The Facul­ties Sub­divided. with regard to it, are Three; To conclude tru­ly, To distinguish nicely, and To choose wisely. The Sciences that fall properly under this Faculty, are School-Divinity; The Speculative Part of Phy­sick, Logick, Natural and Moral Philosophy.

The Memory hath likewise Three Qualities to be distinguished by. For there is One sort of Memory, which easily receives Impressions, and easily loses them again. A Second, which quickly remembers, and seldom or never forgets; and a Third, where the Impression is hard to be made, and yet is pre­sently worn out again. The Sciences proper to this Faculty are Grammar, and the Theory of the Ci­vil Law, Dogmatical Divinity, Cosmography, and Arithmetick.

The Imagination abounds in Distinctions, and Differences are occasioned by it, much more than either the Memory or the Understanding is capable of. To this belong, after a more peculiar manner, Fanciful Inventions, Pleasant Conceits, Witty Jests, Sharp Reflections, Ingenious Repartees; Fictions and Fables, Figures and Comparisons, Propriety and Purity of Expression; and in a Word, All that Quaintness, and Elegance, and Easiness, which adorns Conversation, and becomes the Character of a Man of Sense, and Good Breeding. And there­fore we may range under this Division, Poetry, Eloquence, Musick, Correspondence, Harmony, and Proportion.

7 Now, from hence it appears, that Sprightliness, The Proper­ties of the several Fa­culties. Subtilty, Readiness of Parts, and all that which commonly goes by the Name of Wit, is to be imputed to the Warmth of Imagination. Solidity, Mature Judgment, and Truth to the Dryness of the Understanding. The Imagination is Active, and Blu­stering, and Busy; keeps all about it awake, and sets the other Faculties on work. The Understanding is a grave, sedate, and severe Action; The Me­mory acts not at all, but is purely Passive; and the manner of these Operations, seems to be thus. In the First Place, the Imagination collects together the Idea's and Figures of Things, not only such as are present by the conveyance and ministry of the five Senses; but those that are absent too, by the As­sistance of that Inward and Common Receptacle, called the Sensorium commune, where the Forms of them lie deposited. The Next thing in Order is to represent these to the Understanding (if that be thought fit) and then this Faculty takes them in­to Consideration; examines, digests, and makes a Judgment of them. When That is over, the Ima­gination lays them up carefully to be preserved in the Memory; (as a Man takes down a Memoran­dum in his Table-Book) that so they may be con­sulted, and made use of again, when any future Occasion shall call for them. Or if the Imagina­tion be not so disposed, then she commits these things into the Memory's Custody, without refer­ring them to the Understanding at all, and so the Second Branch of this Operation is wholly Super­seded. Now this Account informs us, that the Acts of Recollection, Representing to the Intelle­ctual Faculty, laying up in the Memory, and drawing out those Stores again for Use, are all of them Operations of the Imaginative Faculty. So that That Common Repository, the Internal Sense, (Reminiscence, as it is called) and Fancy, come [Page 120]within the Compass of This, and are not (as some pretend) Powers of the Mind, distinct and separate from it. And consequently there is no­thing in those Operations, that shou'd oblige us to quit the former Division, or allow more Facul­ties of the Reasonable Soul, than the Three al­ready insisted upon.

8 The Common People, who (to give them their due) are very seldom in the right, have an high Esteem, The Facul­ties compa­red toge­ther. and make a marvellous to do with Memo­ry, extolling This insinitely above the other Two; The only Reason whereof seems to be, that this hath more of Shew, is more pretending and for­ward, and makes a greater Noise in Conversation. Hence it is, that a Man whose Memory is well stored, is usually reputed a great Scholar; and that to pronounce one a Person of good Parts, you look no farther than his having a good Memory; as if Learning were to be preferr'd before Wisdom, which indeed comes infinitely short of it; and this Faculty from whence it is furnish'd, is the least valuable of all the Three; For it is consistent with great Folly, and insufferable Impertinence; and very rarely to be met with in any great De­gree, where the Person excels in Understanding and Wisdom; for the Temperaments indeed from whence they result, are contrary to one another. From this vulgar Errour, I suppose the impro­per Methods of teaching Children, to have taken their Rise; it being the Custom of Country-Schools almost every where, to follow them close with Tasks to be got by Heart (as they call it) that so they may be able to repeat, and quote things readily out of Books. Thus they stuff their Memories full, and load them with the Riches of other Men, without taking any care to awaken and whet the Understanding; to form or to re­fine the Judgment: Which, after all, is the most [Page 121]necessary part of Instruction, to shew them the true worth of their Natural Faculties, to draw out the Stores and Abilities of their own Mind, and by the Exercise and Improvement of their Home-Growth, to render them considerate, and wise, and qualify'd for all manner of Business. Accordingly we see, that many of your Scholars, which car­ry all Aristotle and Cicero in their Heads, are mere Prigs and Puts, and incapable of any management at all; and, that, (generally speaking) the World is led by the Nose, and all the weightiest Affairs of Governments entrusted with Men of little or no Learning. Which yet no doubt is of infinite Advantage, and wou'd render even the prudentest and cunningest Politicians, yet more capable than they are, if wisely instill'd, and well us'd. But then they must not (as the way of the World is) value themselves upon Other Men's Wis­dom; nor think it their Own, because they re­member it; but make it so, by digesting what they read, incorporating it with their own Thoughts, refining and improving upon it, and knowing how to convert it to the Use and Benefit of themselves and others. But to return; All Wise Men have given the Preference to the Understanding; and ad­mit it to be the most excellent and choicest Piece of Furniture belonging to the Mind. If this moves right, all the rest goes true, and the Man is wise; and if this be false, the whole Movement is out of Course. Imagination is the Second in Dignity; and Memory is the Last and Lowest.

9 The following Similitude may perhaps contri­bute something to our apprehending the true State of these Faculties, and the different Circumstances and Relations they are in, more perfectly. An Image of the Three Fa­culties. The Reasonable Soul then cannot be more painted to the Life, than by forming an Idea of it to our selves, as a Court of Judicature. Now in eve­ry [Page 122]such Court there are Three Degrees and Orders of Persons concern'd: The Uppermost and most Ho­nourable Order is the Bench of Judges; and here there is little or no Noise, but a World of Busi­ness and Dispatch: For they proceed calmly and quietly; and without any Hurry or Passion, try Causes, decide Controversies and Claims, make Decrees, and give the Final Determination to all Matters brought before them: This carries a very lively resemblance to the Understanding, which is the highest, the most honourable, and the judging Faculty of the Soul. The Second is the Bar, where the Council and the Attorneys are plac'd; and here is a world of Clutter, and Bawling, and Noise, but nothing done; for they can bring no­thing to an Issue; They make no Orders nor A­wards, pronounce no Sentences: All Their Busi­ness is only to discuss Matters, to plead the Cause, and to lay it before the Judge. This is a lively Picture of the Imagination, which is a loud, a blustering, and a restless Faculty; never lies still, not even then, when the Soul seems perfectly bound up in the profoundest Sleep; but is eternal­ly buzzing about the Brain, like a boyling Pot; and this can never six, or come to a peremptory Resolution in any thing. The Third and last De­gree is that of the Notaries, and Registers, and Clerks; where there is neither Noise nor Action: It is no part of their Concern which way things go; they are purely Passive; and all they have to do, is to make Entries of what passes in Court, and to take Care that the Records be faithfully kept, and ready to be produc'd upon occasion. This gives us no ill Idea of the Memory, and its Office.

10 The Action or Employment of the Soul is Know­ledge or Understanding; Its Opera­tions. and this is of Universal ex­tent: For the Mind is a House open to every [Page 123]Guest; a Subject ready to receive any Impression. As the Philosophers say the Primitive Matter is disposed to be moulded into any Forms; or as a Looking-Glass receives and reflects all Faces; so this Soul is capable of considering all things in­differently, be they Visible or Invisible, Univer­sals or Particulars; Objects of Sense or not, the Understanding is in at All. But (if we may be al­low'd to argue from the vast, and almost infinite Diversity of Opinions, and the still growing Doubts upon this Matter) it is acquainted with it self the least of any thing. This Knowledge is but dim and indirect: It is attained by Refle­ction only, and the Knowledge of other things brought home, and apply'd to it self: By which it feels, that it does understand, and thence infers a Power and Capacity of this kind. This seems to be the Method, by which our Minds attain to the Knowledge of Themselves. Almighty God, who is the Sovereign Mind, knows Himself first, and all things else in Himself: But Man, who is the last and lowest of all the Intellectual World, inverts that Order quite, and discerns other things before he can come to any Knowledge of Him­self; for His Mind is in Contemplation of Other Objects, (like the Eye in a Looking-Glass) which cannot work upon it self without the help of a Medium, and sees nothing at Home, while the Vi­sion is continu'd in a streight Line, but can do it by Reflection only.

11 But the great Difficulty to be enquir'd into upon this occasion, The manner of it. concerns the Manner of Ope­ration, and by what Method the Soul attains to the Knowledge of Things. The most receiv'd O­pinion is that deriv'd from Aristotle, importing, That the Mind understands and is instructed by the Senses: That it is naturally and of it self, a perfect Blank, a clean White Paper; and that [Page 124]whatever is written in it afterwards, must be di­ctated by the Senses, and cannot be convey'd thi­ther any other way.

But first of all, This is far from being Uni­versally true; for, (as was hinted before, and the Point referred hither for a farther Disquisition) there have been great Authorities of Philosophers, that the first Seeds of all Sciences, and Vertues, and necessary Knowledge, are originally sown in our Minds, and grafted there by Nature; so that Men may if they please, live very comfortably, and grow Rich out of their own Stock; and, provided they take but a little care to cultivate and cherish the kindly Beginnings, the Harvest will not fail to be plentiful, and abundantly to reward their Pains.

Again; That Opinion seems highly injurious to God and Nature, and taxes them with unreaso­nable Partiality: For upon these Terms the Ra­tional Soul is more sparingly dealt with, and left in a much worse Condition, than either the Ve­getative, or Sensitive, or any other Creature what­soever: For all These, as hath already been ob­serv'd, exercise their Functions readily, and are sufficiently instructed by their own Native Endow­ments, in all things necessary for their Purpose. Thus Beasts apprehend several Things without Ex­perience, and the Discipline of Sense: They make Inferences, so far as their Case requires, and con­clude Universals from Particulars: From the sight of One Man they know the Humane Shape where­soever they see it again;See Adv. upon Chap. XXIV. they are forewarn'd to avoid Dangers, even while invisible; and to fol­low after That which is agreeable and beneficial to Themselves, and their Young: And wou'd it not be a Reproach, or scandalous Blunder and Ab­surdity in Nature, if this Noble, this Divine Fa­culty, shou'd have no Provision at all of its own, [Page 125]but sent about a begging, and depend for mere Necessaries upon so mean, so frail Relief, as what the Senses are able to give?

Once more; How can we perceive that the Un­derstanding shou'd go to School to the Senses, and be taught by Them, who are not able to teach themselves? What precious Masters are these, whose utmost Knowledge goes no deeper than bare­ly the Accidents and Outsides of Things? For, as to the Natures, Forms, and real Essences of them, they know nothing at all of the Matter. And if This be the Case of Individual Substances, much less are they capable of penetrating into Universals, the dark and profound Mysteries of Nature, and all those things which do not affect the Sense at all.

Besides; If all Knowledge were deriv'd from the Senses, the Consequence of this (one would think) shou'd be, That They, whose Senses are the quick­est, strongest, and most discerning, wou'd always be the Persons most conspicuous for Ingenuity, and Learning, and Skill in Reasoning. But we frequently see it happen just contrary; that such People are the dullest, most stupid, and most in­capable of all others. Nay, some Persons have thought their Bodily Senses rather an Obstruction than any Advantage to their Improvement: And upon that Account have wilfully depriv'd them­selves of them, that so the Soul might be more expedite and free, and do her Business without Di­straction, when the Avocations and Disturbance of Sensible Objects were taken out of the way.

Now if this Matter be as I have represented it; you will ask perhaps, Why these things are not always perform'd by the Soul, and why not by every Man alike? What hinders that all should not be equally Wise and Knowing; but especial­ly, why it shou'd lie dormant, without be­ing reduc'd into act; Or, if it do act, how comes [Page 126]it to pass that its Operations are not always equal, that it goes about its Duty feebly, and performs its Functions much more lamely and imperfectly at one Season than at another? This is the Case even of the Wisest and most Capable Persons; and some are so miserably stupid, that the Intel­lectual Soul seems never to exert it self at all. Where it does, the Vegetative Soul is vigorous and active in Youth, and very weak in Old Age: It is then decay'd, and spent, and cannot repair the Losses of Nature, (those of Teeth especially.) Which yet it does with the greatest Ease imagina­ble, in Children and Young People. The Reasona­ble Soul, quite contrary, is evidently weaker in In­fancy, and Youth, and cannot exert it self then, as it does afterwards in riper Years, and old Age: This also performs some sort of Actions in some sorts of Distempers, which it hath not power to do in time of perfect Health: and Others again there are perform'd in time of Health, which it is utterly incapacitated for, when the Body labours under a Distemper.

Now all these Objections are insufficient: For, First of all, They who hold the Opinion I am now contending for, never pretend, that the Facul­ty and Power of Understanding is communicated to eve­ry Man in equal Proportions. They admit a very great Inequality; from whence that Ancient and Noble Aphorism became so usual in the Mouth of Philosophers, That the acting Intellect is given to very few; and this very Inequality they make use of, as an Argument to prove that Science does not proceed from Sense; since it is very manifest, ac­cording to what hath been urged already, that They who are most advantageously provided for in point of Sense, are oftentimes least so in point of Learning and Wisdom.

As to the Second part of the Objection, That these Functions are not always perform'd alike; The true Reason of this is certainly, The different Condition of those Instruments, which the Soul hath absolute occasion for, and constantly works by; for These neither are, nor can be at all times in the same Order and Disposition. Sometimes they are disturbed so as to be fit for no Business at all: And when they are not put out of their Course, by any accidental Interruption, yet, even in their Natural State, they are not qualify'd for all Business alike; nay they act in perfect Con­trariety, and cross, and interfere with one another. To express this now in as few Words, and as clear­ly as the thing will bear:

That Temperament of the Brain, which you have heard so much of already, is the next and imme­diate Instrument, by which the Soul is assisted and determin'd in her Actings. Now This is exceed­ing various and mutable; and at those Seasons when it serves well for one Function of the Soul, it obstructs and runs counter to another. In Youth it is Hot and Moist; and this Complication is extremely proper for strengthening the Vegetative Faculty; but it keeps the Rational one Weak and Low. On the other hand it is Cold and Dry in Aged People; and This is a convenient Temper for the Reasonable Soul, but highly prejudicial, and im­proper for the Vegetative. When this Tempera­ment of the Brain is soundly heated and refin'd by a high Fever, it is then accommodated to the Imaginative Faculty, and does Wonders in Inven­tion and Fancy; but this very Condition disables the Intellectual Faculty, and is the most opposite that can be, to Mature Deliberation, and sound Wis­dom and Judgment.

It is no part of my Intention, by all this Dis­course, to defraud the Senses of any part of the [Page 128]Commendation, which is their just due; but on­ly to prevent their ingrossing All, and assuming more than their due. 'Tis confess'd, that the Mind reaps great Advantage, and is very conveniently served by the Senses; especially in the beginning of its Contemplations, the first Hints and Occasi­ons, the Invention and new Discoveries of Things. But still we affirm, in vindication of the Mind's just Rights, that it does not depend upon the Sen­ses entirely; that it is capable of Knowledge and Understanding; can reason and discuss Matters, infer and conclude, without the Senses: Whereas, on the contrary, all Knowledge proceeds from the Mind; and the Senses, when left to themselves, cannot make the least Progress, nor have one single Perception without it.

12 It is farther observable, that the Mind proceeds in different Methods, and makes regular and gra­dual Advances in the Consideration of Things. Sometimes it proceeds by the Addition and Con­junction of Idea's: As first it conceives a Lion simply and directly, without attending to any of his Qualities: Then it adds the Idea of Strength to the former; and so having from some Effects had reason to believe that these will agree well together, and be true of each other, it concludes, that the Lion is Strong. This is what they call the Affirmative way of Arguing. Sometimes it pro­ceeds by the Division of Idea's, which is what they term the Negative way. Thus it understands the Hare to be Fearful; for observing her to run away and hide her self, it concludes from this Timo­rous Behaviour, that a Hare is not Stout. Some­times again we come to the Knowledge of things by Similitude, and the help of Comparison; and of Others by a Collection of several Idea's, Ex­aggerating and Amplifying these as we see fit. Other Methods there are, which need not be in­stanced [Page 129]in particularly, because any Man, from his own Observation, and what hath been already deliver'd here, may easily represent the manner of them to himself.

CHAP. XIV. Of the Parts of the Humane Soul: And first, of the Understanding, which is its noblest Function; Imagination, Reason, Wit, Judgment, &c.

THis Mind of Man is a dark and deep Abyss, an Intricate Labyrinth, full of Corners and Creeks, and secret lurking Places: Such is the Disposi­tion and State of this exalted part of the Soul, di­stinguish'd by the Term of Intellectual, which con­sists of vastly many Parts, and Faculties, and O­perations, and different Movements; each of which have their proper Names, and each of them infinite Doubts and Difficulties peculiar to them.

1 The First part of its Office is commonly known by the Name of Apprehension or Imagination; and this consists in barely receiving and apprehending Images and simple Idea's; which is indeed in the Nature of a Passion and Impression, occasion'd by the Presence of things that strike upon, or are re­presented to it.

2 The next is that Power by which we feed upon those Idea's, to which the Imagination hath given such Entertainment; we handle and turn them a­bout, chew the Cud, concoct and digest them; and this is Reason, or [...].

3 The Third Action or Office, is what we commonly term Discourse or Ratiocination ( [...], because [...]) And the Exercise of this Power consists in collecting or separating; joyning together, or ta­king asunder the Idea's thus received; and, ac­cording as those are found to agree or disagree, adding some fresh to them, which is the Nature of Inferen­ces, and Conclusions.

4 The Doing all this with Ease, Nicety, and Readiness, searching deeper, and seeing farther in­to Matters than the World commonly do, is an Excellence known by the Name of Penetration, or Sagacity; (Ingenium) and the Persons happy in it, are distinguished, by the Titles of Ingenious, shrewd, sharp Men, Persons of good Parts, good Sense, and the like.

5 The bringing things over again, allowing them a Second Thought, and applying the Touch-Stone to them over and over, that our Disquisition may be as Curious and Elaborate as possible, and nothing may pass, but what we are well assur'd is true Standard; this is Judgment; and its Business is to go upon sure Grounds, and come to no Resoluti­ons, but such as one may abide by.

6 The Effect Lastly of the Understanding, thus ex­ercised is, as you perceive, Knowledge, Speculative Wisdom, and Resolution.

7 The Action, which follows next, and is a Natu­ral Consequence of such Knowledge and Resolu­tion, is that of the Will, or Volition; by which the Mind reaches forward, and makes some Advances, towards the Object so known.

8 Now, from hence I think it follows, that the Essence of all these Things is the same; and the Operations of them only are different. That is, Understanding and Imagination, and Reason, and Discourse, and Penetration, and Judgment, and Wisdom, and Resolution, are only so many [Page 131]several Methods, by which the same Mind moves, and exerts it self. And accordingly we find some Persons better disposed to one of these Ways, than they are to others; a Man for Instance, shall be Excellent for Quickness and readiness of Wit, and yet very Weak and Childish with Re­spect to his Judgment. Every Man hath all these Powers inherent in his Mind; but every Man hath them not alike, nor is alike qualify'd for the Exer­cise of them all.

2 I am well enough content to hear the Characters and Lofty Commendations of the Soul of Man; Descripti­on of the Mind. Its Advan­tage. and take great Delight in the Account of its Com­prehension, and Sprightliness, and vast Abilities. I allow it to be called, the Image of the Living God; a Drop of the Fountain of Immortality, an Efflux of the Divinity, a Beam of Heavenly Light; That the Great Creator hath furnished it with Reason, by which, as by a living Rudder, this Vessel may steer its Course Regularly; That it is an Instrument most exquisitely Harmonious; That by it we contract a great Resemblance, and have the Honour of be­ing near of Kin to God; and that therefore he hath so disposed the Seat and Situation of this Mind, that it should be in a perpetual Disposi­tion of looking upward, to the Place of its Birth. In a Word, I agree, that there is nothing in this lower World truly Great, but only Man; and no­thing truly Noble in Man, but his Mind; that if you come up to the utmost Height of this, you have climbed Higher than the very Heavens Themselves: These Characters I consent to very heartily, and they are such as the Schools, and Chairs of Philosophers and Divines have com­monly abounded in; with a Design to render Men duly Sensible of the Dignity of their Nature, and to teach them not to debase or undervalue them­selves.

2 All This, I say, is admitted; but still with this Proviso, Its Disad­vantages. that Men would apply themselves withal, to examine, and come to a more distinct Knowledge of This Soul of ours. For upon a more intimate Acquaintance, we shall find, that it is capable of being made, and (as the Matter is commonly order'd) does actually prove an Instrument of much Danger and Mischief to ones self and others; a Terrible Disturber of the publick Peace; which like a Common Juggler, with his Legerdemain, amuses you with Slight of Hand; and waits all Opportunities of putting the Cheat upon you. For in Truth all the Falsehood, and Forgery, and Mischief, that the World labours under, are owing purely to This, and have no other Original.

3 The Bodies of Men, as infinitely various as we see them, Disterent sorts of Souls. are yet less different from one another than their Souls are: In general, They may pro­perly enough be reduced into Three Classes; each of which is capable of being subdivided again, and hath several Distinctions and Degrees comprehend­ed under it. The Lowest of these are poor, and weak Souls, not much remov'd from that of Brutes. And this Defect may be caused, sometimes from the Faults and Imperfections of the Natural Con­stitution; Too great a Predominance of Cold and Moisture in the Temperament of the Brain; as Fishes, whose Composition is of this kind, are reckoned the Lowest and most wanting of all o­ther Animals: This Infirmity is born with us, and deriv'd from our Parents. Sometimes it is Chargeable upon accidental Failings afterwards: Want of due Care to awaken, and exert the Natural Powers, and letting them rust upon our Hands, till they Degenerate into Senselessness and Stupidity; Of these we can make no certain Ac­count, nor can they be esteemed a certain Species; For in Truth they are not in a Condition to go­vern [Page 133]themselves as Men, but are Minors and Igno­rants all their Days, and ought to be constantly kept under the Tuition and Care of others, Wiser than themselves.^* They snore and nod with their Eyes open; and while they seem to live and act, are dead in the very midst of Life; Moving Car­kasses, and Men that walk in their Sleep. Such are the Boors and Common People, without Sense, without Apprehension, without Judgment. The Uppermost Class are those Elevated, and Singularly Excellent Souls, that seem rather to be Angels and Demi-Gods, than Common and Mortal Men; Strong and Vigorous, and every way Accom­plished; These are conspicuous, and admirable in­deed, but so rare and few withal, that if we could bring all of them together that ever the World knew, this long and numerous Succession could not fur­nish enough to compose one Common-Wealth. The Middle Sort, is Infinite in Partitions and Degrees, Men of moderate Endowments, refin'd from the Dregs, but still beneath the Cream and Flower of Humane Nature. And These take in much the great­est Part of Mankind. Of those Distinctions, there will come a more proper Time to treat more larg­ly hereafter. In the mean while, we must try to give a more particular Description of this Soul, with Regard to its Nature, and Qualities, which yet are so intricate, and manifold, that it is as hard to represent them truly, as it would be to draw [...]a Picture like, from a Face that is always in Motion.

5 First of all; We may observe, that it is perpe­tually in Action The Soul indeed cannot live Idle, Its Descri­ption. A perpetu­al Agent. for to be doing somewhat is its very Essence; and hence it is, that for fear of lying quite Unactive, it employs it self in false and fantastical Imagina­tions, [Page 134]forms a Thousand wild Idea's, will study to cheat and deceive it self, and go directly con­trary to its own Knowledge and Persuasion, rather than be out of Business. Like Fallow and neglected Grounds, which must always be kept sown with some Grain or other, if the Soil be Rich and Fruit­ful; otherwise they will provide themselves a Harvest, and put forth vast Crops of wild and noxious Weeds. Thus the Mind, if it be not set on Work, and kept close to some particular Sub­ject, turns Vagabond, wanders and floats among a Thousand Whimsies; there is nothing so Foolish, or so Extravagant, but it will produce it. And if it be not fix'd down, it is lost; for to be every where, is in Truth to be no where. Agitation is indeed the very Life and Beauty of the Soul, but then this Agitation ought to be directed and prescribed; found for it by another Hand, but by no means left to its own providing. Suffer it to go all alone, and on its own Head, it santers about and tires its self to no Purpose; languishes and grows Feeble. And yet the other Extreme is every whit as Dange­rous; for if you hold it too high, and lay too much upon it, This is keeping the Bow always bent. Constant intense Thought, is what cannot be born; it strains and puts the Mind upon the Stretch, till at last it cracks, and breaks it.

6 This Agent is also Universal, and in at every thing. An Uni­versal Agent. No Subject whatsoever, No Topick is out of its Compass; let the Farce be what it will, the Soul will have a Part in it, though it be never so low, or so extravagant. The vainest and most tri­fling Matter will serve its Turn to work upon, as well as that of the greatest Consequence and Weight; Things, which it knows not, nor hath any Comprehension of, as well as those, with which it is never so well acquainted. For even the being made Sensible, that it is out of a Man's Power to enter [Page 135]deep, and search things to the Bottom, and that in many, (in most Cases indeed) all the Know­ledge we can have, is merely Superficial, and goes no farther than just the Shell, and Out-side of Things; The very Coming to this Sense, I say, is a very brave and bold Stroke, and argues a Masterly Judgment. Learning, nay, Truth it self may be found in a Man that wants Judgment, and many may have a good Judgment too, who are unskill'd in Learning and Books, and under some Mistakes, as to particular Opinions. But for a Man to see, and to acknowledge his own Igno­rance and personal Defects; to pretend to no more than he really hath, and is; this single Quality argues so much Judgment, that there are few bet­ter Testimonies to be given of it.

7 A Third Character very considerable in this Agent is, the Nimbleness of its Motions; whereby it traverses the whole World, and runs from the one End of it to the other, in a Moment of Time; Ready and quick in its Motions. never standing still, never at rest; but fluttering about, and peeping and medling every where. ^* Man is endued with a busy, active, Mind; that ne­ver keeps at home; but expands and dilates it self; wanders every where, cannot bear any Rest, and is ne­ver so agreeably entertain'd as with Novelties, and fresh Objects. Nor is it strange; For this Mind of ours is descended from that Celestial Spirit above; and Motion, we know, is so natural there, that the Heavenly Be­ings, are never out of it. This mighty Quickness and Agility must be confessed in one respect Pro­digious, and one of the most Miraculous Quali­fications belonging to the Soul. But on the o­ther [Page 136]ther hand, it is very dangerous too; For Spirits so exceeding subtle and refin'd, are liable to great Inconveniences; and an Excellence of this kind is observed to be a mighty Disposition to Folly, and borders hard upon Madness, as you will hear by and by.

Upon the Consideration of these Three Qualities it is that the Arguments for the Immortality of the Soul are usually grounded. Since Matter (which is corruptible by Nature) hath none of these; and what is not Material, no reason in Philosophy can evince to be Mortal. Now an Agent in per­petual Motion is very distant from Matter, to which Rest seems natural, since it neither does, nor ever can move it self. An unlimited and Universal Agent differs extremely from Matter, which is cramped and confin'd in all its Operations, and proper only for one, or a few; but always the same Matter can serve only some and the same determinate uses: And That again which is sud­den and instantaneous, which is bounded by no Time, no Place, but carries its Thoughts to the most dist [...]nt Objects with equal Swiftness as to those that are nearest: This sure is most contrary to Matter, whose Motions are local and gradual, bound up by necessary Laws, and proportion'd by the respective Distances of the several Objects. Consequently This Mind is something above Mat­ter and Mortality, a Spark of Divine Fire, and the express Image of that Active and Omnipresent Spi­rit, which we call GOD.

8 Now the Trade and constant Employment of this Soul, Its Employ­ment. is to be perpetually upon the seek, fer­retting, and doubling, and hot in the pursuit of Knowledge, as of its proper Food. This Appetite and Hunger for the Truth, makes Men eternally prying, and curious, and inquisitive; which made the Greek Poets call Men [...], a sort of Crea­ture [Page 137]whose Thoughts and Inventions are always at work. Nor is there any End of our Enquiries; for they are circumscrib'd within no Bounds, nor regulated by any Forms and Measures. Doubts and Difficulties are the Sustenance we live upon; and the Principle within us is a perpetual Motion. The whole World is our School, and our Theme, and, which is particular to the Case now before us, We labour for labour's sake; The Chace and Pur­suit is not so much our Toil, or our Diversion, as it is our Game, and our Prey: For the succeed­ing, or not succeeding in our Disquisition, is a thing of another and very different Considera­tion.

9 But still, in the midst of all this busie Curiosity, it is rash, tumultuous, and disorderly,Its manner of working. observes no certain Rules and Measures, but is eternally roving, and variable, and inconsistent with it self: 'Tis a perfect Nose of Wax, that bends every way, stretches it self to any length, is accommodated to all Forms, more supple and yielding than Water or Air.^* Thus justifying the Character given of it, that as a Spirit is more refin'd and subtle, so it is likewise more flexible and yielding than any the thinnest Matter whatsoever. Of this Theramenes his Shooe was the true Emblem, which fitted Feet of all Sizes. All it is at a loss for is, only for some Contrivance how to turn and change with some Appearance of Probability; for when This is once found, it moves every way, takes all sides, crosses and contradicts it self, and ar­gues for Truth or Falshood indifferently.

10 Thus Reason sports wantonly, and invents or entertains Arguments for the widest and most di­stant Contrarieties. Nothing so extravagant, no­thing [Page 138]so absurd, but hath found its Assertors and Abettors: And this not only in the fanciful Con­ceits of private Persons, but in the more general Sense, and Agreement of large Societies and Com­munities. Thus History tells us, that what is de­tested as Impious, Unjust, and Unnatural in one Country, hath been receiv'd with Veneration, and practised as highly Decent, and a Duty, nay even esteem'd an Act of Religion in another. And there are not many Laws, or Customs, or Opi­nions, which we can say have universally ob­tain'd, or have been every where rejected. The Marriages of near Relations Some condemn as Ince­stuous; but Others have not only allow'd, but re­commended, nay in some Cases even enjoyn'd them. The Murdering of Infants, and of Parents, when old and decrepid, and the having Wives in com­mon, are now, and in our parts of the World, lookt upon as barbarous and execrable; but the Worshippers of Moloch, we know, thought their Children the most acceptable Sacrifice; and if Herodotus, and some other Historians, say true, the Scythians thought the other not only innocent, but a Mark of Tenderness and Respect; and ne­ver pretended to any Propriety in a Marriage-Bed. When Dionysius offer'd Plato a rich Embroider'd Robe, he refus'd it, with this Reason for his de­nyal, That it was not fit for a Man to be so effeminately clothed; And yet Aristippus, another Philosopher, accepted it; and he had his Reason for That too, which was, That no External Ha­bit cou'd corrupt the Mind; and that the Soul might still be Masculine and Chaste, though the Body were attir'd in Clothes never so Soft and Effeminate. The Dialogue between this last Philo­sopher and Diogenes, each vindicating his own manner of Living, and reflecting upon the others [Page 139]that differ'd from him, is thus represented by Horace ^*

Creech, Epist. XVIIWhen Solon was mourning, and full of lamenta­tion for the Death of his Son, a Friend advised him to moderate his Passion, since Tears upon that occasion are unprofitable, and to no purpose; That very Consideration, says Solon, excuses my Excess of Grief; for what can justifie a Man's Concern, what can provoke Tears so much as the Thought that all our Sorrow is Fruitless and Vain? Socrates his Wife pretended this Aggravation of her Grief, that the Judges had condemn'd him un­justly: Nay sure, (reply'd he) if a Man must suffer, it is infinitely more eligible to die inno­cent, than to deserve Condemnation. One Phi­losopher tells you, That a Man is truly possest of nothing which he is not prepared to lose. ^† For the Fear that a thing may be lost, is a Passion eve­ry whit as tormenting as the Concern for it when actu­ally lost. Another, who passes for as Wise a Man as He, comes and tells you quite contrary; That the Uncertainty of what we have, and the Apprehension of its being taken away from us, heightens and gives a Relish to our Enjoy­ments, by disposing us to hold the Blessings faster and closer to our Hearts, and rendring us more affectionate and tender of them. A Cynick beg­ged [Page 140]of Antigonus, that he wou'd bestow a Drachm of Silver upon him; No, says the King, So small a thing is not a Present fit for a Prince to give: Then, Sir, be pleased to give me a Talent: Nor that neither, says Antigonus; For a Talent is a Summ as much too great for a Philosopher to receive. A certain Person was extolling a King of Sparta for his exceeding great Goodness and Cle­mency; and the Instance he gave of it, was, That he was kind even to the Wicked and Un­worthy: And this argu'd a great Degree of Goodness in him. So far from that, says ano­ther, that according to this Account he is no Good Man, for no Prince can be so, who is not severe to the Wicked. Thus you may ob­serve, how many different Faces Reason puts on, and what a Two-edg'd Sword it is, which with dex­trous Management will cut both ways.^* Every Medal hath its Reverse, says the Proverb. There is nothing said, but hath somewhat to be said a­gainst it, says the soundest Philosophy; and a Man might demonstrate the Truth of it upon any Subject in the World.

11 Now this great Variety and Flexibility may be imputed to several Causes: It may come from that perpetual Flux of Humours, and variable Constitution of the Body, which is so great, so constant, that a Man is never exactly the same in this respect at any two times of his whole Life. It may be charg'd upon that infinite Va­riety of Objects that offer themselves to his Con­templation; It may proceed from the Temper of the Air, the Difference of Weather, of Climates and Seasons; for, as was observ'd before,

And a Thousand other external Causes may con­tribute to it. But if we come nearer home, and look within, much may be laid upon the several sorts of Motion, which the Mind is put into, both by its own natural and constant Agitation, and by the different Impressions, which the Pas­sions make upon it. Much also may be argu'd from the different manner of the Object's being represented to it, according to the different Pro­spects taken of them: For in this respect it hap­pens to the Eye of the Mind, as it does to that of the Body, that no two Persons see the same thing exactly, and in all respects alike. Their Situation, their Organs, and infinite other little unobserv'd Accidents there are, that make some, though per­haps not so great a Diversity as to be discern'd in the Act of Vision. Besides; every thing we know hath different Glosses and Faces, and is capable of being consider'd under different respects; which was Epictetus's meaning, when he said, That every thing hath two (he might very truly have said a great many) Handles. ‘But after all, nothing adds more to this Ambiguity, and variety of Opinions, than that Spirit of Contradiction and Dispute, and a vain Affectation of Wit, general­ly predominant in the World, which lets no­thing pass quietly in Conversation; and accounts it a Reflexion upon one's Parts, not to have somewhat to say by way of Repartee and Ob­jection, though never so contrary to Truth, and sometimes even to the Person's own Judgment [Page 142]too. And hence it is frequent for such People to take contrary Sides; for their Business is not so much to advance an Opinion, or to urge what is really Argument and Good Sense, as to shew their Talent in opposing what any Body else shall say.’

12 From hence it comes to pass, that the Mind obstructs it self in its Business, like Silkworms that are intangled in Webs of their own spinning: For while it reaches forward, and expects to at­tain some distant Truth, and is led on in this Hope by I know not what imaginary Probabilities; in the midst of his Course, up start some fresh Difficulties, and these multiply and cross the way upon the Man, and so by putting him upon a new Scent, carry him off from (his first Design, till he is quite intoxicated, and bewildred in the Maze of his own Thoughts.

13 The End of all this anxious Pursuit is two-fold; That which is more general,Truth, its End, but not attain­able. and more natural in­deed, is Truth: For of all the Desires that we feel our selves moved with, there is not any of them more closely interwoven with our Nature, than the Desire of Truth: It is with great Eagerness and Diligence that we try all the Means capa­ble of leading us to the Knowledge of it; but alas! our utmost Attempts are short and insuffici­ent; for Absolute Certainty is not a Prize allotted to us; nor does it condescend to be taken, and possessed by any the most assiduous Humane Soul. Truth lodges in the Bosom of God; there is its Re­treat and proper Apartment; Men understand not any thing in its utmost Perfection; We know in part, and here we see through a Glass darkly, says the Foun­tain of all Truth. We turn and tumble Objects about, and grope like Men in the Dark for pro­bable Reasons; but these are to be found every where; and Falshood as well as Truth hath some­what [Page 143]to be alledg'd in its behalf. We are born in­deed to search and seek for Truth, but the En­joyment of it seems to be a Blessing reserv'd for some greater and more exalted Powers than any that Mortals are endu'd with. ‘That is the Hap­piness of Beings above us at present, and is re­serv'd for Mankind in a future State, till he be purify'd from the Dross of Matter, and Flesh, and Infirmity; and the Clouds that now hang before us, and dim our Sight, be scatter'd by Clear and Everlasting Day.’ At present the Dif­ference between one Man and another, is not who reaches the Goal, and gains the Prize, and who not; but who is distanced, and who not; who runs best, and makes the nearest Approaches to that which none of us All can come up to. If at any time it happens that a Man in the study of Nature fixes upon Truth, This is more by a lucky Hit than otherwise; and his good Fortune is to be extoll'd as much as his Industry; and when he hath it, 'tis odds if he can keep it; for many times a Man suffers it to be wrested out of his Hands again by Sophisms, and Delusions, and contrary Appearances, for want of being Ma­ster of his Point, and able to distinguish Truth from Falshood, and Reality from the Counterfeit. Errours are entertain'd by the same way that Truth is; the Passage by which both enter our Souls, is one and the same; The Methods made use of for discovering it, are Reason and Experi­ence: And both These are extremely weak and defective, floating and uncertain, hard to fix, and changeable upon every slight occasion, when we think they are sixed. The great Argument of Truth is That of Universal Consent. But what will all this amount to, when a Man hath consider'd, what a vast Majority of Fools there are, and how very few Wise Men in the World? And again, [Page 144]To any one that observes how Opinions spread, and become general: Men take them from one another, as they do Diseases, by Infection: And Applause is that Breath that corrupts the Air, and bears about the Venom: This Applause again is given commonly blindly and inconsiderately, by them who never examine into the true Merits of the Cause; and by them too, who if they do pretend to examine, are not capable of judging in the Case. And thus, when some few have be­gun the Dance, the rest have nothing to do but to fall in with the Tune, and follow them that lead it up of Course.

14 The other End aim'd at by the Mind, is In­vention; Invention. which if it have less of Nature, yet hath more of Ambition and bold Pretension in it: This is aspir'd to, as its highest Point of Ho­nour, that which makes most Shew to the World, and contributes most to its Reputation; That which it looks big with, and thinks the liveliest Image of the Divine Nature: It is this particu­lar Accomplishment, to which all those noble Works have owed their Original, which have fill'd the World with Transport and Wonder. And those that have been of Publick Use among them, have even Deify'd their Authors, and im­mortaliz'd their Names. What Renown have some gain'd, that were mere Curiosities, only for being eminent in their Kind, though no Be­nesit at all accrued to Mankind by their means? Such as Zeuxis's Vine, Apelles's Venus, Memnon's Statue, the Colosse at Rhodes, Archytas's Wooden Pigeon, the Sphere of Sapores King of Persia, and infinite others. Now the Excellence of Art and Invention seems to consist not only in a good I­mitation of Nature, but in outdoing it. This of­ten happens in particular Instances; for no Man nor Beast seems ever to have been so exquisitely [Page 145]formed in all its Parts, nor the Proportions of any one and the same Body, to have met together of Nature's Composition, so exact as these Artists have delineated, and represented them in Their Pieces. There are likewise several Improvements and Exaltations of Nature, in producing and com­pounding those things by Art, which Nature a­lone never produces. This is plain from the Mixtures of Simples and Ingredients, which is the proper Business for Art to exercise it self in; the Extraction of Spirits and Oyls, and Distillation of Waters, and compounding of Medicines more refin'd, more powerful and efficacious, than any Nature furnishes us with. And yet after all, These things are not so wonderful, nor do they com­mend Humane Wisdom and Industry so highly, as the generality of the World are apt to ima­gine: For, if we will pass that Judgment in this Matter, which is agreeable to Truth and Duty, and pay a just Deference and Acknowledgment to the First Author, These are but Imitations, and not properly Inventions; They are Improvements, but they only promote and perfect what God hath first revealed. And what we commonly va­lue and extol as our own Original Contrivance, is nothing more than observing the Works of Na­ture, arguing and concluding from what we find there, and then reducing those Observations into Practice. Thus Painting and Optiques were first rude and imperfect Hints, taken from Shades; and the Perfection they are now in, consists only in a due, and proper, and beautiful Mixture of Co­lours, which makes those Shades. The Art of Dyalling comes from the Shadows cast by Trees; and what they do in our Fields, we do upon our Planes; They are Nature's Measure of the Sun's Motion, and the Gnomon is Ours. Sculpture, and Engraving of Seals, and Characters, and [Page 146]Cyphers, seems to be derived from the particular Marks, and Figures, and Embossings found in Pre­cious Stones. And if This be allowed, the re­sult of all our Boasts is very poor; for it all ter­minates here, That Man (in truth, and strictly speaking) hath invented nothing, but God and Nature give the Hints and first Draughts of all, and We improve, and by degrees refine upon them.

15 If all that went before be true, The Dan­gers it ex­poses us to. we easily per­ceive to what Rashness and Errour the Mind of Man is subject, and how great the Dangers are which it exposes every one of us to; but those Men above all the rest, in whom it is more spright­ly and vigorous than ordinary: For, since the Nature of it is perpetual Agitation, since its Mo­tions are so free and unconstrain'd, and since all kind of Objects sall within its Contemplation; since it refuses to be bound up, or directed by any certain Forms and Measures; and upon all Oc­casions is so bold in the Use of its Native Li­berty, without submitting to be captivated and controuled by any thing: The common and na­tural Essect of this is, to shake and dissettle O­pinions generally receiv'd, and already establish'd, and to complain of all those Rules by which Men endeavour to regulate and restrain it, and check those Extravagancies which some Men call Free-Thinking, as an unjust Tyranny and Usurpati­on upon Nature, and a Yoke which every Man hath a right to break. Hence it pretends a Privi­lege of taking nothing for granted, but assumes a Power of examining every thing; and pronounces the greatest part of these Notions which are en­tertain'd and approv'd by the generality of the World, to be no better than Vulgar Errors, ridicu­lous and absurd Prepossessions. It sinds some ap­pearance [Page 147]of Reason on every side; and because nothing above a bare Probability is to be found, it believes nothing certain. Some Notions may have more, and some less; but all have some Al­legations in their Favour: And by indulging these sort of Ambiguities, it is to be fear'd, that at last Men are lost in a Labyrinth, give All up, and sit down in Doubt and Scepticism. That thus it often hath happen'd is too manifest; and as evident, that this is commonly the Disease of warm and witty Men, who trust to their own Sufficiency, and have brisker Parts than their Neighbours; (such as,Par. II. according to our former Scheme, may deserve a place toward the upper part of the middle Class of Souls.) For such as these, we commonly find by experience, are more loose in their Principles, more particular in their Opinions, more extrava­gant and disorderly in their Manners, than any o­ther sort of Men whatsoever. There are but very few of this Constitution, sit to be left to their own Conduct; or who know how to manage their Abilities to their own Safety and Advan­tage, and how to let their Judgments run beyond the common establish'd Opinions, without plung­ing out of their Depth, and paying dear for their Rashness. A great and sprightly Wit, well tem­per'd with Solidity and Discretion, is now so hard to be found, that it is almost a Miracle a­mong Men. For This is an Edged-Tool, and apt to do great Mischief, if it be not in a very Wise Man's Hand: 'Tis like a nimble Sayler without Balast, whose Swiftness does but hasten its Ruine, and drive it so much the sooner upon Rocks and Shelves. And if History be enquired into, all the Disorders in the State, Heresies in the Church, Revolts in Armies, Parties and Factions of every kind, will be generally found to have taken their Rise from [Page 148]such Authors as These.^* Great Errors (says one) have never sprung from any but great Wits; Nothing is more prejudicial, more detestable to true Wisdom, than too much Smartness of Parts. No doubt That Man hath a better time on't, lives longer, enjoys more Ease and Happiness, and is better qualify'd for Government, (says Thucydides) who is but moderately, or not so much as moderately, provi­ded in point of Natural Parts, than He, who hath a very Noble and Transcendent Elevation of Soul: For This Temper commonly is good for nothing, but to create Trouble and Torment, and never let one's self, nor others, live in quiet. It is ob­servable, that the dearest Friends, when they fall out, make the Bitterest and most Irreconcileable Enemies: And, that the soundest Health, and most vigorous Constitutions, are subject to the acutest and most mortal Diseases; and our Minds do so far sympathize with our Bodies, that Those of them, whose Operations are more quick and sub­tle than ordinary, are of all others most exquisite in their Follies, and have the strongest propension to Madness and Extravagance. Wisdom and Folly may be said to dwell pretty near one another; There is but a short Turn between them; The Behavi­our of distracted People plainly shews it. Philoso­phy tells us, the same predominance of Humours disposes to both; for each abounds in Melancholy. And sure there is no Folly comparable to That, which we find is the effect of Nice and Subtle Wisdom. This mov'd Aristotle to affirm, That Nature never made a great Soul without an Alloy of Folly; and Plato upon the same Account declar'd, That it was a vain Attempt for a Man of good Judg­ment, and sound Sense, to knock at the Door of Poetry; [Page 149]That was not a Place for such as him to be ad­mitted into; The Solidity of his Judgment wou'd hinder the Soaring of his Fancy. And upon this Consideration it is, that the most skilful and cele­brated Poets have not always thought it necessary to submit to Rules, but approve of extravagant Flights, and the giving one's self a Loose now and then. Thus we may understand those known Say­ings,^* It is pleasant to fly out. Creech, Hor. Ode XII. Lib. IV. 'Tis decent sometimes to be vain. While the Mind continues it self, its Per­formances are mean: Great and Noble Thoughts require a vehement Agitation to give them Birth.

