BUt to ſay ſomething more particularly of the Tranquility of the Mind; let us again repeat, That by this Expreſſion, we don't underſtand a ſlow and lazy Temper, nor a ſluggiſh and languiſhing Idleneſs. But as Cicero Explains it out of Pythagoras and Plato; Placida quieta que conſtantia in animi parte rationis principe: A ſweet and peaceable Conſtacy of Mind. Or as Democritus ſays; An excellent equal and ſweet Constitution and Temper of Mind; which makes the Man ſettl'd and unſhaken in ſuch a manner, and to ſuch a degree, that whether he be Employed or at Leiſure; whether Proſperity favour him, or Adverſity frowns upon him, he continues always Equal, always like Himſelf, and will not ſuffer himſelf to be Tranſported by an exceſs of Joy, nor dejected by Grief and Sorrow. In a Word, he is at no time diſturbed by ſuch-like Paſſions: Therefore this Tranquility of Mind was called 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉 , which ſignifies freedom from Trouble and Diſquietneſs, for in the ſame manner as a Ship is ſaid to be in quiet not only when it is becalm'd in the middle of the Sea, but likewiſe chiefly when it is driven by a favourable Gale, which indeed cauſeth it to ſail ſwift, but nevertheleſs quietly and ſteddily: Thus the Mind is ſaid to be in Tranquility, not only when it is at reſt, but more eſpecially when it undertakes great and excellent Things without being diſturb'd inwardly, and without loſing any part of its Steddineſs. On the contrary, as a Ship is ſaid to be diſturb'd not only when it is carried away with the contrary Winds, but when it is beaten by thoſe that riſe out of the very Waters; thus the Mind is ſaid to be diſquieted, not only when in its proceedings it is carried away with divers Paſſions, but likewiſe when in the midſt of Reſt, Care Grief and Fear are continually gnawing and fretting it, and rendring it uneaſy. Theſe therefore, and ſuch like, are the Paſſions which by diſturbing our Tranquility, interrupt the Happineſs of our Lives. Cicero Speaks of them in this manner, The turbulent Motions and the Diſquietneſs of the Mind, which proceed from an unconſiderate raſhneſs, and oppoſe all Reaſon, leave no room for an happy Life; For how can it poſſibly be but that he who always ſtands in fear of Death or Pain, the one being often at Hand, the other always threatned, muſt needs be miſerable? Thus in the ſame manner, if he dreads Poverty, Shame or Infamy, if he apprehends Infirmity or Blindneſs; in a Word, if he fears that which may happen, not only to every Perſon in particular, but alſo to the moſt powerful People, I mean Slavery, Can ſuch a one be happy who is continually fearing ſuch Things? Can he enjoy the leaſt ſhadow of Happineſs? In what unhappy condition is that Mind, that not only dreads Calamities, Baniſhment, the loſs of Goods, the Death of Children, but foreſeing and apprehending them as already preſent, Dies overwhelmed with Grief and Sorrow? Can we ſuppoſe that he who ſuffers himſelf to be born down by ſo many tragical Thoughts and Apprehenſions, can be any otherwiſe than unſpeakably Miſerable? Again, when you ſee a Man furiouſly tranſported with a violent Paſſion, coveting every thing with a greedy and immoderate Deſire, and ſtill as he arrives to a higher and fuller degree of enjoyment of Pleaſure, the more eagerly he hunts after and purſues 'em: Have you not great Reaſon to judg this Man very Miſerable? What think ye likewiſe of another, who is always fluctuating, and ſuffers himſelf to be tranſported by a fooliſh and immoderate Joy? Dont ſuch a one appear to you the more Miſerable the more he thinks himſelf Happy? As ſuch therefore are Miſerable, theſe are on the contrary Happy, who are not frighted with Fears, who ſuffer not themſelves to be overcome with Sadneſs, who are not inflamed with Luſts, nor moved by immoderate Joys; and on whom the powerful Charms and Allurements of theſe ſoft and effeminate Pleaſures have no powerful Influences. Hearken to Torquatus: Epicurus, whom you ſay, was too much addicted to his Pleaſures, declares, That it is impoſſible to live Pleaſantly, if we live not Wiſely, Honeſtly and Juſtly; and that we cannot live Wiſely, Honeſtly and Juſtly, but we muſt of neceſſity live with Delight: For as the Inhabitants of a City cannot be eaſy during a Storm, nor a Family when the Maſters are at odds, much leſs can a Soul be happy when it agrees not with it ſelf, or is hurried about by divers contrary Paſſions. It is not capable of any pure and free Pleaſure, and ſees nothing but in a hurry and in a confuſion. If the Diſtempers of the Body interrupt the felicity of Life, how much more do the Diſeaſes of the Mind? Now the Diſeaſes of the Mind are the vain and immoderate Deſires of Riches, Glory, Dominion, and of mean and ſordid Pleaſures. You may add to theſe, Diſcontent, Fretfulneſs and Frowardneſs, which gall and fret the Minds of Men, who will not conſider that we ſhould not afflict our ſelves for that which cauſeth no preſent Pain to the Body, nor it may be never will. You may add Death, which threatens us continually, and hangs always over our Heads, as the Rock did over that of Tantalus: You may add Superſtition, which never ſuffers the Perſon to be at quiet who is infected with it. Such never think upon the good Things paſt, they enjoy not the preſent, and when they conſider that what they are in expectation of, is uncertain, Grief and Deſpair afflict them: But they are exceedingly tormented when they think that they have begun too late to ſeek after great Offices, Riches and Glory; finding themſelves deprived of thoſe Pleaſures which they had hopes of enjoying, and for which they have undergone ſo much Pain and Trouble. Others have mean and low Spirits, always in deſpair of every thing; others Dream of nothing, but how to do Miſchief, are Envious, Fretful, Penſive, Slanderers and Angry; others are unconſtant and changeable in their Love; others are Haſty, Cowards, Impudent, Intemperate, Wavering, never continuing in the ſame Mind. This is the Cauſe, that during their Lives, their Paſſions are in a continual Warfare without Ceſſation.

And therefore we cannot but mention the ſincere Pleaſure and Delight which he muſt needs enjoy, who being freed from theſe Paſſions that tormented him, underſtands his own happy State, and finds himſelf, as we have ſaid before, in Reſt in a ſafe Haven, after he has been toſt and beaten with the Winds and Waves of the Sea. But we ſhall have another occaſion to ſpeak of this particular Pleaſure, when we ſhall treat of the Vertues that are fit to calm the Paſſions, and by that means to cauſe a ſedate and peceable Temper of Mind: Beſides, that Sweetneſs and Pleaſure may eaſily be underſtood by that eſteem which ſuch a one hath, who longs for it when he finds himſelf in Trouble or in actual Diſturbance. Like as that Perſon who is in the midſt of a Tempeſt at Sea, longs for a Calm, and a favourable Gale; or as he that is ſeized with a violent Diſtemper, wiſhes earneſtly for Health; for none knows ſo well how to value theſe things, as he who looks upon them in a contrary State, and hath the Impreſſions ſtill remaining: Therefore I ſhall the rather ſpeak a Word of that which I have already mentioned, That we may the better preſerve this Tranquility of Mind, and by that means live Happily, not only when at reſt and out of the incumbrance of Buſineſs, but alſo in the midſt of the greateſt and moſt important Employments.

AS this ſuppoſes that there are two kinds of Life, and likewiſe two kinds of Felicities, the one in Contemplation, the other in Action, wiſe Men have ſtill preferred a contemplative before an active Life: However, this does not hinder thoſe whom either their Birth, Genius or neceſſity of Affairs have ingaged in Buſineſs, from being altogether incapable of enjoying a Tranquility of Mind; for whoſoever undertakes this, goes not Blindfold to Work, but after he hath for ſome time ſeriouſly conſider'd, and taken a due proſpect of the ſtate of human Affairs, not as from the midſt of the Crowd, but as from a higher Station; and underſtands, that in the active courſe of Life there may happen many Accidents, that all the Wiſdom of Man cannot foreſee; provides, if not againſt each particular, yet againſt the general Difficulties that may occur: Such a one is always upon his Guard, ready to take Advice upon all ſuddain Emergencies; he knows that he can command what is in himſelf, but cannot govern what depends not upon his free Will; he acts according to his Power, and does what becomes the Duty of an honeſt Man; and afterwards, whatever happens, he thinks that he ought to be Content and Satisfied; he dont flatter himſelf with the certainty of a happy ſucceſs of all his Undertakings, but thinks that matters may ſometimes happen contrary to his Deſires and Endeavours, and therefore prepares himſelf in ſuch a manner, that tho he may experience Adverſity, he may nevertheleſs bear it with Conſtancy and Patience. Such a one, I ſay, thus reſolved and prepared, if he be ingaged in a buſy Life, may govern himſelf, that in the midſt of the hurry and incumbrance of Affairs he may maintain in himſelf an inward repoſe and calmneſs of Mind: 'Tis what Claudian ſo truly relates of Theodoſius the Great, and which we, without Flattery, may duly apply to our preſent Monarch, the true Model of a wiſe Prince.

Neither the projecting Thoughts of deep Deſigns, nor the heavy Burthen of the Kingdom, which he ſupports, can diſturb the Peace of his Mind; but like the high top of Mount Olympus, his Soul is always clear and ſerene, hovering above the miſty Clouds and ſtorms of Thunder, and always free and undiſturb'd like it ſelf.

A divine Modeſty graces his Voice, no offenſive Words drop from his Lips, his Eyes are never ſeen to ſparkle with Anger, nor his Veins diſtended with boyling Blood; he knows how to Reprove without being Tranſported, and calmly to correct the Failings of others.

Nile ſoftly glides along without vaunting of its Strength or breaking its Bounds, and yet it is one of the moſt uſeful of all the Rivers of the World: The Danube, which is yet larger and more rapid, keeps within its Banks, moving without Noiſe: Yea, the Ganges, that vaſt River, paſſes along ſilently, rowling its Waves into the Depths of the Ocean.

Let the Torrents roar among the Rocks, let them threaten and overturn Bridges, and purſuing their Rage, let them overwhelm or carry before 'em whole Foreſts; 'tis Peace and Tranquility that have a commanding Power and Effect, far greater than Violence and Fury, to force Obedience.

Beſides, when things are over and accompliſh'd, a wiſe Man doth not Vaunt and Applaud himſelf if they ſucceed well, nor is he diſturb'd or dejected if they happen amiſs: He doth not repent of the Meaſures he hath taken, becauſe every thing being well examined and duly conſidered, it was moſt probable they ſhould ſucceed; and therefore he would take the ſame Courſe if the ſame Circumſtances did again occur. The Anſwer of Photion is remarkable, who when he had diſſuaded them from a War, which nevertheleſs afterward proved very ſucceſsful: Tho' I am very glad, ſaid he, that the Event happen'd ſo Proſperous; yet I don't at all repent of the Advice I have given. It comes very near that of Cicero's. It becomes a wiſe Man, ſaith he, to do nothing againſt his Will, or what may cauſe him to Repent; to do all things ſedately and deliberately, with a grave Steddineſs and conſtancy of Mind, neither ſuppoſing things to happen by an unforeſeen Neceſſity, nor to admire any thing as new and unexpected, but to abide firm and ſtedfaſt in his Judgment. A wiſe Man ought not to deſpiſe the Advices of other Men, and to truſt too raſhly to his own Opinion; but having well weighed Matters, he ought not, out of too mean Apprehenſions or Diffidence of himſelf, to ſuffer the Opinion of the Vulgar to ſway with him. For this Reaſon, that Roman Temporizer deſerves to be applauded, who preferr'd the Safety of his Country before the Exclamations of the Populace. Photion was of the ſame Temper; who becauſe he could not be prevail'd upon to rely on the Strength of his Soldiers and their Courage, and head them on to Battle, they accuſed him of Cowardiſe. But he made them this prudent Anſwer; My brave Companions, you cannot make me Courageous, and I will not make you Cowards; it is ſufficient that every one ſhould underſtand his own Buſineſs.

BUt after all that can be ſaid in Commendation of an Active Felicity; Ariſtotle had Reaſon to prefer a Speculative: For Contemplation exerts the moſt Excellent and Divine Part of our Selves; and beſides, this ſort of Action is the moſt noble, innocent, and laſting, and the moſt eaſily ſet on Work. We ſhall not here repeat what hath been before ſaid upon the firſt Part of Vertue, to ſhew wherein the Happineſs of a wiſe Man conſiſts, or the Satisfaction he receives in a Contemplative Life; it will be ſufficient to recite what Cicero very learnedly obſerves: What Pleaſures, ſaith he, don't a thinking Mind enjoy, who is employ'd Night and Day in Contemplation and Study? What extraordinary Delight is it to obſerve the Motions and Circumference of the World, the infinite number of Stars that ſhine in the Heavens; thoſe ſeven Planets, which being more or leſs diſtant the one from the other, according as they are higher or lower, wandering and uncertain in their Motions, and yet never fail to fulfill their Courſe in their appointed time? The Sight and Conſideration of ſo many excellent Things, perſuaded the antient Philoſophers to proceed to new Inquiries, to examine into the cauſe and beginning of the World, from whence all things proceed, from whence they are engender'd, what differing Qualities are crept into their Compoſition, from whence Life and Death happen, how the Alterations and Changes of one thing into another came to paſs, by what weight the Earth is ſupported, and how ballanc'd, into what Concavities the Waters are confin'd, and how every thing preſs'd by its own weight, naturally tends to its own Center. Thus by diſcerning and continually meditating on theſe wonderful Things, we at laſt arrive to that Knowledge which God heretofore recommended to Delphos, namely, That the pure Soul having ſhaken off all Vice, ſhould know it ſelf, and find it ſelf united to the Divine Underſtanding or Being. This procures it an everlaſting and unſpeakable Delight; for the Contemplations upon the Power and Nature of the Gods, cauſe it to have a ſtrong Inclination for Eternity; and when it once perceives the neceſſary Conſequence of Cauſes guided and govern'd by an eternal Wiſdom, it believes not it ſelf confin'd to the narrow Limits of this Life: Therefore it conſiders human Affairs with a wonderful Tranquility, it inclines to the Practice of Vertue, it inquires wherein conſiſts the chief Good, and the chief Evil, whither all our Actions ought to tend, and what is the Rule of Life we ought to ſteer by.

