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 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.Signatum eſt in nos lumen vultûs tui. The Brightneſs of the Divinity ſtrongly reflected upon him. Exemplumque Dei quiſque eſt in Imagine parva. 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 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.

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.

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 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, Sanctius his Animal, &c.— A Creature of a more exalted kind Was wanting yet; Ovid Met. Lib. 1. and then was Man deſign'd: Conſcious of Thought, of more capacious Breaſt.

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 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, For Empire form'd, and fit to rule the reſt, He, while the mute Creation downward bend Their Sight, and to their Earthy Mother tend, Looks up aloft, and with erected Eyes Beholds his own Hereditary Skies. Dryden.

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, —Mixtam fluvialibus undis Finxit in effigiem.— Earth the wiſe Maker temper'd into Paſte, And mix'd with living Streams the God-like Image caſt.

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 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. — —Hunc divino ſemine fecit Ille opifex rerum.— With Particles of Heavenly Fire The God of Nature did his Soul inſpire. And cloſes his Account, Sic modo quae fuerat rudis, & ſine imagine tellus: Induit ignotas hominum converſa figuras. From ſuch rude Principles our Form began, And Earth was metamorphos'd into Man.

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 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.

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 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.

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.

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, 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.

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, 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 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉 . 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.

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 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.

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 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.

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 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; 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.Cor • us animum tegit & detegit: In facie legitur homo. The Bedy (ſays one) both covers and diſcovers the Mind, and you may read the Man in his Face.

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 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.

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, 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.

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 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.

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 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 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 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.

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.

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 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.

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.

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 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.

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 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 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.

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 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.

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 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.

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.

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 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 differently of the Magnitude of the Sun and Stars, and of the Shape of a Stick in the Water.

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.

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, 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.

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.

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 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 belongs, muſt immediately ceaſe, and cou'd never more be exerted in any Degree at all.

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, 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 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.

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 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 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 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.

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 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.

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.

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.

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.

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 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉 .

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.

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, 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.

Curae leves loquuntur, ingen • es ſtupent.

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 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 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; 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 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.

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 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 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.

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, 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,Habet hee vitium omnis Ambitio, non reſpicit. 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.

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 pace, or chooſes to advance leiſurely, towards Greatneſs and Glory; but lays the Reins in the Neck, and rides Whip and Spur.Natura noſtra Imperii eſt avida, & ad implendam Cupiditatem praeceps. 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.Etiam Sapientibus Cupido Gloriae noviſſima • exuitur. For even Wiſe Men are obſerv'd to ſtrip off all other Vices, before they quit this Deſire of Glory and Reputation.

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 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 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.

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 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.Occidat m • do imperer. Let my Son kill me, ſo my Son may but reign.

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.Si violandum eſt Jus, regnandi cau • violandum eſt, in caeteris pietatem colas. 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.

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 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.

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.

Eſt autem in hoc genere moleſtum, quod in maximis Animis, ſplendidiſſimis que ingeniis plerun que exiſtunt honoris, imperii, potentiae & gloriae Cupiditates. Cic. Lib. 1. de Offic. That which renders the Caſe yet more deplorable, It is a lofty Paſſion. is, that the Nobleſt and moſt Generous 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.

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 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.

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.

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 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?In lucem propter quae pugnaremus excutimus; non erubeſcim us ſumma apud nos haberi, quae fuerunt ima Terrarum. 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 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?Apud Sapientem Divitiae ſunt in Servitute, apud Stultum in Imperio. 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 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 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.Defunt Inopiae multa, Avaritiae omnia. Neceſſity wants many things; Covetouſneſs wants every thing.Avarus in nullum bonus eſt, in ſe peſſimus. The Covetous Man is good to no body, but worſt of all to himſelf.

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 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 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.

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 Argument of our Frailty, as Sleep is; for both of them agree in ſuſpending, ſuppreſſing, and binding up the Powers of the Reaſonable Soul.

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 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, 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.

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, 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.

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 wicked and deteſtable, but very frequently vain and ridiculous in its Deſires.

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. Deſideria naturalia ſinita ſunt. Ex falsâ op ni • ne naſcentia ubi deſinant non habent Nullus enim Terminus falſo eſt. Vià eunti aliquid extremum eſt, Error immenſus eſt. Senec. The Deſires which Nature 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, Scilicet improbae Creſeunt Divitiae; tamen Curtae neſcio quid ſemper abeſt rei. Creech, Horat. Od. XXIV Lib. III. Their Stores increaſe, and yet I know not what, Still they do ſomething want, Which neither Pains can get, nor Heaven cangrant, To ſwell their narrow, to a full Eſtate. 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 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.

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. 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.

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.

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 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.

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, Indignus Caeſaris Ira. 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.

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.

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, 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.

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 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.

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 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 ourQuioccidit longè, non ulciſcitur, nee gloriam aſſequitur. Honour.

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, Romana Virtus—Parcere Subjectis, & debellare Superbos. 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 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. Cuncta ſerit, dum cuncta timet. Laviſh of Blood the Coward kills; The Brave Holds his relenting band, and dares to ſave. 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, 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.

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 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.

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 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 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 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.

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.

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 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.

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 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

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?

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 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.

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 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.