16 Upon this account, The necessity of re­straining it They were certainly in the right, who have set strong Barriers and Boundaries about the Soul. The necessity of curbing and fettering it with all manner of Restraints, with the Articles and Precepts of Religion, with the Authority of Laws and Customs, the Rules and Sciences of Learning, the Promises of Reward, and Threat­nings both in This and a Future State; This Ne­cessity, I say, hath been well consider'd both by God and Man; And great indeed it is; for not­withstanding all these Checks, the Soul hath its Frolicks and Flyings-out still; and in these Hu­mours it leaps over, and bursts through all; so ex­ceeding fierce and intractable, so head-strong and self-conceited is it naturally: And therefore Art must manage, and make it tame, for Force is to no purpose at all.^† The Mind of Man (says Se­neca) is naturally stiff and rebellious, continually bending the wrong way, and bearing hard upon the Bit; and is easier led than driven, as high-mettled Horses are [Page 150]better ridden with a Snassle than with a Curb. It is a much safer Course to keep it under the Custo­dy of a Guardian, to sooth and gently lay this indiscreet Minor asleep, than to let him have his Head, and ramble abroad at his own Pleasure, and go his own Pace. For, if the Mind be not very regular and prudent, as well as very lively and strong, (the Conjunction of which Qualities make that happy Disposition of Souls, of the first and highest Order) or if it be not weak, and tender, and somewhat dull of Apprehension, (which were said to be the Characters of the last and lowest Set) there is great hazard of its losing and ruining it self by the Freedom it takes of Exa­mining and judging Things, and submitting to no Prescription or Authority. And therefore very expedient it is, that it shou'd be put under some Consinement; and if it go abroad, that it be du­ly and conveniently equipp'd: For there is great­er need of a Clog, than of Wings; and of a streight Rein, than of a Spur: The Advice of Phoebus to his Son;

That Advice is necessary here too; otherwise This, like another Phaeton, and his Steeds ungovern'd, wou'd set the World on Fire. The Prevention of that Inconvenience, is what hath been chiefly aim'd at by all those Great Men, who have ei­ther modell'd Mankind into particular Societies at first, or devis'd Laws for them ever since. And this sort of Men are the very Persons, with whom both the Founders and the Governors of States [Page 151]have been most of all perplex'd. For the common People, and those of meaner Capacities, are gene­rally more Peaceably disposed, than those whom Wit and Parts make Thoughtful and Busy, and con­sequently Factious and Troublesome. The general Genius of a People is very Remarkable to this Purpose; for in the single City of Florence, who are a Sharp-Witted People, there have been more Seditions, and Civil Confusions, within the Com­pass of Ten Years, than have been known among all the honest dull Suisses and Grisons for above Five Hundred Years together. And just so it is with particular Persons in the same Community: They that have but a bare Competency of Understanding, are generally the honestest Men, the best Subjects; more flexible, and tractable, more contented to submit to the Laws, to be commanded by their Superiours, to hearken to Reason, and be governed by it, than these brisk and discerning Sparks, whose Parts and Penetration are above being controuled by Power or Persuasion, and put them upon new Hazards and Projects, and will not let them con­tent themselves with their own Business, and sleep in a whole Skin. So very wide a Difference there is between Wit and Wisdom.

17 The Mind hath likewise its Defects, Decays and Diseases, as well as the Body, and indeed the Num­ber of these is greater,The Def [...]ct, of the Mind. the Consequence of them more Dangerous, and the Cure of them more Difficult and Impracticable, than that of Bo­dily Distempers. For the better understanding of these, it is Necessary to distinguish them into their several Sorts. Now some of these are purely Ac­cidental, and fall upon it from outward Causes. Among which we may take Notice of Three more especially.

The First is, The State and Disposition of the Body. Accidental. For Diseases, which make any Alteration in the [Page 152]Temperament of the Body, do manifestly carry their Influence farther, and produce a mighty Al­teration in the Mind, and impair the Judgment at the same time. Sometimes the Substance of the Brain is not of a good Composition,From the Body. and so the Organs of the Soul are not in a Condition to do their Duty. And this again happens either from a Fault in the First Formation, as in Them who have an Ill-shap'd Head, too little, or too round; or else from some accidental Hurts, afterwards, as many have suffered extremely in their Reason and Memory, by Falls, and Blows, and Wounds upon their Head.

For The Second Cause of these Defects,Prejudi­cate Opi­nions. we may assign that Universal Infection of common and popular Opinions, entertained in the World; With which the M [...]nd is tinctured early, and these take Pos­session, and usually keep it obstinately. Or which is yet worse, sometimes wild and fantastical De­lusions have been drunk in, and with these the Mind is so strongly seasoned, so grossely cheated, that They are not only not dismiss'd, but made the Rule of our Judgments, and the Measure of Truth in other Cases. All is brought to this Standard; and receiv'd or rejected, as it agrees or disagrees with it. Here the Man sixes his Foot, and will not be got one Step backward or forward. The Instances of this kind among the Vulgar are In­finite; most of whom are guided by some fan­tastical Notion, some erroneous Conceit, that hath grown up, and is like to live and die with them. And indeed when these Fancies or Opini­ons are common, they are like a strong Torrent; Every Body hath not Force and Vigour of Mind enough to stem it, and keep himself from being carried down the Stream with his Neighbours.

The Third,Passions. and That which sticks much the closest to it of all the rest, is the Sickness and Cor­ruption [Page 153]of the Will, and the Inordinacy and Strength of the Passions. And in this Case, the Soul is a World turn'd upside-down. The Will is made by Nature to follow the Directions of the Understand­ing; This is its Guide to Instruct; Its Candle to give it Light; but when once the Strength of Passion hath corrupted, and as it were laid vio­lent Hands upon the Will, then the Will, in like manner, corrupts, and commits a Violence upon the Understanding. And from this disorderly Pro­cedure it is, that the greatest Part of our false Judgments grow. Envy and Malice, and Love, and Hatred, and Fear, make us see things with o­ther Eyes; and take them for what they really are not; and draw such Conclusions, and Infe­rences from them, as they minister no Just Ground for. From whence it is, that we so often are ad­monish'd, and do admonish others, to Judge with­out Passion. This puts us upon all those base and black Interpretations, by which we labour to e­clipse the virtuous Behaviour, and generous Acti­ons of other Men; Hence we study and invent Causes, and Intentions, for them, and, of our own Malice, assign vain and wicked Motives and Occa­sions for what they do. This is a most abominable Vice, and an evident Proof of great Malignity in our Nature, and of a diseased Mind; There is no great Matter of Wit or Judgment shewn in such Proceedings, but they betray a World of Baseness and Ill-Nature. For whence can all this Misconstru­ction spring, but either from that Envy, which our Neighbours Honour and Reputation provokes in us; or from a measuring of others by our selves, and so taking that for granted in Them, which we are Conscious of in our selves; or from a Weakness and Distemper in the Mind, which like some Sicknes­ses in the Body, alters and vitiates the Palate, confounds and blinds the Sight, that we neither [Page 154]see nor taste Things as they are; and that Virtue, in its native Purity and Lustre, is too Strong for us to bear or conceive? From the same Cause it is, that we are so officiously Spightful, in publishing other Mens Vices and Failings; that we aggravate these beyond what they deserve, but take good Care to extenuate their Virtues as much; hence from single Actions, and particular Circumstances, we draw general Inferences, and fix standing Chara­cters upon Men; Hence comes our Partiality in judging, and our Regards, not to the Thing, but the Person. If he be a Friend, or of Our Opinion, or in Our Interest; then all he does is justified or applauded, and every Thing becomes him; and his very Vices are Virtues; But if he be an Enemy, if he have disoblig'd us Personally, or be engag'd in a Contrary Faction; he is stark naught, and no­thing is as it should be. Thus we are content to wrong and disgrace our Judgment, provided we may but gratify our Passions. But alas! we are not come to the End, nor to the worst Part of it yet; For most of the Impieties, and Heresies, the Errours in point of Belief, and Controversies of all Sorts in Religion, if we examine them strictly, and trace them up to their first Head, will appear to be so many noisome Streams of this bitter Fountain; a pol­luted and wicked Will, inordinate Passion, and sen­fual Pleasure; which by Degrees bribes and debauches the Understanding, and wins it over to its own Side. The People sat down to eat and to drink, and rose up to play; As the Scripture observes of the Israelites Ido­latry; and St. Augustine very well to this purpose;^* That when a Man feels an Errour agreeable to him, he does not believe what is True, but what he would gladly have to be True. Thus by Degrees it hath come to pass, that the Wickednesses which at first [Page 155]were committed with many Doubts, and Mis­givings, and great Reluctancies, have not only out-worn all Scruple in time, but been asserted and maintained for Divine Truth, and Express Reve­lation. What was at first in the Sensual Appe­tite only, hath made its Way higher, and got the upper Hand of the Understanding; What was meerly Passion and Pleasure, hath been advanced in­to a Principle of Religion, and an Article of Faith. So dangerous a thing is it for any part of the Soul to be diseased; So Strong the Infection, and so quickly does it spread from one Faculty to an­other. And thus you have had an Account, what those Three Causes of Our Mental Defects, and the Errors in our Judgment are, which were said to be external and foreign to the Mind it self. For it appears, that the Understanding may be wanting or impaired, by Means of Sickness or Bodily Indispo­sition, more especially any Disease or Hurt in the Head, or any inconvenient Shape of the Skull. From the prejudicate Opinions of the World, and taking up groundless Whimsies for measur'd and certain Truths. And Lastly, from any Disorder in the other Faculties of the Rational Soul; which are plac'd below, and ought by Nature to be un­der the Governance of the Mind. Those whose Failings proceed from the first of these Causes, deserve our Pity, not our Censure or Blame; and of them some are curable, and others incurable. The Second are not wholly Innocent, but yet Faulty in such a Degree, that we may pardon, and excuse them. But the Third sort are altoge­ther Guilty. They deserve both Censure and Pu­nishment, for suffering the Order of their Crea­tion to be so inverted, that those which were born Subjects, and ought to submit, should usurp the Throne, and presume to give Laws to their Natural Sovereign.

16 But, besides these outward and accidental Fail­ings, there are others,Its Natu­ral Defects. Natural and Internal, such as take their first rise from, and are born and che­rished in the Mind it self. The greatest of All, and indeed the Source and Root of all the Rest, is Pride and Presumption. (The First, and the Original Sin of Mankind, the Bane of every Soul, and the Cause of all manner of Evil) 'Tis This that puffs Men up with Sufficiency and Self-Satisfaction; This will not suffer us to yield to any body, or think others Wiser or Better than our selves. This makes us despise the good Counsel of our Friends; and place an entire Confidence in our own Opinions. This calls the Judgments of other People into Question; arraigns and condemns them; nay, sometimes, such as we understand nothing of, nor are capable of examining or comprehending the Reasons of them. 'Tis most truly observ'd, that Judgment and Wisdom is not only the Best, but the Happiest Portion God Almighty hath distribu­ted among Men. For tho' this Distribution be made with a very uneven Hand, yet no body thinks himself stinted or Ill dealt with; but he that hath never so little is contented in this Respect however, and thinks he hath a Child's Share at least. Now This Distemper is owing to no Cause so much, as the want of being more intimately acquainted with our selves; for by this means we are Strangers to our Wants and Weaknesses, and not at all sensible of our greatest Misfortunes, So that the Root of all our Diseases is Ignorance, not That which is opposed to Skill in Arts and Sciences, and conversing with the Writings of Learned Men; but Ignorance of our own Affairs and Condition, the Removal and Cure whereof was proposed in the Beginning, as the Design of this whole First Book.

CHAP. XV. Of the Memory.

MEmory is very often mistaken by the Vulgar for Understanding and Good Sense; but in truth they are very different Things. For both Reason and Experience tell us (as hath been ob­served formerly) that it is very possible and usual, for a Man, who is Excellent in one of these re­spects, to be wretchedly weak and wanting in the other. This indeed is a Faculty very Serviceable and Useful to Mankind; but it comes far short of the Understanding; and is much the Tenderest, and most Feeble of all those Parts, whereof the Rational Soul is composed. To excel in it is not very necessary; except for Three Sorts of People. 1. Men of Trade, and much Business. 2. Those that are extremely Talkative, for this is the Store-house, from whence they must be furnished with Mat­ter for Discourse; and it is naturally more full and fruitful than Invention; but he that cannot be supplied from hence, must make it up by Stuff of his own forging, and 3. Great Lyars, for^* These, indeed, ought to have good Memories. The Want of Memory hath its Conveniences too. For this will dispose Men to speak Truth, to be Mo­dest, and talk no more than their Share, and to forget the Faults and Injuries of other People. A moderate Proportion of this Faculty, will serve ones Turn, and answer all the Ends of it very well.

CHAP. XVI. Of Imagination and Opinion.

1 THE Power of Imagination is exceeding great; This is in Effect the very Thing,The Effects of imagi­nation. that makes all the Noise in the World: Almost all the Clut­ter and Disturbances we feel, or make, are owing to it. (Accordingly it was observ'd before, that This is, if not the Only, yet at least the most active and bustling Faculty of the Soul.) And, in good Truth, the Effects of it are Wonderful, Unac­countable, and almost Incredible. For the Influ­ences of Imagination are not confined to the Body or the Mind of that Person alone, where it is born and cherished; but extend and transfuse them­selves far and wide, and act very Strongly upon other People. It is fitted for all manner of Ope­rations, and the most distant and contrary Passi­ons are raised by it; It puts the Man into all manner of Forms, and the Face into all Colours and Complections: Makes Men blush with Shame, look Pale with Fear, tremble and quake, casts them into Fits of Raving and Confusion; These, tho' strange, are yet some of its least Effects, and gentle in Comparison of others. It checks and enfeebles Men in their hottest Career; balks their Pleasures, and chills all their Spirits. It Marks and deforms, nay, sometimes kills Embryo's in the Womb; hastens Births, or causes Abortions; Takes away the Speech, and ties the Tongue; and some­times enables the Dumb to speak, as the Story of Croesus his Son assures us. Makes Men Stiff and Motionless, benumbs and binds up the Senses, [Page 159]stops the Breath; These are its Effects upon the Body. Then for the Mind, It robs Men of their Knowledge and Judgment, turns them into Fools and stupid Sots; as Gallus Vibius for Instance, who having strain'd his Imagination too far in the study and practice of Polly, and its Motions, is said to have disturb'd his Understanding to that Degree, that he turn'd a mere Natural, and cou'd never return to sound Judgment and good Sense again. It inspires Men with strange Presages of things hidden and future, fills them with Enthu­siasms and Fancies, out of the common Road of Thinking; throws them into Extasies and Rap­tures; nay possesses them with the Thoughts and Expectations of Death, till at last they die indeed; as it did that Malefactor, who, when his Cap had been pull'd over his Eyes in order to Execu­tion, was found stark dead upon the Scassold, when they came to uncover him again, and read his Pardon. In a word, A great part of those un­usual Operations, which create such Amazement in the Vulgar, Apparitions, and Visions, and Witch­crafts, are to be attributed to the force of Imagi­nation; and what They think done by the power of the Devil, or some familiar Spirits, (for I med­dle not here with the Supernatural Operations of God's own Spirit) is commonly no more than a strong Fancy, either in the Person that does these strange things, or of the Spectators that are delu­ded with them, and think they see those Objects, which really they do not. And the great Care in these Cases is, to distinguish wisely between Truth and Falshood, and not suffer our Judgments to be captivated with vulgar Errours.

2 In this part of the Soul it is, that Opinion keeps its Residence, which is nothing else but a vain and easie, a crude and imperfect Judgment of things, taken up upon slight and insufficient grounds; [Page 160]too credulous an Assent to the Representations of our outward Senses, or common Report, which rests in the first Appearances of Things, and fixes in the Imaginative Faculty, without ever going farther, or referring the Matter to the Understand­ing, to be throughly examin'd, and digested there, and so wrought up, and finish'd into solid Rea­son. Till This be done, no true Judgment can be made, and such as a Man may venture to abide by. And accordingly we see the other is mutable and inconstant, fleeting and deceitful. A very dangerous Guide, that makes Head against Reason; of which it is only the Image and Shadow, and that but an empty and false one neither. This is the Source of all our Evils, our Confusions and Disorders, our Passions and Trou­bles; the most, and the worst of them rise out of a prepossest Fancy, and heated Imagination: So that in truth Madmen and Fools, the Ignorant and the Mobb, are blindly led by the Nose by it, and follow this Leader; and betray their Fol­ly in doing so; as Wise and Judicious Men di­stinguish themselves, and approve their Prudence in suffering nothing but Reason to guide and go­vern them.

3 That thus it is, The World is govern'd by Opinion. we see plainly; for, as hath been observ'd long ago by one of the Ancients, It is not the Reality, nor the true Nature of Things, but the Notion and Opinion Men entertain of them, that disquiets, and so violently Torments their Souls ^*. Thus we turn our own Executioners, form Evils to our selves which are not, and strangely aggra­vate those that are, by frightful Idea's, which be­long not to them. The Truth and Essence of Things never enters our Minds in its true Pro­portions, [Page 161]nor works upon us by its natural Force and Authority; for were it thus with us, all things that are alike in Themselves wou'd be alike to Us; and the same Object wou'd produce the same Affections and Resentments in all Men, allowing only some small matter of difference in the Degree of them. At this rate all Mankind would be of the same Opinion: What is false wou'd be universally rejected, and what is true as universally embrac'd; for Truth can be but One and the Same; and is always equal and con­sistent with it self. But quite contrary, We find that the Difference of Opinions is infinite; Men do not only vary from, but directly contradict one another. And there are but very few Instan­ces, in which even Men of the best Natural A­bilities, and most eminent for their Improvements and acquir'd Learning, are all of a Mind. This shews sufficiently, that the Idea's of things are compounded and mixt before we entertain them, that we have them at our Mercy, and put what Forms we please upon them; And, that the Con­dition they come to us in, is not what Nature gave, but what the Temper and Disposition of our own Minds have moulded and modell'd them in­to. That which I firmly believe my self, I cannot prevail with my Friend to believe; Those are Arguments to Me, which to Him are none at all. Nay, which is more; Let one be never so confidently assur'd of a thing to Day, I cannot en­gage that I shall continue in the same Opinion of it to Morrow: And it is odds I may, (and plain that I often do) entertain very different Notions of it, and be quite otherwise affected with it another time. So sure it is, that Things have just that place in our Opinion and Esteem, which we think fit to assign them; that they are relish'd just as our Palate stands at that time; and shew to us accor­ding [Page 162]to those Colours which we our selves have tinctur'd them with. Like the Eyes of Men in the Jaundice, or the Prismes, that refract and vary the Rays that fall upon the Organs of our out­ward Senses, so does the Soul alter its Objects too; and the present Constitution of it is the Medium, through which they must pass to us. St. Paul's ob­servation with regard to Morals, may be apply'd to Speculation too,Tit. I. 15. Unto the pure all things are pure, but unto the defiled is nothing pure. Thus our Thoughts are like our Clothes, that keep us warm, with a Heat which is none of their own, but such as we first gave them, and they keep it; and at the same time that they receive our Warmth from within, they receive and keep the Cold of Frost and Snow without. But still the Warmth we feel is all our own; we first impart it to Them, and they in re­quital preserve it for our Benefit, and pay what they received, back again to Us.

4 How few are there of those Opinions, which we profess to entertain, that, when lookt into, are not at last resolv'd into Authority, and taken upon Trust? We believe and act, we live and die upon Credit and Content; and our great Business is to conform our selves to Custom, and to think and do like the rest of the World, and according to what They, not our own Reason, esteems most adviseable. Thus Fashions, and not Judgment, go­vern Mankind; and perhaps indeed, for the greatest part of Mankind, this is not much amiss; for most People have not Wit enough to choose for them­selves, and therefore ought to resign the Govern­ment of their Actions to others: But Wise Men are above these mean and servile Compliances; they have a better Rule to walk by than Authority and Example; Book II. As I hope to shew at large in the fol­lowing Parts of this Treatise.

CHAP. XVII. The Will.

1 THE Will is a most exquisite Piece, Its Pre­eminence. a magni­ficent Accomplishment of Humane Nature indeed; of wonderful Importance, and such as deserves and requires our utmost Care and Study, to regulate and manage it well: For this hath the most commanding Influence upon a Man's Con­dition; and his whole Happiness in a manner de­pends upon it alone. This is the only Faculty which Nature hath put in our own Power. All the rest, such as Memory, Understanding, Imagination, are at the Mercy and Disposal of a Thousand Accidents, which oftentimes disturb, and change, and impair, nay sometimes destroy, and take them quite away from us. Again: This draws the whole Man after it, and carries him whithersoever it self is determin'd; for he that conquers the Will, hath subdu'd the Person. When the Understanding is convinc'd, the Conquest is by no means entire; for the Will frequently holds out afterwards, and makes an obstinate Defence against Reason and Sober Judgment. But when once This yields, All is surrendred, and the Man is not now any lon­ger his own Master, he hath from thenceforth no­thing left that he can call his own. Once more; This is the very Thing that fixes our Character; It makes and it denominates Good or Ill Men: This gives our Temper and Complexion, and we appear to the World under its Colours and Dispo­sitions. As of all Virtues and Qualifications of the Soul, Probity is the first and chief, and infinite­ly [Page 164]more desirable than Learning, or Parts: All that Nature, or Art, or Industry can give, are not comparable to it; so it must be confest, that the Will, which is the Seat and proper Residence of Virtue and Goodness, is infinitely the most excel­lent Faculty that Humane Nature can boast of. A Man is neither Virtuous nor Vicious, Honest nor Dishonest, for knowing what Virtue and Vice, Ho­nesty and Dishonesty are; tho' this Knowledge be never so nice and exact in the Speculation; but by his Inclination, and Love, and Practice of these things, by the Disposition of his Mind, the Choice of his Heart, the Bent of his Affections, and the general Tendency of his Manners and Behaviour. There are indeed some other Pre­eminences peculiar to the Understanding; it is as the Husband in the Family, and this as the Wife, which ought to be under its Governance and Di­rection: That is the Guide, or as the Light, This as the Traveller, which shou'd follow its Instructi­ons, and walk by them: But still the last Result of all depends upon the Will; This finishes the A­ction, and determines the whole Matter; and in that respect the Will is superiour even to the Under­standing it self.

2 The true and most remarkable Difference be­tween these two Faculties, with regard to the man­ner of their Operation, seems to be This: That by the Understanding, Objects come into the Soul, and are there receiv'd and entertain'd, as the seve­ral Terms by which the Offices proper to this Part, are usually expressed, (such as Apprehending, Conceiving, Comprehending, and the like) do plainly import. And here they make their En­trance, not according to what they really are in their true Nature and full Proportions; but ac­cording to the present Disposition and Capacity of the Person, and in such Measures only as he [Page 165]is able to receive them in. Those Objects which are great and sublime, are for this reason under a necessity of condescending and contracting them­selves, and come to us with considerable Abate­ments and Defalcations; because the Passage at which they enter is not large enough for their true Height and Bulk: Just as the Ocean flows in­to the Mediterranean, not in such Quantities as are agreeable to its own Fulness, but such only as the Streight's Mouth can give admission to. Now in the Operations of the Will, the Method is quite contrary; Here the Soul goes as it were out of it self, it stretches and moves forward to­ward the Object; it seeks and runs after it with open Arms, and is eager to take up its Residence, and dwell with the Thing desired and beloved: Nay, it even transforms it self into That, assumes its Name and its Nature, wears its Livery, and is distinguish'd by the Things it serves, and re­tains to. Hence we give it the Title of a Vir­tuous or Vicious, a Spiritual or a Carnal Mind; ac­cording as it pursues commendable and exalted Objects, or is sunk into Sensuality and Vice. Thus the true and only way by which the Will can en­noble it self, is by loving and choosing worthy and noble Things; and the abandoning it self to little and low, base and unworthy ones, is the debasing and disparagement of it. So that our for­mer Comparison is in this regard justify'd again; for thus the Will is, as a Wife, who gets or loses Quality, according to the Person she marries; and in strictness can claim no Honour, nor Place, but that which belongs to her Husband.

3 Daily Experience assures us, that there are Three Things which whet and stimulate the Will; The Difficulty of Obtaining; The Rarity or Excel­lence of the Thing we seek; and The Absence, or Fear of Losing it. And the Three Consi­derations [Page 166]opposite to These, which are, Its being Easie, and in our own Power; The Abundance or Commonness of it; and The Constant Pre­sence, and Secure Enjoyment, do as much blunt and pall our Will. The Three former raise our Esteem of any thing; the Three latter render it cheap, and beget Neglect and Contempt. We are also sharpned, and made more eager by Op­position and Refusal; and entertain some sort of Indignation, which makes us more resolute against any thing that pretends to stand in our way, and disappoint our Desires. And thus, in the o­ther Extreme, we disdain and overlook the Bles­sings we have in hand, though never so valuable; and lose what we are already possest of, for things distant and in Reversion; and in proportion, what we lawfully do or may enjoy, for such as we can­not or ought not.

Thus the Case stands with us in our Pleasures of all sorts.^† The Danger, which in reason should abso­lutely destroy Delight, is the very thing which heightens it, and the strongest incentive to our Appetites in the pursuit of it. So that both Extremes have at last the same Effect, and either of them serves to make us miserable: Want and Plenty, Security and Fear, Desire and Enjoyment, all give us the same Dis­quiet, and put us to perpetual Pain. And this un­happy Disposition is the true account, why Men so seldom make a right estimate of Things; from [Page 167]whence grew that Proverb of the Prophet in his own Country, to intimate, how very different Intrinsick Worth and Common Opinion are; and that the highest Endowments, and most Divine Excellen­cies, when Custom and Acquaintance hath rendred them familiar to us, can no longer preserve the Value and Veneration most justly due to them.

What Course is to be taken for the managing and regulating our Will, See B. II. Ch. 2. B. III. Ch. 6 will be shewn hereaster.

CHAP. XVIII. Of the Passions in general.

1 PAssion is a violent Motion of the Soul, in that which is distinguished by the Name of Its Sensitive part: An Account of Passion; what and whence it is And the Cause and Tendency of this Motion is, either to pursue somewhat which the Soul ap­prehends to be Good; or to decline, and run away from something, which it apprehends to be Evil.

2 But it is very necessary, and of great conse­quence upon this Occasion, to be rightly inform'd how these Motions begin, and what it is that che­rishes and kindles these Fires in us. Of This, se­veral Accounts may be given, and different Com­parisons made use of, to illustrate it by, according to the different Respects in which we consider them. And first of all, with regard to the sud­denness and vehemence of their Emotions, it is to be observ'd, That the Soul, which, however seemingly multiply'd by Distinctions, is really but One and the Same in the Body, hath several Powers be­longing to it; and These differ greatly in their Qualities and Operations, according as the several Vessels in which the Soul keeps her Residence, [Page 169]and the Instruments she makes use of in dischar­ging her Functions, and the Objects propounded to her Contemplation, are differently dispos'd. Now when the Parts, where the Soul takes up her Lodging, are not crowded or over-burdened, but filled in such Proportions as sute well with their ordinary Custom and Capacity, and such as are convenient for a due discharge of their re­spective Duties, then all the Operations of the Soul are gentle and mild, sedate and regular. But, on the other side, when any of these Parts are either put into a swifter and more violent Moti­on, or are heated above their ordinary and pro­per Temper, then they immediately feel a consi­derable Change, to the great Prejudice and Disor­der of the Soul. The like we see in the Beams of the Sun, which, when scatter'd loosely with all that Freedom they naturally take in diffusing themselves, impart a moderate and gentle, a che­rishing and kindly Warmth; but when contracted within the Concave of a Burning-Glass, they burn up, and quite consume the very things to which they gave Life and Nourishment before. It must be farther observ'd too, that These Parts are not always distributed alike; And from hence arises another Distinction, not only with regard to the Kind and Quality, but to the Degree of their E­motion; and so they differ in the same sort, as their Violence is greater or less. Those Motions that are moderate, are capable of being relished and digested; a Man knows what he feels, and is in a Condition of expressing his Resentment in Words, or giving it Vent by Tears. But those that are excessive and extreme, are too big, and too mighty. They stun and take away our Senses quite, fill the Soul with Confusion and Amazement, bind up, and quite overbear her Powers, and disa­ble her from acting.

2 Thus much may suffice, to give us some little Notion of the Passions, Of the Vi­ [...]iaus Irre­gularity in them. the manner of their Ope­ration, and their Degrees in general. But if we now look upon them, in the Second Place, with Regard to the Viciousness, and Irregularity, and Extravagance; the Injustice and Unreasonableness these Passions are frequently guilty of; thus Man may not unfitly be resembled to a State or Com­mon-Wealth, and the Condition of the Soul, to that of a Monarch, presiding over that State, con­stituting several Officers and Magistrates under him, to assist in the good Government of such vast Mul­titudes of People; giving particular Laws and Di­rections for their Behaviour, and for the due Ex­ercise of their particular Charges and Commissions; but still reserving to himself and his own Supreme Jurisdiction, the Cognizance and Determination of all Matters of great Weight and general Impor­tance; and for the giving fresh and necessary Orders, commanding that all extraordinary Acci­dents and Emergencies, should immediately and faithfully be reported to himself in Person. Now upon such a Constitution, and such Orders duly observed, the Peace and Prosperity of the whole Kingdom will depend. But if these be neglected and broken, and put out of their proper Course; If the Magistrates, which go between, and are a sort of Balance between King and People, shall suffer themselves, either to be imposed upon thro' Easiness, or Credulity; or corrupted by Favour or Assection; or if they shall employ their Authority [Page 171]in acting contrary to the Established Laws, and Duties of their Places; or if they shall go beyond their Commissions, and come to a sinal Resolu­tion in Causes, which they ought not to deter­mine, without ever laying them before their Sove­reign, who hath reserv'd the Hearing and Decision of all such Matters to himself in Person: In all these Cases, I say, the publick Peace is violated, the Establishment infring'd, the Prerogative incroach'd upon, and nothing but Mischief, and Misery, and Confusion can be the End of it. Now thus it is likewise in our Little World. The Understanding is King in Man; and under him is employed a Fa­culty, whose Business it is to receive Idea's, and to make an Estimate of them; This is the Sub­ordinate Magistrate, whose Office obliges him to examine, and to judge; The Evidence he goes upon, is that Report the Senses make of all things represented to them; and according to this Testi­mony, and the Judgment in consequence of it, the Affections are by the same Faculty put forward, in order to execute this Sentence. For his Directi­on, and Governance in the Execution of this Office, our Judge in Commission hath the Law, the Light of Nature, and Dictates of Reason to go by; and this, in ordinary Cases, is sufficient without a­ny farther Formality: But if it happen, that the Affair be of great Moment, or if any Difficulty arise, then he must have recourse to, and know the Pleasure of his Superiour; and in this Case the Understanding, which sits Supreme, answers all Doubts and Points of Law, and expects to be consulted and applied to for Orders and Advice. This is the Scheme of our Government and Con­stitution; and so long as Matters are thus managed, all is quiet and well. But it is our Great Unhap­piness, that this Imaginative Faculty, (which is under the Intellectual, but over the Sensitive, and [Page 172]to whose Jurisdiction the first Examination and Judgment of things belong,) often suffers it self to be bribed, corrupted, imposed upon; And the Effect of this is, First to pass wrong and rash Judg­ment; then to set the Affections at work to very ill Purpose; and at last to disturb, and confound, and ruine All. Now several things there are, which may contribute towards the depraving, and disor­dering this Power, in its Judgments and Operations: As first of all; The Senses themselves, which can­not penetrate into the Bottom, nor comprehend the Real Substance, and hidden Nature of Things, but the bare Surface, and next Appearance of them only: And These make a Report to the Soul, ac­cording to their present Apprehension; set before it the outward Images only, and that, so as may gain them Favour and Recommendation, and pre-pos­sessing it with a Character of their Qualities, found­ed upon the Satisfactions and Delights they are capable of administring to these Senses in parti­cular, and not upon the Considerations, how Ne­cessary, or how Advantagious they may prove to the whole Man in general. A Second Corrupti­on, which often confirms, and strikes in upon the Neck of This, is the False Notions, and Unthink­ing Cry of the Vulgar; when we look upon our seives oblig'd to Approve and Disapprove, as Others do; and when nothing is reputed needful to establish an Opinion, more than its being Po­pular. From these two false Offices of Intelli­gence, The Report of our own Senses, and the Voice of the People, proceeds a Rash Inconsiderate Opini­on, which the Soul takes up of Things; and with­out fair Tryal, or sufficient Deliberation, pronoun­ces them, Good or Evil; Advantagious or Hurt­ful; fit to be courted, or fit to be detested and avoided. And this is without all Dispute a very dangerous Guide; a very hot and hasty Mistress; [Page 173]for as soon as ever we entertain it, without more ado it seizes upon the Imagination; and there standing upon its Defence, strengthens it self as in a Castle, Mans all the Works, and holds it out a­gainst Reason; then it comes down to the Heart, and there stirs and agitates the Affections, with the violent Resentments of Hope and Fear, and Joy and Grief. In a Word, it is a perfect Incendia­ry in the State, looks out all the Fools, and Dis­affected in the Soul, and blows them up into Se­dition; raises the Mobb, that is, the Passions, and sets all in an Uproar and Confusion. And all this by taking wrong Methods, going Headlong to work, and not submitting the Matter to the Understanding, as by the Nature of this Establishment, and the Duty of its Station, that Faculty was obliged to do.

Permit me to set before you another Illustration of this Matter by a Comparison taken from Military (as the former was an Allusion to Civil) Govern­ment. The Senses answer here both to the Cen­tinels, whose Post it is to watch, and be constant­ly upon the Guard, for the safety of the Soul; and also to Scouts, who are to look out, and scour the Country, and bring in Intelligence to the Un­derstanding, which is the Supreme Commander of the Soul. To qualify them for this Duty, They are endued with a Power, of perceiving things; di­scerning and taking the Faces and Forms of them; and embracing or rejecting them, according as they appear Agreable or Disagreable, Delightful or Odious to them. But now in the Execution of their Office, their Business is only to spy out, and to report; to take Care, that their Intelli­gence be True, and to bring it Faithfully, and relate it Plainly and Calmly. And they ought to satisfy themselves with delivering their Message, without tak­ing upon them to disturb the higher Powers, or to sound to Arms immediately, and so put all into [Page 174]Consternation and universal Disorder. And thus it often happens; that as the Centinels in an Army, may lie under Mistakes, because they are not ac­quainted with the secret Designs of the General; and so receive Them for Friends, which are Ene­mies in Disguise; and suspect those for Enemies, which are Allies, and marching to their Assistance; The Senses, in like manner, not being privy to all that passes above, and for want of consulting Rea­son in the Case, are frequently imposed upon by counterfeit Appearances, and apt to take That for a Friend, which is, in truth, our deadly Enemy. And when they go giddily to work upon this Imagination, and without ever expecting Orders from the Understanding, fall on immediately, and alarm the Concupiscible, and Irascible Faculties; then they raise Tumults, and Mutinies in the Soul; and while these last, there is nothing but Clamour and Violence; the Voice of Reason can­not be heard, nor the Commands of the Under­standing be at all obeyed.

4 Let us now in the next Place, observe their se­veral Regiments and Ranks;Their Di­stinctions. the General, and the Subordinate Kinds and Divisions of them. Now we must know,According to the Ob­ject and Subject. Six in the Concupisci­ble Part. Three for Good, and Three for Evil. That all Passion whatsoever, is moved by the Appearance, either Real or Imagi­nary, of Good or Evil; what actually is, or what is by the Person apprehended so to be. If the Object be Good, and the Soul considers it as such, simply, and without any other Circumstances, this is that Motion of the Soul, which goes by the Name of Love. If to that Good, so considered as before, be added the Circumstance of its being pre­sent, and the Man reflect upon himself, as in full Possession and actual Enjoyment of it, This is call'd Joy, or Pleasure; but if it be future and distant, then it is Desire. On the other Hand, consider an Evil Object, abstractedly, and merely as such, and [Page 175]the Passion it stirs in us, is Hatred: If it be pre­sent, and affect us sensibly, it is Grief and Pain; if some other Person labour under it, 'tis Pity and Compassion; if it be future and approaching only, then 'tis Fear. And This is remarkable, concern­ing the Passions already named; that Those of them, which proceed from the Apprehension, or the Appearance of Evil, such as we run away from, and are possest with an Abhorrence of, do of all others sink deepest into the Heart, take fast­est Hold of us, and are most difficult to be di­spossest again. This now is the first Regiment of Mutineers, which disturb the Content, and break the Peace of our Souls, and these are quarter'd in that which is term'd the Concupiscible Part. The Effects and Disorderly Carriage of These are, it must be confest, of very dangerous Consequence; but yet they are not near so Outragious and Mis­chievous, as those that we are going to mention. For these first Motions, formed here by the Re­presentation of the Object,Five in the Irascible; Two for Good, and Three for Evil are afterwards conti­nued, and communicated to the Irascible Part of the Soul, that is, The Place, where the Soul is active, and contriving Means to obtain what she apprehends to be Good; and to deliver her self from that which she apprehends to be Evil. And then, as a Wheel already in Motion, when a fresh Force pushes it, receives that Addition easily, and whirls about with wonderful Strength and Swift­ness; so the Soul, which is already stirred and warmed with the first Apprehension, when a Se­cond Attempt is made upon it, and the Coals are blown, flames out, and is transported with Rage and Violence, much greater than before. The Pas­sions Then raised, ride higher; are much more fu­rious and ungovernable; for now indeed they are double: The first have come in and joyned them, and thus they back and sustain one another, by [Page 176]this Union, and mutual Consent. For the former Passions, which were the Result of Good or Evil in Appearance, considered in Speculation only, now fall in with the Practical Consideration of Means proper for the acquiring or avoiding them, and so excite in us Hope or Despair. And here, those that arise from the Prospect of a future Evil, pro­duce in us, either Fearfulness or Courage; the Ap­prehension of a present Evil, kindles Anger and In­dignation; which are Passions extremely Furious and Violent, and such, as when they find the Reason once disturbed, confound and absolutely overturn it. These are the Principal Winds, that raise all the Storms in our Souls; and the Cavern (like that of Aeolus) where they are ingendred, and from whence they break loose, is nothing else but Opi­nion, (And Opinion is most commonly a false, fleet­ing, and uncertain Thing; contrary to Nature, and Truth, to Reason and Certainty) that is, A Notion we have, that the Things which are then represented to our Imaginations, are Good or Evil. Nor matters it much, how wild, and extravagant, this Notion is in it self, provided We do but give it Entertainment. For Men proceed not upon Realities, but upon their own Fancies; and when once we have taken a Conceit that a Thing is Good or Evil, we run after, or we run away from it, with as much Eagerness and Impatience, as if it were actually such; and yet it often, very often happens, that the Nature of the Object is directly contrary to our Apprehensions, and ought to move Resentments, just opposite to those we feel upon its Account. And such in general are our Passions.

CHAP. XIX. Of Love in general, and at large.

LOVE is the First,Love com­pared with and distin­guished from the rest. the Chief, the Reigning Passion; the rest are all deriv'd from, and re­duced at last into This; But it is of vast extent, employ'd upon different Subjects, distinguish'd in­to different sorts and degrees. Of These the Three principal that fall within our present pur­pose, and to which all the rest may very well be referr'd, are Ambition or [...]ride, which is the Love of Honour and Greatness; Avarice, which is the Love of Riches; and Sensuality or Carnal Desire, which is the Love of Pleasure. (These I call such as come within our present Design, which is to treat of Love, as it is vicious, and the effect of Passion; for Virtuous Love, which may be distinguished into Friendship, Charity, and Natu­ral Affection or Tenderness, is out of the com­pass of this place, and will be spoken to under the Virtue of Justice.) [...] III

The Three foremention'd Passions are those Three Gulphs and Precipices, that drown so great a part of the World in Destruction and Perdition; the Plagues of Mankind; from the Infection whereof, how sew, exceeding few escape untouch'd? the Corruptions that taint every part of us, even All we are, and All we have, and All we take in hand; our Souls, and Bodies, and Possessions: These are the Magazines, from whence those Three mortal Enemies of the Peace and Salvati­on of Mankind, the Devil, the World, and the [...]sh, furnish themselves with Arms to assault and [Page 179]destroy us. They may in truth be call'd Three Powers or Potentates, the commonest and most u­niversal Passions, whose Territories are so large, that the Apostle hath divided the whole Universe between them.1 John ii. 16. All that is in the World (says he) the Lust of the Flesh, and the Lust of the Eyes, and the Pride of Life.

Of these, Ambition is the most resin'd and Spi­ritualiz'd, and hath therefore been esteem'd more noble, or less Mean, than the Two others. Sen­suality, or Love of Pleasure, in regard of its being more Natural and Universal, (for even Beasts, which are wholly unacquainted with the other sorts, have a share in this) is more violent, and less vicious. When I speak of Violence, I mean, considering it simply, and according to the Na­ture of the thing. For though it may, and some­times does happen, that Ambition prevails over it, yet this is a particular Distemper, a Case excepted from the common Course, and general Rules. But of all the Rest, Avarice is the most stupid and senseless Passion, the surest Symptom of a sordid and sickly Mind.

CHAP. XX. Of Ambition.

1 AMbition is a Thirst of Honour and Glory, Definition of it. a greedy, and gluttonous, and inordinate Desire of Greatness. It is naturally a gentle and pleasing Passion, which with much Ease insinu­ates it self into Great and Generous Spirits, and is not driven out again without great Difficulty. We all think it our Duty and Commendation, [Page 180]to pursue and embrace that which is Good; and of all Things that pretend to this Character, Honour is most in request and esteem with us. And therefore all of us run full speed, and put our selves upon the utmost Stretch, where This is the Prize. The Ambitious Man strives to be first, keeps his Eye forward upon the Goal, and upon those that have the Start of him; but forgets and takes no notice of the many he hath outstript himself. He feels more Discontent, for One Man that hath got before him, than he enjoys Satisfa­ction for a Thousand that he hath left lagging after. Seneca observes very well,^* This is the con­stant Fault, and inseparable ill Quality of Ambition, ne­ver to look behind it. Now Ambition is of two sorts; The one aspires after Glory and Honour, a Good Reputation, a Great and Immortal Name; and this is of great Use, and publick Benefit; It is not only allowable, but in some Sense, and under certain Qualifications and Restraints, highly com­mendable: The other sort affects Greatness and Power; and this is generally not only vicious, but destructive, and of most fatal Consequence to the World.