Moreover, he who ſhall have conſider'd the ſtrong Revolutions of Things ſince the beginning of the World, the Riſe, Progreſs, Conſiſtency, Declenſion and Over-throw of Kingdoms, Common-wealths, Religions, Opinions, Laws, Cuſtoms, Manners, and the preſent Ways and Methods of Living, now in Vogue, which our Fore-fathers would have rejected, ſuch as our Anceſtors ſeriouſly followed, and which we now laugh at, and ſuch poſſibly as will hereafter pleaſe our Poſterity, yet could we but at preſent ſee them, we ſhould laugh at and deride: Theſe Faſhions and Cuſtoms tho' they change in ſome particular things, may in general be ſaid to be the ſame, and are only a Sign of the Frailty, Lightneſs, and Inconſtancy of Mankind. And thus it always happens, that Men by their Lightneſs live continually miſerable, being carried away by Ambition or Covetouſneſs, or ſome other Paſſion: They don't ſee how much it is their Concern to free themſelves from ſuch Cares, to be content with little, to live within themſelves, and to ſpend their Life peaceably, without ſo much noiſe. He, I ſay, who ſhall have employ'd his Mind in ſuch Contemplations, will, doubtleſs, feel extraordinary Delight, and will be very happy in his Thoughts, eſpecially if he conſiders all things as from that high and ſacred Tower, from whence, as we ſaid, Vertue looks down upon the ſeveral Actions and Affairs of Men, their Ambition, their Pride, their Vanity, their ſordid Covetouſneſs, and the reſt before hinted.

NOw to ſpeak ſomething concerning Freedom from Pain: It ſeems not ſo much in our Power to free our ſelves from Pain in our Bodies, as to eaſe our ſelves of Troubles in our Minds; for tho' it is difficult to ſtop the Paſſions in their full Career, and check their exorbitant Motions, yet if we except ſuch as have a Conjunction with Pain, ſuch as are, particularly, Hunger and Thirſt, which create a deſire of Eating and Drinking, it ſeems in reſpect of the others, as they ariſe in us from Opinion; ſo they may, (if we keep our ſelves from the Influence of that Opinion,) be check'd and curb'd. But in relation to the Pains of the Body, tho' we may take care not to draw them upon our ſelves outwardly, nor ſtir them up inwardly; yet it often happens that the Temper which we derive from our Mother's Womb is ſuch, that upon that very account we are liable to many Pains during the courſe of our Lives. 'Tis not without Reaſon therefore, that Eſop feigned, that when Prometheus was to temper the Clay, with which he was to make Man, made uſe of no Water but of Tears; for by that he had a deſign to teach us that the Nature of our Bodies is ſuch, that it is partly ſubject to outward, and partly to inward Miſchiefs; and ſeeing it is impoſſible but ſome will often befal us, of neceſſity we muſt ſuffer ſome Pain. I ſhould be endleſs to enumerate the Particulars of this kind, that may befal us, either from Tyrants, from Fools, from all ſorts of Animals, from Heat, from Cold, from Fevers, Gout, Defluctions, &c. I ſhall only obſerve, that ſuch who have been ſometimes tormented with them, may tell with what earneſtneſs they wiſhed to be freed, and how much they would have given to be delivered. Certainly there is no Perſon that labours under an acute Diſtemper, and is grievouſly tormented with Pain, but when he conſiders ſuch as are in Health, eſteems them very happy, and wonders that they don't acknowledge the greatneſs of the Advantage they enjoy, it being ſo conſiderable, that no worldly Enjoyments can ſtand in competition with, or be accounted a valuable Exchange for Health. Wherefore in all Ages, Men have highly extoll'd it. But as every Book is full of its own Praiſes, I ſhall only take notice what an antient Poet ſaith, That the greateſt Benefit that can befall frail Man, is to enjoy Health.

ARiſtotle obſerves, That in the object of Virtue one may diſtinguiſh two Mediums, one he names the Medium of the Thing, Medium rei, which is from one ſide to the other, equally diſtant from the Extremes; and this is the ſame in the Judgment of all Men; as for Example, the number of Six between Two and Ten; for it is diſtant from one and the other five Unites; therefore he calls that a middle in Arithmetick, which is termed an Arithmetical Proportion. The other he ſtiles a Medium in reſpect of our ſelves, Medium quoad nos, or which is neither above nor beneath what is convenient for us: From hence it is, that it cannot be the ſame in reſpect of all Men, becauſe the ſame thing is not equally convenient to all; for Example, if to Eat ſix Pounds weight is too much, and Two too little, the Rule therefore of the Athletes preſcribes not ſix Pounds to all, for it is too little for a Milo and too much for a Tiro. Wherefore this Middle or Medium is commonly ſtiled, the Middle according to Reaſon, Medium Rationis, becauſe it is appointed by right Reaſon, and becauſe it conſiſts in that Reaſon or Proportion, which Ariſtotle ought to have named of Geometry, and which belongs only to the wiſe Man to underſtand.

Ariſtotle therefore ſhews, that Virtue conſiſts not in the Medium of the Thing, but in the Medium in reſpect of us, Geometrically conſider'd, with relation to Reaſon; for as Virtue hath the Paſſions and Actions for Objects, for Example, ſuch as are theſe, to Fear, to be Confident, to Deſire, to have an Averſion, to be Angry, to have Pity, and in ſhort, to be affected with Pleaſure or Grief; I ſay, Virtue having for its Object the Paſſions and Actions, in which there may happen to be Exceſs, Deficiency, or a due Medium between both; here it belongs to Virtue to point out a Middle, which may be moſt proper and convenient, both in reſpect of Time, Perſon and Place, or any other Circumſtance that may attend us.

He farther demonſtrates, That whereas Virtue conſiſts in preſcribing a Middle between two Extremes, it is it ſelf that Medium or middle Habit between two vicious Extremes, the one inclining to Exceſs, and the other defective, either in the thing or in the Object. So that Virtue in its Eſſence and Nature, in that it preſcribes a Middle, is really it ſelf alſo a kind of Medium; but in relation to Excellency and Perfection, it is ſomething elevated above all. This cauſeth them to make this common Diſtinction, The Middle in reſpect of the Object, and the Middle in reſpect of the Eſſence; becauſe the Middle in relation to the Object, is nothing elſe but the Middle in relation to our ſelves, or in reſpect to Reaſon, and which is placed or conſidered between two Extremes: According to what Horace ſays, when he tells us, That there is a juſt Mediocrity to be kept in things, and that there are due Limits and Bounds which we muſt neither come ſhort of nor exceed.

The Medium, in reſpect of the Eſſence, is nothing elſe but Virtue it ſelf between two Vices; or as the ſame Author expreſſes it, the Middle of two Vices, in reſpect of both Ends.

He does afterward illuſtrate and prove the Matter; for Fortitude is a Middle between Cowardiſe and Preſumption; Temperance, between Intemperance and a total Neglect; Liberality, between Prodigality and Covetouſneſs; Magnificence, between Niggardlineſs and Gaudineſs; Magnanimity, between Puſilanimity and a fooliſh Oſtentation; Modeſty, between having a due regard to our Honour and Ambition; Clemency and an eaſy and tractable Converſation, between a baſe Compliance and a cholerick Temper; Truth and Veracity, between Diſſimulation and vain Boaſting; a pleaſant Humour, between Ruſticity or a clowniſh Temper; Amity, between Flattery and a thwarting Temper; Moderation, between Stupidity and Impudence; a juſt Indignation, between Envy and Jealouſy, and Malevolence or Ill-will; Prudence, between Folly or Stupidity, and cunning Craft or Knavery. For Juſtice, though it is not properly between two Extremes, becauſe there is nothing oppoſite to it but Injuſtice; nevertheleſs, it ſeems to acknowledge a Medium in its Object, becauſe Juſtice being a Virtue that relates to others, or is between two Perſons, it belongs to it ſo to reduce the thing to Equity or Equality, that the one may not have more, nor the other leſs than is due; ſo that Injuſtice ſtands in ſtead of Exceſs in reſpect of one, and of Defect in reſpect of the other.

He maintains alſo, That there are certain Vices that will not admit of any Mediums, as Adultery, Theft and Murder, becauſe there is always a Sin in the very Act, and no Virtue can be found in it: For Example, to preſcribe with what Woman, at what time and how Adultery ought to be committed; for to ſeek for a Medium there, is the ſame as to ſeek for one in Debauchery, in Cowardiſe, and in the extremities of other Vices.

Laſtly, he affirms, That the Extremities are not only contrary to one another, but alſo to the Mediums; inſomuch, that the Valiant and Courageous appears to the Coward Bold and Preſumptuous, and to the Audacious Mean and Cowardly; The Liberal ſeems to be Prodigal to the Covetous Wretch, and to the Prodigal Covetous, and ſo of the reſt. Nevertheleſs, there are ſome Extremes that ſeem to be more contrary and oppoſite to the middle than the other, and for that reaſon ſometimes one Virtue ſeems to incline more to Exceſs than to Defect, as Fortitude ſeems to be more like Audacity than Cowardiſe, and ſometimes nearer to Defect than Exceſs, as Temperance ſeems to incline more to a privation from Pleaſure than to Intemperance. From hence he concludes, That there is a difficulty to become truly Virtuous, becauſe it is hard to find the Medium that might be convenient in all reſpects; and therefore he adviſes them who propoſe that Medium, to avoid chiefly that extremity, which is moſt contrary, and to take heed of that Vice unto which we have moſt tendency, and to act as thoſe who labouring to make a crooked Stick ſtrait, bend it in ſuch a manner on the contrary ſide, that at laſt they may reduce it to a perfect ſtrait, which is that of Right and Equity.

NOW as the Stoicks differ from the Peripateticks in particular, that the Stoicks in the firſt place would have a wiſe Man be 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉 , without Paſſion, whereas the Peripateticks diſtinguiſh the Paſſions or Affections into vain and uſeleſs, and into natural and neceſſary. They ſay well, that a wiſe Man ought to be free from the firſt ſort, but that the latter ſhould be kept in and bridled in ſuch a manner, that we may obſerve a convenient Mean and a juſt Mediocrity. Secondly, whereas the Stoicks will never allow a wiſe Man either to complain or grieve, nay, in the midſt of Pain he ſhould keep up to ſuch a ſevere and rigid Auſterity as may beſpeak him almoſt inſenſible; but the Peripateticks think that this was ſpoken out of an Exceſs of Vanity and Ambition, and that it is more convenient to be moved with Tenderneſs, to let fall a few Tears, Sighs and Groans, than to be wiſe after ſuch a manner, to be inwardly tormented, as ſaith Crantor, by ſuch a kind of Inhumanity and Inſenſibility. As there is this difference, I ſay between the Stoicks and the Peripateticks, let us examin in few Words what Cicero ſaith, who ſeems to be a Defender of this Inſenſibility in anſwer to the Peripateticks. After he had given ſuch a deſcription of a wiſe Man as we have already ſeen, thus he goes on. Therefore we ought to look upon the Judgment of the Peripateticks, as weak and contemptible, when they ſay, That it is neceſſary that the Minds of Men ſhould be toſſed up and down and diſturbed; but yet they appoint a certain Moderation beyond which it is not lawful to paſs: What, ſaith he, wilt thou aſſign a Moderation to Vice? Is it not Vice to diſobey Reaſon? To deſire any thing paſſionately, and after we have obtained it to behave our ſelves Proudly and Inſolently; to be eaſily dejected, or for the very fear of Oppreſſion to grow furious, and deprive our ſelves of the uſe of our Judgment? Is it not a great Fault and Error to be either too much Dejected or Exalted? Thus Cicero argues. But to ſpeak the Truth, the Peripateticks never had any ſuch Fancy, that Vice ought to be moderated in ſuch a manner that it ſhould ſtill remain in any reſpect a Vice; they held Virtue to be a Medium, not that it was ſuch as participating of the Extremes, as Lukewarm doth of Heat and Cold; but that it is between two Extremes, as the Center is between the extremities of a Diameter, the ſtrait Line between two crooked. Neither did they pretend that it was no Vice to diſobey Reaſon, for they would have Reaſon to preſcribe a Moderation: Nor did they allow a too eager or paſſionate Deſire of Things, or when obtained, to be too much exalted or puff'd up; for they were perſuaded, that the power of Reaſon ought to give a check to all Fury and Inſolence, and to confine them within due Bounds: So that they denied not that it was evil to be too much Dejected and Afflicted, or for fear of being ſo, to fall into ſuch Deſparation and Fury, as to loſe all, and be deprived of the uſe of their Judgment; for they ſtill thought that we ought to rouſe up our ſelves, and keep us free from Deſpair, and in a due and moderate Temper. Neither did they believe that it was no Error in our Actions to expreſs too much Grief or too much Joy; for they taught, That we ought ſo to correct our Error, that there might not appear either too much or too little in any thing.

He goes further on, and ſays, That he who ſeeks a Moderation in Vice, acts as he who caſting himſelf down headlong from a ſteep Mountain, endeavours to ſtop himſelf in his Fall, but in vain; and to as little purpoſe, as it is for a Man whoſe Thoughts are Distracted, and his Paſſions Predominant, on a ſuddain to appeaſe 'em and make a Calm. But they will deny perhaps, that where Mediocrity or Moderation, in which Virtue conſiſts, being obſerved, there ſhould remain any thing of Vice; nor will they allow of that Compariſon, that where a Man hath once caſt himſelf down headlong, that its not in his Power to retrieve himſelf from Falling, to hold good in this Caſe; for he who is fallen into a Paſſion hath ſome Reaſon in him ſtill remaining, which is able to repreſs or check it, eſpecially if he hath the feweſt Grains of Wiſdom remaining, or the leaſt Inclination for Virtue, as ſuch a one may have that we now inſtance in.

At laſt he concludes in this manner, Therefore if they approve of a Moderation in Trouble, 'tis the ſame as if they allowed of a Moderation in Injustice, a Moderation in Cowardiſe, a Moderation in Intemperance; for to apportion a Moderation in Vice, is to approve of ſome part of the Vice. But Cicero inſiſts upon that which they will not allow; for he looks upon Virtue not as a Medium between two Vices, but as a Vice moderated, which is quite contrary to the Judgment of Aristotle; for he ſaith, For to ſeek a Mediocrity in Adultery, or any ſuch like Vice, 'tis the ſame as to admit of a Mediocrity, Exceſs, or a Deficiency in Ʋnjustice, in Cowardiſe, and in Intemperance.