2 Ambition hath this peculiar Advantage, 'Tis [...] to us. that the Seeds of it are sown, and the Root of it fast sixed in the Heart of every one of us. We have a Proverb indeed, which tells us Nature is contented with a very little; but then we have another too, that says with as great Truth the direct contra­ry; That Nature is never satisfy'd, nor capable of being contented at all. A Man never comes to the End of his Desires, so as to set up his Rest, but is always for climbing a little higher, and growing a little richer. No Man goes a mode­rate [Page 181]pace, or chooses to advance leisurely, towards Greatness and Glory; but lays the Reins in the Neck, and rides Whip and Spur.^† Humane Na­ture is greedy of Preference and Power, and drives furi­ously on toward the gratifying those Desires. And in­deed their Speed is oftentimes so great, that the Riders are thrown, and break their Neck; as Hi­story and Experience shew a world of Aspiring Men to have done, who have paid dear for all their Hopes, and lost both Them and Themselves, just when they were in view, and upon the Point of enjoying their promis'd Happiness. This, in short, is a Passion riveted into, and interwoven with our Constitution; it seizes us early, 'tis vio­lent while it lasts, and leaves us very late; from whence some of the Philosophers have wittily cal­led it the Shirt of the Soul, the Vice next our Skin, and that which is last pull'd off.^* For even Wise Men are observ'd to strip off all other Vices, be­fore they quit this Desire of Glory and Reputa­tion.

3 As Ambition is the most violent and powerful in its Influences and Effects, [...] Str [...]gth and Supe­riority. so is it likewise the loftiest and most noble in its own Nature, of any Passion whatsoever. The Power and Force of it is manifest in that absolute Mastery it gains over all other things, even those which the World is most subdu'd by, even all other Passions and Desires. Nay even Love it self, which sometimes pretends to dispute the Point of Power and Pre­cedence, is yet miserably vanquished and tyran­niz'd over by it. Alexander, Scipio, and Pompey, are so many Instances of this Observation; and [Page 182]so are abundance of great Generals besides, who have refused to gratifie their Inclinations, upon extraordinary fine Women, when they had them at their Mercy: And all this from no other Prin­ciple than a Point of Honour; Conquers all other and a Soul enfla­med with Ambition; to which the Fires of Love were so far from being equal, that they were made subservient to it; and the Conquest of these De­sires became a Triumph and a Sacrifice to their Glory. Thus it happen'd very remarkably in Cae­sar; For no Man alive was ever more siercely addicted to Amours of all sorts, than He, (as the many Extravagances he had been guilty of both at Rome, and abroad in Foreign Parts, abun­dantly testifie) no Man was ever more choice of his Person, more nice in Dress, more careful to preserve and render it agreeable to the Ladies; and yet Ambition was evermore his reigning Pas­sion. The Pleasures of Love, tho' they had him in perfect Subjection, when This came not into Competition with them, were then so feeble, and so over-match'd, that they never cou'd prevail for the throwing away upon them so much as one Hour, which was capable of being employ'd, or made in any degree serviceable to the promoting his Honour. So that, notwithstanding the Mix­ture of any other Passions, which had their Sea­sons too; yet Ambition sat Supreme in his Soul, and was, to all Intents and Purposes, as if It had had the sole and ontire Possession of him. 'Tis true, we meet with an Example, the very Reverse of this, in Mark Anthony, and some Others, who have been so enslaved by Love, as to give up All, banish their most necessary and weighty Cares, and lose themselves, and their Crowns, through mere Esseminacy and Neglect. But then these have been Persons of quite different Tempers; For where both meet together, and are fairly weigh'd [Page 183]one against the other, Ambition will cast the Scale. Some indeed, who argue for the force of Love a­bove it, tell you, that in Reason it must needs be so, because This extends to the Body as well as the Mind, keeps the whole Man in Captivity, and is not only agreeable, but necessary and con­venient too. But I shou'd think, the Reason holds on the contrary side, and that Ambition is therefore the stronger, because the more Spiritual Passion: What they pretend of the Body being al­so concern'd in Love, proves the Passion to be so much the Feebler; for from hence it must by necessary consequence, be capable of being satia­ted and cloy'd. Again; What is Corporeal it self, admits of Corporeal Remedies and Cures, some which Nature provides, and others which Art in­vents; and accordingly Experience hath appro­ved these, and shewed Instances of many who have beaten down the hottest Flames of Love; and of some who have overcome and quenched these quite, by artificial Means, and good Manage­ment. But now Ambition is so far from being glutted, that its Appetite is never satisfy'd. En­joyment does but whet it more; and being seat­ed wholly in the Soul, and the Reason, renders the Disease obstinate and incurable, incapable of outward Application, and too deep and subtle for Medicines to reach and fasten upon.

4 It does not only conquer the Regard for one's own Health and Ease, The Gare of Life. (for indeed Honour and Ease can never dwell together) and make Men content to sacrifice all their Quiet, and Comforts, and Enjoyment of the World; but even the na­tural Care and Tenderness for our very Lives is not able to stand before it. Agrippina, the Mo­ther of Nero, was an eminent Example of this Nature, who, being extremely desirous that her Son should be Emperour, and inform'd that he [Page 184]should be Emperour indeed, but it shou'd be at the Expence of Her Life, made an Answer sit for the Mouth of Ambition her self, cou'd that be personated: Provided he may have the Power, (says she) I am content it should be upon the Condition of using it to my destruction.^* Let my Son kill me, so my Son may but reign.

5 Thirdly; The La [...] Ambition makes its way through all Laws, and tramples Conscience it self under Foot: The great Professors of Morality, who tell you, that a Man must make it his Business to be en­tirely Virtuous, and pay an universal Obedience to Laws; yet when they speak of Ambition, begin to mince the matter, and are content to make an excepted Case of it. A Crown it seems is so sweet, so delicious a Morsel, that the Temptation is invincible, and deserves a Dispensation. The most abstemious Man may strain a Point, and break his Fast upon this Feast.^† If ever Breach of Law and Equity be allowable, (says one) it is in the Case of gaining a Kingdom; but in every thing else, be sure to be strictly Virtuous. ‘Not that even in this, or any Case, such Liberties are to be in­dulg'd; but They who thus express themselves, signifie the strong Propensity of Humane Na­ture to this Passion; how strong it is in all, and how difficult to be subdu'd by any, who are tempted with very great Advantages.’

6 With the same Insolence does it treat the Ho­liest things, R [...]g [...]. eraces all Reverence of God, and treads Religion under Foot: For what greater Con­tempt of these can be shewn, than the World have seen in Jeroboam, who establish'd an Idola­trous Worship for the securing his Throne; and A [...]net, who gave general Encouragement to all [Page 185]Persuasions, and valu'd not which was uppermost, so he might reign: And the old Broachers of He­resies, who rather chose to forsake the right Way, and so become Heads of Parties, and Ringleaders in Falshood and Lyes, tho' a Thousand Disorders and Impieties were the visible and unavoidable Consequences of that wicked Choice, than to con­tinue in a lower and less conspicuous Station, by being Disciples and Followers of the Truth? With regard to such as these it is, that the Apostle hath admirably foretold the Doom of Ambitious Men, That they who suffer themselves to be intangled in these Snares, make Shipwrack of a good Conscience, 1 Tim. i 6. err from the Faith, and pierce themselves through with many Sorrows.

7 In short; It changes Men's Natures, Natural Affection. hardens their Hearts, and makes them brutish; defaces all those tender Impressions and Resentments, which are most customary, and most due to our nearest Relations. The infamous Accounts, which Sacred or Prophane History hath recorded, the Barba­rities and Murders committed upon the Persons of Parents, or Children, or Brethren, are most of them insligated by this Passion. Witness Absalom, and Abimelech, and Athaliah. Romulus, Sei King of Persia, who slew his Father and his Brother; So­liman the Turk, that dispatch'd his two Brothers. So unable is any thing to stand against the Force of this impetuous Passion, which is for removing every thing out of its way; and where-ever it takes its Course, overturns, and lays all level with the Ground.

8 ^*That which renders the Case yet more de­plorable, It is a lofty Passion. is, that the Noblest and most Generous [Page 186]Spirits, such as Nature seems to have design'd for Master-pieces and Patterns, are most liable to this Passion. It is in it self a tall and stately Quali­ty, and none but great Souls are capable of gi­ving it Reception. This was the Temptation which seduc'd the Angels themselves; a Tempta­tion of all others best accommodated to Their Circumstances, and perhaps the Only one the Per­fection of their Nature cou'd be corrupted by: For Ambition is a Vice not suited to mean and little Souls. Your pitiful scoundrelly Fellows can­not come up to it; nor can common and indiffe­rent Performances pretend to any Reward or Desert, such as it thirsts after. Glory and Re­nown always imply somewhat Brave and Great, and of a larger Size than ordinary; they are ne­ver to be bought at cheap and easie Rates; but are the Recompence and Effects of Good and Beneficial, shall I say? nay rather of Great and Noble, and very Difficult Actions; of Uncommon and Wonderful Excellencies; such as excite Admi­ration and Astonishment, at the same time that they command Honour and Applause.

That ignoble greediness of Respect, that base and beggerly way of gaining Reputation, which submits to cringing and fawning upon all sorts of People, and declines the use of none, no not the most scandalous Methods of acquiring it; is sordid and shameful. Such Honours are a Scandal and Disgrace. A Man must take care not to express such an Eagerness after these things, as is incon­sistent with the things themselves; not to be ex­alted and puft up with vain Opinions of one's self, every time he does well; For he that does thus, procures his own Dishonour; and while he strives with great Pains to lift his Head above the Crowd, discovers his Nakedness and Shame at the same time.

9 Ambition is intricate and various; It operates different Ways. it takes several Roads, and exerts it self by very Different Me­thods. Sometimes it goes to work openly, and marches strait up to the Mark; And thus Alexander, and Caesar, and Themistocles, and other truly gene­rous Spirits have proceeded. Sometimes it works in Secret, and goes in crooked Paths; and thus some Philosophers, and great Pretenders to Piety and Virtue, have indulged themselves in the Exercise of it. They fetch a Compass, and come in at the Back-Door; like Water-Men, that row one way, and look another; they have laboured to get Ho­nour, by a seeming Neglect, and contempt of Ho­nour: And no Doubt, as Plato told Diogenes, there is more Glory, and greater Vanity, in refusing, and trampling upon Honours and Preferments, than in seeking and enjoying them. And Ambition ne­ver manages it self with greater Cunning and Suc­cess, than when it goes out of the beaten Road, and comes up to the Prize some unusual, and un­seen Way.

10 Ambition is without Question a very vain and foolish Passion; For after all, The Folly of it. what does it so Zea­lously pursue, or what can be the Gains of it, when rightly computed? It is giving Chase to a Vapour, catching at Smoke, instead of Fire and Light; Embracing a Shadow, in steadof Body and Substance; It is making a Man's whole Happiness precarious, suspending all the Satisfaction and Con­tent of his Mind, upon Popular Opinion, the Hu­mour, and the Breath of an ignorant and changing Multitude. It is a voluntary, and consequently the very worst, and most despicable Slavery; the parting with our own Native Rights and Liberties, and depending upon the Arbitrary Passions of other People: 'Tis the putting one's self under perpetual Constraint; and engaging to act contrary to ones own Sense, in Hopes, by displeasing and disapprov­ing [Page 188]our selves, to please and gain the Approbation of Standers-by; Tis a sacrificing our Affections and Reason to the Capriciousness of Spectators; 'Tis the prostituting of Conscience to common Opinion; renouncing all Love of Virtue, any farther than the World shall please to like, and keep it in Countenance; and 'tis the doing of Good, not for the Sake of Goodness, but merely in Considerati­on of the Credit and Advantage to be got by it. In a Word, such Men are like full Vessels, that must be pierced for the Liquour they contain; not one Drop can be drawn from them, unless you give them Vent; nor any Benefit to be had of these Qualities, but such as takes Air.

11 Ambition hath no Bounds; 'Tis Insati­able. 'tis a deep Gulph without Bank or Bottom; This is that true Vacuum, or vast empty Space, which the Philosophers after all their Study, have never been able to discover in Nature; a Fire that feeds, and grows upon the Fewel we heap upon it. And in this Respect indeed it is just to its Master, and pays him for his Pains. For Ambition is only just in this, that it is suffici­ent for its own Punishment, and never fails to teaze and torment it self abundantly. What the Poets have couched under the Fable of Ixion, is the Restless Motion of the Ambitious Man's De­sires; These are the Wheel that rolls to all Eter­nity within its own Circle, and, by its constant and wearisome Returns, gives no quiet, no relaxa­tion to the Mind of the Vain Man that is con­demned to turn it.

12 Some, The Excu­ses for it, vain. who have undertaken to flatter Ambition, pretend in its Vindication, that it is of great Use to Virtue, a Whet and Spur to brave and noble Enterprizes. For Men are content to abandon ma­ny other Vices, for the Sake of This; and by De­grees come at last to resign this too, for the Sake of Virtue. But alas! the Matter, when critically exa­min'd, [Page 189]will be sound far otherwise. 'Tis true, Am­bition covers over, and conceals many Vices; but it takes away, and throughly reforms never a one. And even that Industrious Concealment, is but for a Season. It rakes them up, like Fire in the Em­bers, under the Dust and Rubbish of Hypocrisy, and Mischievous Dissimulation; but it is only to keep the Fire from going out, that it may be blown up, and flame out again more fiercely than ever, as soon as this Cheat hath carried its Point, and Men have gain'd Authority sufficient to bear them out in Bare-fac'd Wickedness. When the Man is in Power, and too Big for Punishment, or Con­troul; then, and not before, you see what he tru­ly is. Before that, trust him not; for if you do, you will be apt to mistake him. When Serpents are numb'd with Cold, they have still the same Venom in their Nature, though the Effects of it be suspended for the present: And the Ambitious Man hath still the same Vices, the same Heat and Fury; he carries it about him; how Gentle, and Tame, and Cool soever his Disguise may be. The Fish is not yet caught; but when it is, then he will come abroad, in his true Colours, and Natural Complexion; and though Ambition should make so good Progress toward Virtue, as to quit all other Vices; yet there is but very little Hope or Appearance of its ever renouncing it self. It pushes Men to Brave and Illustrious Actions, I confess it; and the Benefit of these Actions to the Publick is unspeakable; but though Others may reap the Fruit, and be the better for such Actions, yet it will not follow, that the Person who does them is one whit the Better for them. These may be the Effect of Passion, and not of Virtue or Prin­ciples; and if they be so, this Excuse is vain. For at present it is not the Profit, but the Intrin­sick Goodness of such Exploits, that we are inqui­ring [Page 190]into. I know indeed this Passion shelters it self under that very excellent Maxime, That We are not born for our selves alone, but for the General Good of Mankind; But how good a Sanctuary this is, the Methods made Use of for rising in the World, and Mens Behaviour after their Promotions and Successes, must shew. And These, if they be nicely observ'd, will give us Cause to suspect, that the Men, who talk at this Rate, speak a­gainst their own Consciences; and that private In­terest is at least an equal, if not a stronger Motive to the Generality of Mankind, than the Good of others. Men look nearer Home in all they do, and That, how large soever the Pretensions to it may be, (for we cannot wonder, that Men should pretend at least to One of the best and most va­luable Qualities in the World,) yet a truly Publick Spirit is very rarely to be found.

See Advice and Remedies against this Passion in particular. Book III. Chap. 42.

CHAP. XXI. Of Avarice, and the Passions opposite to it.

1 BY Avarice is to be understood an inordinate Love, What it is. and vehement Desire of Riches. Tho', indeed, it is not only, the Love and Fondness for them, that deserve this Name, but all Sort of over­curious Niceness, and sollicitous Concern about Riches will bear it very justly; even the Care of distributing them; and Liberality it self, if it take up too much of our Time and Pains, in ordering and making it exact. In short, All manner of Anxi­ous Thought, with Relation to Riches, savours strongly [Page 191]of this Passion; for they ought to be entertain'd and used with a becoming Negligence, and to be looked upon, as they really are, not worth any earnest Attention of the Mind, nor a sit Object of our Care and Trouble.

2 The vehement Desire of Riches, and the mighty Pleasure of Possessing them, is merely Fantastical; a Creature of our own Imagination, and hath no Being, no Foundation in Nature at all. 'Tis a Canker, or Gangrene in the Soul, that spreads and mortifies, and with its Venom corrodes and quite consumes all Our Natural Affections, and fills us with noxious and virulent Humours in their stead. No sooner hath This taken up its Dwelling in our Hearts, but immediately all those Tendernesses, and kind Concerns are banished thence, which either Nature inspires, or Virtue recommends, and im­proves in us. All the Duties and Regards we owe to our Relations, to our Friends; nay, to our very Selves, are no longer of any Consideration with us. All the World, when set in competition with Inte­rest and Profit, goes for Nothing; and at last we come to that pass, as even to over-look and despise our own Persons; our Ease, our Health, our Bodies, our Souls, All are sacrificed to this Darling, this a­dored Wealth; and, as the Proverb expresses it, We sell the Horse to get the Provender.

3 Avarice is a mean sordid Passion; the Temper, The Folly and Misery of it. or rather the Disease, of Fools and Earth-Worms, who esteem Riches, as the Supreme Good, and most exquisite Attainment Humane Nature is capable of; and dread Poverty as the Last of Evils; who cannot content themselves with a bare Compe­tency, or such Provisions as are necessary for their Subsistence, which indeed are so small, that very few want them. They measure their Riches by the Bags and Weights of Bankers, and Gold­smiths; whereas Nature teaches us to make a dif­ferent [Page 192]Judgment, and directs us to the Standard of our own just Occasions. Now, is not this the very Extremity of Folly, to fall down and wor­ship That, which Nature hath taught us to despise, by casting it under our Feet, and hiding it in the Bowels and dark Caverns of the Earth; as a thing not fit for publick view; but to be trampled and trod upon, as a just Object of our Neglect, and an Intimation of its own Worthlessness? There it was Originally, and there it had remain­ed to all Eternity, had not the Vices of Mankind ransack'd those dark Cells, and with great Diffi­culty and Violence drawn it up: And great their Reward of such Industry hath been: For what have they gain'd by it, but the Ground of Insi­nite Controversies, and Quarrels, and Blood-shed, and Rapine, a Fatal Instrument of devouring and destroying one another?^* We take unspeakable Pains to fetch up that above Ground (says one) which, when we have it, serves us only to fight for. Nay, we are not out of Countenance to have those very Things in highest Esteem, which God and Nature had made low­est, and thought the deepest Mines of the Earth, a Place Good enough for. Nature indeed seems in some Measure to have given sure Presages, how Mise­rable those Men should be, who are in Love with Gold, by the manner of its Growth, and the Qua­lity of the Soil that produces it. For, as That Ground where the Veins of this Metal are found, is Unprofitable for other Uses; and neither Grass, nor Plants, nor any other Thing, of Value and Service to Mankind, will grow there; it is in this Respect a most lively Emblem of the Minds of Men, which are enamour'd with it; They being, in like manner, the most sordid, and abject, and [Page 193]abandoned Wretches, cursed and condemned to Barrenness; void of all Honour, lost to all Virue; and no kind of thing that is Good in it self, or Beneficial to the World, is to be obtained, or ex­pected from them. What a horrible Degradation is this? and how do we lessen and disparage our selves, when we give up that Dominion and Liberty to which we were born, by becoming Servants and Slaves to the very meanest of our Subjects?^* For Riches (as is most truly observ'd) are the Wise Man's Servants, and the Fool's Masters. And in Truth, the Covetous Man cannot be so properly said to pos­sess Wealth, as That may be said to possess Him. He hath it indeed, but he hath it in such a Sense only, as he hath a Fever, or some violent Disease, which hath got an absolute Mastery over him, and preys upon his Vitals, and all his Faculties. How extravagant is it to dote upon That, which neither hath any Goodness of its own, nor was ever able to make any one Man Good since the beginning of the World? A thing that Provi­dence distributes Promiscuously, and with a negli­gent Hand; scattered in common to all the World, and the greatest Share, very often, permitted to the worst and most scandalous Part of Mankind? Nor is this all. For, though the Thing be indifferent in its own Nature, and that single Consideration is sufficient to wean, or at least to moderate our Af­fections; yet the Effects and Consequences of it are by no means indifferent, but in the Issue and Event, incline strongly to the Worse. The de­basement of Mens Minds, and the depravation of their Manners, being the manifest and frequent Effect of it. And, though it cannot be proved, that Riches ever reform'd one ill Disposition, and [Page 194]made it Virtuous; yet there are innumerable In­stances of Persons otherwise well-disposed, who have been corrupted, and made Vicious by their Means. And when we have computed all the Con­veniences that attend them, and represented these in their best Light, and to all possible Advantage; it must be acknowledged after all, that a great many wise Men have lived very Easy and Hap­py without them; and a great many more foo­lish and naughty Men have died Scandalously for them. So then They are no necessary Ingredient of Life, and they expose us to Danger, and Disgrace, and Death. In a Word, This is to act upon our selves the Barbarity and Tyranny, for which the cruel Mezentius was Infamous; to tie the living Body to the dead Carkass, that so it may languish, and expire with greater Torment; to mix a No­ble and Refined Spirit, with the Dross and Excre­ment of the Earth; to perplex and involve the Soul with innumerable Difficulties, and Tortures, which this Passion will be sure to bring upon it; to entangle one's self in the Snares of the Wicked one, and voluntarily to be taken Captive by the Adversary of Souls, as the Scripture admirably ex­presses it. And, indeed, there is scarce any Vice more pathetically, and more frequently decried in those Holy Books. Where we find these very sig­nificant Characters given of It;Luk. xvi. 9. Matt. xiii. 22. 1 Tim. vi. 9. Coloss. iii. 5. 1 Tim. vi. 10. The Unrighteous Mammon; The Thorns which choak the Good Seed, of Piety and Virtue; The Robber, that steals away Mens Hearts and Affections; The Nets and Snares of the Devil; The Idolatry, that draws Men off from the Regard and Worship of the True God; and The Love of Money, which is the Root of all Evil. And sure, if Men would but turn their Eyes in­ward, and observe that Rust and fretting Canker of Sins and Discontents, and desperate Anxieties, which Riches breed in their Hearts, with the same [Page 195]Attention and Diligence, that they gaze upon their glittering Metals with, the Consequence of This must be, that They wou'd then be as much, and as generally hated and despis'd, as now, we see, they are belov'd and admir'd.^* Necessity wants many things; Covetousness wants every thing.^† The Covetous Man is good to no body, but worst of all to himself.

4 Not but that there is another Passion in the contrary Extreme, The contra­ry Passion. which is by no means free from Vice neither; and that is, a downright Detesta­tion, and obstinate Refusal of Riches: For this is Refusing the Means and the Opportunities of do­ing good, and putting it out of a Man's own power to practise many excellent and very bene­ficial Virtues. There needs but little Considera­tion to convince us, that the using Riches as one ought, and getting an absolute Dominion over them, is a Task much more laborious and diffi­cult, than the being content under the Want of them; and a Prudent and Virtuous Behaviour in Poverty, is more attainable than a steady Good­ness in the midst of Plenty. In the former of these Circumstances, a Man hath but One Attack to guard, and may bend all his Forces against That without Distraction; If he can but keep his Courage up from sinking under the Affliction, and maintain his Ground with Constancy and Reso­lution, he hath done his Business effectually. But the Temptations of Wealth and Prosperity are Vari­ous, I had almost said Insinite; and the Duties which are expected from Persons in that Condi­tion, are proportionably so too. There must be Temperance in the Use of them; Mederation in our Desires; Liberality to those that want the Com­forts [Page 196]we enjoy; Prudence in the Choice of sit Objects to exercise that Liberality upon; Humili­ty, and Meekness, and Condescension, and several o­thers, too numerous to be specify'd particularly. The Indigent Man hath only his own Virtue to take care of; the Rich must preserve That, and hath another Task of Action and Distribution to take Care of afterwards. He that devests him­self of large Possessions, is at leisure for greater and better things, which mov'd some Philoso­phers and Christians to do so. He does at the same time disburden himself of a world of Cares and Sorrows, of Duties and Dissiculties unavoid­able, which attend the Management of himself, first in the Pursuit and Acquisition, then in the Keeping, then in the Using and Dispensing of Wealth. So that upon the whole Matter, (ex­cept when done upon a Principle of Charity and Religion) This is only the declining of Sollici­tude, and Business, and Trouble; and when such Men pretend to Resignation, and Magnanimity, and Contempt of the World, I should make no scruple to tell them very freely, Gentlemen, You re­nounce these things, not because They are Advantageous, and You are get above them, but because You know not how to make a right use of them, and are afraid of the Trouble and Hazard, which those who make it their Business to possess and manage them as they ought, are of necessity exposed to. For when all is done, though Riches do not deserve our Hearts, and are an Ob­ject too low for our Affections, yet they are as much too high for our Disdain. And tho' no Wise Man will suffer himself to be brought into Bondage to them, nor desire them Immoderately, nor get them Indirectly, nor place his Happiness in them; yet when the Bounty of Providence hath dealt them to us fairly, and made them our Lot; in such a Case what Seneca hath observed is undoubtedly [Page 197]true, That for a Man not to be able to bear a plentiful Fortune, is not an Argument of his Wisdom, but a Sym­ptom of his Weakness and Littleness of Soul.

CHAP. XXII. Of Sensuality; and Carnal Love in particular.

1 THis is a burning Fever, and furious Passion; 'Tis stren naturally, and com­mon. and the Consequences of it are insinitely dangerous, when a Man suffers himself to be van­quished and overborn by it. Such a one is no longer at his own Disposal; His Body shall en­dure a Thousand Tortures in pursuit of Pleasure; His Mind a Thousand Reproachings and Self-Condemnations: In short, he feels a perpetual Hell, for the Service and Gratification of his fil­thy Desire; That Desire, if allow'd, and let alone, will turn to Rage and Madness; and yet a great part of this is unavoidable: For Nature hath gi­ven us the Inclination; and That is the Reason why it is common to All, and very strong in the greatest part of Mankind. The Care incumbent upon Us must be, to keep a strait Hand, and a constant Watch over this Passion; To check and divert its first Irregularities, and cool those Fires which we cannot absolutely quench: For, if in­dulg'd, it levels Men with Brutes, stupisies all our Wisdom, baffles our Resolution, confounds our Prudence and Conduct, breaks in upon our Con­templation, hardens the Conscience, blinds the Eyes of the Mind, and disturbs all the Operati­ons of our most noble Faculties. This convinc'd Alexander that he was Mortal; and is such another [Page 198]Argument of our Frailty, as Sleep is; for both of them agree in suspending, suppressing, and binding up the Powers of the Reasonable Soul.

2 Philesophy takes upon it to treat of all manner of Subjects, The Chams C [...]li, whence. and uses great Freedom of Expression in doing so; that so the true Causes of Things may he discover'd, a right Judgment made of them, and proper Rules and Directions given for the governing our selves with regard to them. The same thing Divinity does likewise, which is a Sci­ence insmitely more sublime and resin'd, of ni­cer Honour, and greater Modesly and Reserve. And this Liberty may sometimes be very Conve­nient, nay very Innocent and Chaste; for the Sun shines upon Dunghils without contracting a­ny of the Pollution, or ill Scents, by his Rays that fall there. ‘But this is a Case that requires great Tenderness and Caution, and u­sually Silence is the most becoming, and the most profitable: For one had better altogether conceal and suppress those things, which, when intended for Cood, are yet liable and likely to be made an ill use of, by most of Those, into whose hands they sall. And highly pro­bable it is, that many Persons have learnt to be more exquisite in their Vices of this kind, by those very Precepts and particular Instructi­ons, design'd to teach them how to prevent or conquer those Exorbitances’. 'Tis true in­deed, Nature by strong Impulses persuades to these Gratifications; but yet it is as true, that she teaches us to blush, and be out of Counte­nance at the very Mention of what she is so importunate for. Some indeed pretend, that we ought to be ashahed of nothing that is Natu­ral; and that this A [...]elation of Modesty serves on­ly to sharpen Men's Appetites the more; That we may as well be ashamed for the Infirmities [Page 199]of our Bodies, the spontaneous Motions of our Lungs, and Heart, and Veins, and Arteries; our Eating, and Drinking, and Weariness, and Pain, and Sickness, and Dying; all which, like This before us, have their Motions and Inter­vals, without our Consent or Knowledge; return by certain necessary Causes, and act upon us by unseen Springs; and All, like This too, betray the great Weakness, and Indigent State of Hu­mane Nature. Our Brain discharges it self by Defluxions, our Eyes by Tears, our Body by proper Evacuations; our Faces grow red or pale; our Bodies fat and lean; our Hair black, or white, or grey; and we are not concerned in, or for these things; which yet are no more Natural than This; yet They, or any Discourse of Them, is by no means ignominious or unbecoming, and in the present Case it is. To all which Objecti­ons it were sufficient to oppose the general Sense and Practice of all civiliz'd Persons and Countries, who, in proportion to their being polish'd and re­sin'd above others, have ever exprest a greater Re­serve in educating their Children, in their own Be­haviour and Conversation, and in looking upon all such as Impudent and Profligate, who indulge loose and wanton Discourse; and even They, who are but too much Friends and Slaves to this Pas­sion, choose rather to provoke it by distant My [...] ­rious Expressions, and nauseate the Roug [...] [...] Rudeness of blunt uncomely Language. [...] you will ask, whence this Shame proceeds [...] how that Custom became so general. The C [...] ­tification of these Appetites, I grant you, is [...] shameful in it self in the least: It is truly and properly Natural, and no Shame is due to it sim ply consider'd; for Beasts 'tis plain have no Sense of any. But why do I speak of Beasts? The Sa­cred Oracles of God themselves, have told us ex­presly, [Page 200]that This is no Appendage of our Na­ture; that while Man preserved his primitive Pu­rity, and was in that Condition which was Ori­ginally and truly Humane, he had no Sense of Shame, Gon. ii. 25. nor ever blush'd at his own Nakedness. Every Work of God is Sacred and Good, and nothing but the Abuse can cast a Blemish upon it. So that in truth, Shame is only the Essect of Weakness, and that Weakness the Essect of Sin. Shame came into the World afterwards, and by Accident; it was no part of the Creation, hath no Eeing in Nature, but is the Creature of our own Wickedness, and what we have brought upon our own selves, by making the Workmanship of God, Instruments of Vice and Pollution.

3 The true Reason then, which makes this Passion so violently condemn'd and run down,Hew it is Vibra. is not from any real Vice, or Shame in it, when consider'd abstractedly, and in its own Nature; but from the general Corruption and Inordinacy Men are be­tray'd into by it. For how very few are there, that have any regard to Moderation, or Discreti­on, or Decency? What infinite indirect Methods do they use for the gratifying of these Appetites? What Quarrels and Disturbances, what Wars and publick Consusions, what Desolation and Ruine have been owing to this accursed Cause, this com­mon, but most fatal Incendiary of Mankind? In­somuch that the Wickedness of the Means that in­troduce these Pleasures, and the long black Train of Consequences they draw after them, are worse a Thousand times than the Thing it self: The Expence and Damages are infinitely more than the Purchase is worth. And all these ill Essects are peculiar to Mankind, for other Creatures know nothing of all this Clutter. But Men have used great Industry to Trapan themselves: On one side they make Laws to keep them off, urge Religion, [Page 201]and Modesty, and Decency, to restrain their Desires; and yet, on the other hand, they sharpen and in­flame them, set all their Wits at work to con­trive, to confound, to get over every thing for the compassing their Desires: Witness Comedy and Poetry particularly, whose pretended Beauties, even when most Chaste, were chiefly seen in amorous Subjects; but now they have perfectly prostitu­ted themselves to Lewdness, and seem to design nothing so much, as the laughing Virtue and Re­serve out of Doors, as if These were the things we ought most to be asham'd of. But of all o­thers, the most mischievous Corruption of Na­ture seems to be the setting an extravagant va­lue upon stollen and unlawful Pleasures; repre­senting Injuries of this kind as a piece of Gallan­try and Accomplishment; and suffering those Methods to be despised and ridiculed, which both Divine and Humane Constitutions have assigned for satisfying Men's Natural Desires, by Honest and Honourable Marriage.

For Directions and Remedies against this Vice, consult Book III. Chap. 41.

CHAP. XXIII. Desires.

1 THE Sea it self hath not more Waves and Bil­lows, Desires in­finite. more inconstant nor more furious in their Tossings and Rollings, than the Heart of Man hath Desires. This is a vast and boundless O­cean too, govern'd by Winds and Tides, various and uncertain; it is confus'd and irresolute; some­times [Page 202]wicked and detestable, but very frequently vain and ridiculous in its Desires.

2 But the first and most necessary part of this Consideration, Their Di­stinctions. ought to be a due Care to distin­guish them rightly; for this is what they are ve­ry capable of. And here you may observe, That Some of these are Natural; and they that be so, are just and lawful, and common to Us with Beasts: They are likewise short, and bounded in a narrow Compass; a Man may easily see to the End of them. For These there is abundant Pro­vision, and no Man is poor in this respect. An Occasion of enlarging upon these will present it seif more conveniently hereafter; for in truth they do not properly belong to the Subject we are now upon, since, strictly speaking, they are not Passions.

The Others are either beside, or beyond Nature; they have no Foundation in our Frame and Tem­per, but exist only in our Opinions, and are the Off-spring of Fancy and Imagination; these are Artificially form'd by Industry and strong Impres­sion; they are superfluous too; serve only to grati­fie our Humours, not to supply any real Necessi­ties. And if you wou'd have them distinguish'd from the former by a different Name, call them if you please, the Covetings of the Soul. These are entirely our own; The Portion or the Scandal of our Species. Beasts are altogether unacquainted with them; Man is the only Creature irregular in his Appetites. These have no certain Mark to aim at, no End where to stop; but are eternally in Motion, run wild and at random, and know not what they would have.^* The Desires which Na­ture [Page 203]suggests, are determined and finite; but those which arise from Opinion and Whimsie, are infinite; For Er­rour knows no Bounds. A Man that goes in the Road must come to his Journey's End at last; but he that wan­ders out of the Way, may wander for ever. With re­gard to These, no Man ever was, none ever can be Rich or Contented. Somewhat constantly falls short, or some fresh thing is wanting. Of these it is that the Poet speaks,

To such wanton Longings of the Soul, the Cha­racters set down at the beginning of this Chapter agree; and They are what we mean, and are now treating of under this Head of Passions. These are the things we sweat and toil so vehemently for, the gaining what we might very well be without, and the satisfying Desires which we ought not to entertain. 'Tis upon the Account, and for the Sake of These, That we compass Sea and Land; that we take up Arms, and kill one another; nay, that Men kill and drown themselves, betray and ruine themselves; which gave just grounds for saying, that Covetousness is the Root of all Evil. The Matter indeed is sometimes so order'd by Provi­dence, that this inordinate Passion of the Mind should be made its own Punishment; and while Men are greedy to gratisie their fantastical Wants, and glut themselves with the Riches and Pleasures of Fortune, they lose a real Good, and cut them­selves [Page 204]off from the Advantages of Nature. Which are so much more valuable than the other, that Diogenes, who refus'd the large Present of Money offer'd by Alexander, desir'd as a greater Favour, that he wou'd please to stand aside, and not hin­der him from the Comfort and Brightness of the warm Sun-shine.

CHAP. XXIV. Hope and Despair.

THOSE Desires which are Natural, and these Covetings last mention'd, which are Accidental, and Diseases to the Soul, are che­rish'd by Hope. This inspires them with Warmth and Strength; this blows up our extravagant Ima­ginations with a gentle and pleasing Breath; kin­dles a Fire in our Minds, but raises so thick a Smoak withal, that it quite blinds the Under­standing; our Thoughts are lost and bewilder'd, and violently carry'd away with it; it keeps us in perpetual Suspense, and makes us dream with our Eyes waking. As long as ever our Hopes last, we never let go our Desires. But on the o­ther hand, when once Despair takes possession of us, the Soul is perfectly put upon the Rack; and the Thought that we shall never be able to ob­tain what we aim at, is so torturing and violent, that it bears down all before it; and we lose what we stand actually possest of, for the sake of somewhat which we apprehend impossible to be possest. This Passion is like froward Children, who, when you take away one of their Play­things, throw the rest into the Fire for Madness. [Page 205]It grows angry with it self, turns its own Exe­cutioner, and revenges its Misfortunes upon its own Head. It refuses to live under Disappoint­ments and Crosses, and chooses rather not to be at all, than to be without the Thing which it hath once imagin'd necessary to its Happiness. And thus you have had a short account of those Passions, which have some apparent Good for their Object; we will proceed in the next place to consider those others, which arise from the Apprehension of Evil.

CHAP. XXV. Of Anger.

1 ANger is a foolish and a frantick Passion, which puts us quite besides our selves;Description and by seeking some means of beating back the E­vil, that either approaches and threatens, or hath already reached and fallen upon us, makes the Blood boil in our Hearts, and raises wild and fu­rious Vapours in our Mind; such as blind and per­vert our Reason, and thrust us headlong upon any, tho' never so desperate Attempts, that may con­tribute to the satisfying those Desires we have of taking Revenge, and doing Mischief upon the Person that gave the Provocation. It is a short Madness, and dangerous, not only for the time it continues, but as it prepares and opens the way for a lasting Phrensie and Distraction. The Mo­tions of it are so sudden, the Violence so strong, that it overpowers all our other Passions, swallows them up quite, or carries them along with it by the force of its own Torrent.

2 The Causes from whence it arises are various. Weakness of Judgment, Its Causes. which is most remarkable in Women and Children,I. Aged and Sick People; whom Experience shews to be of all others most fretful and peevish, and easie to be provoked.^* Every thing that is infirm, is naturally disposed to be querulous and froward. It is a Mistake as great as it is common, to imagine that Fierceness and Rage is an Argument of Courage: For all violent Motions are like the Essorts of Old Men and Children, who run when they would walk, and go faster, because they have not Strength enough to go how. There is not in the World any thing so feeble as an irregular and unsteady Motion; and therefore Anger, which is such in the Mind, is rather a Mark of Infirmity and Cowardise. It is a Distemper in the Soul, which makes it ten­der and sore, not able to endure Offences; as Hurts and Wounds in the Body render the Smart of every little Blow intolerable. Were it in a State of perfect Health and Soundness, every Tri­fle cou'd not create so great a Disorder.^† But when all is full of Aches and Diseases, the gentlest Touch is treublesome, and it is always complaining, because always ailing. A Miser will fume and storm for the loss of a Penny, for the missing of some Advantage which he might have gain'd; A jealous Husband will fall into a Rage for the most innocent Smile of his Wise, or the least Glance of her Eye.II. Luxury and Niceness, or any particular Fancy, that renders a Man Singular and Humorsom, and Uneasie, is apt upon the least Accident which crosses that Humour, to put him into Passion; and^‖ No one thing (says a great [Page 207]Philosopher) cherishes Anger more than this vain Tem­per. III. So again does the being fond of any little trifling things, not worth our Affection and Con­cern: A Glass, a Dog, a Bird; This is a Folly that gives us a great deal of Trouble, and often exposes us to most unreasonable Passions; the least of which is more than they can possibly deserve. Another Cause is Curiosity, IV. and a busie inquisitive Temper.^* He that asks too many Que­stions, is sollicitous to disquiet himself: This is so far from avoiding, and conniving at, that it is seek­ing Occasions, hunting about, and following the Scent, and with great Eagerness and Pleasure running abroad after Provocations, without ha­ving the Patience to stay till They come home to Us. Sometimes indeed (says Seneca) Anger comes to Us, but not near so often as We go to It. V. Another is Credulity and Easiness, the suffering our selves to be possest with the first Account, and the first Chance-comer, and not reserving an Ear free for the other side of the Cause, nor suspending our Belief, till more perfect Information. But the Principal,VI. and indeed the very formal Cause of Anger, is an Opinion that we have been undervalu'd, and ill us'd; That some Word, some Look, (for any thing will serve) carried an Air of Con­tempt, and was less respectful than it ought to have been. This is always the Argument angry Men lay hold of in their own Justification. ‘And no wonder then, that Proud Men are most Cholerick, and fuller of Resentment than any others, since no other Disposition makes Men think so much their Due, and consequently in­clines them to be so jealous of Affronts, and Omissions in point of Respect. For which [Page 208]Reason the Scripture tells us,Prov. xiii. 10. xxi. 24. that Only by Pride cometh Contention, in one Place, and Stiles it most Emphatically Proud Wrath in another.’

3 The Signs and Symptoms of this Passion are many, and manifest,Signs of it. more and more visible than those of any other; and so Strange and Strong, that they make a mighty Difference in the Person, alter the whole Temper and Frame both of Body and Mind, transform and turn him into quite another Man. Insomuch, that^* it is not easy to say, whether this Vice be more detestable, or more deformed and disfiguring; Some of these Changes and Symptoms, are outward and apparent: Red­ness and Distortions of the Face, Fieryness of the Eyes, a wild and enraged Look, Deasness and In­sensibility in the Ears, Foaming at the Mouth, Palpitation of the Heart; Quickness and Uneven­ness of the Pulse, Swelling and Bursting Fullness of the Veins, Stammering in the Tongue, Gnashing and Setting of the Teeth, Loudness and Hoarsness in the Voice, The Speech thick and indistinct; and in short, The whole Body is set on Fire, and in a perfect Fever. Some have been transported to such a Degree, upon these Occasions, that their very Veins have broke, their Urine stopt, and they have dropt down Dead, being stifled and strangled with excess of Passion. And what Condition can we suppose their Mind must be in in the mean while, when the Disorders of the Body are so Violent and Dismal? Anger at the first Brush, quite banishes Reason and confounds the Judgment; clears all be­fore it, and takes possession for it self alone; and when it hath got it, then it sills all with Fire and Smoke, with Darkness and Confusion, with Noise and Clamour; It is like a Robber, or an Enemy, that first drives the Master out of Doors, and then sets [Page 209]Fire to his House, and that, with such Fury and Madness, as to destroy and burn it self alive in het Flames. It is like a Ship that hath neither Rudder, nor Pilot; neither Sails, nor Oars, nor Ballast; but floats about at Random, and commits it self to the Mercy of Winds, and Waves, and that, when the Sea rides Highest, and the Storms are Loudest and most Raging. And what can be expected in such a Case, but Strandings and Shipwracks, when there are so many Rocks on every Side, to break her to Pieces, so many Quick-Sands to swallow her up, when she thus lets her self drive upon them?

4 This leads us to consider its Effects; which are indeed, very great, and for the most Part,Its Effects. ex­ceedingly Wretched, and Deplorable.

I. For First; Anger urges and exposes us to In­justice; it takes Fire afresh, and is rendred more Violent and Fierce, by any Opposition, though ne­ver so Reasonable and Fair; and that too, not only by Dispute from others, but even from a Man's own Senses and Reflection, and the being Conscious to himself, that he is Angry, either with­out any just Cause, or to a greater Degree than the Provocation deserved. When a Man hath thus fusser'd his Reason to be shaken and disturbed, let one with all the Calmness imaginable, offer the clearest Vindication, the justest Excuse, any thing to remove or mitigate this Passion, all is to no Purpose, or to worse than none; for Truth and Innocence are still but more enraging, as Seneca observes: In such Cases^* the Unreasonableness of our Passion makes us so much more obstinate and unpersuada­ble, as if the being very Angry, and Implacable, were the best Argument that the Ground of our Anger is Just. The Example of Piso upon this Occasion is well [Page 210]worth our Observation, and the Story is generally known. He, who was in other Respects Eminent for Virtue and Goodness, yet once in Heat of Pas­sion pat Three Persons to Death Unjustly; and strain'd the Law to bring them in Guilty, only because there had been one proved not Guilty, whom he by a former Sentence had adjudged Guil­ty. Anger is likewise exasperated by Silence and Coldness, because such Indisserence speaks Scorn and Neglect; and when Men see their Resentments make no Impression, they look upon them­selves to be slighted and affronted. This is very usual with Women, who oftentimes put themselves into a Passion, purely for the Sake of putting o­ther People into one too; And when they see, that a Man does not condescend to be Angry, and re­fuse to heap on more Fewel, they take all imagi­nable Pains to cherish and blow up their own Fire, and grow perfectly Outragious. So Wild and Sa­vage a Beast is Anger, so Fierce and Intractable, that neither Vindications nor Submissions; neither Excusing nor Acknowledging; neither Speaking nor holding one's Peace, can do any Goood upon it. No soul Means can tame, no fair ones win it over, or make it Gentle. The Injustice of this Passion is farther Evident, in that it always takes upon it self to be both Party and Judge in the same Cause; in that it expects all manner of People that hear or know any thing of the Matter, should take its Part, and justify its Proceedings; and takes it mortally Ill, nay, flies in the very Faces of all that either stand Neuter, or in any Degree seem to think it in the Wrong.