Cicero afterwards more at large mentions the Reaſonings and Arguments of the Peripateticks, with a deſign to oppoſe 'em, That according to their Judgment, the inward Diſturbances and Paſſions are not only Natural, but that they have been allowed by Nature for good Ʋſes; That they allow of Anger as a Whet-ſtone to Courage, becauſe the Aſſault of an angry Perſon, againſt a publick Enemy, or a treacherous Subject, is more Powerful than if he oppoſed him in cold Blood; That ſevere Injunctions are not without a Mixture of Anger; That if an Orator is not angry, he ought at leaſt to pretend to be ſo; That a Man is not a Man, if he cannot be angry, and that what Men call Calmneſs is a kind of ſtupid Inſenſibility; That it is impoſſible to perform any great thing without ſome Tranſport, witneſs Themiſtocles and Demoſthenes; That without this Incentive, the great Philoſophers had never made ſo large a Progreſs in the Sciences, and that without ſuch an earneſt deſire, Pythagoras, Democritus, and Plato had never travelled as they did about the World; That it is not without ſome great advantage that Nature hath appointed Diſpleaſure and Grief, that Men might be vexed and grieved for their Crimes, and troubled for their Puniſhments, Reproofs, and Shame; That Mercy is uſeful to oblige us to aſſiſt the afflicted, and that to be emulous is not altogether uſeleſs; And laſtly, That he who will take away Fear, takes away all Diligence, &c. He adds many other Particulars which he ſeems to anſwer when he ſaith, Nevertheleſs, they confeſs when they Diſpute of theſe Matters, that they ought to be cut off in part, but that they cannot, nor ought not to be totally rooted out. So that they eſteem Mediocrity or Moderation to be requiſite almoſt in every thing. And truly in relation to what he objects; for Example, That it belongs not to a ſtout and generous Spirit to be angry, but to a Fencer; that without this Anger of a Fencer, Ajax will encounter Hector, and that Torquatus Marcellus the African, was free from it, &c. They will anſwer, That it may be proper for a Fencer to be furiouſly angry and beyond Reaſon, but the Anger of a generous Perſon is more Temperate and hearkens to Reaſon.

And as to what he ſays concerning Mercy. Cannot we be Liberal but we muſt be touched with Compaſſion and Pity? Seeing we ought not to afflict our ſelves for others, but to ſtrive, if it be poſſible, to raiſe them out of their Afflictions. They will anſwer, That Mercy will cauſe us to be more inclined to Liberality; and that the wiſe Man ſuffers not himſelf to be vexed and afflicted for others, in ſuch a manner as to be diſturbed in himſelf, but it is a kind ſenſe of Humanity that obliges him to lend Aſſiſtance to others.

In relation to Jealouſie or Emulation, they will anſwer, That the Jealouſie of a wiſe Man is nothing but a certain Motion or Deſire that ingages him to ſtrive to attain to a degree of Glory, equal or greater than that of another.

As to what concerns Fear, they will willingly agree, That Timerouſneſs or too great Fear is to be condemned; and they will ſhew, that this Life cannot be without Fear, which cauſeth us to provide before-hand againſt ſeveral Caſualties which we fore-ſee.

NOw to ſpeak ſomething concerning the Connection or mutual Relation of Moral Virtues, it is to be collected from two Particulars; Firſt, That they are all united with Prudence, as all the Members with the Body, the Streams of Water with the Fountain from whence they run. Secondly, That Prudence and all the reſt are unſeparable from a pleaſant Life, for Life cannot be pleaſant without Virtue; and where-ever Virtue reſides, there Life muſt needs be pleaſant. From hence it appears, that the conſequence of this mutual Conjunction of Virtues, is grounded upon this Maxim, That things that are united in any third thing, are united among themſelves. Now 'tis not needful to ſpeak any thing of the ſecond Particular, for we ſhall underſtand this Matter ſufficiently hereafter, when we ſhall conſider the ſaying of Epicurus, That Virtue is not deſirable for its own ſake, but for the ſake of Pleaſure. This hath cauſed ſome to exclaim againſt him. We ſhall be here ſatisfied by alledging a Paſſage out of Ariſtotle, by which it appears, that he was in this Matter of the ſame Opinion as Epicurus: As, ſaith he, the thing beloved is pleaſing to the Lover; the Horſe, for example, to him who loves Horſes, the Theatre and Shews to him who loves them; ſo to him who loves Juſtice, the things that are juſt are grateful, and generally to him who loves Virtue, the Actions that are Virtuous. I confeſs, that the things that pleaſe the common People don't agree together, becauſe they are not ſo really of their own Nature: But ſuch as are pleaſing to them who love honeſty, are of themſelves, and of their own Nature, grateful and agreeable. Such are the Actions of Virtue, which are by conſequence pleaſing, becauſe they are of themſelves ſo; their Life therefore hath no need of Pleaſure, as of an addition, but it poſſeſſeth in it ſelf an inward Pleaſure. Nay, to go yet farther, he who delights not in honeſt Actions, is no juſt and honeſt Man, nor can we denominate ſuch an one a juſt and liberal Perſon to whom juſt and liberal Actions give no Pleaſure: And the like is to be underſtood of the other Virtues. From hence therefore we conclude, That virtuous Actions are of themſelves, and of their own Nature, Pleaſant and Delightful.

In relation to the firſt Particular, the Judgment of Ariſtotle is yet more plain, for he gives this Definition of Virtue; An Habit that relates to Mediocrity; Or, a Medium which Prudence hath preſcribed and directed. This ſhews, that no Virtue can be without Prudence, and by conſequence all Virtues being united with Prudence, they have a mutual Correſpondency: This anſwers the Objection which ſome might make by ſaying, That ſure Men are not fit for all Virtues, and therefore he may be inclinable to one before he hath attained another; for he diſtinguiſheth and teacheth, that this may happen in reſpect of the natural Virtues, or of the Seeds of natural Virtue; For, ſaith he, as ſoon as we are born, we are qualified for Juſtice, for Temperance, Fortitude, and other Virtues. But this cannot be ſo, in relation to ſuch Virtues by which a Man is ſtiled a good and virtuous Man, becauſe all the reſt accompany Prudence; and to ſpeak properly, a good Man cannot be without Prudence, and a prudent Man can't be without Virtue.

Now we muſt obſerve, that this diſtinction may ſerve to reſolve the Opinion, that Laertius aſcribes to him, That he was perſwaded that all the Virtues had not a mutual Connection, for it might happen that a Man might be Prudent and Juſt, and yet might be Intemperate and Debauch'd; for he will reply, That thoſe who ſeem to be adorned with ſome certain Virtues, if they have not the reſt, have 'em in Appearance and Imperfect, becauſe their ſeeming Actions of Virtue are not inlivened with that inward Paſſion and general Inclination for Honeſty, whereby the Soul is influenc'd to act nothing without the direction of Reaſon. 'Tis the ſame as if we ſhould ſay, That they have a material Virtue, but not a formal; for the Form or Perfection and Completion of all Virtue, is this Affection and general Diſpoſition of the Mind, by which a Man does nothing but in a juſt manner, and out of a principle of Virtue; for according to the Judgment of Ariſtotle, nothing but this Diſpoſition can qualifie Men to be Honeſt and Juſt: So that he who is not rich, and conſequently not in a Condition to ſhew his Liberality or Magnificence, yet may have a Soul ſo qualified, that if his Eſtate increaſed he would do nothing but what is Juſt, Honourable, and Magnificent; for tho' he hath not the Habit of beſtowing large Gifts, yet he hath a Propenſion of giving according to his Abilities, and is not ſparing of that which is in his ſmall Power to give. Therefore the Liberality of that poor Country-man, who having nothing elſe, preſented Water to the King which he had drawn out of the River, was as acceptable, as the Gifts of Princes in rich and coſtly Veſſels.

I ſhall not here mention the ſeveral Reaſons that Alexander hath collected, nor with him ſtay to tell you, for inſtance, That it is impoſſible for a Man to be juſt, unleſs at the ſame time he hath all other Virtues; for if he be intemperate, or fearful, or covetous, he will ceaſe to be juſt, when an Opportunity offers of Pleaſure, Danger, or Hopes of Gain; and ſo it is with other Vices, there is not any but is able to cauſe us to Violate and Corrupt ſome part of Juſtice. I ſhall only take notice, that this Doctrin of the Connection and Correſpondency of Virtues together, is common not only to Epicurus, Ariſtotle, Plato, St. Ambroſe, and St. Gregory, but chiefly to the Stoicks, tho' theſe laſt add this Paradox, That Virtues are all equal. I add the word chiefly, for among them theſe Opinions paſs for Current; That a wicked Man hath no Virtue, and a juſt Man no Vice; That the firſt ſins in every thing, and the latter acts nothing ill; That whatſoever a wiſe Man doth, he doth it aſſiſted by all the Virtues, and if he did but wag his Finger without the direction of Reaſon, he would commit a Sin.

BUt as we are now to ſpeak of the ſeveral kinds of Virtue, we ought here firſt to lay down the common Diviſion thereof. Not to mention here what Zeno taught, that there were divers ſorts of Virtues, (which yet the Megarians would not allow of, ſuppoſing 'em to be but one, under ſeveral Names:) Nor what Apollophanes aſſerts, viz. That of Prudence only: That celebrated Diviſion of Virtue into four parts is ſufficiently known, viz. of Prudence, Temperance, Fortitude, and Juſtice. Nevertheleſs, Ariſtotle in his Morals, treats of theſe four Virtues in the ſame manner as he treats alſo of Gentleneſs, of Liberality, of the greatneſs of the Mind, of Magnificence, of Moderation, of juſt Indignation, of Modeſty, of Gravity, of Truth or Veracity, of Civility, and of the reſt, as diſtinct kinds of Virtue, not tying himſelf to any limited Number; And ſo begins to diſcourſe of Fortitude.

For the Stoicks, tho' they have variouſly divided Virtue, nevertheleſs, Poſſidonius, among the reſt, holds to theſe four kinds; and therefore Cicero ſeems to have taken this from the Stoicks; Whatſoever is just and honest, proceeds from one of theſe four Species; for either it relates to the diſcerning of Truth and Falſhood; or the Preſervation of the Society which conſiſts in the faith of Contracts, and in giving to every one what appertains to him; or the strength and greatneſs of the Soul; or elſe in the Moderation in all that we ſay or do: By which Words the four ſorts of Virtue are deſcribed. Now we muſt obſerve, that if ſince the days of St. Ambroſe, and St. Jerom, theſe four Virtues have been ſtiled Cardinal Virtues, becauſe they are look'd upon as the Hinges upon which the reſt turn; it is doubtleſs in imitation of the Stoicks, who affirm, That among the Virtues ſome are Primitive or Principal, the others ſubject and depending on the former; and that the firſt are Prudence, Fortitude, Temperance and Juſtice; and the latter a greatneſs of Mind, Continency, Patience, quickneſs of Apprehenſion, or livelineſs of Spirit, Subtilty, and ſound Judgment, all which Cicero terms Companions, and Seneca branches of the firſt Stock.

WE commonly divide the general Offices or Duties of Prudence into theſe three Parts, viz. To Conſult or Adviſe well, to Underſtand and Comprehend aright, to Command and Preſcribe. 'Tis what is uſually expreſs'd by theſe Words, 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉 , which are term'd in the Schools the potential parts of Prudence, tho' they are really, and rather the acts of Prudence. The firſt then is to adviſe well, the Particle [well] being here added becauſe this belongs peculiarly to a prudent Man; for raſh and inconſidering People run headlong without ever examining the Matter: But Deliberation, which regards Prudence, ought to be good, as Ariſtotle ſaith, and tend to a good End. So that if any by taking wrong Meaſures ſuceeds, that cannot be ſaid to be a good Deliberation; for tho he obtains what he ſeeks to obtain, yet 'tis not by ſuch Means as he ought to make uſe of. Therefore Cunning or Subtilty that cares not what Methods it takes to accompliſh its Ends, whether Good or Evil, is placed as one of the Extremes of Prudence. And therefore a ſubtil and cunning Man, having no reſpect to Honeſty, is lookt upon by a prudent Man, juſt as a wicked Perſon is by a good Man. For Malice, ſaith Cicero, will often imitate Prudence.

The ſecond Duty is to apprehend well, and underſtand the ways and means that we are to make uſe of, after we have ſoberly and ſeriouſly deliberated and adviſed. Ariſtotle, by this word Ʋnderſtand, ſeems to mean nothing elſe but an eaſy Apprehenſion, or an Underſtanding quick and nimble; therefore he oppoſeth this Underſtanding to Stupidity, or a ſlowneſs of Apprehenſion. So that according to his Opinion, a prudent Man being between the Subtil and Knaviſh, and the Dull and Stupid, may be judged to be placed a Man between the evil Spirit and a Brute; they are his own Words.

The Third is to command or preſcribe the performance of the Things that have been formerly judged or reſolved on; or, which is in effect the ſame, to order that the Means that have been thus reſolved on, may actually be put in Execution: For Prudence, ſaith Ariſtotle, is of its own Nature 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉 , Imperatoria, born and deſigned to Command; ſo that inſtead of 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉 , which, according to Ariſtotle, ſignifies no other thing but a right Judgment, we ought to have uſed the Word 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉 , which imports Commanding.

THE Duties or the Acts of Prudence being ſuch as we have already mentioned, it is certain that ſome Diſpoſitions, Qualities or Faculties, are requiſite in the Soul for their due Execution. Theſe are properly the Faculties which are called Partes Integrantes, and which are commonly comprehended under theſe general Terms, of the recollecting of Things paſt, the right underſtanding of Things preſent, and the foreſight or providing againſt Things to come. For firſt it is plain, that Prudence makes it abſolutely neceſſary to call to Mind Things paſt; for in the ſequel of Affairs the Things that ought to be done hereafter, have ſuch a relation with what hath been already done, that if we forget that which hath been done, in the manner as it hath been done, that accordingly we may effect what remains to be done, it often happens either that that which is already done comes to nothing, or that which is to be performed rarely ſucceeds, but croſſes our Expectation. Beſides, our Judgments are to reaſon and judge according to our Knowledge, neither can they conclude upon more certain Grounds than this, That from like Cauſes, probably may follow like Effects. Now it is certain, that to be able to make this Compariſon of one Cauſe with another, it is abſolutely neceſſary to remember Things paſt: Beſides, as it ſeldom or never happens that one thing is intirely like to another in all Circumſtances, we ought to have in our Mind and Memory ſeveral Occurrences which are truly alike in moſt Things, and yet may be different as to other Circumſtances, that ſo in our Reſolution we may have a regard to thoſe Circumſtances. This cauſed Ariſtotle to ſay, That young Men may propably attain the Art of Geometry, and become Maſters of ſuch like Sciences; but they cannot ſo eaſily attain to Prudence, becauſe this reſpects particular Things, whereof the Knowledge is obtained only by Experience and Obſervation. Wherefore Afranius ſays of Wiſdom, that Uſe had begotten her, and Memory was her Mother.

But this may properly be underſtood of Prudence, as Ovid ſeems to imitate in theſe Verſes, where he brings in Pallas in the Habit of a grave Matron, ſaying, That Youth and even riper Years are ignorant of moſt Things which we ought to avoid, and that a good and judicious Choice is not to be made, but by a long tried and well ſeaſon'd Experience.