II. A Second Effect of this Passion is Headiness and Obstinacy, Rashness and Inconsideration. It drives us forward, and thrusts us down Head-long, into unspeakable Mischiefs; and very often draws upon our own Heads the very Calamities we are [Page 211]endeavouring to avoid by being Angry; the very same Sufferings, or many times worse than those, which We in the bitterness of our Malice and Re­venge, are so eager to inflict upon others; and thas, while it punishes an Enemy, it tortures and exe­cates it self. This Passion is no ill Resemblance of Great Rains, which crush indeed, and batter what ever they fall upon, but in the same Fall, break themselves to Pieces. Anger is so eagerly bent upon the Hurt and Destruction of others, that it sights out of all Guard, and takes no man­ner of Care to avoid or ward off its own Death. It draws us in, and hampers us in a Thousand Inconveniences; puts us upon speaking and doing many things, that are Base and Unworthy, such as by no means become us, and what we cannot but be, at least we ought to be, most heartily Ashamed of. To be short; it transports Men to those Excesses of Extravagance and Rage, that they know not what they do; ensnares them in the most Injurious, the most Scandalous Actions; hur­ries them into Mischief incapable of any Repara­tion, Murders and Bloodshed; Treachery and Vil­lany, Poisonings, and secret Assassinations. Things that leave long and lasting Remorse behind, and such as they cannot but have very afflicting Re­membrance of ever after. Alexander the Great was a remarkable Instance of this Kind; and [...]ythageras used to say, that where Anger ended, there Repentance always began.

5 This Passion is never to be convinced of Folly; it is Big, and always well Satisfied with its own Di­scretion and Justice; flatters and pleases it self with a Notion, that the Man does well, and wisely, to be Angry; clears it self from all manner of Blame, and lays the whole Fault upon some ill or in­discreet Thing done, that gave the Provocation. But, supposing another guilty of Injustice, it will [Page 212]not therefore follow, that my Anger is guilty of none. Suppose I receive Injury from another Hand, will my paying back the same, or a greater Wrong, take off what I suffer? Will it make me any real Amends, or bring any true Profit to me, that an­other Suffers as well as I? The Truth is, Anger hath too much of Obstinacy, and Hair-brain'd Giddi­ness, ever to do any Good. It pretends to cure one Evil, with another; and when we turn over an Offence to be corrected by this Passion, it is no better than setting Vice to chastise and punish it self. Reason, which ought always to bear the Sword, and exercise the Supreme Authority in our Breasts, does not desire any such Hot-Headed Officers to Execute her Commands, as do things upon their own Head, without waiting for Orders. Reason, like Nature, works easily and gradually, is sedate and slow; and whatever is Violent, is equally Fo­reign, and contrary to both.

But you will say, What? must Virtue then be so Tame and soft, as to see the Insolencies of Vice Triumphant, without any Degree of Indignation and Concern? Must she be so bound up, as not to take the Liberty of being Angry, nor dare to make any Opposition against unreasonable and wicked Men? To this I answer. Virtue hath its Freedoms, but they are such as are Just; it takes, it desires none, that are unsit, or unbecoming. It hath Courage too, but this Courage must not be employed against it self. Nor must another Man's Ill be converted to its Prejudice and Disturbance. A wise Man is as much obliged to bear the Vices of Naughty People without Passion, as he is to see their Prosperity without Envy. The Indiscre­tion of rash and heady Men, must be endured with the same Patience and Pity, that a Good Physician exercises toward his Patients, when they are under the Ravings of a Fever. There is not [Page 213]any one Instance of Wisdom more Commendable in it self, nor more useful to the General Good of the World, than that of being able to bear with the Follies and Extravagances of other People. For if we do not so, the Consequence will be, that we shall fall into the same Extravagances; and by not supporting Their Follies, we make them our Own.

What hath been spoken here at large, of Anger in particular, is in great Measure Applicable to the Passions that follow; such as Hatred, and Envy, and Revenge; for these are the same in Substance, and at the Bottom; They are Anger too, but they are somewhat otherwise modified, appearing in diffe­rent Forms, and cloath'd with different Circum­stances.

Proper Advice, and Remedies, against this Pastion, will be treated of, Book III. Chap. 31.

CHAP. XXVI. Hatred.

HAtred is a very odd Passion. It gives us a great deal of unaccountable Vexation, contrary to all the Reason in the World. And yet, What is there more Torturing and Insupportable, than this Resentment? By It we put our selves perfectly un­der the Dominion of the Thing we hate; and give it a Power to afflict and torment us. The Sight of it disturbs our Senses, ruffles our Spirits, and makes the whole Body Sick, and Disordered: The Remembrance of it raises a Storm in our Minds; and sleeping or waking, sills us with Dis­quiet [Page 214]and Impatience. The Ideas of such Objects, are always hideous and shocking; and we never entertain them without Indignation and Horror, Spight or Grief; some Resentment not easy to be exprest, which puts us beside our selves, and rends our very Heart asunder. Thus we feel in our own Persons, all that Torment we wish an­other, and undergo the Punishment we think due to Him. He that hateth, is at this Rate the Patient, and he that is hated, the Agent. Thus it certainly is to all Intents and Purposes; excepting only, that we think sit to express it otherwise, and deceive our selves with Words, and Names of Things; For it is evident to common Sense, that the Haler is in Pain, and the Person beted, in perfect Ease; perhaps too, in perfect Ignorance of the Matter. But after all, let us consider, and examine this Point a little. What is it that we hate? Men? or Things? Be it the one, or the other, 'tis plain we do not pitch upon the right Object. For if any thing in the World deserves to be Hated heartily, it is Ha­tred it self, and such other Passions, which, like this, breed Discords, and raise Tumults in our Minds, and rebel against that Power, which of Right ought to Command, and bear an absolute Sway in us. For when our Enemies have done all they can, still neither They, nor any Thing else, but such exorhitant Passions as these, can do us any real, and essectual Injury.

For Particular Directions against this Evil. See Bock III. Chap. 32.

CHAP. XXVII. Envy.

Envy is own Sister to Hatred; as like as Two Twins, in their Fierceness and Miserable Ef­fects. This is a wild outragious Beast indeed, more exquisite in Torture, than Ten Thousand Racks; and of All, that wretched Mankind feels, best de­serves the Title of a Hell upon Earth. This lies perpetually corroding, and tearing the Heart-strings, and converts other Mens Happiness into an occa­sion of Our Misery. And how Dreadful, how Incessant must that Vexation be, which both Good and Evil conspire to aggravate? Of the many ill Effects this Passion hath, That is a very considera­ble one; That, while Envious Men look awry upon the Prosperity of others, and grudge them Their Comforts; they unavoidably suffer their Own to perish, and flip through their Fingers; and have no Pleasure or true Enjoyment in all that the most bountiful Providence does, or can beslow upon Themselves.

Directions and Remedies, Proper for this Evil, will be prescrib'de in Book III. Chap. 33.

CHAP. XXVIII. Jealousie.

1 THE Nature and the Effects of Jealousie have a mighty resemblance to that Passion of En­vy last describ'd, excepting only that they differ in this One Circumstance: The Good of other Men is the Object of our Envy; but our own Happiness is the Object of Jealonsie. Some Good, which we are desirous to ingross to our selves, and which we apprehend belongs to Us alone; for which Rea­son we dread and detest the Communication to any Person beside.

2 Jealousie is a Disease of the Soul; an Argument of great Weakness; an evil and a foolish Disease, but withal a furious and terrible one: It rages and tyrannizes over the Mind; insinuates it self under the pretence of extraordinary Friendship and Ten­derness: But when it hath gotten Head, and ta­ken Possession, it builds a mortal Hatred upon the Foundation of Kindness. Vertue, and Health, and Beauty, and Desert, and Reputation, which are the Attractives of our Love and Assection, are likewise the Motives and Incendiaries of this Pas­sion; they kindle and minister fresh Fewel to both these Fires.

3 This is Wormwood and Gall to us: It depraves and embitters all the Sweets of Life; and com­monly mingles it self with our most delightful En­joyments; and these it renders so sower and un­pleasant, that nothing can be more uneasie to us. It tures Love into Hatred, Respect into Disdain, Assurance into Distrust: It breeds a most unhappy [Page 217]Curiosity; makes us busie and inquisitive to our own Ruin; desirous and impatient to know what nothing but the Ignorance of, can keep us tolera­bly easie under; and what, when we do know, there is no Cure for, but such as makes the Mis­fortune worse, and more painful. For Whither does all this Information tend, but only to bring the Matter out of Darkness and Doubt, into clear and open Day; To have Demonstration of our own Unhappiness, and to proclaim it to all the World; To make our selves a publick Jest, and to entail Shame and Dishonour upon our Fa­milies?

Advice and Remedies against this Passion are to be met with in Book III. Chap. 35.

CHAP. XXIX. Revenge.

1 THE Desire of Revenge is, in the first place, a cowardly and esseminate Passion; an Argument of a weak and sordid, a narrow and abject Soul; and accordingly Experience teaches us, that Wo­men and Children, and such others as have mani­festly the feeblest Minds, are ever the most mali­cious, and dispos'd to Revenge. Brave and Gene­rous Minds feel little of these Resentments: They despise and scorn it; either because an Injury, when done to them, does not make any great Impression; or that the Person who does it, is not thought considerable enough to give them any Disturbance; but so it is, that they feel them­selves above any Commotions of this kind, as the Poet says, ‘[Page 218] ^*A Wretch beneath the mighty Caesar's notice.’ Hail, and Thunder, Hurricanes and Tempests, and Earthquakes, all these disorderly Agitations, and loud Ratlings, which we see, and feel, and hear, are form'd in these lower Regions of the Air; They never discompose, or in any Degree affect the Heavenly Bodies and higher Orbs; All there is quiet, and constant, and serene; These frail, and corruptible, and grosser Bodies only are they that suffer by them. And thus it is with the Rage and Folly, the Noise and Brawlings, the Impudence and Impotent Malice of Fools: They never shake great Souls, nor carry so far as lofty and gene­rous Minds: An Alexander or a Caesar, an Epa­minondas or a Scipio, cannot be mov'd by all that such mean Wretches could do or say: For all truly Brave Men, and these in particular, have been so far from meditating Revenge, that, on the con­trary, they were remarkable for doing good to their Enomies.

2 Secondly, This is a very troublesome and rest­less Passion, full of Heat, full of Smart and Sting; it boyls and bubbles in the Breast, and gnaws the Heart like a Viper; distracts the Men in­fected, disturbs their Enjoyments, takes off the Peace and Comfort of their Days, and breaks the Sleep of their Nights.

3 It is also a Passion full of Injustice; for it tortures an innocent Person, and adds Grief and Pain to Him, that was wounded and afflicted before. It is properly the Party's Business who commit­ted the Offence, to labour under the Remorse and the Punishment; and all those other ill Con­sequences, [Page 219]which the Desire of Revenge unavoi­dably draws after it. And yet by this, the Suf­foring and Guiltless Party makes it his Care to load himself with these heavy Burdens, as if the receiving of the Injury were not of it self Af­fliction sufficient, without such voluntary and stu­died Aggravations. Thus it happens frequently, (generally indeed) that, while the Innocent and Injur'd is racking himself with the impatient De­sires, and the Contrivance of proper Methods for Revenge, the guilty Aggressour enjoys himself in Ease and Pleasure, and perhaps makes the Other's Uneasiness a Jest and a Diversion. But This is only the Beginning of Mischiefs and Injustice; for the Means of putting such Desires in execution are yet insinitely more so; which indeed are of all, of any kinds; Baseness and Treachery, Per­jury and Subornation, a secret Stab, or an Am­buscade of Russians; in short, the foulest, black­est, and most Villanous Designs: For one peculiar ill Effect of this Vice is, that it extinguishes all Natural Justice, breaks through all the Restraints of Honour and Duty, and sticks at no Practice, tho' never so foul and detestable, to accomplish its Bloody Intentions.

4 Lastly. The very Execution of these Designs, is not only painful and difficult; but extremely dan­gerous: For Experience shews us daily, that he who endeavours to revenge himself, does not ef­fect his whole Wish, nor is in every Point succes­ful: Either he meets with a Defeat, and cannot do the Mischief he wou'd; or at least he is dis­appointed as to his own Security and Satisfaction, and suffers the Mischief he wou'd not. He at­tempts to put out One of his Enemy's Eyes, and at the same time puts out Both his own. He renders himself obnoxious to Justice, and brings Trouble and Danger to all his Friends; is lost to [Page 220]the World, and to his own Quiet; fore'd to hide and flee from Place to Place, and is every where dogg'd close at the Heels by his own guil­ty Fears.

5 And after all; the Killing an Enemy, and dis­patching him out of the way, may be Cruelty; but it is not properly Revenge: For a Man does then only take Satisfaction and Revenge, when he Hum­bles his Enemy, and forces him to Suffering and Submission; not when he puts him past all Suffer­ing, and out of the reach of his Anger; the ren­dring of which Sensible and Painful, is the only End Revenge can propose to it self. Accordingly we see, no Man is so vain and absurd, to fall foul upon a Stone, or a Brute; because he knows these cannot feel, or cannot consider the Effects of his Rage. In all true Revenge, it is necessary, that the Person who executes it, shou'd receive some Satisfaction in the Pains he inflicts; and that the Person, on whom it is inflicted, should feel the Smart, and be humbled by the Sorrow, and pay so dear for the Injury he hath done, that he may be made to repent it. But a Man that is killed, is out of any condition of Grief or Repentance; he is indeed from thenceforth esse­ctually secur'd from all manner of Sussering: Whereas, on the contrary, the Revenger himself continues in a Capacity of both, and oftentimes feels the Weight of his own Displeasure, by a State of fix'd Sorrow and Fear ever after. Killing then is only a Betraying of our Cowardise. It is the Consequence of our being afraid, that the Person we intend to punish, shou'd Resent to our Preju­dice, and take an opportunity of paying us again in our own Coin. We are willing from these Apprehensions to make an End of him at once, and rid our selves from any future Hazard; which is indeed to quit our Point, to lose the End of [Page 221]Revenge, and cast a Blemish upon our own Re­putation. It is an Artifice, and an act of Cauti­on, rather than of Courage; It is an Intention to make sure Work, and consults our Safety much more than our^* Honour.

CHAP. XXX. Cruelty.

CRuelty is a most horrid and detestable Vice, a Quality peculiar to Villains and Brutes; so contrary to Nature, that it is distinguish'd by that scandalous Name of Inhumanity.

It proceeds from, and indeed is the natural Ef­fect of Baseness and Cowardise: For Valour and Generosity never exert their Power, except where they meet with Opposition. They have done their Business, and hold their hand, as soon as they find an Enemy subdu'd, and at their Mercy. This was the true Courage of brave old Romans, ^† to humble the Obstinate, and spare the Vanquish'd.

But Cowardise, which affects a false Greatness, and pretends to Triumphs, which belong not to it, gluts it self with Blood and Massacres, instead of Generous Conquering: And accordingly, we al­ways find, that Carnage and Slaughter, have only Common Soldiers, and the Plundering part of the Army, for its Executioners. And no surer Sign in [Page 222]the World can be given of Men's being timorous Poultrons, than their being fierce and bloody, and void of Pity and Remorse. This is the very Thing that disposes Tyrants and Usurpers to Cru­elty; They live always in fear, and never think themselves tolerably safe, till those, that are in any condition of giving them Disturbance, are utterly extirpated; and therefore they lay about them, and fall foul upon every Body, without distincti­on; neither Age nor Sex can move Compassion, or seem inconsiderable enough to be spared.

Sneaking and timorous Dogs bite and tear to Pie­ces the Skins and Carkasses of wild Beasts, which they run away from, when alive and in the Fields. And what account can be given, why Civil Wars, and Popular Insurrections shou'd spill more Blood than foreign Engagements? What more probable than This, that the great Ringleaders and Actors in Seditions and Domestick Differences, are the Mobb and Refuse of the People; whereas the Other are begun and fought upon Principles of Honour and Jusstice, by fair and generous Enemies? When the Emperour Mauritins had receiv'd Information, that one Phecas, a Soldier in his Army, design'd to Kill him, he enquir'd into the Temper and Cha­racter of the Man: And upon his Son-in-Law Philip's acquainting him, that he was a Cowardly Fellow, the Emperour presently concluded, there was Danger indeed, and that such a one was cut out for Barbarity and Murder. Sometimes, 'tis true, Another Cause may be given for this Quali­ty, [Page 223]which is an inward Malignity and Spight; a Soul that rejoyces in Mischief, and Feasts upon Blood; such as Caligula seems to have been parti­cularly. But it is to be hoped, few such Instances of Depravity are to be found; for indeed they are not Men, but Monsters in Humane Shape.

CHAP. XXXI. Grief.

1 GRief is a Sinking and Despondency of the Mind, Definition of it. when dejected by an Opinion of some very great Evils lying heavy upon us. It is a very dangerous Enemy, destructive to our Quiet and Comfort; and, if good Care be not taken of it in time, wastes and weakens the Soul, deprives us of the Use of our Reason, disables us from discharging our Duties, and looking after her Business; and in time spreads a Rust upon the Soul, adulterates and deposes the whole Man, binds up his Senses, and lays his Virtues to sleep, when there is most occasion for rowzing and ar­ming them against the Calamity, that subdues and oppresses him. In order to beget in us a becoming Aversion to this Passion, and employing our ut­most Strength and Abilities to resist and repel it, we shall do well to consider seriously the pernici­ous Effects of it, and discover how foolish, how unbecoming and deformed it is; how extremely inconsistent with the Character of Wise Men, as the Philosophy of the Stoicks most truly represents it. But This, as Matters are commonly order'd, is no such easie Undertaking; for it hath learnt to excuse, and vindicate, and set it self off under [Page 224]the specious Colours of Nature, and Affection, and Tenderness, and Goodness; nay the Generali­ty of the World are so far mis-led, that they keep it in Countenance, pay it Honour and Respect, and think it a Duty and a Virtue; as if Wisdom and Conscience never appear'd more beautiful than in a Mourning-Dress.

2 Now in answer to these vain Pretences in its Favour, Tis Unna­tural. we may observe first of all, that This is so far from being agreeable to Nature, as it wou'd fain be thought, that, on the Contrary, it is ra­ther a Matter of Formality, and directly contrary to Nature: Which it is very easie to demonstrate, if Men will lay aside the Prejudices of Custom, and consider it impartially. As for those publick and solemn Mournings, (I mean not this to the prejudice of a real, decent, and affectionate Con­cern) but for the Mournings which are practis'd with so much Ceremony and Affectation, and were so by the Ancients heretofore, as well as by the Generality of Mankind at this Day; Where, I say, can we find a greater Cheat, a grosser Sham and Banter upon the World? How many indu­strious Impostures and Hypocrisies? What artificial Constraints in our Behaviour are sought, and coun­terfeited, both by the Persons themselves, who are interested in the Occasion of them; and of all the rest that are taken in, and bear a Part in this me­lancholy Pomp? And, as if all this were not enough, we refine and improve the Deceit, we even Hire Men on purpose to put on this Folly, to stand as Mutes, or to make dreadful Lamentations; to move and heighten a Passion which ought to be supprest; to give Groans and Sighs for a Price, such as we all know are feign'd and extorted; to shed Tears for the Entertainment of the Specta­tours, such as fall, only when they are seen to do so, and are immediately dry'd up, as soon as the [Page 225]Company retires: And, pray, Where does Na­ture teach us any thing like This? What can there be indeed more absurd and vain; what does Nature condemn, what does it detest more than such Insincerity? This is nothing but Opinion and Fashion, the Cause and Cherisher of almost all our Passions; the Tyranny of Custom, and Vul­gar Errour, that instructs Men to indulge their Grief in such a formal manner. From hence it is, that, if a Man be not deeply enough affected in his own Person, and cannot furnish a sufficient proportion of Tears and hanging Looks out of his own Stock, he is thought oblig'd to hire and pur­chase a Supply from others who make a Trade of it. So that for the satisfying what the World calls Decency, we put our selves to vast Expence; which Nature, if we wou'd take Her Judgment, is so far from prescribing, that She most freely ac­quits us of, nay condemns us for it. Is not this, in truth, a publick and study'd Assront upon Reason and Common Sense, a Constraint and a Corrupt­ing of Nature, a Prostituting and Debauching of the Manhood in us, a Mocking the World, and making a Jest of our selves; and that for no o­ther purpose, but merely to comply with the No­tions of the absurd Vulgar, which abound in no­thing so much as Falshood and Mistake, and ad­mire nothing so much as Counterfeit and Dis­guise?

Nor are our Private Sorrows much better:Private. For These, whatever they may seem, are no more Natural than the former. Did Nature inspire or dictate them, they wou'd be common to all Man­kind; they wou'd affect all Mankind almost equal­ly; since All partake of the same Nature, and dif­fer only in some few, some small Circumstances. But here we find very different Resentments: The same Objects, which afflict and grieve some, are [Page 226]Matter of Joy and Satisfaction to others; and what draws Tears and bitter Cries from one Per­son, and one Country, is receiv'd with great Cheer­fulness by another. What One does, Another dis­approves; and the Friends of Mourners think it their Duty to exhort, to comfort, to chide them, to beg that they wou'd recollect themselves, call in Reason and Religion to their Assistance, be Men a­gain, and dry up their Tears. Observe the great­est part of Them who take pains to afflict them­selves; hear what they say when you have given them this good Counsel; They will make no diffi­culty to acknowledge, that it is a Folly and a Weakness, to be guilty of excessive Passions; they will commend and call those happy, who can stand the Shock of Adversity, and have so much Go­verment of Temper, and such Presence of Mind, as to meet an Affliction bravely, and bear it stea­dily, and set a gallant and Masculine Spirit in ar­ray against it. Thus they excuse, but they dare not justifie their own Concern; They say, they cannot help it, and by that Apology, lament, if not condemn themselves; for this implies they Wish, and think it were better, if they cou'd o­vercome their Grief. And, in truth, the thing is very plain in these private Mournings too, that Men do not so much sute their Sorrows to their Sufferings, as to the receiv'd Notions of those, a­mong whom they dwell and converse. And if we take a close and nicer View, this will discover to us, that Opinion is at the bottom of all our immoderate Melancholy; That our Torment and Vexation proceeds from the false Representations of Things; and that we grieve, either sooner than we ought, by Anticipation, and Fear, and sollici­tous Apprehensions of what will come hereafter; Which, like so many false Perspectives, set the Object nearer our Sight, or else magnifie the [Page 227]Bulk of it to our Eye, and so make us grieve more than we ought, upon a Supposal of the Calami­ty being much greater, than really it is.

3 But still all This is contrary to Nature: Unnatural. For Grief defarms and defoces all those Excellencies, which are most Beautiful and Lovely in us. These all are blunted and melted down by this corroding Passion, like the Lustre of a Pearl, dissolv'd in Vi­neger. And really we are then a miserable Sight, our Head hanging down, our Eyes fixed upon the Ground, our Tongue Speechless, our Limbs stiff and Motionless, our Looks Wild and Confused, our Ears Deaf and Insensible, our Minds void of all Attention and composed Thought. How distant is this from the Beauty, the Dignity, the Maje­sty of our Original Form and Temper? Are these Men? You may better call them walking Statues, which only sweat forth Moisture at their Eyes; like Niobe, whom the Poets, to represent the Mi­series of Excessive Grief, have feigned to be trans­formed into a weeping Marble.

4 But it were well, if this Passion, Impious and Unjust. being Unna­tural, were the worst of it; I have a yet much more heinous Accusation to charge it with; For it flies in the Face of God himself, and Arraigns his Justice, and Wisdom, and Providence. What better Construction can any Man in Reason put upon our Rash Complaints, and Outragious Passions, than a Mind discontented with the Great Governour of the Universe, and his Disposals of Us, and our Affairs? To murmur and repine at what is done by Him, is to find Fault with him who does it; and in an oblique, and little more respectful Way, to charge him with Folly or Hard-dealing. The Law and Condition, which he hath fixed to him­self for the Government of the World, is, that all things in these Sublunary Regions shall be Changeable and Inconstant, ever in Motion, and [Page 228]subject to Decays and Death. If then we know this to be their Condition, why do we afflict our selves for that, which is the common Fate of all here below; for that which could not be New, and should not be a Surprise to us; what if we did not, yet we might, and ought to have expected? And if we did not know this, the truest and on­ly reasonable Matter for grieving, is our own most wretched Ignorance, Of a Truth, so Evident, so Useful, so Necessary to be known; a Truth, that Nature hath Graven every where, in Characters so Large and Legible, that it is impossible for us to go abroad and not meet it, or to turn our Eyes any way at home, and not read it. Others, our Selves, and Every Thing carry this Inscription. Alas! we mistake our Post, and Quality. Man's Business here is not to give Laws, but to receive and submit to them. The Administration of Af­fairs, is lodged in higher and better Hands. The Order of the Universe is established; and We, who are but a very small Part of this vast Body, must follow the Motions of the Whole, and take con­tentedly what falls to our Share. To fret and vex our selves, is to be concern'd, that Eternal Ordinances, are not reversed and dissetled for our Sakes; that We are not made an Exception to all Created Nature; which, besides the Intolerable Ar­rogance, and Impiety it is guilty of against God, is no less insupportable Folly with Respect to our selves; for it mends not the Matter one whit, but adds Weight to what Providence hath laid upon us already, and makes all our Sufferings double.

5 For we must add too, Destru­ [...]ve. that it is exceeding de­stru [...]ve, and of extreme ill Consequence to Men; The Danger whereof is but the more increased, by its hurting us, under a Pretence of doing us Good. It flatters with false Hopes, and a fair [Page 229]shew of Relief; but in Reality aggravates the Mis­fortune; and while it professes to draw the Weapon out of our Side, makes the Wound wider and deeper, and thrusts a Dagger into our Hearts. Be­sides, these Thrusts are infinitely the more Difficult to defend our selves against; because it is a Domestick Enemy that gives them; One that we cannot run away from, One that is fed and cherished within our own Bosoms, and which we our selves have bred up and given Birth to, merely to be a Vexa­tion and a Punishment to us

6 The Effects, indeed, of Grief, Outwardly. are Universally Mischievous; they spread themselves quite over the whole Man; and while they infect, do very much impair every Part of him. As to the external Appearance: It Dishonours, and is a Reproach to the Man, by that Deformity, and Change of Coun­tenance, brought upon him by this Means. Do but observe, when once Grief enters, how it fills Men with Shame and Confusion, so that they dare no more shew themselves in Publick, nay, so as to shun the Sight and Conversation even of their most intimate Friends, and particular Acquaintance. When once we are under the Dominion of this Passion, the Light it self is offensive, and our Great Care is, to seek out some dark Corner, some close Retreat, to crouch, and hide our selves in, far from the Eyes and Observation of every Body. Now what can be the Meaning of all This, but a plain unnatural Confession of its own In­decency, and how much Men ought to be asham'd of what they do at that time? Is not this evident­ly to condemn it self? and would you not be apt to think, This was some Woman caught in Adul­tery, that runs away, and hides her Face, and takes such Pains not to be seen or known?

Next to the Person; observe the Habit, what strange, uncouth, effeminate Things, the Mourn­ing Weeds are, as if our very Clothes were in­tended to publish to the World, that Grief utterly destroys, and takes away all that is Manly and Brave about us; and in its Room, gives us all the Softnesses, and Infirmities of Women. According­ly the Thracians always drest Men, when they were in Mourning, in direct Womens Habit; and a certain Author observes, that Grief enervates Men, and wasts their Strength. The old Roman Laws, which were the most Noble and Masculine (like the Spirits of those that made and lived under them) strictly prohibited all such Effeminate La­mentations, and long indulged Sorrow. They thought very truly, that it was a horrible Absur­dity for Men to act in Contradiction to Nature and Reason, and thus Unman themselves. And all the Allowance they were content to make, was only for the First Gush of Passion, while it was fresh, and tender, or surprising; For there are Tears, that may be permitted to fall from the Eyes of Philosophers themselves. A Man may keep up the Dignity of his Nature, and yet not aban­don the Humanity of it: This we are bound to pre­serve, as well as not to debase the other; and there­fore all, that those Roman Laws, and these Refle­ctions aim at, is, so to Temper and get the Ma­stery over our Passion, that while the Tears fall from our Eyes, Virtue and Wisdom may not fall from our Hearts, at the same time.

7 But the outward Fadings of the Beauty, disfi­guring the whole Man, Inwardly. and changing his Mein and Air, and Behaviour, so infinitely to Disadvantage; no, nor yet that corroding Venom, which eats in­to our very Joints, and Marrow, and as the Wise Man expresses it, drieth up the Bones; these mise­rable Effects, I say, upon the Body, are not All; [Page 231]It goes deeper yet; decays the Soul, breaks all its Rest, confounds and disturbs its Operations, disa­bles and draws off the Man from any Virtuous or Honourable Designs; palls, and flats his Relish of Goodness, extinguishes the Desire of Reputation, and takes away the Disposition of doing Worthily, either for himself, or for any body else: Nay, it does not only unqualify him for the doing, but for the receiving Good from any other Hand. For even the most Prosperous Occurrences, are grown insipid, or unpleasant to him; and every Thing turns Sour upon his Mind, as all kinds of Meat do upon distempered Stomachs. In short, Grief embitters a Man's whole Life, and poysons all his Actions.

8 It may be considered with respect to the De­grees of it; Distin­guished. and a Difference ought to be made between the Greatness, and the Extremity of it; as there should also, between That, which runs into Excess, and grows ungovernable altogether from it self; and That which is pushed on, and aggravated by the Suddenness of an Accident. In such a Case, Surprise and Consternation alarms, seises, transports the Man; takes away all Motion and Sense, stupifies and turns him into a Stone, like that wretched Mother Niobe,

And in these Cases, great Allowance is to be made for Natural Affection; upon which account that Painter is admitted to have understood his Busi­ness [Page 232]well, who when he was to draw Iphigenia go­ing to be Sacrificed, represented the several Po­stures and Countenances of her Mourning Friends, and more distant Relations, with great Curiosity, and Artifice; but when he came at last to her Father, he cast a Veil over His Face. Thus wise­ly covering that Sorrow, which no Pencil could sufficiently express. But Grief, as it often exceeds the Power of Art and Representation in the Copy, so sometimes it is too strong for the Original; too grievous to be born, and kills the Man out­right. This finds no Vent; But that which is Mo­derate, or indeed, that which is very Great, wears off by Tract of Time, by Diversion, and Business, and other Avocations of the Mind; And that which helps This forward, is, that it expresses and cases it self, by Tears, and Sobs, and Sighs, and sad Complaints; all which are some Mitigation to the suffering Party, and much more Comfortable than Insensibility and Silence.

Directions, and Helps, against this Evil, are given Book III. Chap. 29.

CHAP. XXXII. Compassion.

WE mingle Sighs and Tears with those that are in Affliction; we feel, in some Degree, their Misfortunes, and take Part in their Pains. Whether it be, from some secret Sympathies in Na­ture, whereby the Sentiments of one Man are con­veyed to, and produce the like in another; or whe­ther it be from sad Presages, by which we are apt to fear, that, whatever our Neighbours suf­fer now, may happen to be our own Case ano­ther Day.

Now, This (so far as it is Vicious) is the Pas­sion of a Weak Mind; A Foolish Pity, that pro­ceeds from too much Tenderness, and from an Indisposition in the Soul, whereby it is apt to be vehemently disordered, and fall into great Trou­bles upon slight Occasions. Hence Women and Children are most affected with it; and so are the Cruel and Spightful too (who, as was said be­fore, are always Cowardly and fearful:) For these, tho' they know nothing of that Noble and Ge­nerous Compassion, which is a Virtue; yet of this Vicious One, they have their Share. Such (for Instance) as express mighty Concern for Villains and Malefactors, when they endure the Punish­ment of the Law, and smart for their Faults. Now, the Effects of such a Pity are very Unjust, and so are the Causes of it too; for, to spare the Guil­ty, is to injure, and endanger the Innocent; and all that Tenderness, proceeds only from superficial Appearances, and want of Thought, which looks [Page 234]no farther than just the present Circumstances of the Suffering Party, without any Regard at all had to the Merits of the Cause, and how Reasonable it is, that such Punishment should be inflicted up­on him.

Concerning This, See more Book III. Chap. 30. Where you have likewise the just Distincti­on, between the Virtuous, and Vicious Com­passion; omitted here, to avoid Repetitions.

CHAP. XXXIII. Fear.

1 FEAR is the Apprehension of some Evil to come, Description of it which stands over us, and keeps us per­petually in Awe; it fills us full of Anxious Thought, and very Officiously runs before, to give Notice of the Calamities, which Fortune threatens us with.

We are not speaking at present, concerning that Fear of God, so highly recommended in Holy Scri­pture; so exceeding Useful and Necessary a Check upon Men's Minds, in Order to a Good Life: Nor is this Chapter to be understood, as if it rela­ted at all to that anxious and tender Concern, which proceeds from Affection and Duty; or such as makes a Part of that Obedience and Respect, due from Inferiours, of all Sorts, to their Superi­ours; But only of that troublesome, and tormenting Passion, which is the Spawn of Sin, and Shame, and a disordered Mind. For these Terrours, entred the World, at the same Instant with Guilt, and Re­proach; and are the wretched Off-Spring, of the Corruption of our Souls, and a secret Familiarity with the Devil. It was upon yielding to his wicked [Page 235]Suggestions, that our General Ancestor first disco­vered these misgiving Horrours upon his Consci­ence. I was afraid, because I was naked, and I hid my self. Gen. iii. 10.

2 It is a Passion full of Fraud and Malice; and, The Malice and Tyran­ny of it. indeed, can never hurt, or gain Advantage over us, except when we are cheated, and seduced by it. It makes use of the Time to come, which we can have no manner of Insight into; so throwing us into a Place of Darkness; and making the same Use of Futurity, which Thieves do of the Night; (which is, to compass their Designs undiscover'd, and to scare and terrify us much more, than the Occasion requires.) When it hath got us there, it puts on a Thousand several Vizors, and repre­sents our Misfortunes under the most frightful and gastly Forms imaginable: Thus we are cheated again, as Children are with Fancies, and Bugbears; and dread those Evils in variety of Shapes, which can have in reality but one Face; Evils which have nothing in their own Nature, capable of do­ing us any Hurt; and such as would not be Evils to us, if we did not call and believe them so. It is nothing else, but merely the Apprehension we have of things, which renders those Accidents Evils, that in themselves are no such Matter. And This is so Powerful, and so Pernicious, that it turns our very Good into Evil, and from our Prosperity takes Occasion to afflict, and make us Miserable. How many Wretches, do we see every Day; Wretches of their own making? who actually be­come Unhappy for the very Dread of being so, and have improv'd their Empty Fears, into Solid and Substantial Miseries? How many People have lost their Friends, merely through Distrust, and not daring to make Use of them? and how many have made themselves sick, with the very Ter­rors and Apprehensions of Sickness? Here is a jea­lous [Page 236]Coxcomb, that fancies his Wife hath played him Foul, and teazes himself into a Consumption, 'till he pines and droops into his Grave, with this tormenting Suspicion. Another anxious Fool is afraid of falling into Poverty, and he racks himself into a Disease; and dies, for Fear of not having enough to live upon. Nay, there are se­veral, who have been kill'd with the very Fear of Death; and that you may not think this so very odd, let me observe to you, that something like it happens every Day in most, if not in all the Objects of this Passion. Our Fear, generally serving to very little Purpose, otherwise than the drawing down upon our Heads, the very thing we Pretend to run away from. Undoubtedly no Ca­lamity whatsoever, is near so great, or grievous to be born, as the Fear of it. For Other Evils can hurt us only while they have a Real Exi­stence, and are actually upon us; when the Cause is removed, the Effect and the Pain immediately cease. But Fear is not so confin'd; It extends to Things that have no Being, as well as to such as have; nay, to things which neither are, nor per­haps ever will be; and, that we may be assur'd, there is no End of its Extravagances, it fixes sometimes upon things which we may be very confident never can be. So very ingenious is this Passion to torment us, so malicious and spight­ful, so merciless a Tyrant; It extracts real and cut­ting Pains out of Shadows; and refines upon Ima­ginary Evils, till it consolidates, and makes them weighty ones: And for those which minister some Ground for Fear, it is wonderful busie, and trouble­somely officious; it takes Post, and brings us News, which it were better not to hear; for it creates imaginary, and anticipates all our actual Sufferings, by Opinion and Expectation.

Fear does not only fill us with dreadful Im­pressions, and oftentimes disturb our Repose with false Alarms; but, which is worse, it taints and destroys all our Happiness, breaks in upon our Quiet, and checks all our Delights. No Man can be easie, or take pleasure in the Enjoyment of a Blessing, which he is in perpetual fear of Losing. Life it self cannot be a Satisfaction to a Man that lives in dread of Dying: And One of the Ancients hath observ'd very truly, That no Ad­vantage can minister true Joy to us, which we have not such a Mastery of, as to be prepared to part with it, whenever Providence shall demand it back again.

4 It is wonderful to observe the Folly and Im­prudence of this Passion; for indeed it excels all others in Rashness and Indiscretion. It arises sometimes from want of Courage, it is provoked by a Prospect of Dangers; and yet it frequently doubles our Difficulties, and exposes us to greater Dangers: For it makes us eager and impatient to deliver our selves from them; and thus it casts us into Confusions and Amazements, perplexes our Judgment, blinds our Understanding, and hinders us from discerning and taking the proper Me­thods of getting out of the Labyrinths we are in. It distracts us with Terrours, and drives the Mind back again into it self, where the Violence of its Passion interrupts the Debates, and overlooks those very Opportunities of escaping, that offer them­selves. Add to this, the great Dejection and Dis­couragements, which will not let us dare to do what we ought, for our Safety; we lose our Rea­son, and the Resolution to use it; we flee when no Man pursues, start and tremble at our own Shadow; nay, flee from that which is our best and only Sanctuary, run away from our Friends, and [Page 238]apprehend Destruction from them which advance to our Relief.^* Our very Succours strike new Terrour into us. Some have been transported with this Passion, even to the degree of perfect Stupidity; the Senses are put besides themselves, and lose the power of discharging their Duty; our Eyes are broad open, and yet we see not; Men discourse to us, and we hear not a Word they say; we at­tempt to run, and make our Escape, but stand fixt like Statues, and cannot move a Step.

5 This Passion, when moderate, adds Wings to our Feet; but when extreme, and in excess, it nails and fastens us down, or entangles and con­founds us in our Flight. Thus Fear supplants our Natural Powers, depraves and disables the whole Man, enfeebles Body and Mind, baffles our wisest Designs, and banishes Thought.

Sometimes it makes Men desperate; and so, that the giving all for lost is for their great Advan­tage; for it inspires them with Resolutions of sel­ling their Lives as dear as they can, and puts them upon doing Wonders. An Instance where­of we have in that Roman Legion commanded by Sempronius, in their Engagement against Han­nibal.

There are also some Fears and Terrours, with which Men have been strangely possessed without any visible ground; as if they were Thunder­struck from above; or God by a particular Pro­vidence had determin'd to infatuate and dispirit them, in order to their Destruction. These sud­den Amazements are what we commonly call Panick Fears; and we read, that the City of Car­thage was once thus seiz'd with Confusion; for such are not always confin'd to single Persons, or small Numbers; but whole Nations and vast Ar­mies have been universally seiz'd, and unaccount­ably struck with them. And our Blessed Saviour instances in This, as one of the Judgments sent from Heaven upon the wicked Jews. Luke xxi. Men's Hearts failing them for Fear.

Particular Directions and Remedies against this Passion, will be given in Book III. Chap. 28.

CHAP. XXXIV. The Second Way of considering Man; which is, by stating the Comparison between Him, and other Animals.

1 HItherto we have consider'd Man entire, and with regard to Himself alone:A useful but diffi­cult Com­parison, such as Man is partial in. The next Step, by which we propose to advance in the Knowledge of him, is by stating a Comparison between Him and other Animals; and This is a very excellent help toward making a right Judg­ment in the Case. Now this Comparison is of large extent; it consists of many Branches, re­quires great Skill, and wou'd prove of mighty Be­nefit and Consequence, if well and truly made: But the Question is, Who must make it? Shall Man? He is a Party in the Cause, and liable to very just Exception; for it is much to be fear'd, when the Issue is his own Concern, the Verdict will not be honest. And accordingly we see, how partial and unfair he is in all he says of Himself; for he knows no Mean, he proceeds with no Moderation, but is eternally in Extremes. Some­times he is big, and pleas'd with Himself; looks down upon the lower World with Disdain; and calls himself the Lord of all the Creatures; divides their Morsels among them, and cuts out for each Species, such a Proportion of Faculties, and natural Power, as His Lordship, vouchsafes to allow them: At Other times, instead of all this Gayety and Pride, you find him full of black Discontent, and then he debases himself as much, murmurs and frets, grum­bles [Page 241]and complains, gives Providence hard Words, and calls Nature a cruel Step-mother, that hath made him the Refuse of the World, the most wretched of all her Productions; and dealt to Him the least and lowest Portion of all her Chil­dren. Now in truth, both the One and the Other of these Opinions are equally false, unreasonable, and extravagant. But what can we expect better from him? or how is it to be thought, he shou'd carry himself evenly and fairly, and act justly with other Creatures, when he is, as we shall shortly see, so infinitely out of all measure, in his Notions towards God, his Superiour; and Man, who is his Equal? But, besides this Byass upon his Judgment, there is another Difficulty upon his Understanding: For which way shall he get a com­petent Knowledge of the inward Powers, and un­seen Motions of other Animals? So that if he were inclin'd to be Just, and to hear the Evidence impartially, yet he must needs be an improper Judge, to whom the most material part upon which the Sentence ought to be grounded, can­not be given in Evidence. And such are those inward Operations of Brutes, which we can have no certain or competent perception of. How­ever, we will try at present to state this Com­parison, as evenly, and calmly, as we can pos­sibly.

2 Now first, we are to consider, that the Order and Constitution of the Universe is not vastly unequal; There are no great Irregularities, nor large void Spaces in it; nor such Unlikeness and wide Disproportion between the several Parts that go into this Composition, as some People may imagine. The Excellencies of the several Species rise and fall gradually; And those, whom Na­ture hath placed near, or close to one another, have all of them a mutual Resemblance; tho' [Page 242]some have more, and some have less of it. And thus we may observe a near Neighbourhood, and close Affinity between Mankind and other Ani­mals. They are a-kin in many things, and seve­ral Properties are alike, and common to both. Se­veral things indeed there are, wherein they dif­fer; but these are not so vastly disproportionate and distant, but that they still are next adjoyning Links, twisted within one another, in the great Chain of the Universe. So that Man is neither in all respects superiour, nor inferiour in all. For that which befalleth the Sons of Men, befalleth Beasts; even one thing befalleth them both; says the Wisdom of God himself. (Eccles. iii. 19.)