It is likewiſe manifeſt that the underſtanding and knowledge of preſent Things is abſolutely requiſite, and that to act prudently we muſt very well underſtand the nature, the qualities and circumſtances of our preſent Affairs. For if it happens that, for Example, any be obliged to take a Reſolution, as we ſay, upon a ſudden, How can that well be done, if he knows not perfectly all the Circumſtances of the Buſineſs, ſo that he may run them over in a moment in his Thoughts, if he ſees not the Correſpondency and Oppoſition that this Buſineſs hath with others, and if he knows not what will follow from this rather than from that? Suppoſe that he hath time to conſider, yet if he underſtands not the Nature, the State and Circumſtances of the thing he is conſidering of, the Will or Ability of thoſe who may be Aſſiſting or Prejudicial to the executing of it, what dependence it may have with Matters that may either retard or hinder it, or if he knows not his own Strength, or what he is able or not able to perform, what good can ſuch a one do, and which way will he propoſe to ſucceed? Let us therefore take it for granted, that a Man is ſo much the more Prudent and more able to deliberate, to judge well, and execute accordingly, the greater and more exact his Memory is of the time paſt, for by that the greater and more exact will likewiſe his Knowledge be of things preſent.

Laſtly, All the World will acknowledge, that the Fore-ſight of things to come, as far as we can ſearch into and apprehend 'em, is very requiſite, that if any Evil is impendent, we may endeavour to avoid it; and if any Good, we may the better ſecure it, and may ſo adapt the means to its proper end, that all things may ſucceed well. I ſay, as far as Men are able to fore-ſee and apprehend; for ſometimes things ſo fall out that all human Art and Contrivance can no wiſe fore-ſee, ſo that all our Imaginations have been deceiv'd and impos'd, things falling out quite otherwiſe than we have ſuppoſed, or our Reaſon could fore-ſee: From hence we may conclude, that our Prudence depends much upon Conjectures, and admoniſhes us at the ſame time to remember our natural Weakneſs, and to acknowledge that God only knows certainly what is to happen: And here by the way, we ought to take heed of being impos'd upon by Juglers and Fortune-tellers, who take upon 'em to predict things to come. Yet, notwithſtanding Prudence hath theſe three conſiderable Advantages, Firſt, That tho' ſometimes it is miſtaken, as namely, when an Accident intervenes, which it was not poſſible to fore-ſee, yet it often attains its End; whereas Imprudence is often deceiv'd, and ſeldom or very rarely compaſſes its End, except by Accident. Secondly, That a prudent Man, conſidering the uncertainty of all things, he propoſes nothing ſo certain to himſelf, as if it ought infallibly to fall out; ſo that hereby he prepares againſt all Caſualties that may happen contrary to his Expectation, and by this means fore-ſees as it were the Event, by being fore-warned. Thirdly, Tho' Matters ſucceed to him contrary to his Contrivance and Fore-ſight, yet he never has juſt Cauſe to repent, becauſe he ſquares his Actions by the Rules of right Reaſon, and therefore without ſome Caſualty intervening (which is out of the reach of human Fore-ſight to prevent) he could not rationally expect to be diſappointed. But on the other hand, an imprudent Man is always wrack'd with Repentance, becauſe he finds that he hath neither foreſeen nor prevented what he might have done, but ſuffered ſuch things to befall him which a cautious and timely Fore-ſight in all likelihood might have prevented.

WE ought here, upon the occaſion of the firſt Particular, to examine if Lactantius had any Cauſe to upbraid Epicurus with this ſuppoſed Crime, That he adviſeth in general, to follow Nature; and the rather becauſe if this Saying be rightly underſtood, and taken in a good ſenſe, it ſeems very reaſonable; for ſeeing that Nature and Inclination differ in ſeveral Perſons, what Rule more general and more ſecure could be given, than to adviſe with our ſelves, and to provide our ſelves a ſettlement in a certain condition and ſtate of Life, according as we find our ſelves either fit or otherwiſe? Should any Man in a Buſineſs of ſo great Moment forget himſelf, I mean not remember his own Temper and Abilities, and by that means caſt himſelf into a neceſſity to be always labouring in vain, as Siſyphus, or as the Gyants, contend with the Gods to no purpoſe. This Cicero calls ſtriving againſt Nature. It is, without doubt, a very dangerous Ambition to pretend to excel in any thing, out of a meer Fancy, that by the ſame means others have been made Famous, tho' we are often deſtitute of the ſame advantages of Mind and Fortune which others had. 'Tis by this means that Parents make their Children Miſerable, by putting them upon Employments, without conſidering their Nature, Temper, and fit Qualifications, but out of a fooliſh Ambition to raiſe them in the World, higher than their Circumſtances will permit. Wee need but hearken to Seneca upon this occaſion. Before all other Things, we ought to make a right Judgment of our ſelves, and put a juſt and true value upon our Abilities; for commonly we fancy to have more Strength and Merit than really we have. Some loſe themſelves by truſting too much upon their Eloquence. Others ſpend more than their Eſtates will allow; and ſome who have but infirm Bodies, have lain oppreſſed under too weighty Employments. The Modeſty of ſome will not ſuit with publick Functions, that require a bold and daring Countenance; and others have too much Pride, or too little Complacency, to obtain any Suit at Court. Some can never be moved, and others at the leaſt diſtaſt, are provoked to a high degree. Some cannot behave themſelves with any Decency and Civility, nor refrain themſelves from offering ſharp Jeſts, whatever danger they incur. To all theſe kind of People it is more convenient for them to live a private Life, than to be admitted to the management of publick Affairs; for a proud and haſty Temper ought to avoid all occaſions that might interrupt or obſtruct its own Freedom. Cicero ſpeaks almoſt to the ſame purpoſe, when he ſaith, We must behave our ſelves in ſuch a manner, that we may not act against our Nature in general, but follow our own Diſpoſition; for we must not oppoſe nor force Nature, or proceed in any thing, as we ſay, Invita Minerva, that is, against the Grain. If there be any thing Commendable, it is doubtleſs the equality and evenneſs of our Life and Actions, which you can't poſſibly obſerve, if you imitate the Tempers of others, and neglect your own. Let every one therefore conſult his own Genius, and judge exactly of himſelf, of his Vices, and of his good Diſpoſition, that the Stage-Players may not ſeem to excel us in Prudence: For they chuſe to repreſent not always the most excellent Perſons, but ſuch as best becomes them. Now let us hear what Lactantius objects.

The Doctrin of Epicurus, ſaith he, hath always been more famous than the reſt, not becauſe it is more agreable with Truth, but becauſe he ſpeaks more agreable with the Inclinations of every one; and by that means, he hath drawn the common People to his ſide. To him who is Slothful, he forbids Study; to the Covetous, he admoniſhes to forbear Grieving; to the Effeminate and Slothful, to enter into the managment of publick Affairs; the Coward, he adviſes not to go to the Wars; to him who hates Company, he praiſeth a ſolitary Life. If any delights not in Marriage or hath unruly Children, his directions to him is to keep to a ſingle Life. He who is Stout and Courageous, ſhall be told that the wiſe Man is Happy even under Pain. If any Fancies Honour and Preferments, he will counſel him to be acquainted with Kings; but another who cant bear a repulſe, he'le admoniſh to depart from the Court. Theſe are the Objections of Lactantius.

In the mean while, if we may take the Words of Epicurus, in a plain Senſe, without any ſuch Gloſs, in my Judgment they will not ſeem ſo unreaſonable: For firſt, for the advice he offers to a lazy Fellow not to ingage himſelf in Study, he don't hereby blame Study abſolutely, but rather he eſteems and values it highly; for he exhorts both Young and Old to the Study of Philoſophy; and for the ſake of thoſe who would apply themſelves to it, he took the Pains to make Abridgments of his own Works. But becauſe Arts and Sciences are not to be obtain'd without a reſolute and continued Labour, if there be any that either cannot or will not endure the Fatigue of this Labour, what harm is there to forbid him to ingage himſelf in it, ſeeing thereby he would do himſelf no good? We have before cited this Sentence of Epicharmus.

But if this be true, in reſpect of other Things, how much more in relation to the Sciences; which as they cannot be bought with all the Gold of the World, they cannot be obtained but by a vaſt Labour and Induſtry. And if in another place he adviſes the Covetous to be ſparing in his Bounty, he don't thereby condemn Liberality, or thoſe Expences which are made for good and lawful Uſes; but he means plainly, that if any fears to fall into Want, that he ſhould not be too laviſh of his Eſtate, and caſt it away in ſuch Liberalneſs, as belongs only to Princes, and ſuch as abound in Wealth. If he forbids them that are naturally Slow and Lazy to engage themſelves in publick Affairs, it was not without great Reaſon, as we ſhall ſee hereafter.

He forwarns a timerous Man to go to the Wars. But why ſhould we not approve of his Advice? As if we ought not to make choiſe of Men for the Wars, or as if we ſhould deſire ſuch to go thither who tremble and are affraid of the leaſt Noiſe, and whoſe Sword falls to the Ground at the ſight of Danger: Are we not ſenſible, that in an Ingagement one Coward does more miſchief with his idle Fears, than a great many brave Men may do good with their Courage? And don't pretend that we ſhould rather encourage a fearful Spirit, and make him Courageous; for if he be ſo of his own Nature, we know the common Saying, It is not an eaſy matter to turn an Hare into a Lion; Or, of a ſlender Reed to make a Lance.

He adviſes a wiſe Man to do all for himſelf. But we have already diſcovered how that is to be underſtood, and that the wiſe Man acts for himſelf, tho he puts himſelf upon Inconveniences, or even Dies for the ſake of his Friend; and yet what is there more dear and precious than Life?

He praiſeth Solitarineſs, to him who naturally cares not for Company. How can we blame this, without blaming the Retreat of many great Men, and the Rules of Living of ſeveral Societies or Fraternities of ancient Philoſophers and religious Perſons, who purpoſely ſhun the throngs of Men, for the better improving of their Minds?

If he praiſeth the ſingle Life to ſuch as decline Women, and the Happineſs of having no Children, to ſuch as are troubled with Diſobedient ones: He means not that he who hath a wicked Wife or perverſe Children ſhould ſhake them off; but he would have him who thinks of Marriage, conſider how he would endure his uneaſineſs, if he had a troubleſome Wife, or Children of corrupt Manners; ſo that by apprehending the Miſchiefs that may proceed from thence, he may the better underſtand, that it is not convenient to have either.

THe third thing that I have thought fit to obſerve, is, That of the ſeveral approved ſorts of Government, the Monarchical ſeems to be the beſt: For tho' they have all of 'em their Inconveniences and Advantages; yet the Advantages of the Monarchical are above the reſt, and the Inconveniences fewer. For as in the Monarchical, all Orders proceed from one Perſon, and relate to one; the ſtate of Affairs is more ſettled and conſtant; the neceſſary Orders upon all occaſions more eaſie to be given; the Reſolutions more ſecret; the Execution quicker, and all opportunities of Factions and Seditions prevented. Liberty likewiſe and Security, which other Forms of Government pretend to, is greater and larger, and ſo of other Advantages which are very well known. This is ſufficiently proved by the Government of a Family, which requires but one Maſter or Father of the Family; or by that of an Army, which ought to have but one General; and by the Government of the World that acknowledgeth but one Sovereign Lord. Beſides, the Annals inform us, That when the Affairs of a Common-wealth have been reduced to the laſt Extremity, they have ſet up a Dictator as the only Remedy. And tho' Ariſtotle in his Politicks, ſeems to prefer Ariſtocracy before Monarchy, he deſires that we would conſult the Genius of the People; for ſome are more fit and inclinable to one Government than to another; nevertheleſs, in his Metaphyſicks, he concludes without any Exception, That Government by many is inconvenient.

BUt as we ſhould be too tedious, and it is not convenient to treat here, what belongs to the ſeveral Forms of Government, it ſhall ſuffice to mention ſomething of the Monarchical, which may be applied to the reſt. Now as the Duty of a Sovereign hath chiefly reſpect to two times, viz. that of War and that of Peace; there are certain things among others, which he ought principally to mind. Firſt, To underſtand well, and to imprint in his Thoughts this Perſuaſion, That the Welfare, the Security and Advantage of his People; or as Cicero calls it, the Happineſs of his Subjects, ſhould be the great Deſign and End of his Government: That for this purpoſe he Rules, and upon this account it is that he is reſpected and obeyed. For as the Pilate, ſaith Cicero, deſigns a happy and ſafe Navigation, the Phyſician the Health of the Patient, the General of an Army Victory, ſo the Governour of a Common-wealth deſigns the Happineſs of his Subjects, which is ſecured by Riches, by Military Forces, by Glory, Virtue and Honeſty.

Secondly, To propoſe to himſelf no other Reward of his Cares and Labours, but the Glory of Governing well, the Gratitude, the Reſpect and Affections of his Subjects. How well was Trojan rewarded, when he heard the Applauſes of all the People, who cried out with a loud Voice, May the Gods love thee as thou loveſt us; for who can be happier than we, who need not wiſh that our Prince ſhould love us, but only that the Gods ſhould bear us equal Affection as our Prince doth? Timoleon alſo own'd himſelf ſufficiently requited, when walking abroad, he heard the like Acclamations of the People, full of Love and Veneration. Therefore Princes act with little wiſdom, or rather very imprudently, who being deſirous of Glory, endeavour to purchaſe it by any other Means than by doing good to their People, and by deſerving their Affections: For the Applauſe gained by other Methods, is accompanied with Contempt, Hatred, and Execrations of the Common People, and deſerves to be called Infamy. Excellent and Admirable was the Speech of Xunus Emperor of China to his Son Yaiis, who according to the Relation of Martinius, lived Two Thouſand Two Hundred and Fifty Eight Years before the Birth of Chriſt. Take, ſaid he, when he was dying, this Scepter due to your Virtue and Merits. Remember that you are the Father of your People, that you are to deal with them as with your Children, that the People are not born to ſerve you, but that you are born and deſigned to ſerve them; and that a King is alone raiſed up above all the reſt, that he might alone be able to ſerve all. Seneca's Expreſſion is likewiſe very admirable; The greatneſs of a Prince, ſaith he, is ſettled, firmly grounded and unſhaken, when all the People underſtand that he is as much for them as he is above them; and find by experience that he watcheth daily, and takes care as well of the Welfare of every particular Perſon, as of the general Safety of the State▪ They look upon him then not as a wild and dangerous Beaſt that comes out of his Den, but as a beautiful Star full of Divine Influence; they all ſtrive to turn towards him, ready to hazard themſelves in a thouſand Dangers, and ſacrifice their Lives to ſave his Life.

Thirdly, To excel all others in Virtue, as he excells them in Dignity: For doubtleſs, 'tis not without Reaſon, that Cyrus in Xenophon, judgeth, That it is not proper that he who is not more Virtuous than thoſe over whom he is to Command, ſhould have Power to Command them. Truly he is obliged to encourage Virtue for his Peoples ſake, for it is certain that the Example of Kings is the Pattern and Rule of the whole Kingdom.

And the Condition of Princes, in the Opinion of Quintilian, Seneca and Cicero, is ſuch, that being in view of all the World, they can no more be concealed than the Sun; they therefore, if they are vicious, expoſe their Vices to publick View, and do more Miſchief by their Examples, than by their wicked Actions. Now as he is bound to encourage Virtue for his Peoples ſake, ſo likewiſe for his own, that ſo he may gain the Eſteem and Veneration of the World, which he can never obtain if he be reputed Vicious: And among all the other Virtues, he ought chiefly to encourage Piety and Religion, as well that he may be bleſſed with Rewards from Heaven, and Abilities neceſſary to bear up the weight of ſo heavy a Burthen as the Government of the State is, as alſo to make his Subjects the more Faithful, more Reſpectful and Obedient to him; for they believe that he whom they ſee addicted to Piety and Religion, is beloved and favoured of God; and that when they are govern'd by ſuch a one who is beloved of God, they are governed by the very Spirit of God.

He muſt alſo have a ſpecial regard to the execution of Juſtice, for this purpoſe, as it hath been obſerved ſince the days of Heſiod, Kings were firſt appointed; namely, for the Chaſtiſement of the Wicked, and for the Rewarding of thoſe who deſerve it, and to end the Differences that ariſe among his Subjects, by cauſing every Man to receive his own. Therefore when a Prince deveſts himſelf of this Virtue, he ſeems to profane the true and natural Duty of a Prince; for of all the Titles of Honour, the moſt glorious and ſplendid doubtleſs is to be ſtiled Juſt.

There is alſo nothing that he ought more to heed than the keeping of his Word which he hath once given; and to obſerve punctually his Promiſes and the plighting of his Faith; for the violation of this is more unworthy in him, becauſe he hath the Power in his own Hand, ſo that there is nothing that can eaſily excuſe his breach of Promiſe; nay further, he is obliged as far as in him lies, to hinder others from doing ſo. This quality is ſo much the more excellent, becauſe it is rare among Men, and requires a firm Reſolution, Conſtancy, and a greatneſs of Mind, chiefly when the Concerns are weighty and conſiderable; we ſhall paſs over Diſſimulation in ſilence, which is too common. I know ſome Politicians do permit of ſome kinds of Deceits in a Prince, if they tend to the Advancement of the Publick good. Plato, among others, maintains, That they who Rule, are often obliged to lie and deceive for the Advantage of their Subjects. But this is a difficult Queſtion, which we ſhall examin hereafter.

Fortitude and Clemency are alſo Regal Virtues, and every one knows that a Prince cannot be excuſed from practiſing them; for as Fortitude is needful to ſtrike an Awe and prevent any ſuddain Rebellion or Diſturbance of the publick Peace: So Clemency is proper to beget in us a Love for the Prince, becauſe of his Readineſs to pardon Offenders: This alſo creates an opinion of his Goodneſs in us, when we find him naturally inclinable to obſerve that excellent Rule which adviſes a Prince to be merciful to the Submiſſive, but to correct the Stubborn.

As to what relates to Modeſty, it highly concerns him to know how to temper it with Majeſty; for fear that forgetting his human Condition, and being puff'd up with Glory and Pride, he ſhould become Inſolent, and ſhould draw upon himſelf unavoidably the hatred of his People; or on the contrary, by abaſing himſelf below his Dignity, he ſhould fall into Contempt.

BUT to return to our Author, and to ſay ſomething in a few Words, concerning that which in ſome reſpect relates chiefly to the times of Peace, and that kind of Prudence which the Latins named Togata.

The Firſt and chief Duty is to have a Care that Religion and Piety towards God, be inviolably obſerved in all parts of the Kingdom, that Heaven may be propitious to him, and that his Subjects being awed with the reſpect and dread of the Almighty Power of God, who is every where, and ſees all Things, may more readily abſtain from thoſe Crimes which he cannot hinder by his Laws. Now the Experience of our latter Days hath ſufficiently diſcovered to us the Importance and Truth of that Counſel that Mecaenas gave to Auguſtus, concerning Religion, and the Divine Worſhip. You are, ſaid he, to oppoſe and never let go unpuniſhed the Innovators and Authors of new Religions; not only becauſe that the Gods will not permit ſuch as deſpiſe them, to perform any great Actions, but becauſe thoſe who introduce ſome new Divinity, generally perſuade the People to alterations in Government, from whence proceed Conſpiracies, Seditions and ſecret Aſſociations, which are doubtleſs very dangerous to a Monarchy.

Secondly, To have a care that Arts be encouraged; not only thoſe that we term Liberal from which the Kingdom receives a particular Accompliſhment, but alſo ſuch as we call Mechanick, from which we reap great Advantage and Profit; chiefly to have a particular regard to Husbandry and Navigation, becauſe the Firſt is to ſupply us plentifully with the Neceſſities of Life, and the Second encourages Traffick, by which we communicate to Strangers the Things that they want, as they return to us the Things that we ſtand in need of.

Thirdly, To endeavour that the Kingdom may increaſe in Virtue and Riches, that is to ſay, in all Things needful to make our Lives Innocent and Happy. And as Debauchery does eaſily and inſenſibly inſinuate it ſelf, he ought to give a Check to it by ſevere Edicts; and in the mean while, he ought to give order, that ſuch as abound in Wealth, may not ſuffer the Poor at their Gates to pine away for Want: In ſhort, he ought to provide in ſuch a manner, for the ſeveral Indigences of his Kingdom, that Happineſs and Plenty may ſpread over all his Dominions in every Corner.

Fourthly, He ought to provide for the ſecurity of the Peace, that the Happineſs of the Kingdom, which ought to be the firſt and chief Aim of Kings and Governours, may be more fixt and permanent; to which purpoſe, the particulars, before mention'd, will contribute; namely, To take care to prevent all Invaſions of Strangers, of home Factions and Seditions of his Subjects; about making Alliances and Leagues, and to obſerve and preſerve them as much as is poſſible; nevertheleſs, to make the Allies privately ſenſible, that it will be in vain for them to break them: For we muſt always ſuppoſe of Strangers, that Force and Power is rather wanting to them, than a deſire or a pretence to Invade our Realm, and Conquering of it either in part or all. Therefore he ought to keep his Garriſons well furniſhed, and to be as careful of ſecret Ambuſcades, and private Treacheries, as of open Aſſaults. He ought likewiſe in the ſame manner, to have a convenient Number of Troops and Soldiers ready in Pay; and as for his Recruits and new raiſed Regiments, he ought to cauſe them to be trained up with care and exactneſs in all Military Exerciſes, that the old Soldiers teaching the new, they may be all ready to do Service when occaſion requires.

The Fifth reſpects the Subjects, That is, to prevent the Conſpiraces and Factions of the Grandees, not only by a juſt and prudent Diſtribution of Offices, but alſo by particular Expreſſions of Kindneſs, that they may have no cauſe to complain; nevertheleſs, he muſt make them know that he is their Lord and Maſter, and that he is quick-ſighted enough to ſee into their Deſigns and moſt ſecret Intentions: I ſhall not ſpeak here of the Advice of Periander, who, as Ariſtotle relates, gave no Anſwer by word of Mouth to the Embaſſadors of Thraſibulus, but only by ſigns; for he cut off the Tops of the higheſt Poppies before their Faces.

Sixthly, He ought, as we have already hinted, to prevent the Mutinies and Seditions of the People, not only by reſpect and fear; for there is nothing that more inclines popular Spirits to Inſolency, than when they ſee the Prince fallen into Contempt, and that they are ſecure from all Puniſhment, but alſo by an exact and regular Juſtice, which may free the weakeſt from the Oppreſſion of the moſt Powerful, and by eaſing the People, either by reducing their Taxes to a ſmall Proportion, or by taking them quite away; for there is nothing that more ſtirs up the Peoples hatred, and makes them more impatient, than extraordinary Taxes. But if the preſſing Neceſſities of the State obliges him to great Expences, and conſequently to raiſe large Sums of Mony, he ought to let his Subjects underſtand that ſuch Levies are for the neceſſary ſupport of the publick Security. So that if they deſire their own Welfare, ſaith Cicero, they are to comply with Neceſſity: And beſides, this is to be ordered with a great equality, and with a reſpect to the Condition and Abilities of every one. I ſhall not ſpeak concerning that Advice, of ſending abroad Colonies and Parties out of the Kingdom when the People grow too numerous; nor of that other Advice, of impoveriſhing the People, and making them grow lean, when there is danger, by too great a Plenty, of growing over-fat, and ſo are apt to become Inſolent.

Seventhly, If there be any Factions begun, or any Seditions raiſed, he ought ſpeedily to pacify them by the Mediation of ſome Perſons, whoſe Virtue, Merit and Abilities have rendred them famous and acceptable: But if the Advices, Reproofs and Counſels of thoſe Perſons don't prevail, he muſt have recourſe to Force and Arms, that he may extinguiſh an Evil in the beginning, which in time might gather Strength, and become at laſt remedileſs: He muſt not be unmindful in the mean while, if he hath not time to raiſe Forces, and that the Caſe ſeems dangerous, that it is the ſureſt Method to yield and grant ſomething of that which gave the occaſion to the Sedition.

Eighthly, If the Evil cannot ſuddenly be ſtopp'd, neither by Wiſdom nor by Arms; but if that proceeds to a Civil War, which is the great Plague of a Kingdom: Let him in ſuch a Caſe make uſe of theſe Remedies, either to yield in ſome things, and to agree upon certain Terms, or to put an end to the War by Victory, if there be any hopes, taking a good Courage, and ſaying reſolutely to himſelf in the Language of Aeneas, Nunc animis opus, Aenea, nunc pectore firmo. He muſt alſo remember, after he hath obtained Victory, or reſtored every thing by his Authority, to puniſh none but the chief Authors of the Tumult, and the moſt ſeditious Perſons, and to Pardon the reſt of his Subjects; that in ſtriking a Terror by Executions, he may prevent the like Diſorders for the future, and by his Mildneſs and Clemency, he may declare, That he acts as the Father of his Country.

But here may ariſe a Queſtion; If a Perſon of Quality, in a Civil War, may withdraw himſelf, or keep himſelf private and retired, as we ſay, out of harms way, without declaring for either ſide; or if he ought, according to that Law of Solon, ſo remarkable in Ariſtotle, Plutarch and Agellus, declare for one ſide or other. I anſwer, If he be a Perſon of Note and Figure in the Realm, and if he be in ſome great Poſt, he ought not to leave his Station and ſtand idle, but as a wiſe Pilot, he ſhould govern the ſame Helm in the Storm which he held in the Calm. But if he be a private Perſon, who ſeldom medled with publick Affairs, he may ſeem to be excus'd from ſiding with any Party, but live quietly and retire at his own Home, without affronting either Party. But if the Realm be threatned with a Foreign War, he ought not to deliberate, but declare for his Prince and Country.

NOw that we may alſo ſpeak as to what chiefly concerns the time of War, and conſequently of Military Prudence, which ſhews it ſelf by undertaking, managing and finiſhing a War. A wiſe Prince will never take up Arms raſhly, whether he acts as an Aſſailant or Defendant; but will firſt examin his own Forces, ſo that if he finds them not ſufficient, he will never adventure to make an Aſſault, for fear of not being able to ſave himſelf upon this firſt Attempt; and to prevent drawing all the Forces of the Enemy upon him, he will not expect their coming, but endeavour to prevent them by ſending Embaſſadors of great worth, and by yielding rather ſomething of his own, than to draw upon himſelf ſo conſiderable a Detriment. But if nothing can prevail upon the Enemy, whom he finds too powerful, his only Remedy will be to gather together his own Forces, and thoſe of his Confederates; and placing his Confidence in the Divine Aſſiſtance, and in the Juſtice of his Cauſe, arm himſelf with Courage and reſolve to undergo all Events, either ſtoutly to over-come with leſs Force, which often happens, or as we often ſay, ſell his Deſtruction at a dear rate. Neither ought he to undertake any War but upon a juſt account, for a juſt and reaſonable End; as for Example, To oppoſe the Enemy that would not fail to invade him; To retake ſomething that the Enemy hath wrongfully uſurped, and would never reſtore, tho' often ſolicited; To ſuccour his Allies unjuſtly oppreſſed, or to aſſiſt ſome other Nation, who being too weak and unjuſtly aſſaulted, have requeſted his Aſſiſtance. The War will alſo be deemed juſt, tho undertaken or maintained wrongfully, after that the Prince hath made reaſonable Offers, and that the Enemy hath rejected them. In all Caſes, he is to look upon War as a Sea of Calamity and Miſchiefs, which is eaſily diſturb'd but not ſo eaſily calm'd, becauſe of many unexpected Accidents hapning; ſo that only Neceſſity can be a lawful Excuſe or Pretence to cover and ſecure the Prince from thoſe direful Imprecations which the People, oppreſſed by the Miſchiefs of the War, are wont to Vomit out againſt the Authors of it.

Now that he may ſufficiently and prudently carry on the War, when it is once reſolved and concluded, he ought to take care that four things be not wanting to him; Men fit and able for the Employment; convenient Arms; ſufficient Proviſions, and as much Mony as is requiſite for his Men. It is certain alſo, that he ought firſt to make choice of good Officers, and chiefly of a General; and this General ought to be but one; for it hath been obſerved in all Ages, as Thucidides takes notice, That nothing is more pernicious than many Commanders in chief. He ought to be of a tried Experience and a ſharp Underſtanding, that he may be able to reſolve ſuddenly and with advantage; He ought to know the Situation of the Country where he makes War, becauſe the Victory or the Loſs of a Battel, often depends upon a very trivial thing, upon a narrow Lane, a ſtream of Water, a Wood, or ſome riſing Grounds, &c. Ariſtotle is of Opinion, That he ought to be an honeſt Man; but that more reſpect is to be had of his Ability than of his Manners. Beſides, he muſt have Authority, and the Reputation of a great Warrier; and ought to be ſucceſsful, not only becauſe that is a great Encouragement to an Army, but becauſe that makes the Soldiers ready, bold and reſolute, and ſtrikes a Terror into the Enemy. The Qualifications neceſſary for a General of an Army, which Cicero requires, ſpeaking of Pompey, are ſufficiently known; He muſt be indefatigable in Labour, undaunted in Danger, induſtrious in Re-encounters, quick in Execution, and a Man of an excellent Fore-ſight, Laboris in negatio, fortitudinis in periculo, induſtriae in agendo, celertatis in conficiendo, concilij in providendo. A Prince muſt alſo look to his Soldiers, that they be of a competent Age, ſtrong of Body, for they are deſigned for Labour and Fatigue; That they be of the ſame Country, rather than Strangers, for ſuch will be more faithful and leſs inclinable to Sedition; That they be well Exerciſed and Diſciplined, for otherwiſe they will ſtand in little ſtead: We all know what ſucceſs a rigid Diſcipline, ſtrictly obſerved, had antiently among the Romans. Now tho' the Infantry and Cavalry be both needful, yet the Infantry are generally more uſeful in hilly Countries, and in beſieging of Towns; and often ſo in Battels, when well inſtructed and diſciplined: For Tacitus obſerves, That as the Horſe fall on with ſpeed, ſo they often as ſpeedily ſurrender their Victory. As for their Weapons, every one knows that they muſt be fit and convenient both for Offence and Defence; and as for their Ammunitions and Proviſions, 'tis ſufficiently known of what importance they are, the want of which having cauſed many Armies to Periſh, and their Fortifications to be ſurrendred up without a ſtroke. And laſtly, as for Mony, 'tis plain, that as it is the Sinews of a State, ſo it is likewiſe of War; That Army that is not paid, becomes mutinous, and a company of Robbers rather than Soldiers; That great things are accompliſhed by Mony as well as by Force and Counſel; and finally, that which Cicero relates of Philip is true, That there is no Fortitification impregnable where a Horſe loaden with Gold can enter.