3 We will begin with those things which are com­mon to both, and very near the Matter of being alike in both; such as, Generation, Nutrition, Motion, Acti­on, Life and Death. For (says the same Divine Wisdom) As the one dieth, so doth the other; so that a Man (in this respect) hath no Pre-eminence above a Beast. And This is a Confutation of those fool­ish repining People, and all their melancholy Com­plaints, that represent Man, as the only Creature, whom Nature hath discountenanc'd and disgrac'd, abandon'd and forsaken; turn'd naked into the wide World, and cast upon the bare Ground; without any Covering, without any Natural Wea­pons to shelter or defend him; bound up, and swaddel [...]d; and utterly ignorant and unfurnish'd of what is fit for him: Whereas to all Others she hath been much more bountiful; Clothed them with Shells, or Hair, or Wool, or Shag, or Fea­thers, or Scales; Armed them with Tusks, or Horns, with Bills, or Claws, or Talons, to act offensively or defensively, as occasion requires; qualify'd them, without any help of Art or Industry, for Swimming, Running, Flying, Singing, Looking out for Food, and Sustaining themselves. But Man, poor [Page 243]neglected Man, (they tell you) is Taught to Go, Taught to Speak; nay, requires Help and Teach­ing for the very Feeding and Supporting himself, and attains to nothing without Time and Trou­ble, and serving an Apprenticeship. In short; He is perfect in no other Instance of Nature's teach­ing, except that of Crying: This is all we bring into the World along with us; and a very fit Em­blem it is of our Fortune and Condition. Now all these melancholy Complaints, which make dis­advantageous Reflections upon the Original Com­position of Mankind, and that which is truly the State of Nature; are altogether unjust and false. For first, Our Skin is sufficiently fortify'd against all the Injuries of Weather;1. Naked­ness. Chap. XIV and so Na­kedness is no Argument of our being less Nature's Care, than any other Creature. Several Nations, (as I have observ'd heretofore) never yet so much as knew what Clothes are; and even We that do, can go bare in any Parts, even the ten­derest and most sensible; when Inclination, or Custom, or some particular Fashion, dispose us to it. For where of all our Body is the Sense quick­er, than in the Face, the Hands, the Stomach? And yet what Lady, even the nicest and tender­est of her Sex, scruples to expose her Neck and Breasts, (when the Mode requires that Dress) even in the Extremity of Winter?2. Swalling Clothes. Swathes and Rollers may be convenient, but tis plain they are not necessary in Children; for the Lucedaemonians heretofore made no use of them; nor do the Swisses and Germans that dwell in cold Countries; nor Biscans, nor those Vagabonds and Common Cheats, that go by the Name of Gypsies, use them at this Day.3. Weeping. Weeping is by no means peculiar to Mankind; Beasts have likewise their Share in it: Some of them shed Tears; and much the greatest part of them Cry, and Complain, and Bemoan [Page 244]themselves continually, for some time after their coming into the World.4. Weapons. As for Weapons, Nature hath not been wanting in her Provision for Us too; and she hath given us besides, greater Op­portunities of using them; For the Muscles and Motions of our Limbs are more in Number, and of a more useful Variety; and These too we are capable of receiving greater Service from, with­out any Instruction at all, than any other Ani­mal whatsoever: Or if some few are better pro­vided in this respect, we have the Advantage of many others. Nor do we need any Teaching in point of Eating; 5. Eating We and They are equally fit­ted, equally dextrous and ready at it by Nature: Who makes any Question, but a Child wou'd look out sharp for Meat, assoon as he is strong enough to feed himself? And Meat the Earth produces for our purpose; there wants neither Quantity, nor Variety, to supply our Necessities, whether we improve it by Art and Labour, or not: Of which several Nations are a Proof, who live in great Plenty, without contributing any Tillage, or Care, or Industry of their own, toward their Subsistence.6. Sp [...]t [...]. As for Speaking, allow­ing That to be the effect of Art, and not of Na­ture; yet it is certain too, that if it be not Na­tural, it is not necessary neither. But yet This may be reckon'd among those things that are given in common to Men and Bests both: For what other Name but Speaking can we give to that Faculty of expressing themselves, which we see they have upon all occasions; those Significations of Pain, and Grief, and Joy; the Methods of Sum­moning one another together, and asking mutual Succours; their Arts of Courtship and Flattery, and making Love? And as We sometimes speak by some particular Gestures, the Motions of our Eyes, or Head, or Hands, or Shoulders; (Arts [Page 245]in which Dumb People are exquisitely perfect, and practise even to Astonishment) so do Beasts likewise converse with one another; And even Those of them that have no Voice at all, main­tain an intercourse of Good Offices, and ask and return them, as occasion serves. As Beasts under­stand Us in some degree, so do We in part un­derstand Them: They flatter and sooth us; they threaten and give us warning; they call, intreat, and express their want of our Help: We speak to Them, and They to Us after Their manner; and if we understand but imperfectly, whose fault is it? Theirs or Ours? This is what none of us can certainly tell, and somewhat may be said for either Side. They, for ought we know, may think as meanly of Us upon this Account, as We commonly do of them.^* But in This howe­ver they are a Reproach to us, that in the pre­sent Condition of Humane Nature, we do not understand one another. Our almost next Neigh­bours, remoter Provinces in the very same Coun­try, have Dialects so different, that they do not comprehend each other at all; Whereas They are all perfectly well acquainted with the Idioms, [Page 246]not only of their own Kind all the World over; but (which is a great deal more) with those of Kinds different from their own. The Horse knows how to distinguish the Barkings of a Dog; That One sort of Tone imports Mischief, and Dan­ger, and a malicious Design; and that Another is innocent, and safe, and intends him no hurt at all.7. Mutual Correspon­dence. Nay, I add, that they do not only maintain a Correspondence among Themselves, but with Us also. In Wars and Engagements, Elephants, Dogs, Horses, understand, as well as We: They conform all their Motions to the Word of Com­mand; They Run, or they Stand still; they March, or they Halt; they Pursue, or they Flee; they Charge, or they Retreat, as we wou'd have them; They receive Pay and Subsistence; they have a part in the Victory, and a Share in the Rooty; as we see particularly they had in the late Conquests of the Indies. And thus much may suffice to be observ'd concerning those things which Nature hath distributed both to Men and Beasts in common; and that with so even a Hand, that there is no Great Disparity on either side.

4 The Particulars, wherein these two differ, and have the Advantage of one another, [...] come next under our Observation. Now Some there are, in which Man does manifestly excel, and no Animals whatsoever can pretend to equal, or to be like them; and Others again there are, in which Beasts have the upper hand of Us. The Divine Wisdom so ordering the Matter, that the several Parts of the Creation should be so nicely interwoven, so closely connected, that Each should have some Pre-eminence peculiar to it self; and from All to­gether, shou'd result the perfect Harmony, and uninterrupted Order, of One most compact and beautiful Whole. [...] The plain and indisputable Privileges of Man, are the noble Faculties of his [Page 247]Soul; The Penetration, Sprightliness, and Com­prehension of his Mind, exerted in the Fruitfulness of his Invention; the Subtilty and Solidity of his Judgment; the Deliberate Determination of his Choice; Speech to communicate his Thoughts free­ly, to make known his Wants, to ask and to offer Assistance; The Hand, a ready Instrument to exe­cute whatever his own Invention shall suggest, or the Instructions of others shall dictate, or their Per­formances prescribe for his Imitation; The Maje­stick Form of his Body; the great Variety of Movements he is qualify'd for; from whence it comes to pass, that his Body, and the several Parts of it, are much more serviceable to Him, than those of any Creatures else can be to Them.

5 But still Beasts have Their Advantages too, as evident and unquestionable as Ours;Advanta­ges of Beasts. General. and of Those some are General, and others Particular: The Ge­neral are these; Health, which in Them is much more confirm'd, and less interrupted, than it ever is in Men; their Constitutions more robust; their Natural Defects and Imperfections very rarely to be observ'd. Whereas Men are weak and tender, easily diseased; Blind, and Lame, and Deaf often­times from the Birth. The Open Air never does Them injury; They are subject to no Rheums, or dangerous Colds, with which most of our a­cutest Distempers begin, and many of them have no other Cause: Moderation in their Desires and Actions, which are bounded by Convenience, Innocence, and Security; perfect Ease and Tran­quillity; for this must needs attend a Life void of all Fear and Guilt; Full Liberty and Confidence in Matters that are Natural and Lawful, without any Restraints of Shame, or Fear of Discovery; A total Exemption from infinite Vices and Ex­orbitances; no Superstition to enslave them; no [Page 248]Ambition, or Avarice, or Envy, to disturb, to torment them; no uneasie Fancies, and affright­ing Dreams to afflict and confound them: These are the Portion of all Animals in common.

Of Those that are Particular to some sorts only,Particular. we may reckon the pure, I clear, wholsome, lofty, delightful Dwelling, which the Birds enjoy, by having the Regions of the Air assign'd them. II The wonderful Perfection they attain to in some Arts: For what Art or Labour, even of the most celebrated and accomplish'd Masters, cou'd ever pretend to compare with the Swallows, and some other Birds, in Building; or with the Spider in Spinning and Weaving; or with the Nightingale in Musick; III or with some other Creatures in Knowledge of Plants and Physick? Some asto­nishing Effects, and peculiar Properties, that are inimitable, unaccountable, nay incredible: Such as That of the Fish call'd Remora, because, tho' small it self in Comparison, yet it stops the largest Ships in their Course: Instances of which Hi­story gives us, in the Vessel that rode Admiral of Mark Anthony's and Caligula's Fleet: That of the Cramp-Fish, which benumbs People's Limbs at some distance, and tho' they never touch him: That of the Hedg-Hog, which hath a Fore-knowledge of the Winds: And That of the Cameleon and Po­lypus, in changing Colours, and taking a fresh Tincture, according to the Things they rest upon. IV Their strange Prognostications; of Birds, for In­stance, in their leaving one Country, and going into another, according as the Weather, and Sea­sons of the Year change: That of all Beasts that are Dams, in knowing which of all their Young will prove the best; for when they are driven to Straits, and put upon preserving them from Dan­ger, they constantly save the Best first. In all these Respects Man is much inferiour to Beasts; [Page 249]and in some he is so far from being Equal, or near, that he is in no Degree like them. To all which might be added, That other Advantage, which consists in the Length of their Lives; The Term of some Animals, in the ordinary Course of Nature, extending to a Number of Years, Seven or Bight Times as much as that of Man.

The Advantages, 6 which Man lays claim to a­bove Brutes, but which will admit of some Di­spute,Advanta­ges that may be di­sputed. and perhaps, upon a stricter Examination, would tempt an Impartial Judge, to give it on the other side, are several. First, I The Reasonable and Intellectual Faculties of his Mind; the Power of com­paring,Reasoning. Qu. Whe­ther Brutes partake of it. considering, arguing, collecting; Learning, and Improvement; Judgment and Conduct. Now Two Objections may be offered in Bar to this Claim; the One Relating to the Thing it self; the Other to the real Worth, and Benefits of it. First, It is not out of all Dispute, whether the Matter of Fact, set forth in this Claim, be True; that is, whether Men have these Excellencies pe­culiar to themselves. It hath ever been, and ever will be, a Point in Controversy, whether Brutes have none of these Spiritual Powers; and that Opi­nion, which holds the Affirmative, and maintains they have, is supported with greatest Authorities, and seems to carry a greater Appearance of Truth. The most Celebrated and Learned Philosophers have declared for it; No less than Aristotle, and Galen, and Porphyry, and Plutarch, Democritus and Anaxagoras. The Reason, upon which they ground that Asserti­on, is this; That, the Brain is the Particular Organ, the part of the Body, employed by the Soul, in the Acts of Ratiocination; and that The Composition of the Brain, is exactly the same in Brutes, as it is in Men; and from hence they conclude, that the Instrument of Reason, is as apt and capable in one of these Creatures, as it is in the other. The Dif­ficulty [Page 250]then will be, whether the Souls be equal­ly Capable, of using this Instrument to such Pur­poses; and for This, they offer Experience; That Brutes conclude Universals from Singulars; as, from the Sight and Form of One Man, to know the same Humane Form in All Men; That they are able to compound, and to divide Idea's, by assent­ing and refusing; and that they exercise a Power of Choice, and make very Subtile Distincti­ons between Good and Evil, in such Cases as con­cern the Life, the Liberty, and Preservation of Themselves, and their Young. Nay, they pretend, that any Man, who observes with Attention, may read and discover several Strokes and Foot-steps of Reason, more Bold, more Judicious, more Nice, more Ingenious and Cunning, than the common Sort of Men are used to give us Proof of. Some of the most memorable Actions, from whence this Conclusion hath been made, I will briefly recite. The Fox designing to pass over a River, when it is frozen, lays his Ear close to the Ice, to hearken if there be any Noise, and whether the Water run underneath; that from thence he may form a Judg­ment, whether it be Safe to proceed, or Necessa­ry to retire. And this Expedient the Thracians are said to make use of, when they have any Fro­zen Rivers to pass. The Hound, in Doubt which Way his Master, or the Game he is in chase of, went, at a Place where Three Paths meet, takes this Course of making out his Loss; He scents the several Paths, one after another, and when he finds that in Two of these Ways, no Scent hath lain; he never troubles himself to lay his Nose to the Third; but springs forward, and takes That with­out farther Enquiry. Thales the Philosopher's Mule, when heavy loaden with a Sack of Salt, and being to go over a Brook, stoop'd down to dissolve his Salt, and so make his Burthen lighter; because [Page 251]he had found once before, that the Salt was lighter, when it fell into the Water by chance: But when loaden with Wooll, he did the direct contrary, and strove to keep it dry; because the like Experiment had taught him, that Wooll grows heavier by being wetted. Plutarch says, That once on board a Ship, he saw a Dog casting Stones into a Great Jar, that so he might make the Oyl in it rise higher; which before was too low, and out of his reach: And the like is reported of the Crows in Barbary, when the Water is too low for them, to drink at. Thus Elephants, when one of them is set fast in a Bog, are said to bring great Stones, and pieces of Timber, to help their Fellows out. The Oxen in the King's Gardens at Suza, which have been long practised to turn a Wheel a Hun­dred Times Round, (the Depth of the Well re­quiring just so much, from whence Water is drawn, for the Use of the Gardens) cannot be made to exceed that Number of Rounds; and when left to themselves, never come One turn Short. Now what Way are all these things possible to be done, without Reasoning and Discourse; Composition and Division, which are the Operations proper to a Rational Soul? Must not a Man be thought to want Reason himself, who thinks it hath nothing to do in such Actions? So again. The Marvellous dexterity of drawing Darts and Spears out of wounded Bodies, with very little Pain to the Pa­tient, for which Elephants are Famous. The Dog mentioned by Plutarch, that at a Publick Entertain­ment, lay upon a Scaffold, and countefeited him­self dead; fainting away by degrees, breathing short, trembling, stretching himself out, and let­ting them drag him about as quite dead; then by Degrees coming to himself again, lifting up his Head, as if he had just been brought to Life; and in a Word, the many Strange, Apish Tricks [Page 252]that Jugglers and Strowlers teach their Dogs, and Dancing-Horses. The many Doubles, and cunning Contrivances, that Beasts of several kinds have, to secure themselves from the Attempts we make upon them; The great Forecast, and wise Management of the Ants, in drawing out their Grains of Corn to sweeten in the Air, and dry by the Sun, which would otherwise corrupt, and grow Musty: The nibbling off the End of every Grain, which would else be grown, and run to Seed: The Order of the Bees, in their Republick; the Method of their Combs; the vast variety of Offices and Duties ap­propriated to such and such respectively; and the constant Regularity and Uniformity of all their Proceedings, will not suffer us to think, that these are no more than animated Clock-Work; but seem in many Things to equal, and in some even to reproach the Conduct of Mankind.

7 In Order to overthrow all This, some have been very Ill-natur'd to these Brutes,Natural Instinct, rejected. and take Sanctua­ry in Natural Instinct, as a sufficient Solution, and Cause of all these wondrous Effects; And This they describe by an Inclination in Nature, which is under as perpetual Necessity, Slavery, and Constraint; as That by which the Stone falls, or the Flame ascends. Now First, This is so far from Truth, that one would wonder, how it could ever enter into any Man's Head: For the fore­mentioned Acts, plainly infer reckoning and sum­ming up Particulars, comparing of Things toge­ther, and reasoning by Composition and Division of Ideas, and by Consequences drawn from thence. But these are such Operations as can never be per­formed by such a Natural Inclination, and Ne­cessary Instinct, which are only the Refuge of Men, who want something to say. But then it must be observ'd withal, that this Objection re­turns back again, upon them that make it. For [Page 253]it is, without doubt, more Noble, more for the Honour of any Creature, and a nearer Resemblance to God himself,See the Ad­vertise­ment. to do Well by a Happy and Unal­terable Determination of one's Nature; than to do so by Art and Industry, long Time, and much Learning; To be led by the Unerring Hand of God, than left to our own imprudent Conduct; and to act Regularly, by an Habitual, and Con­stant, and Necessary Impulse; than by such a Choice and Liberty, as is Subject to Hazard and Rashness. Besides, by this Notion of Natural In­stinct, they take away from Brutes all manner of Instruction, and Improvement, as well that which they receive from others, as that which they impart to others; but This is abundantly contradi­cted and confuted by Experience. For it is plain, They learn what they knew not before, and grow more Perfect by Degrees, and Imitation, and Cu­stom; as Magpyes, for Instance, Parrots, Jack-Daws, and Dogs; and it is as plain, that they teach one a­nother too, from the Examples of Nightingales and especially of Elephants, who of all Animals are the aptest to learn, and seem to exceed the rest by far, both in Largeness of Capacity, and Quick­ness of Apprehension.

8 As for that Power of the Reasoning Soul, which Man Values himself so very Highly upon; That of considering Corporeal Things abstractedly, representing what is absent to himself, and devest­ing things of what Circumstances he thinks fit, to conceive them after his own Pleasure; (for ac­cording to the Jargon of the Schools,^* the Ob­ject understood, is in the Subject understanding, according to the manner in which the Understander represents it to himself,) there is some Appearance, that Beasts do [Page 254]all this too. A Horse, that has been us'd to Charge, when he lies asleep, in his Litter, shall shiver, and snort, as if he were in an Action; and plainly forms to himself, the Sounds of Drums and Trum­pets, and the Images of an Army, and a Battle. The Grey-Hound, in his Dream, pants and blows, sets up his Stern, shakes his Legs, and conceives a Spiritual Hare before him. Mastiffs, and House-Dogs, growl in their Sleep, and sometimes open, and bark out-right, imagining that some Stranger is coming in. The fairest Conclusion of this first Point seems to me then, to be thus; That the Brutes have Reason; That They compare, discourse, and judge, but in a much lower Degree, and no­thing comparable, to that Perfection, in which Man does. They have a much less Share, but they are not Totally excluded. We excell Them vastly, and so we do one another; and, indeed, the several Kinds of Beasts, excel each other too. Nay, I know not, whether it may not be said, That the difference among Men, is Greatest; and that some Men, excell some other Men in Reason­ing, more than some Men excel Beasts.

Aristotle, 'tis true, pronounces of some Men, that they are so extremely Ignorant and Stupid, that they differ in nothing, but Shape, from Brutes. But all this notwithstanding, to argue, that they have equal Share, and stand upon the Level with Man­kind; that their Souls are equally Immortal with Ours, or Ours equally Mortal with theirs, are ve­ry Malicious and unfair Inferences. For, besides that Man excells most Conspicuously, in the Ope­rations of Reason, there are several other more No­ble Faculties and Prerogatives, such as are entirely Spiritual, which justify the Character, of his being the Likeness and Image of God; and render him ca­pable of Immortal Bliss; all which the Brutes par­take not of, in any the least Degree. And these are [Page 255]all implyed in the Notion of Intellect, which de­notes something more Sublime, than mere Ratio­cination.

9 The Other Argument, upon this Occasion, con­cerns the Worth and Benefit of this Pre-eminence. For, Allowing the Matter of Fact alledged, to be True, that Man hath Reason, and Brutes have it not, yet, What does he get by it? Are not the Noblest Faculties paid very Dear for, and do they not do him more Hurt than Good? Are not These the principal Cause and Source of the Miseries that load him? The Vices, the Passions, the In­ward Distempers, All that Irresolution, and Trou­ble, and Despair, which embitter and cast a Ble­mish upon our Lives? And these the Beasts have none of, because they have none of those Pow­ers, which are the Seat and the Source of them. Witness the Story of Pyrrho's Hog, that eat con­tentedly on Shipboard, in a Storm, at a time when the Passengers and Seamen, were almost dead with Fear. ‘I confess, as we manage the Matter, the generality of People have but a very indifferent Bargain of This. And some who consider Things Superficially, and look at what the World is, not what it might be,’ are tempted to think that these more exalted and larger Endowments of the Soul, have been wholly deny'd, or at least much diminished, and impaired to Beasts, for their mighty Ease and Benefit; and given to Man in their full Strength, for his mighty torment: Since it is by the Interposition and Assistance of these, that he teazes and perplexes himself; resents and sadly keeps alive the Past; is distracted with Anxi­ety and Amazement for the Future; nay, forms to his own Mind, and then is scared out of his Wits with, the gastly Images of Evils, that are not yet, nor are ever like to be. Now in other Ani­mals, the Sense and the Apprehension of Evil have [Page 256]both the same Date; Till it comes, they know no­thing of it; and when it hath done, they have done with it; and from the Moment of its Cessa­tion, are in perfect Ease, and Tranquillity. And thus you see, how Man is rendred (rather indeed, how by his Mismanagement, he renders Himself) the worse for his Advantages; that the Happiness and Privilege of his Nature, is become the Instru­ment and Occasion of all his Misery. And were it not better to have been born naked, than to be provided with^* Weapons, and to sheath them thus, 10 in our own Bowels?

Another Advantage over Brutes,Dominion and Com­mand. which Man makes Pretensions to, is that of Dominion, and Power to Command them, which he imagines to be vested in him. But, (not to take notice at present, that This is but an improper Plea, since Men also mutually Command, and are Comman­ded by one another) the Thing in Fact is not true: For where does our Practice and Experience shew this universal Command in Man, and as universal Subjection and Obedience in other Crea­tures? [Page 257]'Tis plain in the present State of Things, that this is a mere Fancy; and that Men are much more in fear of Beasts, than stood in fear of by them. It is not to be doubted, but this was once the Case; and an ample Commission That was, which the Great Lord of the Universe issued at the Creation,Gen 1.26. Let him have Dominion over the Fowls of the Air, and over the Fish of the Sea, and over the Cattel, and over all the Earth. And admirably sitted he is to execute this Commission, by reason of the Majesty of his Person, an erect and beautiful Form, and the Greatness and Wisdom of his Mind. But alas! the Face of Affairs is changed; the actual Exercise of this Prerogative lost. And all that remains, is only what these Advantages of his Body and Mind give him; and it may much more properly be said, That Man is made sit to Command, and Brutes to Obey, than that He does actually Command, and They Obey.

11 Another Advantage bordering upon the former, is perfect Liberty. This Man pretends to,Liberty and Servi­tude. and up­braids Brutes with Captivity, Slavery, and Drudge­ry; but This I think is full as unreasonable and foreign as the other. Men themselves lie infi­nitely more open to Reproaches of that kind: To This let the Inhabitants of Guinea speak; else what mean the Slaves that are made by Kidnapping and Force, and not only their Persons enslavd, but all their Posterity too? Nay, what mean those Wil­ling Slaves, who sell their Liberty for Summs of Money, or who part with it gladly and freely, or that Truck it away for some Conveniency? For was not all this done by the Ancient Gladi­ators? And is it not now done daily, by Women to their Ladies, and Soldiers to their Commanders? But Beasts know nothing like this; they serve not one another; they neither enslave, nor are ensla­ved by one another; but are in all respects [Page 258]more free, and at their own disposal, than Men are.

Man, it is confess'd, makes these his Diversion and his Entertainment; they furnish his Sports and his Table: But if He Hunt, and take, and kill, and eat Them; They do the same by Him, as Op­portunities offer: And That, in a manner more brave and great than His; not by Toils, and Nets, and Cunning; but by honest downright Force. Nay, He is not murder'd and devour'd thus by Beasts only, but (which is infinitely more) by another Man, his Equal, his Companion, his Bro­ther. No Beasts ever assemble themselves in Troops, to destroy, and ravage, and lead Captive another Troop of the same Kind; but Men, to their E­ternal Reproach, not only do the thing, but glo­ry in it, and triumph in the destruction of their own Species.

4 The Fourth and great Advantage Men pretend to above Brutes, [...] consists in their Virtue; but if by this, Moral Virtue be meant, and if we may be allowed to judge of Virtue by the commen­dable Actions, and outward Appearances of it; (This Claim will admit of some Dispute too: Tho' Moral Virtue taken formally, and with re­gard to the Will, Beasts cannot have:) For Grati­tude, and Friendship, and Readiness to be Service­able, Fidelity, Magnanimity, and several other good Qualities useful in Society and Conversation, have been observed to express themselves after a more lively, more surprizing manner, and with more Constancy, in Brutes, than is usually seen in the generality of Mankind. Lysimachus had a Dog call'd Hireanus, which lay perpetually upon the Bed with his dead Master, and wou'd not be got from thence to eat or drink, but continu'd thus watching and fasting, till the Corpse came to be burnt, and then leaped eagerly into the [Page 259]Fire, and burnt himself with it. The same is re­lated of another Dog, that beionged to one Pyr­rhus. That of the wise Hesiod detected the Russi­ans that murder'd his Master: And another did the like before King Pyrrhus, and his whole Ar­my. Plutarch tells us of another, that hunted a­bout from City to City, and never relied [...] he had brought the Robber of the Temple at A [...]ens, to Justice for his Sacrilege.See Gell. Li [...]. [...]. Cap. 14. The Story of A [...]ro­dus is very well known, who had lived and eat with a Lyon for some Years, after curing him of a painful Wound; and afterwards, when con­demn'd at Rome to the Wild Beasts, this Lyon wou'd not touch the Slave that had been his Guest, and his Surgeon, but approach'd him with all the Demonstrations of Thankfulness and Love; all which, Appian declares himself to have been an Eye-Witness of at Rome. An Elephant, that in heat of Passion had kill'd his Keeper. would neither eat nor drink, but pined himself to Death, by way of Penance. But now on the other hand, Is there in the World any Creature that can compare with Man, for Injustice and Ingratitude, Churlishness and Ill-Nature, Treache­ry and Baseness, Lying and Dissimulation? Be­sides, allowing Virtue to consist in moderating the Appetite, and curbing one's Pleasures, Beasts are then a great deal more regular than We, and keep themselves more duly within the Bounds of Nature and Convenience. As for those De­sires that are superfluous, extravagant, and un­natural, they never have any Inclination of that Kind: And consequently are exempted from one great and common Species of Humane Vice, which is, The enlarging our Desires beyond Measure, and multiplying, nay inventing fresh Objects to our selves; and employing Artifice, and Industry to heighten and create new Inclinations. In those which [Page 260]Nature prompts them to, as Eating, and Drink­ing, and other Bodily Satisfactions, they out-do us much, in Temperance and Reservedness. But if we would in good earnest be satisfy'd, whe­ther Man or Brutes be the more Vicious or Vir­tuous; that is indeed, if we would put Man out of Countenance effectually, and silence all the Pretensions to this Excellency quite; Let us put the Issue upon that single Virtue, which is therefore call'd Humanity, because lookt upon to be the most proper and inseparable Quality of our Nature; as on the Contrary, That of Cruelty is esteem'd the most foreign, most disagreea­ble, and that which we abandon, as sit for wild Beasts only, by giving it the Denomination of Ferity. But alas! in this very Instance they re­proach, and put us to the Blush; particularly up­on the following Accounts. I They never, or but seldom fall foul, or do any great Mischief upon those of their own Kind. It is a lamentable and scandalous Observation, but hath too much of Truth in it, That Dens and Desarts are more peaceful Habitations, than Towns and Cities; and even^* Dragons and Beasts of Prey, agree better together than Men do. II But These, when they do fall out, quarrel upon just, and weighty, and necessa­ry Occasions; Provocations that touch them near­ly, and to defend that, which needs and deserves their utmost Endeavours to defend it; Their Life, Their Liberty, III their Young. Again; They en­gage and assault each other with such Arms only as Nature hath provided for them; they come to fair and open Combat, use no Methods of Ho­stility, IV but plain Strength and Courage; encoun­ter single, One against One: No general Rendez­vous [Page 261]of vast Herds and Troops on each side: V Nor do they act with Stratagem and Design. VI Their Engagements are also very short, VII and pre­sently decided; for as soon as one of them is wounded, or gives out, the Fray is over; and, which is yet more considerable, assoon as the A­ction is ended, the whole Quarrel, the Hatred, and all the Resentment is at an end too. But Man is the very Reverse of all This; I He is so far from not quarrelling with his own Kind, that he quarrels with none besides. II The Grounds of these Quarrels are frequently trifling and fri­volous, and of no Consideration; nay, which is worse, they are sometimes unjust, they proceed from Falshood and Misrepresentation; and if the Matter be examin'd to the bottom, the Quarrels have no real Ground at all. The Arms he uses, III are the Work of Industry; such as are treache­rous, and kill without warning, and contriv'd to be as much so, as is possible. The Method of ma­king War is by Deceit and Cunning, IV which we colour over with the specious Name of Conduct; and this is seen in Stratagem and Surprize, Feints and Ambuscades. V This again is transacted by vast Numbers of Men met together by solemn En­gagement, and particular Appointments, to Stand and Fall by one another. VI These Wars are vastly long too; none lay down their Arms upon the first Dis­advantage; but still either Side pushes on its For­tune; the One to recover their Losses, the Other to pursue and perfect their Conquests; and the usual End put to these Controversies, is by the Death of the Principals. Lastly, In these Quar­rels, when Men want the Power, VII they still re­tain the Will to do Mischief; and tho' Acts of Hostility may cease, yet the Hatred and Resent­ment seldom or never cease.

12 The Sum then of this Comparison, as you have found it here stated,The Cen­clusion of this Second Considera­tion. amounts to thus much; That Man hath no such mighty reason to magnifie Himself in the Advantages of his Nature, above That of Brutes: For, allowing Him some Endow­ments and Accomplishments, which They have not; as the Sprightliness and Force of his Mind, and Intellectual Faculties, and all the other nobler Pow­ers of the Soul; yet the Incumbrances upon these is very great and grievous; the Evils he is in­volv'd in upon their account, infinite and insup­portable: The Inconstancy and Irresolution, Su­perstition and Sollicitude, sad Remembrances of the Past, and Anxious Concern for the Future; Ambition, and Avarice, and Envy, restless Cu­riosity, busie Detraction, Lying and Deceit, a world of unruly Appetites and Passions, Troubles and Discontents. Thus this Mind, with the Thoughts and value whereof Man is so much exalted, is the Occasion of infinite Misfortunes; and of most of all then, when it exerts it self most: For in all vehement Agitations, it does not only hurt and disturb the Body, and render its Forces and Functions disordered, and broken, and quite tired down; but it hinders and confounds its own self: For what is it that throws Men into Folly and Madness, so much as the Acuteness, and Activity, and Strength of the Mind it self? The subtilest Follies, and most exquisite Phrensies proceed from the quickest, and sinest, and most vigorous Agitations of the Mind; as we may ob­serve, that the bitterest Aversions, and most irre­concileable Immities grow from the tenderest Pas­sions, and most intimate Friendships; and the most virulent and mortal Diseses, from a strong Com­plexion, and healthful Body. Melancholy Per­sons are observ'd by Plato, to be best disposed for Learning and Wisdom; but they are equally dispo­sed [Page 263]for Folly too; much more than Persons of a different Temper. And to a Man of nice and just Observation, it will appear, that when the Soul acts freely, and gives her self a Loose, there is none of her Altitudes and Sallies without a Mix­ture of Folly; and in good truth, these things dwell very close together;

Once more; If we regard the living in agree­ment with Nature, and in conformity with what she dictates and requires from us, Beasts seem to excel us in this respect, very much; for they lead a Life of more Freedom, more Ease and Security, more Moderation and Contentedness, than Men do. And That Man is deservedly reputed Wise, who makes them his Pattern, and his Lesson, and reaps Profit by their Example; by reforming and reducing himself to that Innocence, Simplicity, Liberty, Meekness, and Gentleness of Temper, which Nature had originally implante both in Us and Them: And, which in Brutes is still very conspicuous, but in Us is decay'd, chang'd, and utterly corrupted by our Industrious Wicked­ness, and Artisicial Depravations; thus debauching and abusing the particular Prerogative we pretend to, and rendring our selves more vile than the Beasts, by means of that very Understanding and Judgment, which sets us so far above them. Hence sure it is, that God intending to shame us into Vertue, sends us to School in Scripture, and bids us grow wiser by the Example of these Creatures. The Crane, the Stork, and the Swallow; the Ser­pent, Jer. viii. 7. Mat. x. 16. Prov vi. 6. Isa. i. 3. and the Dove, the Ant, and the Ox, and the Ass, and sundry others, are recommended as Teachers to us. And after all, To take down [Page 264]our Vanity upon this Occasion, we ought to re­member, that there is some sort of Correspon­dence, some mutual Relations and Duties arising from thence; if upon no other account, yet by reason of their being made by the same Hand, belonging to the same Master, and making a part of the same Family, with our selves. And this single Reflection ought to prevail with us, to use our Ad­vantages over them modestly, tenderly. and con­scientiously; and not to treat them with Cruelty and Contempt. For as Justice is a Debt from us to all Men; so Kindness, and Beneficence, and Mercy must needs be due to all Creatures whatsoever, that are in any Condition of receiving benefit by us.

CHAP. XXXV. The Third Respect, under which we proposed to consider Man, is by taking a short View, and summary Account of his Life.
The True Value, the Continuance, and Descri­ption of Humane Life, and the several Parts, or Stages of it.

1 ONE very Considerable; One, indeed, of the Principal,Of the Worth, or just Esti­mate of Life. and most Necessary Points of Wis­dom, is rightly to understand the True Value of Life; and to make so just an Estimate of it, as to keep, or to lose it; to cherish and preserve, or to neglect and lay it down; and so to manage our selves in the whole Conduct of it, as Duty and Decency require. There is not any One Case, in which Men are more apt to be wanting, nor where their Failings are of more Dangerous Consequence, for the involving them in new and infinite Dif­ficulties. The Mean, and the Ignorant, the Worldling, and the Man of Pleasure; and, in ge­neral, all that do not, or cannot consider, prize Life extravagantly: They look upon it, as the Su­preme Good, and prefer it so much before all o­ther Things, as not to admit a Comparison be­tween them. If Life were to be sold at a Price; nay, if a short Reprieve only, and Lengthening out their Term a little, can be had, they can think no­thing too Dear, no Conditions too hard, to be submit­ted to; but are satisfied the purchase ought to be made at any Rate. For This, they tell you, is their Happiness, and when That is gone, All is gone; [Page 275]their very Motto is, Nothing more precious than Life. (Vitâ nihil charius) They value and love it, not only as the Scene of Action and Enjoyment, and upon the account of the Conveniences and Op­portunities it affords, but upon its own supposed intrinsick worth; and live merely for the sake of Living. And how can we think it strange, that such Persons should be so very defective in the rest of their Duty, so mis-led with Errours, and extravagant Notions, when they make the very first Step wrong, and set out in so gross a Mistake, concerning this great Fundamental Article of Wis­dom and Virtue?

There is also a Contempt of Life, that declines as much to Vice in the other Extreme, and re­presents it as a Burden, or a Trifle; Worth No­thing, or Worse than Nothing: But this Under­valuing is the effect of Weakness and Ignorance, of Pride and Ingratitude. For we know very well, that when it falls into Wise and Good Hands, it is capable of becoming an Instrument of great and general use, both to our selves, and to others. Now I can by no means be of Their Opinion, taken literally and plainly, who give it out for their Princple, That^* the greatest Happiness is, Not to live at all; and the next most desirable thing is to live but a very little while. Nor is that Argument they use in vindication of this Opinion, at all suf­ficient or Satisfactory: What Hurt (say they) could there be in Non-Existence? and what Mat­ter had it been, if I were never created? To This one may reply with Reason enough, What do you make of all the Happiness you have enjoy'd? What would become of This, if you had had no Being? And would it not have been some Matter, some [Page 276]Hurt never to have enjoy'd it? For certainly, tho' the loss of the Good which we have, and know the worth of, be a more sensible Evil; yet the mere privation of Good, and never having it at all, is One sort of Evil too; even tho' that Good be such as we shou'd never have missed, nor such as was necessary to us. These Extremes are too wide; they overstrain the Point on both sides, and degenerate into Vice; tho' they are not equally vicious and erroneous neither.

I confess, speaking in the Quality of a Philo­sopher, and with regard to the present State of Assairs only; I do not think That Wise Ancient much out of the way, who acknowledged^† Life to be Good; but such a Good, as no Man would accept of, if it were left to his own free Choice, and he were fairly inform'd beforehand, what Incumbrances lay upon it. It is not at all amiss, that we are engaged in it, before we know what it is: We come into the World blindfold; but That is no reason why Men shou'd afterwards put out their own Eyes, or hoodwink themselves. For the Mischief is, that, when we are got hither, we run into different Ways: Some cheat themselves into so extravagant a Fond­ness for Life, that they wou'd not part with it again at any rate. Others fret themselves into so ill an Opinion of it, that they grumble eternally, are discontented at every thing, and pretend to be weary, and sick of Living. But Wise Men have juster Notions of the Matter; They consider that this was a Bargain made without their Knowledge or Consent; (for no Man lives, or dies, assoon, or as late, or in such Manner and Circumstances, as he pleases himself) But still it is a Bargain we are bound to stand to; and if it be a hard one, [Page 277]we must try to make the best of it. Sometimes we shall meet with Rough Ways; but the whole Passage is not so: And therefore Philosophers a­gree, that the best Course is to create no Distur­bance, nor struggle and flounder unprofitably, but for Men to suit their Tempers, and comply with their Circumstances as well as they can; to carry it off with Evenness and Moderation, and make a Virtue of Necessity; for That is the Character of Wis­dom and Good Management: And when they have fixed themselves in this Method, then to live as long as is Fit for them, consistent with their Duty, and Decency: Not as long as is Possible for them, which is the Principle of foolish and profligate People. For there is a Season proper for Dying, as well as one for Living; and a Virtu­ous Honourable Death is a Thousand time; rather to be chosen, than a Wicked and Infamous Life. Now a Wise and Good Man makes it his Busi­ness to live just so long as Life is better than Death, and no longer: For, as we observed be­fore, that They are in the Wrong, who esteem the shortest Life best; so is that common Opini­on a Mistake too, which raises the Value by Com­putation of Years, and accounts that Life best which lasts longest.

2 The Shortness of that Term allow'd us in this World, is a great and a general Complaint:Of the [...] of Life. We meet it in every Mouth; not from the Ignorant and Vulgar only, where we cannot expect bet­ter, than that They should be willing to live al­ways; but (which may be allow'd a little to surprize us) even Great Souls, and Wise Men, reckon it among their very greatest Unhappines­ses. Now to say the very Truth, as Men usual­ly manage the Matter, and indeed as Nature hath in some measure contriv'd it, Life is very short; For the greatest part of it is employed and di­verted [Page 278]otherwise; and a very small Proportion left for the true Uses and Ends of Living. The Time of our Infancy and Ignorance, the Decays and Infirmities of Old Age, the necessary Intervals of Sleep, the Diseases of our Bodies and our Minds, and the infinite other void Spaces of it, wherein we are incapable of doing Good, run away with a great deal of our Time: And when the Whole is summ'd up, and these Abatements made, the Remainder is not much. But yet, without trou­bling our selves with the Contrary Opinion, which asserts the Shortness of Life to be greatly for our Advantage, we shall find Reason enough to ac­cuse this Complaint of Injustice; and to think it more the effect of Inconsideration and Ill-Nature, than of good Arguing, and Virtuous Disposition. For what Advantage would a longer Life be to us? Shall we wish for it to no other purpose, but merely to Live in; to take our Ease, to Eat, and Drink, and Sleep, to Look about us, and see more of the World? What need is there of so much Time for this? We have already seen, and known, and tasted what we are capable of, in a very little time; and when we are got to the End of our Curiosity, This is sufficient. What Good will it do us, or wherefore should we wish to act the same things over and over again, and be always beginning afresh? Who would not be cloyed with eating upon the same Dish every Day? If this be not nauseous and troublesome, yet to be sure it is superfluous and unnecessary. This is but One Circle, which is perpetually rolling, and brings the same things uppermost again; sometimes they remove to a lit­tle distance, and then they quickly return back upon us: Tis but a spinning the same Web; and That which may serve a Child to play with, but can never be a sit Entertainment for grown Men. [Page 279]Shall we then wish it for nobler Ends; that we may grow Wiser and Better, and aspire to higher degrees of Virtue and Perfection; that we may do more Good, and be more useful in our Genera­tions? This indeed carries the Appearance of an excellent Disposition; but They that know us, will not be imposed upon by it: For Who shall teach, Who shall improve us? Alas! That Little which is committed to our Trust, is so ill used, that we cannot have the Confidence to ask for more. We neglect what we have already, and suffer the greatest part of it to slip thro' our Fin­gers. We squander it away profusely upon Vanity and Trifles; nay, we abuse and misemploy it up­on Wickedness and Vice. And yet after all this Unfaithfulness and Folly, we cry and complain for more, and think our selves ill dealt with, that we have not enough. Enough for What? For the same insignificant and ill purposes to be sure; for That wou'd be the Consequence of a more liberal Allowance too. But, supposing Men serious in this Matter; and that they wou'd really do as they pretend; yet of what Use wou'd this vast Treasure of Knowledge and Experience prove? For the Soul must change its Dwelling at one time or other; and whenever That dislodges, all our Wisdom goes with it. Since therefore This cannot stay always, why shou'd we take it ill that it stays so little a time? For if it sink into a state of Oblivion, and all must be lost, What mighty difference is there, whether this be done sooner or later? But if it removes into a better Condition, and be (as it really will be) put into a state of clearer Vision, and more per­fect Knowledge, why should we desire to have that Happiness delayed, and kept back from us?

But you will say, perhaps, This Gift of Life is very unequally distributed; for there are some [Page 280]Creatures, that live Three, Four times as long, as the usual Age of Man. I might answer, That the Accounts we have of this kind are many, if not most of them, fabulous. But waving That, and allowing the Objection; yet it must be con­fessed withal, that Some, nay the much greater part of Animals live not near so long; some ne­ver arrive at a Fourth part of our Years, and very few ever come to an equal length with us. Now pray, what Right, what Privilege, what Reason hath Man to challenge a longer Duration here, than the rest of his Fellow-Creatures have a Title to? Where did God ever grant him such a Char­ter, or how will he be able to make good the Claim? Is it reasonable He should be indulg'd more than They, because he puts out his Time to bet­ter Interest, and employs it upon Business more noble and sublime in it self, more worthy and deserving of this Favour, than They are capable of? I greatly fear, This Argument may be thrown back in our Faces, and prove the strongest Plea against us: For sure He ought rather to be cut shorter than the Rest, as a Punishment for his Abuse and Mismanagement. And in This he is singular, and stands alone. The whole Creation cannot furnish a Parallel; not any one Instance of this Blessing so grievously perverted, not such another Monster of Wickedness and Unfaithfulness, of Ingratitude and Baseness, of Intemperance and Debauchery, and all manner of Disorderly Living. This Charge hath been sufficiently proved upon him already, when we stated the Comparison be­twixt Him and the Beasts; and therefore I urge my Point, and ask that Question once more, What Benefit wou'd a longer Life be to him? Nay, I back that with a Second, and add, What an In­convenience would it be to Himself, and how mischievous to the World? It would make his [Page 281]own Account the heavier, his Crimes and Arrears the greater, and it wou'd encourage him to yet more Extravagancies than he is guilty of already: For this very Consideration would put him upon bolder and more desperate Attempts. The short­ness of his Continuance in the World, as Mat­ters now stand, is some Check to his wild Ca­reer, and breaks all his Measures; and the Uncer­tainty of it abates and damps his Fury: But if these Restraints were removed, and Assurances gi­ven of a larger Term, Nothing would be able to stop him; his Projects would be always New, without Number, without End; and he would live as if he were to live for ever. You see how strong these Inclinations are now. He cannot but feel and fear his own Mortality; and yet these Reflections are so over-balanc'd by a corrupt Prin­ciple within, that he cannot forbear holding fast what he hath, and eager Desires and Pursuits of what he hath not, and forming vast and very di­stant Designs, as if he were really Immortal.^* Tis a just Reproof which Seneca gives, Ye live, as if Life were never to have an End. The Frailty of your Nature is never thought of; or if it be, 'tis remem­bred to no purpose; for at the same time that your Fears are infinite, and this proves you Mortal; your Desires are infinite too, as if you lookt upon your selves to be Immortal.

Again; What necessity is there for all those great and goodly Designs, and that mighty Busi­ness, which is pretended to merit a longer Life for Mankind, than any other Animal? Does Nature require more back than is given us? No sure. [Page 282]Men have no just ground of Complaint; but a­bundant Cause for Indignation and Remorse, for treating themselves no better. The Life allow'd us is enough to answer All the Purposes of it; but the Misery is, that we turn Negligent and Prodi­gals, and do not husband it so well as we might and ought to do: It is not short of it self, but we make it so, by wasting it unprositably. We labour under no Wants of this kind, but what our own Prodigality brings upon us; and are scandalously lavish of the Thing we pretend to need most.^* We lose it, we sell it, we throw it away; we vilifie it, and complain that it hangs upon our Hands; we are at some pains to pass it away, as if it were a Matter of no Worth at all; as if our Stomachs were over-loaded, and we sick and cloy'd with too great Abundance. There is not any of us, but is guilty of one or other of these Three Faults; either employing it Ill, or not employing it at All, or employing it Insignifi­cantly, and to no purpose.^† A great part of our Life (says Seneca) is run off in doing what we should not; much the greatest in doing nothing at all; and almost the whole of it in doing things by the by, and such as are not our proper Business. No body takes pains in learning how to Live; but All lay out their Stu­dies and their Time upon any other Subject, rather than This. And yet This, like all other Arts, is not to be attained slightly and easily; a Man cannot be expert in it without long Practice, much Diligence, and very sollicitous Application of the Mind. Some put off all Thought of living well, till they can live no longer. They spend the Vi­gour [Page 283]and Flower of their Years in Toil, and Trou­ble, and Folly; and propose great Enjoyments to themselves hereafter, and wondrous Comforts in their declining Age. How are they sure they shall live to that Age? But if they were, what a wretched Madness is This? Tis directly as if a Man should set his Cask to running, and let out all the best and sprightly Liquor, that he may reserve the Dregs for his own Drinking. Age is the Lee and Sediment of Life; All we can do then, is to try if we can sustain and sweeten it a little; but to defer our Satisfactions till then, is to give them quite away, and lose them for altogether. Nay, many never go thus far, but finish their Day without ever beginning their Work; and go off the Stage without considering why they were brought on, or what Part they were to act.^* Some (says the Philosopher) begin to live when they should make an End; others cease to live before ever they begun: Among the many Mischiefs that Folly brings upon us, This is not the least, That it is always beginning to live. We think of Business, and intend to set a­bout it; but make no Progress at all, nor bring any thing to perfection.