But ſome may expect that we ſhould here treat of ſeveral Accompliſhments and Duties of a General, in marching of an Army, in Incamping, in Drawing it up for Battel, in an Engagement, or in a Siege, or in the Defence of a City, &c. But this depends upon his Ability, Capacity, Preſence of Mind, Time, Place, and many other Circumſtances; that which may be ſaid in general Terms is this, That there is nothing more uſeful and more important for a General of an Army, than to know well the Condition of his Enemy, to obſerve and underſtand perfectly how to prevent them, and never to loſe the Opportunity of an Advantage.

IN this place we might anſwer ſeveral Objections which by means of this kind of Prudence, ſeem to make againſt thoſe unto whom this Rule of Epicurus, (That a wiſe Man ought not to intermeddle with the Affairs of Government,) ſeems not unpleaſing. But we have already proved by the Teſtimony of Seneca, that this is not to be underſtood abſolutely without Exception, but only upon this Condition, If nothing happens that does oblige him. He deſigns to adviſe us plainly, that a wiſe Man ought to concern himſelf with the Affairs of Government only when an occaſion ſhall be offered, where his Wiſdom and Counſil are required and needful, but otherwiſe he need not engage himſelf; and that Ambition, the deſire of Riches, Offices and Dignities, ſhould not draw him out of his private Station. And if Epicurus would never take upon him any publick Employ, doubtleſs, it was not out of the Perſuaſion of Theodorus, and ſome others, that Wiſdom is too precious, and of too great a Value, to expoſe it ſelf to Toils, Labours and Dangers, for our Country ſake, which commonly comprehends ſo many Fools and ungrateful Wretches; but it was out of pure Modeſty, as Laertius hath obſerved, and becauſe he thought it not juſt to thruſt himſelf of his own accord into Buſineſs, unto which he knew that he was not called; or to follow the practice of the Ambitious, who at laſt underſtand, too late, that which Theophraſtus complain'd of in his latter Days, when he told his Diſciples, That he had not any thing more to ſay to them, but only, That the Life of Man ſuffered fooliſhly many Pleaſures to eſcape, through Vain-glory and Ambition. That as ſoon as we begin to Live, we begin to Die; and that there was nothing ſo inconvenient to Mankind, as Ambition, and the exceſſive deſire of Glory. An excellent Doctrin! which may make us underſtand, that we ought not to defer the enjoyment of this happy Philoſophical Repoſe to a decrepit Age. We need but caſt an Eye upon the Condition of Courtiers, or ſuch as are raiſed to high Places and Dignities, and incumber'd with Buſineſs: There is ſcarce any but is wearied with his manner of Living, and wiſhes for the quiet repoſe of thoſe whom he ſees eſcaping as it were from out of a troubled Sea, ſwelling with Storms and Tempeſts, to a ſecure and peaceable Haven. Who is there that don't often think of retreating from the hurry of Buſineſs, and endeavour to arrive to that retiredneſs from the World, wherein he may compoſe his diſtracted Thoughts, and render the remainder of his Days eaſy and happy? Pray tell me, ſhould not we act much more Prudently, did we never hazzard our ſelves in this tempeſtuous Sea of Buſineſs, but withdraw our ſelves as ſoon as we can from it, and begin to live happily from our very Youth forward? Were not this a much wiſer Deſign, than to allot to our old Age, (the very Dregs of our Life, commonly accompanied with various Infirmities, and which oftentimes we never arrive to) the Pleaſure of living Happily. Doubtleſs they are happy who have taken a firm Reſolution to ſpend all their Life in ſuch a quiet State, in which others eſteem themſelves happy if they can ſpend but a ſhort, and the worſt part of their Lives. Admirable was that Advice of Cyneas to Pyrrhus, and worthy to be written in Letters of Gold; who when he was deſigning to make War againſt the Romans: Well Sir, ſaid Cyneas, And what ſhall we do when we have overcome the Romans, conquered Italy, Sicily, Lybia, Macedonia, and all the World beſides? We will then live in Pleaſure and Eaſe, anſwered Pyrrhus, We will Feaſt and Rejoyce, and ſpend the reſt of our Days in Peace and Pleaſure. But I beſeech you great Sir, replyed Cyneas, What hinders us at preſent, but that we may take the ſame Repoſe and Eaſe, Feaſt and enjoy our ſelves, and live with as much Content and Happineſs? We are in preſent poſſeſſion of what we could not otherwiſe attain, but by great Labour, Bloodſhed and Rapine, beſides a Thouſand ways of expoſing our Selves and our People, to infinite Hazards and Dangers.

I ſhall not here any longer inſiſt upon this Subject, viz. The Advantage that a wiſe Man reaps from his Tranquility and Retirement, having been often mentioned already. I will only mention, that Damocles had good reaſon to ſay, That thoſe who ſo earneſtly ſeek after great Honors and Preferments, commonly mind nothing but the outward Splendor, which dazles the Eyes of the Vulgar, but never heed the griping Cares, I may ſay Furies, which torment thoſe who are already exalted to thoſe high Places. Ariſtotle cites the Verſes of Euripides, in which he accuſeth himſelf of Folly, becauſe that when he was able to live happily as a private Man, indiſcreetly made himſelf miſerable by intangling and incumbering himſelf with Buſineſs. Am I Wiſe, quoth he, to thruſt my ſelf upon Trouble, when I could have eaſily been without it? But the ordinary Labors that we commonly undergo in the management of our neceſſary Affairs, ſeem not worthy to be taken notice of, if compared with the continual dread and terror of Mind, which attends thoſe who ſee themſelves always walking upon Brinks and Precipices in continual danger of falling ſo much the lower, by how much the higher they have raiſed themſelves. Sejanus, ſaith the Satyr, knew not what he deſired, when he greedily long'd for, and earneſtly ſought after the great Honors and boundleſs Riches, which at length he was poſſeſs'd of. For they were as ſo many Degrees, by which he aſcended to the top of that Pinacle, from whence he was to be miſerably caſt down. What ruined Craſſus and Pompey? Was it not that high Station for which they had ſo earneſtly endeavour'd, that nothing of Labour or Difficulty could hinder them in their Attempt; Such earneſt Petitions as theſe the Gods grant us in their Wrath.

BY what has been here ſaid, we may obſerve, that commonly Men do not reckon ſeveral kinds of Fortitude, becauſe they make this Virtue to be employ'd about a very particular matter. But if it be true, that it reſpects all that may be judged Evil in this Life, how much rather ſhould this matter be General, and why ſhall not we reckon as many ſorts or kinds, as there are kinds of Evil in our Life? And as there are ſome who bear patiently the loſs of Riches, but not the loſs of Honour; and who ſuffer death bravely in War, but not on a Bed of Sickneſs, and ſo of the like; why ſhould it not be neceſſary for ſuch diverſity of things to form to our ſelves divers Habits, and ſo to diſtinguiſh ſeveral kinds of Fortitude?

For as to what concerns thoſe which ſome would have to be ſometimes Integral parts in difficult Matters, and ſometimes Potential in leſs difficult, namely, Magnificence, Magnanimity, Conſtancy and Patience; It is certain, firſt, for Magnificence, that it belongs not to this Virtue, but to Liberality; becauſe as Ariſtotle tells us, it regulates the Expences of Mony, and chiefly the Expences needful in great things, as are the publick Shews and Stages, the building of Ships to defend the Common-wealth; and in ſhort, all other things which have ſomething of Grandeur, and commonly ſtrike the People with Admiration. And therefore agreably with this Opinion of Ariſtotle, Cicero recommends to us this excellent Definition, Magnificientia eſt rerum magnarum, & excelſarum cum animi ampla quadam, & ſplendida propoſitione, agitatio atque adminiſtratio. We ought alſo to take notice, that as Magnificence is a Virtue and conſequently a Mediocrity, Ariſtotle names the two contrary Vices, viz. On the one hand, Proud, Extravagant and Superfluous Expences; and on the other, doing things niggardly and mean; parting with nothing but what is drawn from us by force, againſt our free Conſent; always grudging and repining at what goes from us.

As for what concers Magnanimy, or as we term it Generoſity, it is likewiſe manifeſt that it belongs not to this Virtue, or if it doth, 'tis nothing elſe but Fortitude it ſelf under another Name. Indeed, as Fortitude is properly concerned with difficult things, it is certain, that to undertake and endure ſuch things, we muſt have a great and generous Soul, or as Cicero ſaith, We muſt have a mind highly elevated and aſſured of it ſelf, with a certain hope, having a regard to things good and honeſt. Beſides, when Ariſtotle ſaith, That Magnanimity or greatneſs of Mind conſiſts in a Perſuaſion that we deſerve much, when really our Merits anſwer our Perſuaſion; 'tis evident that this opinion of Honour that we deſerve, relates to Juſtice, or to the conveniency of Temperance, and not to Fortitude, which conſiſts in encountering Dangers, and courageouſly undergoing Labours.

As for Conſtancy, or as the Holy Scriptures ſtile it, long Forbearance or Longanimity, 'tis nothing elſe but Fortitude it ſelf, when it diſcovers it ſelf by a ſequel of many repeated Acts, and by a long continuance of Time. For a Man cannot be ſaid to be brave, but rather weak and feeble, if he continues not reſolute in what he hath undertaken, but after he hath a while ſupported himſelf, his Heart at laſt begins to faint and fail him. From hence it is, that Conſtancy and Perſeverance being ſynonimous, Cicero tells us, That Perſeverance conſiſts in a continuing reſolute a long time, and conſtant in the things that we have propoſed, after that we have maturely conſidered upon 'em.

Laſtly, As for Patience, it ſeems to be ſcarce any thing elſe but Conſtancy, unleſs it be that it conſiſts in ſuffering, as the word imports, rather than in attacquing. Therefore Cicero ſaith, That it conſiſts in ſuffering willingly and a long time, difficult things, for the ſake of Honeſty or Profit.

Therefore not to inſiſt any longer upon this Point, let us obſerve with Epicurus, That a mean Soul becomes inſolent in Proſperity, and dejected in Adverſity. Let us then conclude from hence, by the Rule of Contraries, That it is the property of a noble and generous Temper, not to be inſolent, lifted up by good Succeſs, nor to ſuffer it ſelf to be abaſed in a low Eſtate, but to bear and ſuffer the good and evil Fortune with an equal Mind, and in the ſame manner. And becauſe when all things proſper, it plainly belongs to that part of Temperance which we name Moderation, to moderate and govern our Thoughts, and to hinder 'em from riſing too high; it follows, that when Croſſes happen, it belongs to Fortitude, to keep our Minds in a conſtant and even Temper. Now as Calamities are nothing elſe but external Evils, we muſt remember that they are not really Evils, but only as they are accompanied by Pain which they cauſe in the Body, or by Grief which they produce in the Mind by the means of Opinion; ſo that only this Pain and this Grief are the real Evils: Now it belongs to Fortitude to hinder theſe from cauſing Pain, or at leaſt obliges us to bear it patiently when it comes, and to hinder it from oppreſſing and over-whelming the Mind with a vain Grief; all which is to be effected by curing our Judgment of vulgar Opinions or falſe Perſuaſions, without which it would have little or no Power upon the Soul.

FRom hence it is, that we muſt obſerve in the ſecond place, that there are as it were two general Bulwarks againſt theſe ſorts of external Evils: The firſt is a good Conſcience; for as Crantor ſaith, 'Tis a great ſupport under Afflictions, to be free from Guilt: The ſecond is to fore-ſee, and to lay before our Eyes the Miſchiefs and Evils that may happen; for he who fore-ſees the blow, and is prepared to receive it, is not ſo eaſily beaten down, as when he is ſtruck unprovided; when he is armed with Reſolution and Courage, as with a kind of Breaſt-plate, he is not ſo ſoon wounded as when he is naked and unguarded. Therefore a wiſe Man never truſts ſo much to his good Fortune, but he thinks alſo upon his Evil; for Fortune hath nothing fix'd, neither is there any thing certain or of a long continuance in human Affairs: He always repreſents before his Eyes ſome Examples of the Viciſſitudes of good and evil Things, and knows that there is no Miſchief that happens to any Body but that the ſame may befal him. Therefore he don't wait till the time of War, then to furniſh himſelf with Arms to ſupport it, nor till a Storm happens, then to prepare to reſiſt it. If a wiſe Man begets a Son, ſaith Cicero, he knows that he hath begotten a Mortal, and brings him up in that Perſuaſion: If he ſends him to Troy to defend Greece, he knows that he don't ſend him to a Feaſt, but to a dangerous War. This Conſideration, ſaith he, and this Meditation upon the Evils to come, before they happen, qualifies and allays the Miſchiefs that befal afterwards. So that I think Theſeus cannot be too much commended for ſaying in Euripides, I thought before upon the Calamities to come; upon Death, Baniſhment, &c. that I might be the better enabled to encounter with adverſe Fortune.

'Tis an undoubted Truth, that the Evils that are not fore-ſeen, are much more grievous; and that the Fore-ſight and Preparation of the Mind, hath a great Efficacy to leſſen the Pain. Let Mankind ſet always before his Eyes the Caſualties of the World; for this excellent and divine Wiſdom conſiſts in having a long while perfectly known and conſidered human Affairs, and meditated upon them; not wondering at any thing that happens, nor believe before a thing happens, that ſuch a thing cannot come to paſs. He afterwards commends the Advice of Terence, That a Man in Proſperity ſhould think with himſelf how he ſhould be able to endure Adverſity, Dangers, Loſſes, and Baniſhment, the Miſcarriages of a Son, the Death of a Wife, the Sickneſs of a Daughter; that all theſe things are common; that they may happen ſo; that nothing new ought to ſurpriſe us; and whatever good befalls us beyond our Expectation, it ſhould be look'd upon as ſo much Profit and pure Gain.