3 The World is a Theatre, and our present Life in it, the Beginning and the End of a Play;Description of it. our Birth draws the Curtain, and our Death shuts it up again: Tis a Comedy of Errours; a con­stant Succession of Accidents and Adventures, a Contexture and Chain of several Miseries linked closely, and interwoven within one another; no­thing but Evil on every side; That which passes off, and that which approaches, and comes into its place; and these drive out, and push forward [Page 284]each other, as the Waves of the Sea do in their Ebbings and Flowings; Trouble and Disquiet are always at hand; but for Happiness, we are cheated with the empty Shadow of it. Blindness and Insensibi­lity take up the Beginning of our Lives; Labour and Anxious Care, the Middle; Weakness and Pain, the Latter End; But Ignorance and Errour reach from the Beginning to the End; These are insepa­rable, and keep us Company quite through.

4 The Life of Man hath its Inconveniences and Miseries of several sorts. Some of them are in Common; extending to all Persons, and all Times; Others are Peculiar and Successive, and distinguish'd by the different Parts, and Age, and particular Sea­sons and Accidents of Life: As Childhood, Youth, Maturity, Man's Estate, and Old Age; for Each of these hath its distinct Calamities; some Embase­ments and Incumbrances, which may be properly call'd its own.

5 When Youth and Old Age come to be weigh'd one against the other, Youth and Age com­par'd. it hath been usual to give the Advantage to the Latter: And most Authors speak of Age with Honour and Respect, as having at­tain'd to greater degrees of Wisdom, more maturi­ty of Judgment, more Moderation and Temper: All which good Qualities are marvellously cry'd up, with a Design to put Youth out of Counte­nance, and to charge upon it the contrary Cha­racters of Vice and Folly, Licentiousness and Ex­travagance. But with the leave of those, who have thus decided the Controversie, I must take Liberty to declare, that this Verdict is in my Opinion very unjust: For, in good truth, the Defects and the Vices of Age are More in Number, Worse in Qua­lity, and less to be resisted or recover'd, than those that are peculiar to Youth. Years deform our Minds as much as our Bodies; bring Wrinkles there as well as in our Faces, and turn our Tem­pers [Page 285]sour and mouldy with long keeping. The Soul keeps pace with the Body; Both are spent, and Both decay, till at last we grow so weak, so perfectly helpless, as in respect of both, to verifie that Proverb, of Old Men being twice Children. Age is a necessary, but a strong Disease; it loads us insensibly with grievous Imperfections, and then contrives to cover the Shame of them with credi­table Names. What is in effect no other than Moroseness of Humour, a peevish dislike of the present Enjoyments, and Disability to do as the Man did heretofore, passes for Wisdom and Gra­vity, Experience, and an Insight into the Vanity of the World. But Wisdom is somewhat much more noble than all this comes to, and far above making use of such mean Instruments. There is a vast difference between growing older and grow­ing wiser; between forsaking all Vice, and the changing one for another; and, as it often happens in this Case, changing for the Worse. Old Age condemns the Pleasures and Gayeties of Youth; but how much of this must be allowed to its not being now able to relish them any longer? It is like Esop's Dog, hates and despises what it cannot enjoy. But This is not to disdain and give over Pleasure; it is rather to be disdain'd and given over by it. Pleasure is always Airy and Entertaining; and these are Persons no longer for its Turn. But why should they cast a Reflection upon That, which is due to themselves? Why shou'd Impo­tence corrupt their Judgment? For this, if impar­tially consulted, would tell Young Men, that there is Vice in their Pleasures; and Old Men, that there is Pleasure in Vice. And if this were right­ly understood, and frankly confest, Youth would be a great deal the better, and Old Age not one whit the worse.

The Vices more peculiar to Youth are, Rashness and Heat; Forwardness, and an unguarded Con­versation; Debauchery, and all manner of Sensual Excess. And these are in some Degree natural to that State; the Effects of Warmth and Vigour, and the Boylings of a Florid Blood: All which, as they need and ought to be corrected, so they have something to say in their own Excuse. But what Apology shall we make for the Ill Qualities that attend Old Age? The lightest and least of which are vain Arrogance and Pride; a trouble­some, and peremptory way of Conversing, and an engrossing all the Talk to themselves; froward and unsociable Humours, Superstition and Whimsie; Love of Riches when past the use of them; sor­did Avarice, and Fear of Death; which generally is not (as some have favourably interpreted the Case) the effect of a cold Blood, and low Spi­rits, and of Courage damp'd by these Natural Cau­ses; but it proceeds from long Custom, and Ac­quaintance, and a foolish Fondness for the World; by which the Old Gentleman hath corrupted his Judgment, and hath a greater Tenderness for it, than young Men, who enjoy more, and know less of it. Besides these, there are Envy, and Ill-Nature, and Injustice; but the most exquisite and ridiculous Folly of all, is, that Affectation of a severe, and grave, and wise Character; and hoping to gain Respect and Deference, by an Austere Look, and Scornful Behaviour; which indeed does but provoke Laughter, and become it self a Jest, while it pretends to extort Observance and Fear: For the Young Fellows combine together against this formal Austerity, which they see put on on­ly for a Disguise; and with a design to amuse and affright them into Reverence, where real Merit, which would engage it, is wanting. In short, The Vices of Old Age are so numerous [Page 287]on the One Hand, and the Infirmities of it on the Other, and Both together conspire to render it so despicable, that the best and most saving Game it can play, is to secure Mens Affections, and to win them by Methods of Kindness, and Affability, and Good-Nature. For Churlishness, and an Imperious Humour, and whatever aims at Fear and Dominion, are not by any means Wea­pons fit for These Persons to manage. The Af­fecting so very much Awe, does by no means be­come them; and if the thing could really be com­passed (which it rarely, or never is) yet they should much rather choose to render themselves Agrea­ble; and think the Love, and Respect, and Ho­nour of young Persons, more to be desired, than the keeping them in Constraint and Fear, and Tyrannizing over all that converse with them.

CHAP. XXXVI. I. Vanity.

1 OF all the Qualities, that belong to Humane Nature, Vanity is the most Essential. The ve­ry Peculiar of Man, and Predominate over the rest. For, whether we regard Moral Evil, or Mis­fortune, or Inconstancy, or Irresolution, or any other ill Property, (of which, God knows, this Soil always bears a plentiful Crop) yet it abounds in nothing so much, as in Worthlessness, and Em­ptiness; Senseless Folly, and Ridiculous Vanity. Upon this Account Democritus, was certainly more in the Right, when he laughed at all Mankind, and treated them with Scorn, and Contempt, than Heraclitus was, who wept and afflicted himself; and so exprest some sort of Esteem for Men, as if he thought them worth his Trouble and Con­cern. And Diogenes took a better Course in re­proaching and disdaining them, than Timon did, who profest to hate Mankind, and fled away from all Conversation. Pindar hath given a live­lier Image of This, than any Author besides, in that bold Stroke, where he hath joyned the Two Vainest Things in the World together, to finish his Idea, calling Man the Dream of a Shadow. This Consideration hath driven some wise Men to so very great a Contempt of Humane Nature, that when a Difficult, Bold and Noble Undertaking was mentioned to them, they would frequently reply; That all the World was not worth a Man's giving himself any Trouble for it, (so said Statilius [Page 292]to Brutus, when they discoursed the Conspiracy a­gainst Caesar) That a wise Man ought not to do any Thing upon any Account, but his own. And that it was by no means sit, that Wise Men and Wisdom should suffer any Disquiet, or be expos'd to any Hazard, for the Sake of Fools and Sots.

2 This Vanity hath great variety of Ways to ex­press it self by. As,Vanity of the Thoughts. First of all, In our Thoughts, and secret Conferences with our Selves, which are ve­ry often, even Worse than Vain, Frivolous, and Ridi­culous. And yet in these trifling Imaginations we spend a great deal of Time, and are not sensible of it. We enter upon them, continue in them, and come out of them again, without ever being conscious of our Motions: Which makes the Vanity double, and argues great Inadvertency, and Disregard of our selves. Here is one walking in his Dining-Room full of Care to manage his Feet so, that each Turn may be compassed with such a Number of Steps, and that such Parts of the Boards only may be trod upon: A Second forms with great seriousness long Harangues to himself, composes a Scene of Action, what he would say, and how he would maintain his Port, if he were a King, or a Pope, or some other Thing, which he is so far from, that he knows it is impossible he ever should be such. And thus he feeds upon Wind, nay, upon somewhat yet less sub­stantial, upon a Thing that never had, nor ever will have, any sort of Existence. Another is taken up in contrivance for the Management of his Person, the Affecting a particular Motion of his Body, an Air of his Face, a Singularity of Address, odd Sen­tences, and uncommon Pronunciations; and This he is insinitely delighted with, as a Thing extreme­ly graceful and engaging, and what other People must needs admire, and be taken with too. Then how prodigiously vain and foolish are we in our [Page 293]Wishes and Desires; from whence spring our ridi­culous Opinions, and our yet more ridiculous Hopes and Expectations? And This again, not only at such times as we surfeit with Leisure, and have no other Business to employ our Thoughts; but it very often interrupts our serious and most important Affairs, and breaks our Thread in the very heat of Action. So Natural is Vanity to us, and so preva­lent over us, that it Spirits us away, and pluck [...] us forcibly from Truth and Solidity, and real Substance; to lose us in Air, and Emptiness, and Nothing.

3 But of all Vanities, the most refined in Folly, is that anxious Care of what shall happen hereafter,Concern for Futuri­ty. when we are gone, and cannot feel it. We stretch our Desires and Affections, beyond our Persons and Subsistence; and are much concerned for things to be done to us, when we shall be in no capacity of receiving them. How importunately do we co­vet Praise, and Applause after Death? and how egregious a Folly is This? What can be vainer? This is not Ambition, as Men may be apt to ima­gine; for That desires a Sensible Honour, such as a Man can enjoy, and reap some Benefit from. So far as our good Name indeed is capable of doing Service to our Children, or Relations, or Friends, that stay behind, I own there is use of it; and am content Men should desire it in proportion to this Convenience. But to propose That, as Our Own Happiness, which can never reach, or in any De­gree affect our selves, is meer Vanity. Such ano­ther Folly is Theirs, who perplex their Lives with Fears of their Wives marrying second Husbands; and passionately desire they would continue single; nay, are content to purchase the Gratification of this Whimsie, at a dear Rate, by leaving in their Wills great part of their Estates to their Widows, upon this Condition. What an insupportable Folly? and, [Page 294]as it sometimes falls out, what horrible Injustice is This? How directly the Reverse of those Heroick Spirits in former Ages, who upon their Death-Beds advis'd their Wives to Marry again, as soon as De­cency and Prudence would permit; and to render Themselves useful by bringing Children to the Pub­lick? Some again, Conjure their Friends to wear such a Ring, or a Lock of Hair, or some other Relick, as a constant Remembrance of them, when they are dead; or leave Directions for some Particu­lar thing to be done about their own Bodies; What can we make of all This? hath it not a very untoward Aspect? Methinks it looks, as if Men could be content to part with Life; but could not even then submit to part with Vanity, at any Rate.

4 Another Vanity is This, That the Generality of Mankind live for Other People only, and not for Themselves. We are not half so much concern'd what we really and truly are in our own Persons and Dispositions, as what the World takes us for, and how we stand in Character and Reputation abroad. And thus we frequently Cheat our selves, and cast away the true Happiness, and Advantages of Life, and do a Thousand inconvenient Things; Tho' at the same time we Torture our selves to be agrea­ble to the Standers-by, and to put on what we know is most in Vogue. And this is plainly so, not only in our Estates [...], and our Bodies; The Table, the Equipage, the Furniture, the Dress, the Figure, all adapted to the present Mode, and what the World expects from Persons in our Circumstan­ces; But, which is a great deal worse, and more deplorable; in the Advantages of the Mind the Observation holds too. For even These are thought of no Use or Worth, unless they draw the Eyes and Approbation of other People. And Virtue it self [Page 295]is neglected and disesteem'd, if it be not publick­ly acknowledged and commended: As if the Testi­monies of ones own Breast were no Satisfaction; As if those Things, which were given for our proper Use and Benefit, had lost all their Effi­cacy, and changed their Nature, when Others do not see, and share in them, as well as our Selves.

5 Nor is our Vanity consin'd to simple Thoughts, and Desires, and calm Discourse;Commoti­ons of the Mind. but it often rises higher, puts both Body and Mind into violent Agi­tations, and Pains. Men often teaze and torment themselves more, for Matters of little or no Con­sequence, than for Those which are of nearest Con­cern, and upon which their All depends. Our Soul is frequently thrown into violent Disorders, by little Whimsies, a meer Fansie, a Dream, a Sha­dow and empty Amusement, without Substance, without Ground; and works it self up to all the Excesses of Anger and Revenge, Joy and Grief, and Confusion; and all This with building Castles in the Air. The Ceremony of taking leave, the Idea of some particular Gesture in a parting Friend, strikes us deeper, and gives us more real Trouble, than all the Reasoning in the World, upon Matters of greatest Moment, is able to do. The Sound of a Name repeated, some certain Words and melan­choly Accents pronounc'd Pathetically; nay, dumb Sighs, and vehement Exclamations, go to our ve­ry Hearts. Tricks which all your formal Haran­guers, Enthusiasts, Buffoons, and Others, whose Trade it is to move the Passions, know, and pra­ctise in great perfection. And this airy Blast some­times surprises the most cautious, and transports the most resolved, unless they set a more than com­mon Guard upon themselves. So strong an Influ­ence hath Vanity, and We so mighty a Tendency to it. Nay, as if it were not Reproach sufficient [Page 296]to be agitated and tossed about with Toys and Trifles, even Falshood and Cheat hath the same Effect, and (which is strange) even when we know it is nothing but Falshood and Cheat. Such Delight do we take, such Industry do we use, to Bubble our selves with our Eyes open, and to feed upon Fable and Nothing.^* How dextrous we are to deceive our selves, We need no other In­stances than Those that cry heartily, and fall into violent Passions upon hearing dismal Stories, and seeing deep Tragedies, at the same time that they know the moving Parts of These to have been in­vented and composed for Entertainment and Di­version, at the Discretion of the Romancer, or the Poet: Nay, some of them meer Fables; so far from Truth now, that they never were true in any Circumstance at all. Shall I mention one Va­nity more? That of a Wretch possessed, fond and dying for Love of an ugly old Hag; One, whose Age and Deformity he knows, and knows that she Hates and Despises him too; and notwithstanding all this, is bewitched with a painted Face, and Colours well laid; the Affectation of a Coquette, or some other Imposture, which he sees and confesses to be an Imposture; and all the while runs mad and owns no other Charm, but what he perfectly sees through the Fallacy of.

6 But to shew you, what Footing Vanity hath got, and how close it sticks to Humane Nature;Visits and Matters of Civility. we will now pass from private Deportment and Dispo­sitions, to publick Conversation; by which This will plainly appear, to be no particular and personal Defect, but the Vice of the whole Species in com­mon. And here, what Vanity, what loss of Time [Page 297]may we observe in the Impertinencies of Visits, Howd'you's, Forms of Address, mutual Entertain­ments; In the Offices of Civility, set Speeches, and Ceremonious Behaviour; in Prossers of Ser­vice, in Promises, and Praises? How many fulsome Strains of Complement, what Infinite Hypocrisy, Falshood and Deceit? How open and barefac'd, so that the Person that utters it, and he to whom it is directed, and every one that stands by, sees and knows, and is satisfied it is False? Thus Con­versation is now become little else, than a Tryal of Skill for Dissimulation; and looks like a com­mon Confederacy, where Men have combin'd to­gether to lye, and bubble, and abuse, and make a Jest of one another. Nay, good Manners require, that at the same time a Man tells you an impudent Lye, you should return him your Thanks, for what you know he intends not a word of; and He again, who is satisfied you believe not a Syllable of what he says, receives those Acknowledgments of yours with a set Face, and an Air of Confidence; and thus you stand cringing, and fawning, and dodging for the last Word; each striving to begin, and fearing to leave off, and shrugging, when both are heartily weary, and would fain be well quit of one another. What Inconveniences are we content to endure for these Formalities? We expose our Selves to the Air, to Heat, to Cold; disturb the Peace of our Lives, and are in perpetual Pain for these courtly Follies; We neglect our Business of Weight and Conse­quence, and attend upon Wind and Smoke. We are vain at the Expence of our Ease, nay, of our Health, of our very Life. And what can prove Mankind more enslav'd to Vanity than This, That Levity and Accident tramples Substance under Foot, and Air carries away solid Body, whither it will? espe­cially, when a Man that behaves himself otherwise, [Page 298]must be look'd upon as a Sot, and a Fool; one that knows nothing of the World, nor what becomes him to do in it: Thus to play this Farce dextrously, is the greatest Mark of Wit; and the most affected Harle­quin in it, is the finest Gentleman; but not to be Vain is contemptible Stupidity, and he that declines playing the Fool, betrays his own want of Sense and good Breeding. Nay, when there is no need of all this Form and Complaisance, Vanity hangs about us still: Witness the freer Discourses of the most familiar Acquaintance, and intimate Friends. How many trifling Impertinences, Falshoods, Banters, (I omit the wicked and mischievous Part, because that falls not under this Head) How many arrogant and vain Boastings go to the making up this sort of Conversation too? Men are so industrious to take, to seek, to make occasions of Talking of themselves, or of somewhat that belongs to them; They do it with so sensible, and yet so nauseous a Pleasure; if they think they have said or done a good thing, or that somewhat they are possest of is better than ordinary, They are so uneasie till they have publish'd and enlarg'd upon it; as if all their Wit and Worth were lost, unless other People were made sensible of it too: They catch at the very first Convenience, cry it up to the greatest Degree imaginable; nay, they perfectly bring it in by Head and Shoulders, and interrupt all o­ther Discourse to start This: And when any body else is Talking, we presently thrust our selves in, and take an Advantage of shewing our Parts; so eager are we that People shou'd understand what we are, and have a regard for us; and not for Us only, but for every thing that we have a regard for.

7 As a yet greater Demonstration, how absolute a Sovereignty Vanity hath obtain'd over Humane Na­ture,Publick Commoti­ons. we need but recollect the most considerable Revolutions that ever happen'd in the World, and the Occasions of them: For thus it will soon ap­pear, that the most general and most formidable Convulsions of Cities and Kingdoms, and whole Empires; the Seditions, and Revolts, and Fates of Armies; the bloodiest Battels, the barbarousest Mur­ders, the sharpest Disputes, and most implacable Quarrels, have proceeded from very trifling, ridicu­lous, and insignificant Causes. Witness the long War between Troy and Greece, the Piques of Sylla and Marius, and all the Confusions that follow'd from thence, in the Civil Wars of Caesar and Pom­pey, and Augustus and Anthony. The Poets have re­presented this well enough, by pretending an Ap­ple to have been the Boutefeu; the Original of all that Blood and Devastation in Asia and Greece. And indeed the first Springs, upon which these vast Events move, are commonly Things of no considera­tion; but That which begins very small; swells to a vast Bulk afterwards; and the blowing it up thus, is an irrefragable Proof of the Vanity and Folly of Mankind. Nay, many times an occasional thing goes further with us than the principal Cause; and some paltry little Circumstances make more sensible Impressions, and gall us more than the main Mat­ter to which they retain; as Caesar's Robe put Rome into greater Passion and Concern, than his Death it self, and the Two and twenty Stabs in his Body had done before.

8 The Last, and indeed the most exquisite Vanity, is our seeking with so much Industry and Passion,Notions of Happiness and Con­tent. and pleasing our selves so highly, nay, placing our very Happiness in Advantages, which have neither real Worth, nor Necessity to recommend Them: [Page 300]But as they are trifling and frivolous in themselves, so they are such as we may be very happy, and live very comfortably and conveniently without. Whereas on the other hand, those that are necessa­ry, and essential to our true Happiness, find little or no part of the Regard due to them; and every Body is indifferent whether he hath Them or not. Thus the Condition of Man is all Air and Specu­lation; His whole Happiness imaginary; Opinion and Dream is all he pursues; and in this he stands Alone, and cannot match himself in the whole Word. God hath all Good in Essence and Reality, and Evil in Notion and Understanding only. Man, on the contrary, hath only fantastical Good, but his Evils are weighty and substantial. Beasts are not satisfy'd with Opinion, nor do They feed upon Fan­cy, but require somewhat that is present, and sensi­ble, and real, to content them. Vanity is reserv'd to Man for his Portion, the Inheritance and peculiar Right of his Nature. He runs, he bustles, he fights, he dies, he flies, he persues; he grasps at a Sha­dow, he Worships the Wind; he sweats and toils all Day, and in the Evening, when his Gains come to be computed, a Mote is all the Wages he receives for his Work.

CHAP. XXXVII. II. Weakness.

1 WE are now advancing to the Second Head, under which Humane Nature is to be con­sidered; and This cannot be any Surprize, after what hath been said already. For how should so much Vanity be otherwise than Feeble and Frail? Accordingly, this Frailty is frankly confessed by all People, and several Instances of it reckoned up, which are too Plain not to be discerned: But then it is not observed in its due Proportion, nor in all Cases where it really hath a Part; as in those, for Instance, which seem to have more of Strength, and a less Mixture of Weakness; such as Desire; The Use and Enjoyment of what a Man is possest of; In his Good and his Evil; in short, such as Man takes a Pride in, and values himself upon. And yet, even These supposed Glories and Excellencies of his Nature, are undeniable Argu­ments of his Weakness. This may possibly seem a Paradox at first Sight; but a few particular Re­flexions, will give us a clearer and more distinct View of the Thing.

2 First, As for Desires; It is manifest a Man can­not fix upon any Thing,In desiring and choos­ing. not even in Wish and Ima­gination, so as to sit down with That, and rest himself contented. We have it not in our Power, to Chuse what is necessary, and sit for us; nor to say, in Particular, what This would be. And if Providence in Wisdom and Kindness, bestow what we desire, and what really is fit, upon us, yet it does not satisfie. We are Eternally gaping at some­what [Page 302]what Future and Unknown; and find, that what is present never fills, never contents; but what we have not, is ever esteemed above it. Could we suppose a Man so far indulged, that a Blank should be put into his Hands, to write his own Terms; yet even That Fortune of his own Carving, would not be so to his Palate, but that in a short Time he would retract it; some Alterations and Amend­ments, something to be added or taken away: In short, he desires he knows not what. How well soever the Particulars may please, yet when the Account comes to be summed up, nothing contents him; for, to say the Truth, he is Uneasie, and discontented with his own self.

3 His Weakness is still Greater, and more conspi­cuous, in the Use and Enjoyment of what he hath,In Using and Enjoy­ing. than in the Desire of what he hath not; and that in several Respects. First, in that he cannot manage, nor reap the Benefit of Things as they really are, and in their Native Purity; but there is a Necessity of disguising, and adulterating them, that they may be accommodated to our Purpose. Elements, Metals, and other Things in their Primitive Sim­plicity are perfectly useless to us; Pleasures and Delights, and never to be enjoyed without a Mix­ture of Pain and Inconvenience.

Extremity of Pleasure, carries with it an Air of Melancholy and Complaint; and the highest Gra­tifications of Sense, are Weakness, and Faintings: And that which gives True and Perfect Content­ment [Page 303]hath much more Solidity, and a severe Satis­faction, than of Gayety and Transport in it.

^† Even Happiness, it self, if it do not moderate it self, oppresses and destroys it self. Which gave occasi­on to one of the Antients to say, That God sold us all the good Things we receive from him; meaning, that none of them are Pure and Unmingled; and we cannot be said to have That gratis, for which we pay the Price of that Evil and Uneasiness which attends it. The Case is directly the same with Grief too, for This is never without some sort of Pleasure annexed to it.^‖ ‘Pleasure and Pain, tho' in their Natures the most unlike that can be, are yet so contrived, by Nature, as to be constant Companions, and go Hand in Hand—’

Thus all Things in this World are mingled and tempered with their Contraries; and it is not amiss to Observe, what Masters in Painting teach us, That the very same Motions and Muscles of the Face, are employed both in Laughing and Crying. And common Experience shews us, that excessive Laughter brings Tears. There is no good Qua­lity in us, without some Tincture of Vice, as shall be shewn in its proper Place hereafter; nor is there any Evil, without some abatement of Good.^* Eve­ry Misfortune is capable of being turned to Ad­vantage; there is no Good without Evil, no Evil without Good in Man; every Thing is a Mix­ture, and nothing comes to our Hands sincere and [Page 304]unmingled. Secondly, All that happens to us, is mismanaged, and taken by the wrong Handle; Our Palats are humorsom and uncertain, and know not how to relish Things as they ought; and from This variety of Tasts, it is, That the endless Dis­putes, and Inreconcileable Opinions, concerning the Chief Good, have proceeded. The very best Things, oftentimes, decay and die upon our Hands; are cor­rupted by our Weakness, or our Wickedness; or are lost and come to nothing, for want of Abi­lity to make the Best of them; nay, sometimes they do not only turn to No Account, but to a ve­ry Ill One; and what is Good in it self, proves to Us, a mighty Evil, and manifest Disadvan­tage.

But the Weakness of Humane Nature is most copiously display'd, 4 In Good and Evil. with regard to Good and Evil, to Virtue and Vice. My Meaning is, That a Man with all his Industry and Endeavours, cannot be entirely Good, I nor entirely Wicked. He is Ma­ster of nothing,Virtue and Vice. in short. Upon this occasion we will consider Three Points. The first is, That it is not possible to exercise every kind of Virtue; The Reason is,See Adver­tisements at the End of the Cha­pter. that some of them are incompatible, and can never dwell together; the same Persons, and the same Circumstances, are not capable of them. As for Instance, The Chastity of a Vir­gin, and that of a Widow; the Virtues of a Sin­gle, and those of a Married Life; These Latter in each Kind, Widowhood and Marriage, being Con­ditions of much more Encumbrance, and Trou­ble, more Difficulty, and therefore more Virtue, than the quiet, and undisturbed State of Celibacy and Virginity; though Those on the other Hand, have the Advantage in Purity, and Grace, and Freedom from Business and Care. The Constancy and Greatness of Mind, which exerts it self in Poverty and Want, in Affliction and Pain, is ve­ry [Page 305]Different from that, which preserves a Man's Temper in Prosperity and Plenty; and the Pa­tience and Thankfulness of the Receiving Beg­gar, from the Liberality of the Giver. And as This holds in Virtues, so does it much more in Vices, several of which are not only very far Distant, but Diametrically opposite to each other.

5 It is no less observable, Secondly, That many Times our Matters are so ordered, as not to per­mit the Performance of such Actions, as relate to One Virtue, without encroaching upon some Other, and doing what is inconsistent with, or offensive to That very Virtue we are practising; because things often interfere and obstruct us, so that we cannot satisfie One Duty, but at the Expence of Another. This is like what our Proverb calls Robbing Peter, to pay Paul, and yet thus it is; not from any Deficiency in Virtue it self, but from the Impotence and Insufficiency of Humane Na­ture, which is too short, too narrow, to give or receive any certain, constant, universal Rule of act­ing Virtuously; and Man cannot so contrive his Methods, and provide himself with Helps, and Occasions of doing Good, but that they will fre­quently cross and interrupt one another. Thus Charity and Justice are sometimes impracticable at once. If I engage against my Relation, or my Friend, in a Battle; Justice requires me to take his Life, and Treat him as an Adversary; Charity and Affection bid me spare and preserve him as a Friend. Suppose a Man mortally wounded, and that he hath nothing to expect, but the languishing out the miserable Remains of Life, in extreme Torture; it were certainly an Act of Charity, to put this wretched Creature out of his Pain, by killing him out-right, as the Person who kill'd Saul alledged for himself; and yet this is such a Mercy, as Justice would call one to an Account for; and [Page 306] David punished it accordingly. Nay, the being found near such a Person in a lonely Place, when Search is made for the Murderer, though one be there with Intentions of Kindness, is exceeding Dangerous; and the least, that can come of it, is the being made to undergo the Course of the Law; and brought upon Tryal for a Misfortune which one had no Hand in. And this last Instance shews, how Justice does not only offend against Charity, but also how it intangles and obstructs it self, according to that most true Observation,^* The Extremity of Right is the Extremity of Wrong.

6 The Third Case, and indeed, the most remarka­ble of all, is The Necessity Men are sometimes under of using Evil Means to deliver themseves from some greater Evil; or for the compassing some Good End. So that Things in themselves not Good, nay, much otherwise, are sometimes legiti­mated, and have Credit and Authority given to them, for the Sake of the Purposes they serve: As if Men might, nay, as if they must, be wicked in some Degree, in Order to becoming Good in a grea­ter. And this not only Policy and Justice; but Religion too, furnishes Examples of.

7 In Politicks, How many indirect Practices are allow'd,II Politicks and daily made use of? And this not merely upon Permission and Connivence, but e­ven by express Direction and Approbation of the Laws.^† Crimes are Established by Publick Edicts, as we shall have Occasion to observe more at large in another Place.Book III. Chap. 2. When a State is full and over­grown, like a replete Body, whose Humours are either too Noxious, or too many to be endured; the Method of discharging this Oppression, is, to send off its Superfluities of Men, or those among [Page 307]them, who are of the hottest and warlike Dispo­sitions, to be knock'd on the Head abroad. Thus a Vein is breath'd; but the Ease it gives, is at the infinite Expence and Trouble of some other Coun­trey. And this we know hath been the Practice of Franks and Lombards, Goths and Vandales, Turks and Tartars. So again, a Foreign War is often begun, and maintained abroad, on purpose to keep busie Spirits employ'd, and to prevent In­surrections, and Civil Dissentions at Home. Ly­curgus, as a Lesson of Temperance, used to make Slaves Drunk; that Men of Quality, from Their Extravagances, might learn to detest this Vice. The Romans, to harden their People, and make Dangers and Death familiar and contemptible, in­stituted those Inhumane Sights of their Gladia­tors, and entertained them with Blood and Slaugh­ter every Day. This at first, indeed, was consin'd to condemned Malefactors only; then it came to Innocent Slaves; and at last Free-Men, and People of Condition practised, and valued them­selves upon it. The Stews in some great Cities, are of the same Kind; and so are the Usury, the Divorces of the Law of Moses, and among other People and Persuasions; Whose only Re­commendation is This, That they are allowed for a present Necessity, and to put a Stop to greater Mischiefs.

8 So likewise in Justice, which cannot subsist nor be put in practice,III. Justice. without some mixture of In­justice. Nor is this the Case of Communtative Justice only, This were no strange Matter; for here it is in some sort necessary; Men could not live by their Trades, nor maintain Commerce with one ano­ther without some reciprocal Injuries and Ossen­ces; every Man must sell a thing for more than it is strictly worth; and therefore some Laws have allow'd Men to Cheat, provided it be not above [Page 308]half the Price of the Goods: But Distributive Ju­stice, which consists in dealing Rewards and Pu­nishments, does the like; so she her self confesses,^* Extreme Right is extreme Wrong. And All eminent exemplary Cases have some Allay of Injustice in them; wherein however, the Hardships which private Men suf­fer, are well paid with the Advantages that accrue to the Publick from them. Plato allows in several places, that Publick Ministers should draw Criminals to a full Discovery, by false Hopes and Promises of Pardon and Favour, which they never intend to make good. Which is to make a way to Justice thro' Impudence, and Cozenage, and Falshood. And what shall we say of that cursed Invention of Racks, which are a Tryal of Patience indeed, but none at all of Truth? For you shall never be able to get the Truth out of Them that can, nor out of Them that cannot endure them. Why shou'd we think extremity of Pain can more dispose a Man to tell what is, than to tell what is not? If an Innocent Man be supposed endu'd with Patience enough to bear the Torture, why should the Con­cern for saving his Life inspire a guilty Person with the same degree of Resolution? I know it is commonly reply'd in excuse of this Barbarity, That the Pain astonishes and enfeebles the Guil­ty, and extorts a Confession of his Treachery from him; whereas it hath the quite contrary effects of confirming and fortifying the Innocent. But the Contrary of this happens so often, that to speak the Truth, This is an ensnaring and a pitiful Me­thod; a poor and base way of Dealing, full of Doubt and Uncertainty. For what would not a [Page 309]Man say or do to get quit of such Misery?^* Pain extorts Lies from the most Innocent; so that a Judge, which examines upon the Rack, to prevent the Death of Innocent Persons, first Racks the Inno­cent, and then Murders him. Many a Thousand People have loaded themselves with false Accusa­tions. But were it not so, what intolerable In­justice and Cruelty is it to torture and break a Man to pieces, for a Fault which as yet there is no Proof of? To avoid killing him without Cause, they do ten times worse than kill him. If he be innocent, and bear it out, What Justice can there be in putting him to any Pain at all? You'll say, By bearing the Rack he is absolv'd; I thank you very kindly. But This, however, tho' an Evil, is the least, Humane Infirmity could contrive; and yet this is not practised every where neither. I confess, to Me the Custom of determining Con­troversies, and clearing Men's Innocence by Com­bat, seems to have less of Injustice and Barbarity in it. And yet This, tho' formerly much in request, is long since very justly condemned and exploded. For Christianity allows no such bloody Methods, nor warrants any dependence upon them, for a discovery of the Truth.

9 But if Man be so weak (as we have seen) in regard of Virtue, and in his practical Capacity; V. Truth. he is much more so in his Intellectual, and in relation to Truth. Tis prodigious, that Man should be so form'd by Nature, as to desire Truth eagerly, and grudge no Pains to attain it; and yet so at the same time, as not to bear it when it offers it self to his View. The Flashes of it blind him, the Thunder of it stuns him; it is too bright, and too loud to be born. This is not Truth's Fault how­ever, [Page 310]which is exceeding beautiful, exceeding love­ly, exceeding good and beneficial to Mankind; and what was said of Virtue and Wisdom, is at least as properly applicable to Truth; ^* That could we be­hold all its Charms, the whole World would be infinitely in love with it. But the Defect is on Man's side; his Faculties cannot bear so strong a Light; its Beams dazzle, nay hurt his Senses. In Affairs mere­ly Humane, he that sets it before us, is esteem'd our Enemy. Truth and Plain-dealing are disobliging things. And what Perversness is this? that what we love and seek so passionately, we should be so loath, so angry to find? Truth is not only amia­ble, but knowable too, yet not perfectly so by Us; for at present it seems Man is only strong in De­sire, but weak in his Enjoyment of it; and not able to receive what he desires. The Two chief Means made use of to bring him to the Knowledge of the Truth, are Reason and Experience. But both these are insufficient, and so very weak (tho' of the Two, Experience seems the more so) that no cer­tain Conclusions can be drawn from them. Rea­son hath so many Tricks and Turnings, is so flexible in its Arguments, and so disguis d in its Forms, that any thing may be made plausible from it; (as will be observ'd in another place) Experience is no less fallible, because Events are constantly un­like one another. Nothing in Nature is so Univer­sal as Disparity; nothing so rare, so difficult, so impossible indeed as Likeness: And nothing argues greater Weakness, and want of Judgment, than the not being able to discern and distinguish the Difference. This, however, is to be understood of such a Likeness, and such a Diversity as is perfect, and holds in every Circumstance: For indeed both Similitude and Dissimilitude are everywhere in some respect and degree. No Two things are in every [Page 311]regard Like; none in all respects Unlike one ano­ther. So exceedingly ingenious hath Nature ap­prov'd herself in the Mixture and Composition of the World.

But after all, What can make more full Disco­veries of Humane Infirmity, than Religion it self hath done? Its main Intention and End is to lower Man in his own Esteem; to shew, and make him duly sensible, how wicked, how weak, how mere a Nothing he is; and in this humble Sense, to drive him to God for Succour and Support, who is, indeed, his Happiness, his Resuge and Strength; nay, his All. The first Method taken to inculcate these mean Notions of our Selves, is by In­structing, Reminding, Upbraiding us; setting before us the Reproachful Titles of Dust and Ashes, Earth, Flesh and Blood, Grass, and the like.

After that, it insinuates this Truth after a most noble, and excellent, and stupendous manner; in­troducing God, humbling, debasing himself, and becoming weak for the sake of Man; speaking, expostulating, entreating, promising, swearing, growing angry, threatning; and, in a Word, en­tring into Treaty and Terms, and managing him by all the endearing Arts of Persuasion, in the same tender, kind, condescending Methods, with which a fond Father wins and gains upon his Children, by stooping to their little Follies, and imitating their Infant-Imperfections. So very great it seems, so insuperable was the Weakness of Hu­mane Nature, that no Access could be attain'd, no Correspondence held with the Divinity, till God himself was pleas'd to make the first Approaches; and by descending to our Capacities, and our Le­vel, to draw us nearer to himself. While He con­tinu'd in his Native Majesty, the Distance was too vast; and therefore the only way to bring Us up to Heaven, was for God to come down upon Earth.

A Third Instance is in the Ordinary Exercise of Religion; for what more lively Emblems, more ex­pressive Symbols, more unanswerable Proofs of our Impotence and Insirmity, than the Principal and most Solemn Acts of Worship have ever been?

What shall we say to Sacrifices, which in for­mer Ages seem to have been in use all the World over? I mention not the horrible unnatural Cruel­ties, into which, thro' the Corruption of Mankind, and the Wicked Artifice of the Devil, this Custom degenerated in Idolatrous Countries; those barba­rous Oblations, or rather Murders and Massacres of Men and Children, of the best and most innocent Persons among them: But, confining our selves to that of Beasts only, we shall be clearly convinc'd, that These were so many Marks and Remembrancers of Men's own Vileness and Infirmity.

For, first of all; In the very Nature of the Thing, they were so many Testimonies of the Curse and Condemnation we lay under; a sort of publick, au­thentick Acknowledgment, that the Offerer him­self had justly deserv'd that Death, inflicted by Him upon the Beast; and a beseeching God to accept that devoted Life, in the stead of his own forfeited Life: For without all Dispute, had there been no Curse, no Condemnation to which Men were liable; neither wou'd there have been any Place, or possible Occasion for Bloody Offerings, Expiations, or Propi­tiatory Sacrifices.

This is a farther Evidence, Secondly, of our Weakness, if we look at the Meanness of the In­tention, upon which that Usage grew and was encourag'd; and That cou'd be no other than the Hope of Appeasing and Gratifying Almighty God, by such Bloody Oblations. I speak not now of the Reasons why God instituted Sacrifices; but of that Notion which plainly appears to have been predominant in the Minds of Men, who did not [Page 313]see into the Mysterious End of them; which the Generality of the Jews themselves never did; and much less cou'd it be expected that the Pagan World shou'd penetrate into it.

It is true, indeed, Almighty God, in great Grace and Compassion to those more early and ignorant Ages of the World, which knew no better; did very favourably accept Good Men, when they ap­proached him with this sort of Devotion; and the Apostle takes particular Notice of his having Re­spect to Abel and his Offering; Heb. xi. as the History of the Old Testament does, of his testifying that Accep­tance by visible Signs, in the Case of Noah, Abra­ham, and Others. There being this Motive to his Mercy, that what was done of that kind proceed­ed from an Intention to serve and honour him; and that the Understandings of Men were gross and heavy; they were in their Minority, and un­der a Schoolmaster, (as St. Paul expresses it of the Jewish People) but at the same time honest and well-meaning: And it is not improbable, that this Opinion, so universal at That time, might represent Sacrifices to them, as a Dictate of the Law of Nature, and the only proper Method of Divine Worship.

There was, it is confessed, another Con­sideration, which rendred Sacrifices very valuable and well-pleasing to God; whereby they were made use of, as Figures and Representations of that One truly meritorious Sacrifice, to be offer'd upon the Altar of the Cross afterwards. But this is a My­stery peculiar to the Jewish and Christian Religion. And as it is a Common, so is it an Excellent and Adorable Instance of the Divine Wisdom, to con­vert what is of Human Institution, Natural Usage, or of a Corporeal Nature, to High and Holy Pur­poses, and make such things as the Ceremonial Law consisted of, turn to a Spiritual Account.

But still This does not by any means infer, that God took pleasure in these things, as of any real Intrinsick Worth and Good in themselves; For even before Grace and Truth set this Matter in its clearest Light by the Gospel, the Prophets were not sparing to declare the Contrary; and Those among the Jews of more enlightened Un­derstandings, saw this perfectly well, and acknow­ledged it, even while the Practice of offering them continu'd.Psal. li. Thus David; Thou desirest no Sacrifice, else would I give it thee, but thou delightest not in Burnt-Offerings. Psal. xl. Burnt-Offering and Sacrifice for Sin hast thou not requir'd. And again, speaking in the Person of God himself,Psal. l. I will take no Bullock out of thy House, nor He-Goat out of thy Folds. They call'd upon Men for Oblations of another kind, more Noble and Spiritual; more becoming Them to bring, and more worthy and fit for a Holy Deity to receive. The Sacrifice of God is a Contrite Spirit, and the Offering of a pure Heart: Mine Ears hast thou opened, that I should do thy Will; yea thy Law is with­in my Heart. Offer unto God the Sacrifice of Praise and Thanksgiving; I will have Mercy and not Sacri­fice. And many other Passages to the same Pur­pose. And at last, to clear this Matter, and put it beyond a Doubt, the Son of God himself, who was Truth, and the Teacher of it, and who condescended to come into the World, that he might disabuse Mankind, and rescue them from their Ignorance and Errours, hath utterly abolish'd this way of serving God: Which he wou'd ne­ver have done, had there been any Essential Good­ness in it, which cou'd have recommended it for its own sake to God his Father. But when He was come to be the End of the Law, and the Uni­versal Propitiation, the use of Sacrifices was at an End too;John iv. 23, 24. and then it is, They that worship God must worship him in Spirit and in Truth; for the Fa­ther [Page 315]seeketh such to worship him. And without Que­stion, next to the Extirpating Idolatry, This of abolishing Sacrifices, is One of the most Glorious, Publick Effects; One of the best Reformations, which Christianity hath wrought in the World. And hence it was, that Julian, the Emperour, its most professed, most inveterate Enemy, in De­spight to it, offered more Sacrifices, than perhaps a­ny other Man ever did; and endeavoured to in­troduce This Way of Worship, and Idolatry again, as being both directly in Contradiction to the Christian Religion. But of This we have spoken sufficiently; and therefore let us now take a short View of some of the other considerable Branches of Religion.

The Blessed Sacraments, when Adminished to us in Elements so common, and of such mean Esteem, as Bread and Wine, and Water; and not only so, but in the very Act of Administration bearing. Resemblance to the most Vulgar and Despicable Actions of Life, as Wishing, Eating and Drinking, are plain Memento's of our continual Weaknesses, and Wants, our Miseries and Pollutions. And as the marvellous Efficacy magnifies the Almighty Power and Goodness of God, so the Need we have of them, should humble us, with mortify­ing Reflections upon our own feeble Condition.