It was this kind of Meditation and Fore-ſight that cauſed that Conſtancy of Mind in Socrates, appearing always with a ſerene and pleaſant Countenance; truly, how could his Looks be otherwiſe, ſeeing his Soul was never moved nor diſturbed? Agrippinus proceeded yet farther, for he was wont to make a Panegyrick of all the Evils that befell him; of Diſeaſes, when they ſeis'd upon him; of Infamy, when Men ſlander'd him; of Baniſhment, when he was driven away. And when at a certain time he was going to ſit at Table, a Meſſage was brought him from Nero, to command him immediately to be gone and to depart; he anſwered nothing elſe but, Well, we ſhall then dine at the Town of Aricia. Ariciae ergo prandebimus.

AS Evils are uſually diſtinguiſhed into publick, ſuch as is War, Tyranny, the Ruin of our Country, Plague, Famine, and ſuch like; and into private, as Baniſhment, Impriſonment, Slavery, Ignominy, &c. It is not needful to ſpeak much of the publick Evils, becauſe they don't really concern us ſo much as they are Publick, but as they are Private, and come home to us in Particulars. 'Tis true, when Publick Calamities involve a great many Perſons, this muſt needs create much Noiſe, and they are reckoned ſo much the more unſufferable, becauſe our common Mother, namely, our Country is wrong'd and injur'd; but if we take more particular notice, we may perceive that the Evil concerns every one no otherwiſe than it ſtrikes at them in particular.

And to demonſtrate that this is no Paradox; That the Evil that is common to many, on whom we have Compaſſion, is not more uneaſie to be born; it would be ſufficient to inſtance in that which is in the Mouth of every one, and what our Experience ſufficiently verifies, That it is the comfort of the afflicted to have Fellow-Sufferers. But we need take notice but of one thing, and conſider that when a Neighbour's Houſe is on Fire, none but the Neighbours run to extinguiſh it; thoſe who live in the ſame City, at a diſtance, are not at all concered at it; for tho' they be all Fellow-Citizens, yet the Calamity don't touch them ſo much as it doth the others. So if the War be begun in Perſia, or if the Plague be hot in India, and makes there a great deſtruction, that don't concern us, tho' they be Fellow-Citizens of the ſame World; becauſe the Evil is too far off to injure us: And tho' it may infect the Borders of our Kingdom, either it moves us not; or if it doth, 'tis by accident, in that it reaches as far as us, and makes us ſenſible of the Evil.

But that I may not ſtop here: If it happens that we are involved in any common Calamity, there are two things chiefly to be weighed: Firſt, That ſuch is the Condition and natural Courſe of things which we cannot hinder; That 'tis the Sovereign Lord of the World who hath appointed ſuch Alterations and Changes, and he being moſt Wiſe, his Deſigns, tho' unknown to Men, may be, and are moſt excellent; That it belongs not to us to quarrel at, or alter that Order that he has eſtabliſh'd, but that we ought willingly to yield and follow the Paths that his Providence hath preſcribed to us; And that ſeeing 'tis not in our power to change Deſtinies, or rather the Decrees of the Divine Providence, it would better become us to mitigate the Harſhneſs and Trouble, by our own free Conſent, than to increaſe the Miſchief by fruitleſs Oppoſition; That Common-wealths have their natural Revolutions, and that it is needful that ſometimes they ſhould be govern'd by Princes, and become Monarchies, ſometimes by the People, and devolve into Democracies, and ſometimes by the Chieftains and principal Men, and be changed into Ariſtocracies. This Cicero tells us, which he had taken out of Plato, unto which he adds this excellent Paſſage, which ſhews the Nobility of his Mind, and the extraordinary Greatneſs and Reſolution of his Soul, when he deſcribes the lamentable State of the Common-wealth; I have not hid my ſelf, I have not cowardly forſaken, neither have I extraordinarily afflicted my ſelf, I have not behaved my ſelf like a Miſanthropus, a Man provoked againſt the Times.

Secondly, If a wiſe Man eſcapes, with Health of Body and Mind, from a publick Calamity, he hath no cauſe to complain againſt the ill Uſage of Fortune, as if it had treated him amiſs, and ſtript him of thoſe things that really belong to him. The excellent Saying of Bias is well known; after a general Conflagration, he declared, That he carried with him all the Goods that he ever poſſeſſed. And we may mention Stilpon, who having been driven away from his Country, loſt his Wife, Children, and all his other Goods of Fortune, gave this anſwer to Demetrius, who had taken the City, and had asked him, If he had loſt nothing? anſwer'd, All my Goods are with me. He underſtood, ſaith Seneca, Juſtice, Virtue, Temperance, Prudence; and he reckoned not among his Goods, that which could be taken from him. The wiſe Man accuſtoms himſelf to the Evils to come by thinking upon them often, as others do by ſuffering them long. I knew not, ſays the Fool; that I had ſo many Troubles to undergo. The wiſe Man underſtands that all Evils remain yet behind, and ſaith, I knew before, all that has happen'd, and was prepared and provided for all that is come to paſs.

IMpriſonment looks like a thing more grievous; but a wiſe Man thinks it not ſo; for his Mind cannot be confined within any Walls, nor Bound with any Chains. How can a Soul, which is always at liberty, and always enjoys it ſelf, be limited within a Priſon, ſeeing it is not to be bounded by the limits of the World? It can run over the ſpacious large compaſs of the Earth, and in it ſelf examine the Paſſages of every Age, and by that means ſearch into Eternity it ſelf. His Body being confined and at Reſt, gives greater Liberty to his Thoughts, not being diſtracted with that variety of new Objects. 'Tis well known that Anaxagoras, while in Priſon, writ a moſt excellent Treatiſe of the Quadrature of the Circle; That Socrates did not only act the Philoſopher, while confin'd, but compoſed alſo excellent Verſes; that Boetius never writ with a ſtronger Stile, nor more Elegantly than when in Chains, for this requires a Mind free from Hurry, Calm and Serene.

Moreover, ſome for the more exact compoſing of an excellent Treatiſe, have confin'd themſelves to their Houſes, from whence they could not eaſily be drawn out. A wiſe Man makes no great difference whether his Confinement be voluntary or compulſive. Do but conſider the multitude of Artizans and Scribes, who are Daily confin'd to their Shops, and tied as it were to their Seats, ſeem not in the leaſt troubled or concerned, becauſe they look not upon the place where they are thus fixt as a Priſon, but as their Dwelling and Abode. This Conſideration will cauſe a Man to undergo his Confinement more eaſily, becauſe he will look upon the Priſon as his Dwelling, and not as a Priſon. Beſides, when he reflects upon the many Religious who voluntarily confine themſelves in a Cloiſter, and there ſpend their Days very pleaſantly, he will begin to conſider that a Confinement in it ſelf is not ſo unſupportable as we Fancy. And thus when he ſees Men ſhut up in Priſon againſt their Wills, who at firſt are full of Complaints, and ready to be drown'd with Tears, yet after a few Days rejoice and take delight, ſporting with the reſt of their Companions; he would think it very ſtrange, that Wiſdom ſhould not have as great an influence on a Man of Underſtanding, as Cuſtom hath over a Man of meaner Parts. I need not mention here, that it is no new or extraordinary thing for good Men to be clapt up in Priſon; that there are many whoſe Virtue never appears more glorious than in Fetters and under Confinement, and when they are freed they return with ſo much Splendor and Advantage, that their very Confinement ſeems to be deſired.

THE ſame may be ſaid of Slavery. The Mind of a wiſe Man is too great to be brought under the Dominion of a Maſter. His Body, the meaneſt part may indeed be enſlaved, but for his Soul this noble and excellent part 'tis too much at liberty, and ſoars ſo high, that its out of the reach of any Fellow-Creature to catch at, to ſubject it to his Dominion. Every one knows how much Courage and Conſtancy of Mind Epictetus manifeſted, when he was obliged to be a Servant. And none can be Ignorant what anſwer Diogenes gave to thoſe who came to Buy him, and asked him what he could do? Said, That he knew how to command Men: And turning himſelf immediately to the Crier, he bid him cry out, If any would buy a Maſter: Afterwards, when he came to Xeniades, who was the Buyer, he ſpoke to him in this manner, Take heed what you do, for tho I am your Slave, you must hereafter obey me, as the Patient obeys the Phyſician, the Child its Governor; tho the Phyſician be Slave to the Patient, and the Governor to the Child.

Moreover, whereas the wiſe Man having long ſince conſidered and meditated upon the ſtate of Human Affairs, finds that he has not the Command of Fortune, but as Unhappineſs befals others, it may alſo light upon him. He underſtands likewiſe, that being Born a Man, he is ſubject to • ll Human Caſualties, and therefore ſtands always ready and prepared to receive all the Shocks of Fortune, ſo that there is none but he can with Patience ſubmit to, and thereby render it not only tolerable, but in ſome meaſure Eaſy and Pleaſant. If the Maſter commands, he obeys willingly; and as if he had undertaken the Task of his own accord, it is much at one to him if he does it by another's Command or out of his own Choice. He is glad he has Strength ſufficient to undergo what is commanded him, and an Opportunity offered of exerciſing a Faculty, which otherwiſe might become benumm'd and uſeleſs. He thinks himſelf happier than his Maſter, being only in ſubjection to his Will, and having nothing elſe to do but obey his Commands; whereas his Maſter remains under the Tyranny of many Maſters, more Cruel and Troubleſome, his Ambition, Envy, Anger and other Paſſions; ſo that in ſhort, he muſt needs be much the happier, being freed from a thouſand Cares and Diſtractions, which the other is daily liable to.

A Wiſe Man will ſtill more willingly bear Shame and Diſgrace, when it is thrown upon him, if he be ſatisfied of his own Innocence, and that he has no way juſtly deſerv'd it. For whether it conſiſts in being depriv'd of ſome publick Office, Honour or Imployment, even for this he may congratulate his good Fortune, in having an opportunity of retiring and leading a private and quiet Life, which otherwiſe he could not eaſily have obtain'd, tho perhaps he earneſtly deſir'd it. Or if it conſiſts in the Whiſperings and Reports that ariſe from among the People, he hath too great and noble a Soul to value ſuch Rumours. He knows the Temper of the Populace to be very mutable, that they will this Day applaud, what they will to Morrow decry, being never long pleaſed, but as we ſay, more fickle and unconſtant than the Moon. His Conſcience ſtands him inſtead of a thouſand Witneſſes; his ſatisfaction is, that he cannot juſtly charge himſelf with any Crime, with any Guilt.

In ſhort, if it conſiſts in the Calumnies and Slanders of envio •• •• d malicious Men, or in opprobrious and injurious Language; he is not of ſo mean a Spirit, as to be caſt down and diſcouraged; for he does not take them as Injuries done to himſelf, but gives them only the hearing, as if they concerned him not, as if they were related of ſome other, or of him who was the firſt Inventer. Therefore he who firſt unjuſtly rais'd em, has more reaſon to be concerned for falſly accuſing the Innocent; nor will he be a little diſſatisfied when he finds his miſchievous Intention thus diſappointed.

A wiſe Man further conſiders the great number of Fools there are in the World; and if he ſhould once think himſelf offended hereat, he would be deemed one of that Number, which muſt in no ſmall meaſure diſturb the quiet of his Mind. Therefore he Arms himſelf before-hand, againſt all ſuch kind of Affronts, by overlooking them; and thinks that he ought no more to be moved at the Revilings of evil Men, than the Moon is at the barking of the Dogs.

BUT what ſhall we ſay of the loſs of Children and Friends, and in one Word, of all that is dear to us? A wiſe Man will the leſs afflict himſelf, becauſe he knows that our Complaints, our Sighs, our Tears, and our Lamentations are uſeleſs; and that it is in vain to deal thus with Death, who is not to be prevailed upon, and never reſtores to us the Friends which it once ſnatches from us. Therefore he prepares himſelf early for ſuch Accidents which he knows may happen, that when they do, he may bear them with Courage, and not be afflicted in vain.

Beſides, he obſerves, That when w • are thus griev'd for the loſs of our Children or Friends, 'tis not for their ſakes, but for our own, that we thus lament and are troubled: For to be grieved becauſe they are ſafely arrived into the Haven, and are no more vexed with the Evils and Miſeries, unto which this Life is ſubject, this ſavours of Envy and Cruelty; and to be troubled becauſe they don't enjoy certain Pleaſures of this Life, is Weak and Ridiculous, becauſe they don't deſire or ſtand in the leaſt need of 'em, and therefore are not at all diſpleaſed, or ſo much as ſenſible, of being deprived of 'em. It makes therefore a very ſpecious ſhew, but at the ſame time is but a feigned and diſſembling ſort of Pity, with which we adorn our Grief when we declare that we are grieved for their ſakes, ſeeing that in reality 'tis for our own, becauſe for the time to come we ſhall be deprived of their Company; becauſe we ſhall receive no more kind Offices as formerly, no more Honour and Reſpect, but be deprived of every thing that might render them dear and acceptable unto us. Therefore a wiſe Man will think it unbecoming him to grieve in this manner for his own Intereſt, as if he would have had them live only for his private Ends, and ſo long only as they might be uſeful and ſerviceable to him; and not ſo long as the wiſe Diſpoſer of all Things had thought good and convenient for them to be.

Beſides, He may remember the time that he had no Children, and if it was not grievous then to be without them, ſo he ought not to think it ſo now he is deprived of 'em, ſeeing in reſpect of him, they are as when they were not. And if we grieve more for the privation of what we once poſſeſs'd, than to be without what we never had, this ſeems to ſavour a little of the Ingratitude of the Vulgar, who inſtead of being thankful for what they once enjoyed, are ſtill murmuring and repining becauſe they can enjoy it no longer. And he whom Death deprives of his Son, may with more comfort ſupport it, conſidering that he hath not loſt his Son, but yielded him back to the Author of Nature, who had lent him to him for a time and intruſted him with his Cuſtody; not for ever, but for a limited time. And if it be a Father who is dead, a wiſe Son will conſider, that he hath left him enough to make his Life eaſy, and preſerve him from want, if he hath left him only a Soul that can be content with little. And if it be a Friend, he will ſuppoſe that he hath ſtill ſo much Virtue as to procure another; ſo that he may think that he hath not ſo much loſt, as chang'd his Friend.

WHat ſhall we ſay likewiſe of the loſs of Riches? A wiſe Man will certainly ſo much the leſs concern himſelf, for that he will conſider, as we have elſewhere obſerved, That no Man becomes ſo Poor as to be deprived of the abſolute Neceſſaries of Life, ſeeing Nature places them within our reach in all parts of the World; and certainly he were much to be blamed that ſhould torment himſelf, for the loſs of that which is not abſolutely neceſſary to his well-being, and which he may live very well and happily without. Let what we have remaining be never ſo ſmall, we may always find a great number of Perſons, who have not ſo much, or perhaps no more, and yet without troubling themſelves, lead more contented Lives than rich Men generally do. Let them be never ſo Poor they Laugh and Rejoyce, and their Pleaſure is ſo much the greater, in that they are freed from thoſe Cares and Troubles which are inſeparable from Riches.