Thus again, Repentance is prescribed, as the Ne­cessary, the only Remedy for our Spiritual Dis­eases; and 'tis plain, This, Considered in it self, is an Act full of Shame and Reproach; it up­braids us with our Faults and Follies; afflicts our Souls with Grief and sad Remorse; and shews us to our Selves in the Worst, and most Deformed Figures, that can be: But, however Evil and Un­comely this may seem in it self, yet it is Neces­sary for reconciling us to God, and That is enough to reconcile Us to it. Another Instance may be [Page 316]taken from Oaths, which are, indeed, Religious Acts, when lawfully practised, by Reason of the Name of God, solemnly invoked in them: But yet, it is evident, that the Common Use and Administra­tion of these, is a Scurvy Symptome, a most shameful Argument, how little Mankind are to be trusted; What Monsters of Falshood, and Trea­chery, of Errour and Ignorance, we are! How vilely suspicious and distrustful the Person requiring them is, and how liable to Jealousie, the Person from whom they are demanded; and what a mean Opinion those Law-givers, who ordered them, had, of Mens Honesty and Truth; when one's bare Word will not give Satisfaction, nd (as our Saviour says) whatsoever is more than this, Matt. V. 37. cometb of Evil. Thus you see, not only how Weak and Sickly our Condition is; but likewise what sort of Remedies, Religion hath found it Necessary to ap­ply for our Cure. Since it may be said, in some Sense, with Regard to these Matters, That God hath chosen the weak things of this World. 1 Cor. I. He did not appoint such as were Noblest and most Excellent in their own Nature, but condescended to consi­der the Circumstances of the Patients, and hath accommodated his Applications to Our Capacities. So that the Goodness these Things have, is not so much inherent in their own Nature, as it is Relative, and derived from the Uses they serve, and the Ends to which they are directed. They are Good, as Medicines are, because they check Evil, and prevent that which is Worse. They kill the Cause and Occasion of themselves; for, they sprung from Sin, and their Business is to extirpate, and restrain Sin. They are Good, as publick Executions are in Common-Wealths; as Sneezing, and Vomiting, and other such violent Exacuations, in our Bodies, whereby the noxious Humours, which oppress Na­ture, are discharged; such as are at once the Sign [Page 317]and the Remedy of a Distemper. In short, It is well for us that we have them; but it had been abundantly better for us, if we had never had any Occasion to make use of them; and That Occa­sion we never should have had, if Man had con­tinued as God made him, and preserved his Ori­ginal Wisdom and Integrity. And accordingly we may take Notice, that These are Things fitted to this frail and mortal State only; and not any of Those more Noble Parts of Religion, which shall be the Eternal Exercise of our Souls hereaf­ter, when we are released from this Bondage of Flesh and Corruption. When our Imperfections and our Sins cease, These cease with them; whereas our Praises, our Love of God, and other Duties of Intrinsick Goodness, and of Eternal Use and Obligation; so far from dying with our Sins and Bodies, that they will be the more Constant, the more Delightful Employment, of our Sinless and Exalted State; and make a considerable Part of the Heavenly, and Divine Life.

The former Remarks have shewn Man's Imbe­cillity in Goodness and Truth; what follows may perhaps surprise you more, because it undertakes to represent him no less impotent in Evil too. For They who do their utmost Endeavour to be Wicked, cannot be entirely so, but are always forced to leave somewhat unfinished. There is constantly some Secret Remorse, some Conside­ration of Honour, or Fear, that checks, and pulls them back; slackens and enervates the Will, and keeps them from part of the Villany they intended. And this Restraint hath been the Ruine of many a One, who hath proposed to save himself, by venturing no farther. Which sort of Folly, and the Miscarriages that have been owing to it, gave Occasion to that Proverb, That a Man must ne­ver play the Fool by halves.

This Rule is Judicious enough, but deserves a little Illustration, because, as it hath a Good, so is it likewise capable of a very Bad Sense. To un­derstand it, as if a Man ought to abandon all Conscience, and might in any Circumstances do Well and Wisely to be Wicked without Reserve, is a very perverse Interpretation, and would ren­der it a most pernicious Maxim. In this Respect, that Contrary Proverb is most True, that The short­est Follies are the Best. But it is True too, that in some Cases Mildness and Moderation are of Dan­gerous Consequence; as particularly, when we have a desperate and formidable Enemy to deal with, and (as we commonly say) Hold a Wolf by the Ears. A Man then hath no safe Middle-Way left; no Course to take, but either the winning him over entirely by Courtesie, or absolutely to sub­due, and put him out of a Capacity, to do us far­ther Mischief. This was the constant Method of the Romans, and a very prudent One no doubt it is. Thus Camillus remonstrated to the Senate in the Case of the Latines, after several Revolts, suing for Terms of Reconciliation; That they must ei­ther be admitted into Friendship, or not suffered to be a People any longer; and^* That there was no other Way left to secure a lasting Peace, but either Extremity of Rigour, or a Generous Pardon. In such an Exigence of Affairs, to do Things by Halves, is to ruine All;Heren­nius. as the Samnites found by woful Expe­rience, who for want of following the Advice of a^† Wise Old Senator, who when they had hemm'd in the Romans, and had them at their Mercy, gave his [Page 319]Opinion, either for obliging them by Honourable Treatment, or for cutting them all off; paid very dear. That of Courtesie, is the Nobler Conquest, and ought to be a Man's First Choice; The Se­cond is only for Cases of Extremity, and such Ene­mies as Kindness will do no Good upon. Now, from all these Instances, the Infirmity of Humane Nature appears very evidently, both with Regard to Good and Evil. A Man can neither perform, nor avoid either entirely, and without reserve; and what he does, or so much as he declines of it, is neither the One nor the Other, absolutely and without mixture. There is some Allay, some Abate­ment in both Extremes, and thus Man hath it not in his Power to be exquisitely Good, or exquisitely Wicked, but finds himself checked and confined, on either Hand.

12 Let us proceed to observe some other Effects, and plain Indications of Humane Infirmity.In Reproofs and De­nyals. It is a Littleness of Soul, which makes Men, that they neither dare, nor can reprove others, when they have done amiss, nor can bear being reproved Themselves, when they deserve it. And this far­ther Remark is likewise True, That Men, as they have, or want Courage, for One of These, so do they constantly, for the Other of them too. Now, This is a very Foolish Niceness, to deprive our Selves, or our Friend, of so Beneficial and Necessary a Kindness, merely for a slight Scratch, which at the most does but pinch our Ears, and make them tingle a little. And near of Kin to This, is that other Folly, of not daring to deny what we are sensible is not fit for us to grant, and not being able to receive a Repulse, with a­ny manner of Temper.

13 When Men are falsely suspected, and wrongfully accused, they are liable to a Two-fold Nicety,False Susp [...] ­ons, and Accusa­tions. and each of These is chargeable with Weakness. (In [Page 320]such Accusations, I mean, as common Report lays, and not Those which fall upon them in the Me­thods of Law and Justice) One of these Extremes, is the Being too easily moved, and over-indu­strious to excuse, or to justifie Themselves, and this sometimes most Impertinently, and Officiously.

A Man cannot wrong his Innocence more, than thus, to stake his Conscience upon every slight Provocation, and refer his Honesty to the Arbi­tration of all Companies he comes into.^† When Things are plain of themselves, a set Argument does but perplex and confound them. Socrates, upon his Tryal, would not submit to be vindicated, either by Him­self or by any Other; and rather chose to die Silently, than accept the Assistance of that Eminent Pleader Lysias, in his Defence.

But the Other Weakness is just opposite to This; when a Man of Courage gives himself no Trou­ble, nor takes the least Pains about his own Justi­fication; tho' the Charge upon him have gain'd Ground, and prepossest many; when he despises the Accusation, and the Persons that lay it, as not worth his Answer or Notice; and thinks it would be a Disparagement and a Reflection to en­gage with them. This indeed hath been the Pra­ctice of some great and generous Spirits; of scipio especially, who several times weathered his Point thus, with marvellous Constancy and Firmness of Soul. But a great many Persons disapprove this Method, and take offence at it; for they think it [Page 321]proceeds from Haughtiness and Disdain, too great a Value of Themselves, and want of due Regard for other People. That the depending too much upon one's Own Innocence, and not submitting to remove Jealousies, is ill Treatment: Or else, this obstinate Silence and Contempt, they interpret Consciousness of Guilt, Distrust of Justice, and want of Ability to justifie one's self effectually. Miserable Condition of Mankind in the mean while! that when they are suspected and accused, have no possible way of giving entire Satisfacti­on; but whether they speak, or whether they sit still and hold their Peace; whether they do, or do not take care to defend their Names from Re­proach, and sure to incur the Imputation of Weak­ness and Cowardice. We think it a Mark of Courage, and advise Men not to be Sollicitous in making Excuses; and when they take our Advice, we are such Fools to Resent it, and complain that they do not think Us worth excusing Them­selves to.

14 Another Evidence of Weakness is the enslaving our selves to any particular Manner, and affecting to be distinguished by some uncommon way of Living. This is a vile Effeminacy,Niceness and Affe­ctation. a Niceness most unbecoming a Man of Honour; it renders us ridiculous and disagreeable in Conversation; and is highly injurious to our Selves; by soften­ing our Minds, and making us tender and delicate, and unfit to struggle with any Accident, which may constrain us to change our Course of Life. Besides, it is a Reproach, not to dare to do, or endure, what the rest of the Company do. Such People are fit for no Place but an Alcove, or a Dressing-Room. The best Fashion, when all is done, is to be Negligent, and Complying, and Hardy, if need be; to dare, and be able to do any thing; but to use this Power in such things [Page 322]only, as are innocent and good. A Man does well to know and observe Rules; but not to En­slave himself to them.

15 Another Vulgar Folly there is, and a very ge­neral one,Consulting of Books. which comes under this Head of Weak­ness. Tis the running after foreign Examples in Authors; being fond of Quotations, allowing no Testimony to have Weight or Credit, except it be in Print; nor any thing to be True, but what is Old, and in Books. According to this Rule, the Press may give Reputation to the greatest Fol­lies; Whereas in truth, every Day presents us with fresh Instances of Things in no degree infe­riour to those more celebrated ones of Antiquity. And if we had but the Wit and the Judgment to make good Reflections upon These; to cull and collect carefully such as are for our Purpose; to examine them curiously, and discover all their Beauties, the Improvement would be wonderful; And every Age would be equal to any of the past, the Transactions whereof we so zealously study and admire; and, to be plain, we study and admire them for no other Reason so much, as that they have Antiquity and Authors to recommend them.

16 This again is an Evidence of Weakness, That Men are capable of nothing,Extremes except in moderate Proportions; Extremes of any kind are what they cannot bear. If they are very small, and make a despicable Figure, we despise and disdain them, as not worth our Consideration: If they be ex­ceeding great and glorious, we are afraid of them, admire, and take offence at them. The Former of these Remarks concerns Men of great Quality, and great Judgment: The Second is more general­ly true of meaner Attainments and Circumstances in the World.

17 This appears very plain too, in our Hearing and Sight,Sudden Ac­cident. when we are struck all on the sudden with some unexpected and surprizing Accident, which seizes our Spirits before we know where we are. The Amazements of this kind are sometimes so great, as to deprive us of our Speech, of our Sen­ses; so Virgil describes the thing,

nay, sometimes Life it self hath gone too. And This, whether the Event were prosperous, as that Roman Lady, who dy'd for Joy to see her Son safe return'd out of a beaten Army; and the Examples of Sophocles, and Dionysius the Tyrant, Tessifie; or whether it be unhappy, as Diodorus, dy'd upon the Spot for Shame, that he was baf­fled in a Dispute.

One Instance more I will add, which discovers it self Two ways, in direct opposition to one ano­ther. Some Persons are vanquish'd into Mercy by Tears, and Submissions, and earnest Entreaties; and are offended at Firmness and Courage, as if this were Sullenness, and Obstinacy, and Pride. Others Acknowledgments, and Prayers, and Com­plaints make no manner of Impression upon; but Constancy and Resolution wins them. The For­mer of these proceeds no doubt from Weakness; and accordingly, we find it more incident and common to Mean, and Effeminate, and Vulgar Souls. But the Second it is not so easie to give an account of; and yet this Temper is incident to [Page 324]Men of all Conditions. One would think it an Argument of a brave and generous Spirit, to be wrought upon by Virtue, and a generous Manly Behaviour; and so no doubt it is, if This be done out of a due Veneration for Virtue, as Scanderbeg receiv'd a Soldier into Favour, for the gallant and obstinate Defence he made against him; and as Pompey, the whole City of the Mammertines, out of the regard he had to Zeno, who was one of their Bo­dy: And as the Emperour Conrade forgave the Duke of Bavaria, and the rest of them that were besieged with him, for the Bravery of the Wo­men, who convey'd them away upon their Heads. But if this Yielding proceed from the Surprize and Confusion, occasion'd by the over-bearing Power of some Superiour Virtue, (as the People of Thebes, who were quite dispirited when they heard Epaminon­das in his Defence, reckon up his good Services, and noble Exploits, and Reproach their base Ingratitude with a becoming Indignation; and Alexander, when he despised the noble Resolution of Betis, who was taken with the City of Gaza, of which he was Commander) then there is another Account to be given of it. The Former of these was Weakness; the Second, neither the effect of Courage nor Weak­ness, but of Anger and Rage; which in Alexander was never subject to any Check, nor ever knew any Moderation.

CHAP. XXXVIII. III. Inconstancy.

MAN is a Creature wonderfully Various and Mutable; and the great Difficulty of coming to any Judgment concerning Him, which should be certain, fixt, and universal, proceeds from hence, That our Lives are not all of a Piece, but made up of disagreeing and different Parcels. Most part of our Actions do not arise from steady Thought, but are sudden Starts and Sallies, the Effects of Accident and Impulse, and look like Shreds of se­veral Stuffs patch'd up, and sewed together. First Irresolution, and then Fickleness and Change of Measures when we have resolved, are the com­monest and most apparent Vices of Humane Na­ture. And our Actions, 'tis plain, do so strangely cross and contradict one another, that it is not easie to believe so many Contrarieties should all be deriv'd from the same Original. We change [Page 329]and are not sensible of it: We run eagerly after every Whimsie of our own Appetites, and are born away by the Stream of Accidents and Passions; Tis no more Reason, but Inclination that governs us:^* But sure it is, nothing can ever be regular and stea­dy, which is not directed and order'd by Reason and Me­thod. Thus our very Minds and Tempers vary too; the Climate, the Weather, and the Motions of Time and Seasons, make considerable Alterations and Differences in us.

Our whole Life is nothing else, but one unequal, irregular, and many-figur'd Motion; nothing strait, nothing steady; We are perpetually mo­ving and turning; and the very change of our Posture is so frequent, as to be an Uneasiness and Trouble to us.^‡ No Man continues to wish and design the same thing two Days together. Now the Man is for Marrying; by and by a Mistress is preferr'd before a Wife: Now he is Ambitious and Aspiring, and looks Big; presently the meanest Servant is not more humble, more condescending than He. This Hour he squanders his Money away; the next he turns Miser, and scrapes all he can. Sometimes he is frugal and serious; sometimes pro­fuse, airy, and gay. Thus we shift our Characters each Moment, and act a Thousand several Parts.

So little is any of us the same; and so much har­der is it to Sound and Know Man perfectly, than any other Creature whatsoever: For he is full of Doubles and Trickings; the closest, cunningest, and most Counterfeit part of the Creation. He hath a Thousand little Closets and false Doors, where he hides, and comes out again; Sometimes a Man, sometimes a Monster; a Thousand Breath­ing-holes, at which he blows sometimes Hot, some­times Cold, and almost blinds you with Cloud and Smoak. Every Agitation is but a fresh Folly; and the Course of his Life One continu'd Errour. He is born in the Morning, and dies at Night; is sometimes in Chains, and sometimes at large; sometimes God, and sometimes an Insect: He Langhs and Cries for the same thing; is satisfy'd and dissatisfy'd; ever wishing, and never knowing what he would be at. Sometimes transported, and ready to leap out of his Skin for Joy; and presently again so melancholy and dejected, that nothing can con­tent, nothing quiet him, or make him think Life tolerable.

CHAP. XXXIX. Misery.

1 WE are now to draw the largest and most distinguishing Line of the whole Piece. Misery proper to Man. Man hath been, already, described Vain and Feeble, Frail and Inconstant, with Regard to Goodness and Happi­ness, and Ease; But he is strong and lusty, constant and hardened, and tough in Misery. He is in a man­ner Misery alive, and in Humane Shape; and no one Word is equally expressive of his Condition. For all Misery centers in him, and dwells in no other part of the World besides. To be Miserable is the Property of our Nature; Man alone is so, and e­very Man is so, as will appear by and by. For a true Representation of this Matter, it were conve­nient to run over all the parts of his Life; to de­scribe his Essence, his Coming into the World, his Stay in it, and his Departure out of it. This were an endless Undertaking, and I pretend not to it; nor need I indeed, because so many have handled the Subject before me. When I intend at present, is only to instance in some Particulars, not commonly taken Notice of, nor reputed Unhap­pinesses; at least, such as Men do not throughly consider, nor are sufficiently sensible of, tho' they be in reality very grievous, if we make a true Judg­ment of them.

2 Take this then for the First Proof of Man's Misery, In his Be­ginning and End. That his First Appearances in the World are Mean and Despicable; but his Going out of it, his Death and Destruction, are esteem'd Glorious and full of Honour. By which One would be tem­pted [Page 332]to think this a monstrous Creature, in the Production whereof there is so much Shame, and so much Reputation in the Unmaking him again. What relates to the former of These, Modesty draws a Veil over; But the latter is proclaimed and receiv'd with Triumph; The Instruments are pre­pared with great Expence; We wear them con­stantly about us, and look upon Them as Orna­ments to our Persons. We are born in Chambers pri­vately, but die before many Spectators, in Fields and Camps, in the Sight of the Sun, and with Sound of Trumpet, and are proud of Butchering one another. Nature hath provided but One Way of coming into the World, but a great many Pas­sages out; and, as if even thus Nature had done too little, Invention and Industry have added their As­sistance, and make Men every Day more Ingeni­ous in new Arts of Killing. Laws and Customs have not assigned any Recompence for Mens Skill in multiplying, or in preserving Mankind; But all our Ensigns of Honour, and for the destroying it. Arms of Families, Advancements, Riches Com­mands, Triumphs, and Trophies are decreed to Them that are mighty to oppress, to grieve, to murder Mankind. The Two great Heroes of all Story, Alex­ander and Caesar, were each of them (according to Pliny's Computation) the Death of more than a million of Men, and yet neither of these added One to the Number. And heretofroe, Men were slaughtered in Publick Theatres, merely for Plea­sure and Pastime.^* Man, a Creature Venerable and Sacred, is slain for Sport and Diversion; Death in Man is Entertainment sufficient. Innocent Persons are brought upon the Stage, to be Sacrificed for the [Page 333]Peoples Pleasure. In some Nations it is Usual to curse the Day of their Birth, and bless That of their Death. And the Wisest Man That ever lived, hath taught us, that the Latter of These is much Better of the Two. Now, no Other Creature is so discontented with it self; nor are the Particu­lars here mention'd, True of Beasts, or any Part of the Creation besides.

3 The Second Evidence of his Misery, may be taken from the Retrenchment of Pleasures;Destroying his Piea­sure. Those poor and low Pleasures of which he is capable (for the Head of Weakness may have satisfy'd us, that the Pure and Exquisite are too resin'd for him) the Care taken to abate of the Number, and to check the relish of them. If this be not done upon a Religious Account, how monstrous a Folly is it? Thus far Man is oblig'd to become his own Ene­my; to rob and betray Himself; so that even his Pleasures are Burdens, and he contributes to his own Uneasiness. And this some are so superstiti­ously severe in, that they avoid Health, and Good Humour, and Mirth, as Evils. ‘^*Oh wretched Men! whose Pleasures are their Crime.’

We are exceedingly ingenious to our Disadvantage; and the Force of our Wit feeds upon nothing more, than the contriving new Arts of Uneasiness to our Selves.

4 Thus it is plainly in a much worse Instance than the former: Creating Misfor­tunes to our selves. For the Mind of Man does not only spoil Good, and deny its own Appetites, and check even lawful Delights; but it is eternally busie in framing and forging Pains and Evils. Thus Things which have in reality nothing of Evil in Them, [Page 334]and such as Beasts stand in no Fear at all of, our Minds draw in the blackest Colours, and most hi­deous Shapes; and then tremble, and start, and run away, from Monsters of their own making. Thus we esteem it a mighty Unhappiness, not to be Honourable, and Rich, and Great; and look upon Cuckoldom, want of Children, and Death, as insupportable Evils. Whereas, to speak freely, I know no Temporal Affliction which is really E­vil, and felt to be so, but Pain only. And the Reason, why some Wise Men have been known to fear those other things, was not upon the account of the Things themselves, but of the Pain which may happen to be an inseparable Atten­dant upon them. For This sometimes is a Forerun­ner of Death; and sometimes it follows upon Po­verty and Disgrace. But if you consider these Mat­ters, (abstracting the Pain) all the rest is mere Imagination; a Thing that hath no Being, but in our own Brains; which are eternally cutting them­selves out new work, and forming Evils that are not, to add to Those that are; thus enlarging our Misery, and finding it fresh Employment, instead of quieting and cutting it short. For the Beasts feel nothing of all this; and therefore it is plain they are Evils, not of Nature's, but of Fancy's making.

5 As for Pain, Born to Pain. which seems the only real Evil, Man is perfectly fitted for That, and born to it. The Mexicans welcome their Children into the World, with this Salutation; Child, thou art come into this World to suffer; take it patiently, and hold thy Peace. And Three Arguments there are, which may convince us, that Pain is in a manner Natu­ral to Man; and a State of Indolence or Pleasure, foreign to his Constitution. The First is, that eve­ry Part about a Man is susceptible of Pain, and but very few capable of Pleasure. The Second, [Page 335]That Those which are capable of Pleasure, can re­ceive but one or two sorts of it; but all the Parts receive great variety of Pains, and Those of the most different kinds too; Extremity of Heat and Cold, Pricking, Bursting, Bruising, Scratching, Flaying, Beating, Scalding, Fainting, Swooning, Extension, Oppression, Relaxation of the Parts; and others without Number, that want a Name, besides Those of the Soul; so that a Man is much more able to suffer, than to express his Sufferings. To this must be added, that a Man cannot conti­nue long in Pleasures: All his Delights are a short Blaze; should they last long, they would destroy Themselves, and become painful and insupportable. But his Pains are of a great length, and not con­fin'd to certain Seasons, as Pleasures are. Thus Pain hath a more absolute Dominion over us; its Territories are larger; its Reign more lasting, more general, more uncontroll'd, and, in a Word, more Natural, than that of Pleasure is, or can pos­sibly be.

To these Three Remarks may be added as ma­ny more; as First, Pain and Sorrow is much more common, and comes oftner upon us; Pleasure is hard to be met with, and seldom Returns. Then, Pain comes of its own accord, without any seek­ing or Endeavour of ours to procure it; but Plea­sure never approaches voluntarily; we are fain to court it, to buy it dear, and oftentimes pay more for it than it is worth. Pleasure is never Entire, but hath always some Abatement, some Alloy of Uneasiness, somewhat attending it that we cannot like, and had much rather were otherwise; but Pain and Dissatisfaction are often without any manner of Mixture or Mitigation. And after all this, the worst part of the Bargain, and that which most clearly proves our Misery, is, That Extremity of Pleasure does not affect us so sensi­bly [Page 336]as a very small Degree of Pain or Sickness.^* Humane Nature is more accommodated to the Sense of Evil, than of Good. Perfect Health and Ease makes no manner of Impression; but the least Indisposi­tion makes a very great one.^† The Prick of a Pin, tho' the Skin be searce razed, put the whole Body into Disorder; and yet That whole Body, when in a state of perfect Ease, hath no particular Sensation, or Motion of Joy resulting from it.

6 As if all this were still too little, and neither Real and Substantial Evils,Remem­brance and Anticipa­tion of Evils. nor False, and of our own forming, could complete our Misery; we stretch, and lengthen both the One and the Other of these; give them new Life, and sustain them longer than they could possibly subsist without our cherishing; as if we were perfectly in love with Uneasiness. This we do several ways; as First, by calling to remembrance that which is passed, and forestalling that which is to come. This Method can never fail, because the Two great Privileges our Nature boasts of, are Memory and Foresight; and these Advantages and Prerogatives of our Species, we so pervert, as to render them the Instruments of our Unhappiness.^‖ The Past and the Future both put us upon the Rack; many of our Advantages do us an Injury; Memory calls back our Terrours; and Fore­thought antedates them: No Man bears the present Bur­den, and no more. Now what can express a more importunate desire of Misery, than the not stay­ing till the Calamity comes, but going out to meet, and find, to seek, and to invite it, to hasten [Page 337]its Approaches towards us? This is like the Men that kill themselves for fear of Dying, which is, out of Curiosity, or Weakness, to pull down upon us what we most apprehend. And thus we do not only wait for our greatest Evils, and real Inconve­niences with a foolish Impatience, but oftentimes terrisie and torment our selves with the Expectati­on of Those, which perhaps would never reach us at all. These Persons take great pains to be mi­serable before their Time; nay, to be doubly so, by the sense of the Calamity when upon them, and by long Premeditation at a distance, which is a Thousand times worse than the Calamity it self.^* The Fatigue of Sense is much less in enduring, than the Torture of the Mind in expecting. The real Existence of Misery is, it seems, too short and transitory, and therefore the Mind must give it Birth, and lengthen out its Life, and entertain it self with it before hand.^† He that afflicts himself before he needs, is sure to be afflicted more than he needs. Beasts are secure from such Wretchedness and Fol­ly, and are in this respect much beholding to Na­ture, for not having given them the tormenting Faculties of Wit, and Memory, and Foresight, like ours. Caesar used to say, that the best Death was that which was least thought on. And there is no doubt, but the Pomp and Expectation of Death is frequently more painful and terrible than the Thing it self. It is not here any part of my De­sign to discourage or reflect upon that Premeditati­on, which Philosophy and Religion require of us: For This is the very Tempering that hardens the Soul, and makes it Proof against all Accidents and Assaults; and a Place shall be reserved for recom­mending this particularly. But what I would ex­plode,Book II Ch. 7. 11. [Page 338]is that Apprehension of Evils to come, which is always Poor-spirited, and sometimes Groundless, and ever Fruitless; which troubles, and sullies the Soul with Black Thoughts, deforms its Beauty, disturbs its Quiet, and embitters all its Joy. And sure it is much better to be absolutely surpriz'd, than thus fore-warn'd: Rather than think thus of Future Evils, never think at all. But setting aside this Antedating of Evil; the ve­ry Anxiety, and Care, and perpetual Hankering after Future Contingences of any kind, the Sol­licitude of our Hopes, the Eagerness of our De­sires, the Misgivings of our Fears, are a very great Misery. For besides, that What is future, is equally out of our power with What is past, (and so these Thoughts are vain) we are certain to receive De­triment by that which can do us no service. (For ^* the State of a Mind always in pain for what will hap­pen hereafter, is certainly m [...]st deplorable) It robs us of all sedate Thought; destroys all that comfortable Sense, and quiet Enjoyment we might have of present Advantages; and makes it impossible for Men to sit down easie and satisfy'd under any Dispensations of the kindest and most bountiful Providence to them.

7 Nay, Man stops not here; but, as if he were concern'd to furnish new Matter for that Misery,Uncasie Enquiries. which comes up but too thick of its own accord; he cultivates and encreases it, by a restless Curiosi­ty, and studious Pursuit of fresh Objects, which may create, or cherish his Unhappiness. With what Eagerness and Pleasure does he thrust himself into Business; and how inquisitive and impatient is he to discover That, which, if it would present it self to his View without any Trouble of his, [Page 339]he ought rather to turn away, and hide his Eyes from? And this busie Temper is owing either to a Natural Restlesness, disposing us to be miserable; or from a vain Affectation to be Judicious, and Wise, and always employ'd; that is, in plain En­glish, to make our selves Fools and Wretches: As we needs must be, when our Industry to perplex our selves is so great, that when we have no Business of our own to disquiet us, we go abroad in quest of Troubles, and officiously concern our selves with the Affairs of other People. In a Word, Man is under exceeding great and perpe­tual Agitation of Mind, not only from such Thoughts and Cares as are unnecessary, and turn to no account; but such as are thorny, trouble­some, and injurious to him: The Present gives him Pain; the Past, Regret; the Future, Perplexity; and, by his Behaviour under all this, one would think him afraid of nothing so much, as the not being sufficiently Miserable, after all his Endea­vours to render himself so. And may we not justly use this Exclamation; O wretched Mertals! how many Evils do you continually endure, which might with great ease have been avoided! how many more in­deed are Those of your own, and how few in Comparison, Those of God's and Nature's making! But Thus alas it is! Man delights himself in Misery, and is obstinate in seeking and cleaving to it. He chews the Cud upon each Misfortune, and takes great Pains that none should be forgotten, but renews their Images daily and hourly. Nothing is so frequent, so fami­liar, as Complaints; and where Occasions are but light and trivial, he cherishes and heightens the Re­sentment; calls himself the most unhappy Man in the World, and takes it ill not to be thought so;^* Such Pleasure does he find in indulging his Grief. And [Page 340]sure the being so very ambitious to enhance our Misery, and to get the Character of Those who excel all others in it, is a much greater Misery, than never feeling or knowing our Unhappiness at all.^* And yet this is that querulous Creature Man, that sits with great Eagerness brooding upon his own Mi­series.

8 Thus you see him abundantly Miserable, by Na­ture and by Choice;In the Re­medies of Misery. in Reality and in Imagination; by Constraint, and with Industry and Pleasure. He hath too much of it in despight of all Endeavours to the contrary; and yet his great Fear is, that he should not have Misery enough. He is always in Chase of some fresh Unhappiness, and in pain till he hath overtaken it. But now we will take him in another Prospect, affected with a Sense, and weary of some particular Evil; (for even This does not happen always; and many Miseries are endured without any uneasie Resentments at all) And when his Mind is thus far awakened, let us next observe, how he endeavours to disengage himself, and what Remedies are to be apply'd in order to a Cure. And These are such in truth, as rather fret and an­ger the Sore, than heal it; for by quitting one E­vil, he only exchanges it for another, and often­times for a worse. But still the very Change is pleasing, or at least, it sooths and allays the Pain a little. He fancies one Evil may be cured by an­other; and this Imagination is owing to a vulgar Errour, that seems to have bewitch'd Mankind; which makes them always suspect things that are easie and cheap; and esteem nothing truly valuable and advantageous, but what costs us dear, and is attended with much Labour and Dissiculty. And This again rises higher, (for it is not more strange [Page 341]than true, and nothing can more fully prove, that Man is exceeding miserable) That, let the Evils we lie under, be what they will, some other Evil is necessary, for the expelling and subduing them; and whether the Body or the Mind be the part affected, the Case in this respect is much the same. For the Diseases both of the one and the other, are never to be healed and taken off, but by Tor­ture, and Pain, and great Trouble: Those of the Mind by Penance, Watchings, and Fastings; hard Usage, and course Fare; Confinements and Mor­tifications; which, notwithstanding the Voluntari­ness and Devotion of them, must of necessity be afflicting and pungent; because the whole effect of them would be lost, if we could suppose them in any degree subservient to Ease and Pleasure. Those of the Body require nauseous Medicines, In­cisions, Causticks, and severe Dietings; as They whose Unhappiness it is to be oblig'd to a Course of Physick, know by woful Experience. They are got between the Millstones, (as they say) ground and bruised on one side by the Disease, and on the other by a Regimen as bad as the Disease. Thus Ignorance is cured by long laborious Stu­dy; Poverty by Sweat and Toil; and Care and Trouble are as Natural in all the Provisions for Body and Mind both, as it is for Birds to fly.

9 The several Miseries hitherto insisted on, Miseries of the Mind. are such as the Body suffers in; or, if not peculiar to that alone, yet at least such, as it bears a part in with the Mind; and the highest they go, is only to the meanest of our Faculties, Imagination and Fancy. But Those, which next fall under our Considerati­on, are of the most refined and Spiritual Nature, such as are more truly deserving of that Name; full of Errour, full of Malignity; their Activity greater, their Influence more general, more perni­cious, and more properly our own; and yet at the [Page 342]same time less acknowledged, less perceived by us. And This enhances, nay doubles Man's Misery; that of moderate Evils he hath a quick and ten­der Sense, but those which are greatest, he knows not, feels at not all. Nor can he bear to be infor­med of them. No Body dares mention them to him; none will do the ingrateful good Office of touching this Sore Place; so hardened, so obsti­nate, so lost is he in his Misery. All therefore that can be allow'd us in the Case, is to handle them with all imaginable Gentleness, and just Glance upon them by the by; or rather indeed, to point them out at a distance, and give him some little Hints to exercise his own Thoughts up­on, since of his own accord he is by no means disposed to take any notice of them. And First, In respect of the Understanding; The Under­standing. Is it not a most prodigions, and most lamentable Consideration, that Humane Nature should be so universally taint­ed with Errour and [...]indness? Most Vulgar Opini­ons (and commonly the more general, in a more eminent manner) are erroneous and false; not ex­empting even those that are received with the great­est Reverence and Applause. Nor are these so Sa­cred [...]otion-False only; but, which is worse, very many of them Mischievous to Humane Society, and the Publick Good. And tho' some Wise Men (and they alas! but very few) think more correct­ly of these Matters, than the generality of the World, and have a truer Notion of them; yet even These Men sometimes suffer themselves to be carry'd down with the Stream; if not always, and in eve­ry Point, yet now and then, and upon some Oc­casions. A Man must be very firm and well fixed, to stem the Tide; very hardy, and of a sound Constitution, whom an Infection so epidemical cannot falsten upon. For indeed, Opinions that have got Footing everywhere, and are entertain'd [Page 343]with general Applause, such as searce any Body dares to contradict, are like a sweeping Flood, that bears down all before it.

To instance in all the foolish Opinions, with which the generality of Mankind are intoxicated, were much too tedious an Undertaking. But some few shall be just mention'd here, and reserved to their proper places, for a more full Enlargement upon them; and such are These that follow.

1. The forming a Judgment of Counsels and Designs, and pronouncing them Prudent,See Book III. Chap. 1. and Sea­sonable, and Good; or the direct Contrary; ac­cording as they succeed Well or III. Whereas the Issues of all these things are in no degree at our own disposal, but depend entirely upon a Higher Hand; One, who, as his own Infinite Wisdom sees fit, prospers the most unlikely Methods, and de­feats the Wisest Measures, and most promising Attempts.

2. The Condemning, and utterly exploding all foreign and strange Things, Manners, Opinions, Laws, See Book II. Chap. 8. Customs, Observances, and looking upon them as bar­barous and Wicked, without ever examining into the Matter, or knowing of what Nature and Con­sequence they are: And all this, for no other rea­son, [Page 344]but that they are New to Us, and practised only in remote Countreys, and different from the Vogue and Usage of our own. As if We were the common Standard for all the World to take Measures by; and nothing could possibly be com­mendable or convenient, but what hath been re­ceived, and is in request, in that little Spot of Ground, where our particular Lot hath fallen.

3. Somewhat distant from This,See Book II. Chap. 10. is the esteeming and extolling Things, because they are New, or Scarce, or Strange, or Difficult; which are the Four powerful Charms, that attract, and get so absolute Ascendent over Vulgar Souls: And very often it happens, that the Things prized highly upon these Accounts, are mere Vanities and Trifles, and have neither intrinsick Goodness, nor Usefulness, nor any other Consideration to recommend them. For what can be more justly despicable, than That Prince, who is said to value himself extremely, upon an Art he had, of standing at a distance, and throwing Grains of Millet through the Eye of a Needle?

4. All those superstitious Opinions, and unac­countable Whimsies, which debase and enslave the Minds of Children, and Women, and all the weak and ignorant part of Mankind.

5. The esteeming Men more or less,Ibid. according to their worldly Advantages; and proportioning not our Respects only, but our Opinions too, to their Riches, Honours, and Preferments; as if the Va­lue of a Horse were to be taken from his Trap­pings; and the Buyer, to know his good Qualities, and adjust his Price, should look no farther than the guittering [...]idle and embroidered Saddle.

6. The rating Things not according to their Real, Natural, and Intrinsick Worth, which oftentimes is conceal'd; but according to the Outward Face [Page 345]and Shew; the Pomp and Figure, the Noise they make, and the Reputation they have in the World.

7. The thinking, that a Man is sufficiently reven­ged of his Enemy, when he kills him; whereas This is to put him under Shelter, and out of the Reach of all manner of Evil, and to expose one's own self to it. Tis to take away from him all power of Feeling, or being hurt by the Revenge we intend; and that very Act, which designs him the greatest Mischief, sets him at perfect Ease. This is a Folly that may be reduc'd to the former Head of Weakness, and is a Branch of That, as well as of Misery.

8. The reckoning it a most insupportable Injury and Unhappiness, and that a Man becomes an Object of Contempt, for being a Cuckold. For how can we possibly wrong our Judgment more, than by thinking meanly of a Man, and that he is justly ridiculous and despicable, for the Fault of another; which he is so far from having any hand in, that tis plain he never approved it? The Case is much the same in our having a worse Opinion of any Man, for being a Bastard.

9. The disesteeming what is present, and our own, and such as we are in secure and peaceable possession of; and being infinitely fond of the ve­ry same Things when we have them not, and merely because they belong to some Body else. As if Presence and Possession abated the real Worth of a Thing; and the not having it were a Recommendation sufficient to raise the Price of it in our Accounts.

Hence came the Proverb of No Prophet being receiv'd with Honour in his own Country. Thus to lower the Value of any thing, there needs no more than to be the Owner and Enjoyer of it: Thus Husbands look upon their own Wives, and Fathers upon their Children, with Indifference and Disdain. If you would put an End to your Love, (say the Men of the Town) Marry your Mistress, and the Business is done effectually. Thus every Other Man's Servant is bet­ter, His Horse fleeter, His House more convenient than our Own. Tis pretty odd, I confess, to pre­fer things purely imaginary, before Those that are real and substantial; and yet this is the Case of that unreasonable Valuation we put upon things that are absent, and at a distance, and other Peo­ples; upon things Before we have them, and After we have lost them. The Reason of so unequal a Proceeding in these two Cases last mention'd, seems to be This; That the Value we set upon things Before we have them, is not proportion'd to their real intrinsick Worth, but to the false Idea's our own Imaginations form, or the vain Boasts other People make of them; Both which are always big­ger and more beautiful than the Life: But Posses­sion and Experience discover the Truth, and then we learn to rate them after the Excellence they actually have, and the Benefit that can be made out of them. Again; The things we have lost are lookt upon with Melancholy, and much Regret, because then we consider them entire, and in the [Page 347]Gross, whereas the Use and Enjoyment we had of them was not so, but by Piece-meals, and by little at a time. In which Men are commonly much more unkind to Themselves, than they need to be: For they defer their own Happiness, reserve it for a farther Day, and always promise themselves Time and Opportunities enough for enjoying it hereaf­ter; so that even what they have, they are so stingy in the use of, that they are scarce sensible of what they possess; and it is in a manner all one as if they had it not. And This seems to be the true account, why the Passion and Concern for our Losses and our Wants, is more vehement and visi­ble, than the Pleasures and Satisfactions taken in what we possess. And in this no doubt we must allow a great Mixture of Weakness as well as Mise­ry. We are not sufficient for full and perfect En­joyment, and only capable of Desiring intensely and in perfection. There is indeed a vicious Tem­per of the Mind, directly opposite to That I have been speaking of; which is, That Degree of Self-sufficiency and Satisfaction, that whatever We are, or have, appears to us incomparably better than all the World besides. We can be pleas'd, nay, we can be in common Charity with nothing but our Own; and whatever is so, nothing can be superior, nothing equal, nothing like or comparable to it. I dare not say this Quality argues Men any Wiser than the other; but all the World, I believe, will admit, that it makes them Easier, and contributes much more to their Happiness and Content.

10. The shewing one's self forward and zealous upon all occasions, to resent things warmly, and engage in Disputes with Peremptoriness and Passion, as often as there is any fair and plausible Pretence given, of appearing to be a Man affectionately con­cern'd for Justice, or Religion; for promoting the Publick Good, or gaining the Love of the People. ‘[Page 348]For as these are Things which ought to be very precious, and no good Man must neglect them in their Seasons; so it requires Discretion to choose those Seasons, and to manage and temper an ho­nest Zeal. Every Man that is well-disposed, is not qualified for the Undertaking; and every Time and Company is not fit for Him that is qua­lified, to undertake it in.’

11. The putting on excessive Melancholy,Chap XXXIII or suffering our selves to be really afflicted, and mourn to a great degree, upon the Death of a Friend, or any other Calamity that befals him: And to ima­gine, that a Moderate degree of Passion upon such Occasions, argues want of Affection and sin­cere Friendship. This is not only Misery, but an exceeding Vanity too, and as common as it is vain.

12. The bearing a very great regard to those Actions, which require a great deal of bustle and stir in the doing, and make a Noise in the World; and to slight and undervalue all that are done in a still, sedate, and obscure manner: As if no Ef­fects could ever follow upon such a dull, heavy way of proceeding; but all Men were asleep, and did nothing, that do it not with Hurry and Clutter. In short; All those vain Preferences, which Men give to Art above Nature, are like­wise of this kind; for One of These, works with Labour and Observation; the Other easily, quiet, and unseen. And thus whatever is swell'd, and blown up by Industry and Invention; that which cracks about our Ears, and strikes strongly upon our Senses, (and all this is Artificial) we respect and value highly; infinitely above That which is mild, and gentle, and simple, and uniform, and common; for such are the Products of Nature. The former of These awakens us into Attenti­on; the latter advances silently, and leaves, or lays us asleep.

[Page 349] 13. The putting unfair and perverse Inter­pretations upon the good Actions of Others; and when the Thing is well in it self, attributing it to base, or trifling, or wicked Causes or Occasions. So did They, whom Plutarch is angry with, for pretending, that the Death of Cato the Younger proceeded from no other Principle, than his Fear of Caesar; And some Others yet more senselesly, charg'd it upon Ambition. This is a most infalli­ble Symptom of a sick Judgment; a Disease that proceeds, either from Wickedness at home, and a general Corruption of the Will and Manners, di­sposing Men to pervert every Thing to the worst Sense; or else from Uneasiness and Envy against Persons that are better than Themselves; or else from a Mis-giving Quality within, which redu­ces all their Belief to the Compass and Size of their own Abilities; so measuring others by their own Standard; believing Every one as bad as they know Themselves to be; and absolutely incapable of doing things better, or proposing nobler Ends in their Actions, than their own usually are. Or perhaps, as probable an Account of this as any of the former, may be a Natural Weakness and Lit­tleness of Soul, which, like tender Eyes, cannot bear to look at so strong and clear a Light, as that which Virtue sheds, when Pure, and in its native Beauties. Nor is it amiss here to take no­tice of a Practice exceeding common; which is, Men's affecting to shew the Nicety of their Judg­ment, and the Smartness of their Wit, in finding Faults, suppressing, extenuating, disguising Cir­cumstances, setting Things in their worst Light, and eclipsing the Glory of the bravest Actions. In all which, one would wonder they should suppose any thing worth valuing themselves up­on; since it is manifest, all Dexterity of this kind is a much greater Demonstration of their [Page 350]Ill-Nature, than it can be of their Parts; and as it is the Vilest and most Disingenuous, so is it the Easiest and most Vulgar way of Wit, in the World.

14. Another, which seems to be a very con­vincing Testimony of the Misery of Humane Minds, (tho' somewhat more nice, and out of the way of common Observation) is, That the Soul in its calm, and sound, and composed Estate, can rise no higher than the perception of those Objects, and the performance of such Operations, as are Common, and Natural, and of a moderate Size: But in order to the raising it up to such as are Divine and Supernatural, such as admit Men into the Secrets of Heaven, it is distemper'd, and vio­lently agitated; either by vehement Impulses, Ex­tasies, and Enthusiasms; or by Trances and deep Sleeps. This I gather, not only from the Tripods and Oracles of the Heathen Pythia, but from the au­thentick Accounts given us of Revelations, and the extraordinary Manifestations God was pleased to make of Himself to Prophets, and Holy Men in Scripture: Such as Abraham, and Ezekiel, and Da­niel, and others in the Old Testament; and St. Pe­ter, and St. Paul in the New. All which Instances seem to argue, that the only Natural ways of attaining to these extraordinary Communications, are by Transport and Sleep, by Visions and Dreams. So that our Mind, it seems, is never so Wise, as when it is out of its Senses; nor e­ver so truly Awake, as in Sleep. It arrives best at its Journey's End, by leaving the Common Road; and takes the Noblest and most successful Flights, when its own Faculties appear most depressed; as if it were necessary to Lose it self for the Finding somewhat better and more lof­ty; and to be Miserable in order to its being [Page 351]Happy. ‘This seems most Natural,Advert. because we are assured it was most usual; not that there was an impossibility of other Methods, but that these were best adapted to Humane Infirmities. And therefore it is worth observing upon this Occasion, what Truth Himself mentions, as a Prerogative, by which Moses was distinguished from other Prophets: In that God talked with him Face to Face, as a Man talketh to his Friend; Deut. xii. that is, Easily and Familiarly, without any of those ve­hement Commotions of Body, or extatick Rap­tures of Soul, which the rest of Mankind us'd to feel upon such Occasions. And this proves, both that the Other Method was so ordinary as to justifie our Author's Observation; and yet that there was no utter Incapacity for this freer way, in Humane Nature, (which deserved this additional Remark upon it); for God, who is absolute Master of Nature, can reveal himself in what manner he sees sit.’

15. Lastly, Can any greater Desect or Misery be imagin'd incident to the Minds of Men, than the Neglect and Disesteem of their best and most useful Faculty? And yet This is almost every one's Case, while we extol Memory and Imagination, and are fond of excelling in These, but let the Judg­ment lie idle and unimprov'd; no Care taken to employ it, nor any account at all made of it. Do but look abroad a little, and you will soon be convinced of what I say. For what are all the neat Harangues, the learned Treatises, the quaint Discourses, the celebrated Sermons and Books, with which the World is so mightily taken; What, in a Word, are all the Productions of this fruitful Age, (the Works of some few Great Men only excepted) but common Places and Quotations, tack'd and sil'd up together; a Collection of other Men's Labours put into a new Method, with some [Page 352]few Strokes and Illustrations, and so naturaliz'd, and made all our Own? And what can we make of this, but a work of Memory; the Excellency of a School-Boy, and That which requires very little Brains or Trouble, as to all that part which we pick up from Authors, and find ready cut to our Hands; And the Work of Imagination, for those little Graces and Garnitures, which make up the much less part, added by our Selves? This oftentimes is mere Vanity; no one Stroke of a Ju­dicious Man, no one eminently Good Quality di­scernible in it; and accordingly the Authors themselves, under whose Names good Things are published, are often known to be Persons of weak Parts, and very indifferent Judgment; loose in their Principles, and debauch'd in their Morals. And how much better than all this is it, to hear a good honest Farmer, or a common Shopkeeper, talking in their own Gibberish, plain downright Truths, in a dry rough way, without Trick or Dress to adorn and set them off; and giving good useful Advice, which is the Natural Pro­duct of sound Sense, and an unsophisticated Judgment?

10 Thus much for our Understanding. The Will. The Will is in no degree inferiour in Misery, but hath at least as many Sources; and the Instances of it are more deplorable, than any under the former Head. These are indeed innumerable; some few of them are such as follow.

• 1. The being more desirous to be thought Virtuous and Good, than really to be so; and when one does good Actions, doing them more for the sake of O­thers, than our Own; making Reputation a more powerful Motive and Principle of Virtue, than Conscience; coveting and taking greater Satisfacti­on in the Commendation and Applause of the [Page 353]World, than in the secret Consciousness and Com­fort of having done our Duty.
• 2. The being much more forward and eager to revenge an Injury or Affront, than to acknowledge a Favour, and return a Kindness. Insomuch that to own an Obligation is a perfect Trouble, and Mortification, a lessening one's self; but the taking Satisfaction reputed a Pleasure, a Pride, an Ad­vantage. And what can be a greater Reproach to our Nature, what more betray the Baseness and Malignity of it, than the verifying that Observa­tion;^* Thanks are a Toil and a Burden; but a Reta­liation of Injuries is esteemed an Addition and a Gain?
• 3. The being more violent and fierce in the Passion of Hatred, than in That of [...]ve; more disposed to, more vehement in Detraction and Calumnies, than in our Commendations and good Characters of Men and Actions; to seed upon Evil rather than Good; and entertain ill Re­ports, and an odious Representation of our Neigh­bour, with more sensible Relish than his Praises; To enlarge more willingly upon These, allow them a greater Share in our Conversation, to employ one's Wit, and Arts of Expression upon this Sub­ject rather than the Contrary. As the generality of Historians, Orators, and Poets do, who are cold and flat in relating Men's Virtues, but sharp and poignant, eloquent and moving in the Descripti­on of their Vices: And thus we find, that the Ex­pressions, and Figures of Rhetorick, which serve to expose and blacken Men and Things, are mighty different, much more full and copious, more em­phatical and significative, than Those which are em­ployed in Recommendation and Praise.
• [Page 354]4. The declining Evil,
  Book II. Chap. 3.
  and addicting one's Self to Good, upon false and improper Ends; when This is not the result of Virtuous Motions and In­clinations from within, nor the Dictate of Natu­ral Reason, nor the Love of Virtue, nor the Sense of Duty; but some Consideration altogether fo­reign, and wide of the Matter. Some mean and sordid Prospect of Gain and Interest; the Itch of Vain-glory, the Hope of Advancement, the Fear of Reproach, Complyance with Custom, Obsequi­ousness to the Company; and, in a Word, the not doing Good for the sake of doing it, and because it becomes us, and binds our Conscience; but upon some occasional Motive, and external Circumstance, that happen'd to fall in with us at that time. And at this rate, the greatest part of Mankind are only good by Chance. Which gives the true Reason of their being so extremely various, and unequal, and sickle, and inconsistent with Them­selves; for so must all things needs be, that are govern'd by Impulse and Accident; and nothing but true and well-weigh'd Principles, grounded up­on Duty and Reason, can produce a steddy, con­stand, and uniform Virtue.
• 5. The lessening our Affection for the Persons we have wronged, and that for no other Reason, but merely because we have done them an Inju­ry. Is not this very odd? What account can be given of it? We cannot pretend that this Coldness always proceeds from Apprehensions of Revenge; for perhaps the injur'd Party hath no such Thought, and is as kindly disposed to Us, as ever: But the Reason seems to be, that the very Sight and Re­membrance of him accuses Us to our Selves, and our Conscience takes these Occasions to fly in our Faces, and reproach our Baseness and Indiscretion. So that if the Person offending does not abate of his Kindness, this is a good Argument that he did not [Page 355]offend wilfully, and is not conscious to himself of any thing that can give him a just Dissatisfacti­on at his own Proceedings. For, commonly speak­king, Every one that offends knowingly, and with a malicious Design, changes in his Affection after­wards, and either turns an Enemy, or at least ve­ry cold and indifferent; according to that usual Proverb,^* He that does the Wrong, never forgives.
• 6. And Observation not much unlike the former, may be made, concerning Persons who have high­ly oblig'd us: The Sight of such is often an Un­easiness; it upbraids us with a Debt, and awakens ungrateful Remembrances of our Want, either of Disposition, or of Power to require Then. Nay, some­times Men are so abominably wicked, as even to rejoyce at the Death of a Benefactor, because it eases them of this sort of Pain, according to the Remark of an Old Author; Some the more they have been obliged, the worse they hate: A small Debt makes a Man your Friend, but a great one will be sure to make him your Enemy.
• 7. The taking Delight in Mischief; being glad at the Pains, and Dangers, and Difficulties of o­ther People; and conceiving a secret Indignation and Displeasure at their Prosperity and Promotion. Nor do I mean here any such Envy or Uneasi­ness as proceeds from Passion and particular Re­sentment; for this is chargeable upon the Vices of single Persons only. But the Thing I aim at is the common Temper, and natural Condition of Mankind in general, which, without any Pique, or Spleen, or Provocation, disposes even Good Men^† to receive a sort of Satisfaction from the Risques of Men in Seas and Storms; to be an­gry [Page 356]at any Preference of our Friends before Us, either in point of Merit or Fortune; to laugh at any little Misfortune that happens to them *; All this argues the Seeds of Ill-Nature to be thick sown, and to have taken deep Root in us.

11 In a Word; To give you a true Representation of the greatness of our Misery, [...] of Spiritu­al Miscries. I only add, That the World abounds with Three sorts of Men, which out-do all the rest, both in Number and Reputation; and those are The Superstitious, The Formal, and The Pedantick; These, tho' they are concern'd in different Matters, move by diffe­rent Springs, and act upon different Stages, (for the Three principal Topicks are Religion, Common Conversation, and Learning; and each of These is the Field appropriated to each of these Persons; Re­ligion [Page 357]to the Superstitious; Common Conversation, and the Dealings of Humane Life, to the Formal; and Learning to the Pedants) But These, I say, tho' engag'd in Matters so distant, are yet all cast in the same Mould, and agree in their general Qua­lities and Characters; That they are all weak and mean Souls, extremely defective either in Natu­ral or Acquir'd Abilities, incapable or ignorant; Men of dangerous Opinions, sick Judgments, nay sick of a Disease that scarce ever admits of a Recovery. For all the Pains and Trouble you give your self to instruct these Men better, is but so much Time and Labour lost upon them: They are so much in the Wrong, and so highly con­ceited that none who differ from them can be in the Right, that no good is ever to be done. If you will take Their Judgments, none are compa­rable to themselves for Virtue or for Wisdom. Ob­stinacy and Self-sufficiency, which every where hath too great an Ascendent, reigns Absolute here, and is in its proper Kingdom. Whoever hath once drunk in the Infection of these Evils, there are little or no Hopes left of ever making him a sound Man again. For what is there more ex­quisitely foolish, what more stiff and inflexible than these Fellows? They are secur'd by a double Bar­rier from the Conquests of Reason and Persuasi­on; First, by their Weakness, and Natural Incapa­city, which disables them from seeing the Strength of Arguments and Reproofs; and then, by a false Confidence in their own Excellencies above the rest of the World, which makes them despise all Others, as their Inferiours, unable to advise, and unfit to reform Those, who are already so much wi­ser and better than They.

As for the Superstitious, The Super­stitious. See Book II. Chap. 5. they are highly Injuri­ous to God, and dangerous Enemies to True Re­ligion. They disguise themselves with a Mask of [Page 358]Piety, and Zeal, and Reverence, and Love for God; and this Jest they carry so far, as to teaze and torment themselves with Austerities and Suf­ferings, that were never requir'd at their Hands. And what is to be done with such infatuated Wretches as These, who imagine that those volun­tary Afflictions are highly meritorious; that the Almighty is indebated to them, and much oblig'd by Works which he never commanded; and that all the rest ought to be released in consideration of These? Tell them, they take things by the wrong Handle; that they stretch, and pervert, and mis­understand the Scriptures, and lay Burdens upon themselves, more and heavier than God ever laid. Their Answer is, that They intend well; (and that Intention they doubt not will Save them) that what they do is from a Principle of Piety and De­votion, and cannot want Merit and Acceptance upon that Account. Besides, there is something of Interest in all this, which you can never prevail with them to part with; for what Gain is to be proposed in Prospect, what Satisfaction to be re­ceiv'd in Present, which can make them amends for the mighty Expectations and Raptures of that fond Notion, that by this means God becomes Their Debtor, and they merit at His Hands?

The Formalists are a sort of People entirely devo­ted of Form,Formalists. and Shew, and Outside; and These think themselves at liberty to indulge their Passi­ons, and gratifie any, though never so unlawful, Desires, without Check and Controul, provided they do not offend against the Letter of the Law, nor omit any of those external Observances, which are required in their Behaviour, and lookt upon as the Rules of Living. Here you shall see an old griping Jew, that hath brought God knows how many Families to Beggery and Ruine; but he hath done no hurt in all this: For he never asked for [Page 359]more than his Own, at least what he thought so; and if upon these Demands, Arrests, and Suits, and Prisons have ensu'd, yet he only suffer'd the Law to take its Course; and who can blame this honest Man for coming by his Right in the way of Justice? But O Good God! how many good things are neglected, and how many wicked and barbarous things done, under the pretence of Forms, and the Protection of the Laws! Nothing can be truer, than that Extremity of Right is Extremity of Wrong. He that makes This the Rule of all his Proceedings, and allows himself to take the Ad­vantage of the Law upon every occasion, is so far from an honest Man, that he is one of the most dan­gerous Knaves. Such Reason was there for that Say­ing us'd to this purpose, God deliver us from the Formalists.

By Pedants, I mean a sort of prating Fellows, who first tumble over Books with great Pains and Study, and afterwards let fly in all Companies, and vend all they have pick'd up in their Reading, with as much Impertinence and Ostentation; and all this too, to turn a Penny, and promote their In­terest, or their Credit by it. There are not in the World a Pack of more little Mercenary Wretches, more unfit for Business, and yet at the same time more forward, and presuming, and conceited of Themselves. Hence perhaps it is, that in all Coun­tries, and all Languages, Pedant and Scholar are Terms of Ridicule and Reproach. To do a thing aukwardly, is to do it like a Scholar. To behave one's self like a Clown, and be ignorant of the World, is to be a mere Scholar. Such Scholars I mean as These I am now treating of; for these Reflections do not concern Learned Men in ge­neral, but such superficial Pretenders to it, as are only walking and living Nomenclatures; that have a Memory stuff'd full of Other Men's Know­ledge, [Page 360]but none at all of their Own. Their Judg­ment, their Will, and their Consciences are not one whit improved by it; They are never the wiser, nor more prudent; never the more dex­trous in Business, nor the more honest and virtuous, for all the Schemes and Institutions they have run thro'. They can repeat These, but they have not digested them; are Masiers of the Speculative part, but know nothing of the Application and Practice. So that all the fruit of their study is but to make them the more acquired, more egregious Fools; more full of Themselves, and more noisie and insupportable in all Companies. They swell their Memory, but sink their Wit, and adulterate their Understandings. And in such Persons as These, That Misery is most conspicuous, [...] Parag. 9. [...]. which we lately placed the last of that sort, with which the Intellectual Faculty of the Mind seems princi­pally affected.

CHAP. XL. V. Presumption.

1 WE are now come to the last, and most hide­ous Line of the whole Picture; which makes up the other Branch of Pliny's Description; For this is indeed the Deformity of our Nature, the Bane of our Minds, the Source of the worst and most erroneous Opinions, both Publick and Private; and yet, as bad as it is, 'tis a Vice na­tural to, and born with every Man. Now we shall do well to consider this Presumption in its seve­ral Respects, above, below, upon the level, within, and without us. As the Object is God, and the [Page 361]Celestial Bodies, Terrestrial Bodies, and Beasts; Man our Equal, and our own Selves: And the whole Matter will turn at last upon these Two Points, The setting too high an Estimate upon our Own, and too low upon Other Things; Every Man in this Sense deserving the Character given by our Blessed Saviour, of the Pharisees, They trusted in Them­selves, and despised Others. A Word or two now up­on each of the fore-mentioned Particulars.

2 And First, with regard to Almighty God, (it is a horrible and melancholy Truth,Presumpti­on in re­spect of God. but true it is, that) all Superstition and false Worship, the affected Excesses, and the Wilful Defects in our Religious Services, are entirely owing to the want of a sufficient Esteem and Reverence for God; the not being sensible what sort of Being He is, and entertaining such Opinions and Idea's of the Divine Nature, as are not sufficiently lofty, and pure, and refined. Now by saying sufficiently so, I would not be understood, that our Apprehensions should bear any proportion to the Essential Great­ness of his Majesty; for God is Infinite, and ad­mits of no proportion at all. Consequently there is no possibility in Nature, that our Conceptions should ever soar up to such a height and sufficiency as This; And therefore I mean that sufficiency only to be wanting, which Nature hath made us capa­ble of, and Duty requires from us. We do not raise nor direct our Minds, nor dart our Thoughts strong, or high enough, when we form Notions of the Divinity: Alas! why do I say, not high and strong enough? when it is but too evident, and our Actions speak it out, that we entertain very feeble, and mean, and low Apprehensions of him. And we serve him indeed accordingly; we offer him Things most unworthy of him, and deal with him more basely and disrespectfully, than we pre­tend, or dare, to do, with several of his Creatures. [Page 362]We discourse, not of his Works only, (which yet command some Regard because they are His) but we talk of his Essence and Majesty, determine his Will, interpret his Judgments, pass Sentence upon the Dispensations of his Providence, and all this more peremptorily, more sawcily, than any Man of good Manners would take upon him to do, with the Counsels and Proceedings of his Prince. And yet every one thinks he may make bold with his God in Cases, where to use the same Freedoms with any Person of Honour, would be condemn­ed for insufferable Rudeness and Contempt. A great many Men would reject such Service and Homage, and think themselves highly injured and affronted, if we should talk so manly of them, and make use of their Name upon such trifling Occasions, and in so contemptuous a manner as we do that of God. We undertake to manage him, go about to flatter and caress, to bend and bring him over, to bribe and to compound with him; nay, I might tremble to say it, some think even to brave and dare him, to snarle and grum­ble, to take things ill, and be exceeding angry at him. Caesar had his Pilot hoist Sails boldly, and fear nothing tho' Winds and Seas, and Stars and Fate were against him, but buoy himself up with this Confidence, in opposition to all Difficulties, That He who had Caesar aboard, could not miscarry. Augustus, after having been Tempest-beaten at Sea, took upon him, to set Neptune at Definance, and by way of Revenge, ordered his Image to be taken away from among the rest of the Gods, and ex­cluded the solemn Procession at the Ludi Circenses. Xerxes scourged the Seas, and sent a Challenge to Mount Athos. The Thracians, when it Thunders and Lightens, shoot Arrows up against Heaven, with all their Might, that by this means they may bring the Gods to Reason. And there goes a [Page 363]Story of a certain Christian King, in a neighbour­ing Country, whom when God had severely cha­stized, he swore he would be revenged on him; and to make his Words good, commanded, That for Ten Years next ensuing, no Person within his Domini­ons should dare to put up any Prayers to God, or make men­tion of his Name any other way.

But not to insist longer upon such prodigious Ex­travagances, Does not the general Temper and Practice of Mankind justifie that Character given by Pliny; That no Creature is more miserable, and yet none more proud than Man? For, on the one hand, he forms to himself vast Conceits of the particular Love, and Regard, and tender Care God hath for him; thinks himself the chief, the only Fa­vourite of Heaven; and yet this Darling serves him after a most unbecoming manner, and worse than the poorest and most despicable of all his Creatures. How then shall we reconcile these Extremes? How can a Life so wretched, a Homage so poor and base, meet and dwell together in same Person, with such glorious Notions of Himself, and a Pre­ference so vastly great above all the Creation be­sides? [Page 364]Is not This to be an Angel and a Swine at once? And indeed Men, who entertain these Opi­nions, and dishonour God, by living in a Disagree­ment with them (as the generality of Mankind do) must be content to bear the Reproach of a great Philosopher to some Vicious and Hypocritical Chri­stians; That they were the bravest Fellows in the World at talking, but the pitifullest and most contemptible Wretches in their Lives and Actions.

3 We are apt to think our Selves of Moment, and great Consequence to God, Nature. to the World, and to Na­ture in general. That all These are in great Pain and Anxiety upon our Account; That They only watch for our Safety and Preservation; and This makes us look upon Calamitous Accidents with Sur­prise; but especially, to be perfectly astonish'd at Death, as if it were a most strange Thing how That should break in upon us, notwithstanding so many Guards that keep Centry about our Per­sons, and are all (as we imagine) concern'd to se­cure us from it. For this, among other Reasons, few People ever persuade themselves, that any Hour is their last; but almost every Body, suffers him­self to be cheated with false Hopes, at the very Instant of expiring. And what is all This but Pre­sumption? We think our selves too significant; and fondly fancy, that this whole Universe must bear a part in our Death; that some great and general Revolution will happen upon it; that all things decay in proportion with our own Bodies, and fail one another in the same Degrees They fail Us; That there is no avoiding it, but They must all undergo the same fatal Shock, the same Dissolution that We do. And in this Universal Delusion, Man­kind live, like People upon the Water, who, when their own Vessel moves, seem to draw Houses, and Towns, and Heaven, and Earth along with them. No Body considers that he is single, and [Page 365]but One; a very small and inconsiderable Part of the Creation: One out of many Millions, whom few have any Interest in, and perhaps fewer yet are the worse for losing; and the Matter is so far from every Body's going along with him, that scarce any Body will so much as miss him when he is gone; no more than a Grain of Sand diminishes the Sea-shore, or the falling of a Star, changes the Face of the Sky.

4 Then again; Man pleases himself, that the Hea­ven, the Stars, and all that Glorious Movement over our Heads, and indeed the whole Frame and Order of this Material World, was thus created and constituted merely for his Sake: As if that De­scription of the Heathen were his due, That^* so many Gods were perpetually Ambitious, and contending about his single Person. And this is a very extrava­gant Imagination indeed. He is lodged here in the last and lowest Story of the World, at a great di­stance from the Aetherial Roof; a place, that in comparison of the purer Regions above us, may be call'd the Sink of the World, where all the Lees and Dregs settle, with Creatures of the meanest Condition, and liable to receive all those Evacua­tions of Rain and Vapours, which fall down upon his Head; nay, from These he receives his very Subsistence; he lies open to Accidents, that beset and oppress him on every Side; and yet this poor Wretch looks upon himself as the Master and Com­mander in Chief of the Universe. 'Tis true in­deed, Almighty God hath given him a Dominion over some of his Fellow Creatures; and it is like­wise true, that the rest over which he hath not the same Dominion, are contriv'd for his Mighty Benefit and Covenience; but it will not follow [Page 366]from hence, that the whole Creation had no o­ther End than his Service; nor that those vast Globes of Light, and so many Pure Incorrupti­ble Bodies, whose least Virtue is not distinctly known, and which he must be content to gaze at with Wonder and Astonishment, were fram'd and are continued in this Regularity and Perpetuity of Motion, for Man only. From hence, it is confest, this Indigent Wretch derives his Food, his Main­tenance, and unspeakable Conveniences; The Rays, the Beauty, the Heat of the Sun, The Rain, and Dew, and other Distillations from Heaven cherish and sustain him; and This, no doubt, was one In­tent of the bountiful God that made them. But shall we presume to determine from hence, that this was the Sole Intent and Use of them? Shall we call the Heavens and the Elements our Own, and pretend that Their Motions are only so many Tasks for Our Profit? This were, as if the Beg­ger should call himself Proprietor of the Wealth out of which he is reliev'd; and the Benefits in this Case are so general, so far from being con­fin'd to Man alone, that the meanest Fowl of the Air may as well make the same Pretensions; Nay, in some Sense, these Creatures may make them better; For Man, who receives Conveniences, hath some Inconveniences too from the Bodies above him; he hath none of them at his own Disposal, he cannot understand how far their Efficacy will extend; nor make any certain Conclusions, what will be hereafter; and this puts him into perpetual Un­easinesses, and Fears and Amazements, lest these Bodies should not keep their Course, nor shed pro­pitous Influences, but occasion Barren and sickly Seasons, and so every thing should prove Unkind­ly and in Confusion; and under the Weight of these Apprehensions he lies and trembles, for what shall fall upon him from Those very Bodies, of [Page 367]which he vainly thinks himself Lord and Master; Whereas Beasts, as they receive the same Advan­tages of Life and Substance with our Selves, so they receive it without any Disturbance of Mind, or disquieting Presages of the Future; yea, and without any of those discontented Murmurs and Complaints at what is Past too, which restless and ungrateful Man is ever bewailing himself in. I conclude this Observation with that Passage of Seneca; ^* We are not the Proper Cause of the World's enjoying the several Seasons, and their Vici ssitudes; Those Things are order'd by Laws peculiar to themselves, in the observance whereof the Will and Purposes of God are executed. We think too highly of our selves, if we suppose we are of such Worth and Consequence, that such and so many Glorious Motions should be contrived, merely for our sakes; nor is our Correspondence with Heaven so intimate, that all the use of the Stars should be to di­rect, or to declare our Fortunes.

Note. ‘Some Persons, since the Improvement of Astronomy, have given us juster Notions of the Magnitude of these Heavenly Bodies; That seve­ral of them equal, and some very much exceed the Proportion of this Earthly Globe; have en­tertain'd Notions of a Plurality of Worlds, fur­nish'd with Inhabitants, as different from Those we know, as the Regions they inhabit are. A Notion, which I only mention upon this Occa­sion, to hint, that there may be many Uses un­known to us, served by the Heavenly Bodies; And because the Opinion seems to carry no [Page 368]Impiety at all in it, but pretends to consult the Glory of God, by exciting Men to a greater Admiration of his Infinite Power, and Wisdom, and Goodness, exerted in so much a greater Va­riety of Creatures, than what we are or can be acquainted with, I thought it not amiss to in­sert it here; though, as I said, 'tis a Notion on­ly; and what, as we cannot have an absolute Certainty for, so we have none against it. If Reason give any Countenance to this Specu­lation, Revelation no where forbids it. For Mo­ses, who made it his Business to describe the World we inhabit, had no Reason to mention Others, in which we have no Concern; and his not mentioning Them, was agreable to the De­sign of his History; but does not exclude the Reality or Possibility of any such other Systems, as were foreign to his Purpose, and so in no Degree necessary to be taken Notice of. The Reader, if he be desirous of farther Satisfaction in this Point, may please to consult the Eighth of Dr. Bentley's Excellent Sermons against A­theism. p. 4, &c.’

5 As for the Things here below upon the Earth, that is,Animalt. Beasts and all Living Creatures, Man looks upon them with Scorn and Contempt, as if they were of no Consideration at all. Forgetting, that they are form'd by the Hands of the same Almighty Artificer, and are reckoned among the Riches and Possessions of the same Lord; That the same Earth is our Common Mother, and that They and He, are of the same Family; and consequently ought not to be slighted and disdained, as if they were worthy no part of his Concern, nor bore any Relation at all to Him. Hence it is, that these Poor Creatures are so much abused; and treated with an Insolence and Cruelty, that flies back up­on Their and Our Common Master; for it is [Page 369]an Affront, and an Impiety, to deal thus by any Thing of His making, such as he does not only Own, but expresss a Tenderness for; thinks them worthy his own Care, and hath appointed cer­tain Laws for their Benefit and Preservation; such as, tho' inferiour to Us in the most valuable Parts, yet he seems in some Things to have given the Ad­vantage to; nay, such, as in several Instances, shame and reproach our Follies, and are therefore recommended in Scripture, as Masters for Man to be sent to School to. But This hath been already men­tioned in another Chapter.

It is indeed a Doctrine commonly received, that the World was made for Man, and Man for God; which in some Sense is certainly true, and what I have said is no derogation from it. For, besides that In­struction, which all the Creatures in general con­tribute to, whether those, Above or Below us; Those useful Hints and Reflections they minister concerning Almighty God, Our Selves, and Our Duty: Some sort of Use, with regard to Profit, or Serviceableness, or Delight, may be drawn from every one of them in particular. From that Part Above us, which we have a less distinct Knowledge of, and which is not at all in our Disposal; This Firmament so nobly Vaulted, so richly deckt with Light, and all those rolling Fires above us; The Advantage Man receives from Them is That of Contemplation only. His Soul by These is raised and transported to admire and to love, to fear and to honour, and to pay most profound Reverence to the Almighty Master and Maker of so Glorious a Frame. In this respect it was no ill Remark of Anaxagoras, that Man was created to contemplate Hea­ven; and some of the old Philosophers according­ly gave him the Title of [...]. From the Creatures in this lower World, he reaps Advan­tage and Assistance, receives great Supplies, and [Page 370]Service properly so called. But for Men to per­suade themselves, that God in making all these Things, had no other End in his Thoughts and Designs, but purely to consult the Convenience of Mankind; This is too great a Stretch upon the Do­ctrine mentioned just now, and an Arrogance which I think may very deservedly be charged with all that Folly and Presumption I have laid upon it.

6 The Last, but Principal Instance of this Pre­sumption,Man him­self. hath Man for its Object; and this must be consider'd with regard to Himself, or to his Fel­lows; Within, as to the forming of his Judgment and private Opinions; or Without, as those Senti­ments are imparted by conversing with other Peo­ple. And upon this Occasion we will insist upon Three Things, as so many Topicks in close con­nexion and consequence upon one another;There De­grees of Humane Presumpti­on. by which Mankind betray at once their great Weak­ness and great Presumption; and in both, great Folly. The First of these consists in Believing and Disbe­lieving. (I meddle not here with Religion, or Divine Faith, but desire my Reader to recollect what was said in the Preface,) Where Two contra­ry Vices are observable, which are exceeding com­mon in Humane Life.1. Belie­ving and Misbelie­ving. One of These, and the more general of the Two, is Levity and Credulity; that is, a Disposition to receive Things, and be per­suaded too easily, upon the slightest Inducements; so that to gain our Assent, any the least Circum­stance of Probability, or Pretence of Authority is sufficient. This is the effect of Easiness and Sim­plicity in the worst Sense of the Word; a Softness and Weakness of Mind, such as we observe in mean Parts and Education, the Ignorant and Ef­feminate, the Superstitious and Fanciful, Men of great Zeal, and little Judgment, which are all like Wax, always in a readiness to receive any new [Page 371]Impression, and suffer Themselves to be led about by the Ears with every idle Story. Hence it is, that we see the greatest part of the World carry'd about with every blast of Opinion; and possessed with Notions, before either Age or Maturity of Judgment render them capable of choosing; and accordingly These Opinions are not the result of Consideration and Choice, but the Prepossessions of Time and Custom; the Rudiments of their Infancy, the Mode of their Country, or it may be, mere Chance, have taken fast hold of them; so fast, that they are inseparably wedded to, absolutely subdu'd and enslav'd by them; and no Arguments are able to loosen these Prejudices, and set their Minds at liberty from them.^* Some violent Gush of Wind drives them upon an Opinion, and there they cling, as if they were to save themselves from a Sterm, by keep­ing close to that Rock. Thus indeed the World is ma­nag'd; We take Things upon Trust, and depend upon other People.^† Each Man is willing to save himself the trouble of Examining; and had rather believe than judge: A Mistake that hath passed through many Hands successively, turns and tumbles us about at pleasure: And all this from a Custom of assenting too ea­sily, which is exceeding dangerous and unfaithful. Now this Credulity, so common in the World, tho' it be really a very great Instance of Weakness, yet is it not without a large Mixture of Presumption too: For, to receive and stick by Opinions, and main­tain them for certain Truths, without knowing any thing at all of the Matter, this is too much in all Conscience; and therefore some little Enquiry is [Page 372]made into the Causes, and Reasons, and Conse­quences, tho' none at all is made concerning the Truth of the Thing. We commonly ask, What account can be given of This? or What can be the manner of bringing That about? all along ta­king the Mattr of Fact for granted, and that Things really are as they are represented; when there is nothing at all in it. We write Tracts, ma­nage Arguments, engage in Disputes, enquire cu­riously after Causes and Effects of a Thousand Things, which never had any Foundation in Na­ture; and the whole Argument on both sides is false. One contends it is This way, another That way, and in truth it neither is, nor ever was Any way at all. How many Jests and Banters, preten­ded Miracles, sham Visions, and counterfeit Reve­lations, have crafty People imposed upon Ours, and some late Ages of the World? And why should a Man believe such Pretensions to Events, neither Humane nor Natural, when they may be confoun­ded and disproved by Natural and Humane Me­thods; when Reason can say nothing for them, and Revelation is so far from giving them Coun­tenance, that it says a great deal against them? Truth and Falshood have Faces and Teatures alike; Their Mien, their Relish, their Motions resemble one another, and the same Eye judgeth of them both.^* Truth and Falshood (says one) border so close upon [...] another, that [...] wise Man should not trust him­self upon the Brink of them, but move warily, for fear of sliding into the Wrong. No Man ought to be belie­ved concerning Matters above the Power and Un­derstanding of a Man; except he come with Au­thority from above, and bring such Credentials a­long with him, as are supernatural, and exceed the Operations of Humane Strength; and such no Te­stimony [Page 373]can be, but the Divine. But it is to God alone that this Prerogative of right belongs, To be believed in whatever he says, for this single Reason, because He says it.

The other Vice opposite to This, is a Stupid and Obstinate Raslmess, which condemns at all adven­tures, and rejects every thing for false, which Men either do not understand, or are loath to believe; and therefroe will by no means have That true, which Interest or Inclination makes them wish may not be so. This is a Property more especially visi­ble in such as abound in their own Sense, and think Themselves more capable and more judicious than their Neighbours; such as Pedantick Pretenders to Learning, Men addicted to Dispute, and Those that are violent in any Party, whether of Church or State. They fancy some little sharpness in their Wit, and that They see farther into Things than the generality of People do; and This, with a Byass of their own within, makes them forward and sierce; They take upon them to determine every thing with an Air of Authority, and expect, that their Sen­tence should be receiv'd for Law. This Vice is yet worse and greater than the former; for it is the Extremity of Folly and Madness, to think we know the utmost Bounds of Possibilities; the secret Springs and full Extent of Nature; that We can comprehend the Operations of God, and pro­nounce that He is able, and what He will please to do; To measure all Truth and Falshood by our own Capacities and Understanding; and yet This ought to be the Measure of True and False, to ju­stifie the Confidence and the Fierceness, which these sorts of Men express in all their Disputes and Definitions of Things: For this is the Eternal Jar­gon they run you down with, That's Nonsense, That's False, That's Impossible and Absurd. And yet how many Things are there, which for a time have been thought extremely ridiculous, and rejected as impos­sible, [Page 374]and afterwards have brought such Evidence of their Truth, that we have been forced to ac­knowledge and yield to them; nay, and after These have been establish'd, we have by Them been led to the entertaining of Others yet more surprizing and odd than the former? and on the other hand, How many that have been received for Gospel, have in time lost all their Veneration and Credit, and been discovered to be mere Errors and Impo­stures, and idle Fansies?

8 The Second Instance of this kind, which indeed is an usual and a natural Consequence of the for­mer, 2. Ass [...]m­ing and Cond [...]mn­ing. is the being positive and stiff in asserting or denying, approving or condemning, according as we have been led to entertain or reject Opinions, without sufficient Grounds for our Belief or Mi­strust. This differs from the former only in de­gree, excepting that it adds Peremptoriness and Ob­stinacy to it, and so the Presumption is worse and more apparent. That Easiness and Credulity hardens in time, and by degrees degenerates into a Self-Conceit, and Positiveness, which no Arguments can conquer, no Persuasions move or correct. Nay, sometimes the Humour is carry'd on so far, that Men are more eager in asserting what they do not know, than what they do.^* Men persuade themselves more firmly of the things they least understand, and assent with greater readiness to Points dark and mysterious, that they may be thought to comprehend what really they do not, and from a natural eagerness of the Mind, that catches at every thing gree­dily. It is counted a Reflection to be out at any Point that is started; or to yield a Dispute, in which a Man is once engaged; and therefore Men discourse with Resolution and Obstinacy, and great [Page 375]Assurance, and come ready fixed and determined to maintain their Ground at any rate, how little soever they have to offer in defence of it. Now this exceeding Positiveness, and abounding in one's Own Sense, are commonly Signs of Brutality and Ignorance, attended with Arrogance and Folly.

9 The Third, which is a natural product of those Two, and the very Top and Extremity of Pre­sumption, 3. Per­suading. is, The persuading others, recommending and propagating our own Opinion; and This, not in a mild and gentle Method of fair Reasoning; but with Authority, and in a Dogmatical way; to impose it, as if they were oblig'd in Duty to believe us, and ought not to ask Questions, or doubt of any thing we say. Now what insupportable Tyranny and Usurpation is This? He that hath re­ceiv'd an Opinion, reckons it a work of Charity to win others over, and convince as many as he can of it too; and for the better effecting this Cha­ritable Design, he gives it all the Strength and Ad­vantage he can; represents every thing in its best Light, and adds from his own Invention, as much more, as he thinks may be for his Purpose, to make amends for any Defect or Opposition, which he suspects may be met with, from the Apprehension of the Person he proposes the Matter to. And, ge­nerally speaking, there is not any thing for which Men are more tenderly concern'd, than for the put­ting about their Opinions, and gaining as many Proselytes as they can.^* No Man is content to be mi­staken alone, but every one draws in others into the same Errour with himself. Nay, so zealous are Men in this Particular, that where ordinary means of Per­suasion are found insufficient, the Defect is supply'd by Violence and Terrour, Sword, and Fire, and Faggot. [Page 376]This is properly the Vice of Dogmatical and Am­bitious People; such as aim at absolute Dominion, and would sain be governing and prescribing to all the World. And, for the facilitating this Design, and to captivate Men's Understandings, they make use of Two Artifices. The First is, to lay down some general Propositions, which are term'd Funda­mental Principles; and such as must be presupposed and granted on all hands; and from These they tell you, you must be so far from departing, that you are not allow'd so much as to Dispute, or ad­mit the least Doubt, whether they be true or not. Upon These they raise what Superstructure they please, and so bring the World over to their side; which hath been a very successful Cheat, in pro­pagating many gross Errours, and giving Authori­ty to Things absolutely false. And indeed the Fraud lies chiefly in Those Principles, which ought to be Truths Self-evident, and clear to every consider­ing Man; but Some have been advanced for such, which upon strict examination will be found, not only as disputable, but as weak, as false, as any of the Conclusions endeavour'd to be drawn from them; and the Propositions contrary to These, carry at least the same Face of Probability, and have as much to say for themselves.

Some eminent Persons we know of late have ta­ken upon them quite to alter and overthrow the established, [...] and so long uncontested Principles and Rules of the Antients, in Astrology, Physick, Geome­try, and concerning the Nature and Motion of the Winds. Now all the Propositions and Notions of Men are equal to be sure, and ought to have the same Authority with us, excepting only so far as Reason gives one the Advantage above another. Truth does not depend upon the Credit or Testimony of Man; nor are there any Propositions that com­mand an absolute Assent, and whose Authority is [Page 377]uncontestable, but what God hath been pleased to reveal; the rest are mere Vanity and Pretence, that challenge Assent so imperiously from us. Now these Gentlemen require us to take their Word, and swallow All they set before us, without chewing; not any Tryal or Examination is allow'd you, which is the greatest Injustice and Tyranny in the World. God (as was observed before) hath this Right incommunicable to any beside Himself, to command our Assent in all he says, upon this score merely, because he says it. Where, by God's saying it, is included the Message of all those that are sent, and attested by him, and not any immediate Revelation intended, and nothing else; for in op­position to such Messengers, so commissioned and approv'd it is, that our Lord says, He that speaketh of himself is a Lyar.

The Other Method, by which many have been drawn into Errours, is by counterfeiting this Seal from Heaven, pretending some new Miracle, or particular Inspiration, or strange Apparition, or the like; a Trick, which History tells us, hath been often play'd with great Dexterity and Success, by Princes, and Law-givers, and Generals of Armies. The first Persuasion taken from the Party concern'd, soon gets possession of the weaker sort; but this is so nice, so feeble, and so frail, that the least Mi­stake, or Mismanagement would spoil and break all to pieces again: And wonderful it is to reflect, what famous Impressions have been owing to poor and frivolous Beginnings. But when this Impres­sion comes abroad into the World, it grows to a prodigious Bulk, and stretches it self so, by the help of Time and Numbers, as to take in Men of bet­ter Sense, and more discerning Judgments. For it is to no purpose then to kick against a general Be­lief; a Man hath nothing left to do, but to come in, and make One. The strongest Evidence, and [Page 378]most distinguishing Test of Truth, is the number of Believers, and the number of Years that have maintained it: And yet it is certain, that Fools are more than half the World in every Age. But, notwithstanding this disparity, it is a hard matter to fix in an Opinion, contrary to the general Sense of Mankind. The Fallacy however last-mention'd hath been abundantly seen in the many Juggles and Cheats which have astonish'd the Multitude, and been palmed upon them for new Miracles; but by some Accident or other, or by a nicer Observati­on of some more jealous and acute than the rest, the whole Cheat hath been detected and exposed within a very little while; and yet These very Cheats, if they had gather'd Strength, and not been stifled in their Infancy, had done their Busi­ness, and met with Wonder and Adoration every where. These Discoveries however of false Mira­cles, and such as are taken upon Trust, are a greater Confirmation of the True, such as the Faith of Christians is built upon; which have neither want­ed Time to ripen them, nor Curiosity of Enqui­rers to detect them, nor the Malice of Enemies to pervert and overthrow them, nor the Byass of Wicked Inclinations to render Men averse from surrendring themselves up to the Doctrines con­firmed by them. And yet in despite of all These, They did, and do, and will continue to prevail and triumph in the Minds of Men. And well it were, if better Care were taken to examine all Pretensions of this kind very nicely, that so the True might not suffer in their Reputation and Ef­fect, for want of being distinguish'd from the False; and That poor Shift of profane Wretches might be exposed and beaten down, who take shelter in some such Discoveries as have been here mention'd, and, from a Few acknowledged Impostures, and some Others which look suspiciously, and perhaps, if [Page 379]carefully traced up to their first Head, might have been found no better, endeavour to insinuate, that None ever were otherwise. It must be confest, in the mean while, that the Things these Tricks are contriv'd to support, and lead Men into, are a mortifying Consideration; the great Variety of contending Sects and Religions, and the infinite Superstitions still in use among some parts of Christendom, the Ceremonies, and corrupt Customs which are Relicks of Pagan Idolatry, and which there is no bringing the People off from. And now, by this whole Discourse, we see what precious Creatures we are, and what we are like to come to at last, when we blindly follow such blind Leaders.

CHAP. XLI. Of the Differnce and Inequality of Men in general.

THere is not any One thing in all this lower World, wherein so great Variety is observable, as in Mankind; not any general Head or Species of Beings, whose Individuals differ in so many, and so distant Particulars from one another. If Pliny, and Herodotus, and Plutarch may be credited; There are Men in some places, whose Form and Figure bears but very little Resemblance to this of Ours; and several Mongrels and Medleys between the Man and the Beast. Some Countries are inha­bited by Men without any Head, whose Eyes and Mouth are placed in their Breasts; some by Hermaphrodites; some, where they go upon all Four; some, where they have but One Eye, and That in the middle of their Forehead; and a Head shaped [Page 381]more like a Dog, than such as we see Men usually have. Some Places, where the lower part is all Fish, and they live in the Water; where their Women bring Children at Five Years old, and live no longer than Eight; where their Skull and Forehead is so hard, that no Iron can break or enter it, but rebounds back again; where they are transformed into Wolves, and Sheep, and Oxen, and at last return to the Humane Form again; where they have no Mouth, and all the Nourish­ment they are sustained by, is from the Smell of certain Scents. And, to go no farther, This very last Age hath discovered, and many now living have seen and felt Men, that have no Beards at all; that live without the use of Fire, or Corn, or Wine; and Countries, where what We abomi­nate as the most odious Deformity, is lookt upon and valu'd as the most exquisite Beauty; (as hath been hinted before) As for the Diversity of Cu­stoms and Manners, That will be the Business of another Head. What hath been related here may possibly seem incredible; but if it do, our Point will be prov'd without it. For go no farther than our own Knowledge, and what infinite Disserences are there in Faces? insomuch that Two are no where to be found, exactly and in all Particulars alike. 'Tis true, sometimes there happen Mistakes of one Person for another, because of a very great Likeness between them; but then These always happen, when One of the Parties is not by. For when we meet them Both together, the Errour vanishes; and we easily discern a Difference, which serves for a sufficient Mark of Distinction to us, tho' perhaps it is such a one, as we cannot readily tell what to call it.

The Souls of Men are yet more various, and full of distinguishing Characters, than their Bodies; For there is in this respect, not only a greater Dif­ference [Page 382]between Man and Man, than any that can be discover'd between Beast and Beast: But (which is but a bad Business, and not much for our Ho­nour) the distance is more between Some Men and Others, than it seems to be between some Men and Beasts. For one of the most excellent and appre­hensive Animals, seems to make much nearer ap­proaches to the Understanding and Sagacity of Men of the lowest Form; than Those Men to some of the most capable and accomplish'd Persons. Now this mighty Difference between Men proceeds from inward and unseen Causes; from the Mind, which consists of such variety of Parts; and it is brought about by such intricate Springs and Principles of Motion, that the Contemplation of them would be infinite, and the Degrees depending upon them without Number.

Now the Last part of our Undertaking for at­taining to a right Knowledge of Man, must con­sist of the Distinctions and Differences observable in Him: And These are of several sorts, according to the different Parts of which Humane Nature is compounded, and the different Methods and Capa­cities in which Men may be consider'd, and com­par'd with one another. At present we will instance in Five, which seem to be the Principal; and of so large Extent, that all the rest may be reduc'd to them. For, generally speaking, all that is in Man is either Body or Spirit, Natural or Acquired, Pub­lick or Private, Apparent or Secret; and according­ly this Fifth and Last Consideration shall branch it self into Five Particulars, which shall be so many Capital Distinctions between Man and Man.

The First of these is Natural, Essential, and Uni­versal; in which the whole Man, both Body and Mind, are concern'd.

The Second is principally Natural and Essenti­al; but in some measure Artificial and acquir'd [Page 383]too; and this concerns the Strength and Capaci­ty of the Mind.

The Third is Accidental, and depends upon Men's Conditions and their Duties respectively; the Ground of all which is taken from the Circumstance of Superiour or Inferiour.

The Fourth is likewise Accidental, and relates to Men's particular Professions, and different ways of Living.

The Fifth and Last considers them with regard to the Advantages and Disadvantages, by which either Nature or Fortune hath distinguished them.