But ſuppoſe a Man's Fortune be changed to the greateſt diſadvantage, ſo that inſtead of a Palace, there remains nothing to him but a Cottage; inſtead of a Silk Garment, one of Wool; inſtead of Partridges, nothing but black Bread; inſtead of Wine, cold Water; inſtead of a Coach or Sedan, a Traveller's Staff; inſtead of a Golden or Silver Cup, nothing but an Earthen Veſſel, or the Palm of his Hand, and ſo of the reſt. Suppoſe I ſay all this, how many Examples can we produce of thoſe who have been ſatisfied with theſe mean Things, have laugh'd and deſpis'd that deceitful Splendor, and have ſpent their Days with more Pleaſure and Content, than thoſe who abounded with 'em?

And how many are there at preſent who live very contentedly and happily, after ſuch a change; nay, who willingly part with their Riches, to enjoy a more retir'd and contented way of Life? We need not therefore here enumerate thoſe primitive Philoſophers, who out of an Affection to Learning, and the Pleaſure of a free and contemplative Life, forſook their Riches, and embraced Poverty. For we have of late diſcovered whole Nations, who having no need of thoſe Goods that we call Riches, lead an innocent Life, like to that of our firſt Fathers, whoſe Times were ſtiled the Golden Age, and ſuppoſed to be the happieſt of all Ages.

But if you Fancy that it is more grievous to fall from a great and high Fortune, than to have always remained in a low Condition, 'tis eaſy to perceive that this is nothing but an Opinion; for in reſpect of the thing it ſelf, there is no difference if you have been Poor a long time, or if you are become ſo of late; unleſs perhaps you ſuppoſe that we are to think as Apicius did, who as Seneca reports, having amaſs'd a vaſt Eſtate together, alotted ſome Thouſands of Pounds for his Kitchen; but when upon making up his Accounts, he found that he had not above an Hundred thouſand Pounds remaining, poyſon'd himſelf to prevent Starving.

THat Retaliation, or as the Latins term it, Perpeſſio reciproca, a mutual Suffering, is no Right or Equity, ſimply ſo taken, whatever Pythagoras's Diſciples pretend to, who ſeem to approve of the Juſtice that is aſcribed to Radamanthus, Aequum jus fuerit, ſi quae egit, quis patiatur; To make a Man ſuffer the ſame Evil which he hath committed. The Reaſon of this is, becauſe Retaliation cannot be found in diſtributive Juſtice, where a reſpect is to be had to the Worth and to the Perſon. For Example, if a Magiſtrate ſtrikes any Body, he ought not therefore to be ſtruck in the ſame manner; and it would not be ſufficient that he who ſhould give a box on the Ear to a Magiſtate ſhould only receive ſuch another for it, but he ought to be puniſhed more ſeverely. I ſhall not here mention that a regard ought to be had chiefly to that which is done willingly, and that which is acted againſt our Will. Neither hath it any room in that part of Commutative Juſtice, which reſpects the Actions, and which is properly called Corrective; for if for a Tooth pull'd out we only pull out a Tooth, or an Eye for an Eye, we don't hereby do Right, becauſe there is no amends made for the Injury or Wrong done; but we muſt as much as is poſſible recompenſe the miſchief done, either by Mony, or ſome other expedient which the Judge ſhall think convenient. Therefore it may have place in the other part of Commutative Juſtice, which reſpects the Things, or the exchange made in recompence of it,

Ariſtotle obſerves in the ſecond Place, That for this kind of Juſtice there is nothing could be invented more convenient than Gold, Silver, or ſomething of like Value; for as human Society ſubſiſts by a neceſſary ſupply of one anothers Wants, we cannot otherwiſe redreſs this defect than by exchange or commutation, and that this is to be done by ſome equality that is to be found out. Now what equality can we find between two Things ſo different (for Example) as a Horſe and Box on the Ear. As therefore we cannot find any equality as to the Thing, nevertheleſs, as by Cuſtom we have made Mony an equivalent to every thing elſe, by this as by a common Meaſure we may adjuſt to every Man his due Right.

Thirdly, A Judge ought ſometimeis to do Right, not ſtrictly as the Law preſcribes, but as we uſually ſay, according to Equity, Ex aequo & bono. For as the Law orders nothing but under general Terms, and that often there happens particular Caſes, in which, becauſe of certain Circumſtances none can judge according to the ſtrict Letter of the Law without great Unjuſtice; For that Reaſon, ſaith he, If a Legiſlator hath omitted or failed in any thing which he hath abſolutely enjoyn'd, here we muſt ſupply what was defective in this Law-giver, and what he himſelf would have ordain'd by this Law if he had been now preſent, or had known of it before. Nay, the Interpreters of the Laws go yet farther, and ſay; If the Law had commanded that no Strangers ſhould walk upon the Bulwarks, we muſt not therefore put to death one who is gone thither to defend the Town, and repulſe the Enemy; for if the Law-giver had foreſeen ſuch a Caſe, he doubtleſs had made ſuch an Exception. For this Reaſon 'tis commonly ſaid, That under ſtrict and ſevere Laws we ought to implore the Aſſiſtance of the Judge, to make a reaſonable and equitable Conſtruction.

But to return to the Definition of Juſtice. As this part of the Definition, viz. To render to every one his Right, obliges us to underſtand and ſeek more at large what this Right is, and from whence it derives its Original: Let us conſider, firſt, that this word being taken in ſeveral ſenſes, its primitive Signification is, that Right is a Faculty to do ſomething, to have ſomething, to enjoy, and to do ones ſelf Right in ſomething; from thence we ſay, to keep, to retain, to recover, to purſue ones Right, to yield, to abate and ſurrender ones Right, to enjoy ones Right, or to be at our own Command, Eſſe ſui juris, &c. 'Tis alſo from hence that the Law, by a Metaphor, is called Right, becauſe it declares and preſcribes what belongs to every one as his Right, what Authority, Power and Command every one hath over any thing. And this by a like Metaphor, That we call Right the Court or Tribunal where Right is done; that is to ſay, where the Party injured hath his Right reſtor'd or Juſtice done him.

Nay, we may go yet farther, and ſay, That Right ſeems by conſequence to be originally more ancient than Juſtice; for as Juſtice is the ſame thing with that Affection or habitual Deſire or Inclination which we have to wrong no body, and that every one may enjoy their Right as we enjoy ours; 'tis certain, that this Juſtice ſuppoſeth that there is in other Men a Right, not depending upon it, and which nevertheleſs would be, tho' it ſelf were not in Being. Therefore it ſeems in the firſt place, we ought to acknowledge the Right that every one hath, tho' it be different from what Nature gives, or tho' it be by Contract or by Law. Secondly, That the Injury is nothing elſe but a Violation of this Right it ſelf. Thirdly, Juſtice, or the Will to render unto every one his own, which repairs the Wrong, reſtores Right, and gives the Title of Juſt to him who poſſeſſeth it. Fourthly, The Proceedings or Work of Juſtice, or the Right reſtored, which is alſo called Juſt, or that which is Juſt; Juſtice giving it that Denomination. But becauſe Epicurus, whom, both many of the ancient and modern Authors have followed, hath derived the very beginning of Right and whatever is agreeable with Equity, from Utility or Profit; let us liſten to what he ſays in the four following Paragraphs. 'Tis in this manner that he diſcourſes of Juſtice in general Terms.

AS Juſtice is a Virtue by which we render unto every one that which is his due, and by which we take heed not to wrong any body; 'tis certain, that in this reſpect it relates to, and reſpects other Men, and that it is convenient for Man as he is a Member, and lives in Society, it being the common Tie, without which 'tis impoſſible a Society ſhould ſubſiſt.

It hath this alſo in common with other Virtues, viz. Prudence, Temperance and Fortitude, that 'tis not to be ſeparated from Pleaſure; not only becauſe it injures no body, but alſo becauſe it ſettles the Mind at Reſt, either by its own natural Influence, or by the Aſſurance that nothing ſhall be wanting to us, which our Nature, not corrupted, can deſire.

And as Raſhneſs, Luxury and Cowardiſe diſturb and trouble the Mind, ſo from that very inſtant that Injuſtice hath taken Poſſeſſion of the Soul of a Man, he cannot be otherwiſe but troubled and uneaſie: Inſomuch, that if he hath undertaken any evil Action, tho' he hath done it never ſo ſecretly, yet he can never be aſſured that it will always remain ſo. And if there be any who by reaſon of their great Riches, fancy themſelves ſufficiently ſecur'd from the Inquiſition and Juſtice of Men, yet they are always afraid of a divine Vengeance; and they believe that this Uneaſineſs which Torments them Day and Night, is a Puniſhment that proceeds from the Appointment of the immortal Gods, who are offended and diſpleaſed with them.

And afterwards, ſays he, As to the Advantage which we receive from evil Actions, how inconſiderable are they to leſſen our Griefs, or to ſupport us under the Troubles of our Life? Do they not rather increaſe 'em by the remorſe of Conſcience, by the fear of the Laws, and by the hatred of our Neighbours? Nevertheleſs, ſome are unſatiable as to Mony, Honour, Authority, and preſcribe no limits to their Luxury, Debauchery and other Extravagancies, which the ill-gotten Goods do augment and increaſe more and more, rather than leſſen and appeaſe. Therefore it ſeems that all Rules and Precepts are uſeleſs to ſuch Men, and that there is nothing but Severity and Puniſhment that can reſtrain them.

Reaſon therefore invites them who are of ſound Senſe and Underſtanding, to the obſervation of Juſtice, Equity and Fidelity. Wicked Deeds are uſeful to no body, and Riches are convenient for none but for honeſt Men, and ſuch as have a Mind tending to Liberality; for they know thereby how to gain Mens Affections, and to make themſelves beloved, which tends very much to the ſecurity and quiet of our Lives; beſides, there is nothing that ought to oblige us to unjuſt Actions. The Deſires that proceed from Nature are eaſily to be ſatisfied; and for ſuch as are vain, fooliſh and needleſs, we ſhould not obey 'em. Theſe Deſires procure nothing worthy of our Affections, and the Wrong done to others, cauſes more Miſchief than we obtain Advantage by doing that Injury. Therefore if Juſtice of it ſelf, and by it ſelf is not deſirable, 'tis at leaſt deſirable for the ſake of the great Pleaſure and Satisfaction that it procures; for there is nothing more Pleaſant than to be beloved; becauſe that makes up the Society, and conſequently the Delights of Life. So that Wickedneſs is not only to be avoided, becauſe of the Puniſhments and the Miſchiefs that fall upon the Wicked; but chiefly alſo becauſe it never ſuffers our Minds to be at eaſe, but Poiſons all our Delights, and renders our Life miſerable. What I have here ſaid, may ſeem to be ſufficient; but I think I ſhall not do amiſs to add ſomething concerning that which we call Right or Juſt, from whence Juſtice derives its Name, that we may the better diſcover what the Origin of Right is, among what Nations it hath been received, and what are the Advantages that proceed from thence.

AS Juſtice hath been contrived and appointed for the Publick Good, it muſt needs follow that the Right and Equity which it chiefly reſpects, is Good for each individual Perſon that conſtitutes a Society: And becauſe every one deſires naturally that which is Good for himſelf, it muſt needs be, that what is Right or Juſt, is according to Nature, and by conſequence muſt be ſtiled Natural.

Now 'tis not without Reaſon that I mention this, becauſe it ſometimes happens that in the Government of Societies, ſome things are order'd as Right and Juſt, which nevertheleſs are not Good, nor the true Intereſt of a Society; and conſequently being not natural, but againſt Nature, ought not to be reputed Juſt, but only nominally ſo, or by miſtake; that which is truly Right and naturally Juſt being ſuch as 'tis ordained, that is to ſay, effectively Uſeful and Good. Therefore to ſpeak properly, Right or natural Equity is nothing elſe but what is mark'd out by Utility or Profit, or that Utility which, by common Agreement, hath been appointed that Men might not injure one another, nor receive any wrong, but live in ſecurity, which is a real Good, and therefore naturally deſired of every one.

I ſuppoſe therefore, that which is Profitable and that which is Good, to be but one and the ſame thing; and therefore to the making up of what is Juſt and Right, two things are prerequiſite: The Firſt, That it be Uſeful, or that it hath Uſefulneſs on its ſide. The Second, That it be preſcribed and ordained by the common Conſent of the Society; for there is nothing perfectly Juſt but what the Society by common Agreement or Approbation hath thought fit to be obſerved.

'Tis true, ſome are of Opinion, That what things are Juſt, are of their own Nature and unchangably ſo; and that the Laws do not make 'em Juſt, but that they only declare 'em and ordain 'em to be according to what they were naturally before: Nevertheleſs 'tis not ſo, but herein 'tis as in other things which are uſeful, ſuch as are thoſe that concern our Health, and a great many more ſuch like, wich are uſeful to ſome and hurtful to others, and conſequently vary from the End both in general and particular. And truly, as every thing ought always every where, and to every one appear ſuch as 'tis by Nature, becauſe Nature never changes and is unalterable in all Occurrences; pray tell me if the things that ſome name Juſt, be every where, at all times and in reſpect of all Perſons, really Juſt? Are we not to conſider that what is ordained and eſtabliſhed by Laws, and what is conſequently Lawful and Juſt, is not ordained nor admitted among all Nations, but that ſome look upon 'em as indifferent, and others reject 'em as prejudicial and unjuſt? Are there not ſome who hold generally for uſeful that which nevertheleſs is not ſo; and thus receive things which are not generally convenient, only becauſe that they ſeem ſo to them, or to their Society, and appear to have ſome general Utility or Advantage belonging to 'em?

We may then ſay, for the moſt part, that that is univerſally Juſt or agreeable with the Nature of Juſt, which is uſeful or conformable to the Notion of Juſt that we have now given. For to ſpeak more particularly, as Utility is otherwiſe, and differing among the ſeveral Nations, ſo likewiſe what is Juſt differs in the ſame manner; ſo that what we fancy to be Juſt, others look upon it as Unjuſt. This being ſo, when we enquire whether Juſt and Right is the ſame among all Nations, I anſwer, that univerſally 'tis ſo; that is, ſomething that is uſeful in the mutual Society; but if we look to Particulars, and conſider the ſeveral ſorts of People, and the diverſity of Circumſtances, we ſhall find that 'tis not the ſame every where.

In a word, a thing is and ought to be reputed Juſt, or to have the Qualities of Juſt in a Society, if its Uſefulneſs reſpects all the Individuals aſſociated; but if it be not ſo, 'tis not properly to be called Juſt, nor deſerves to be ſo eſteemed. So that if a Thing or an Action having been uſeful in a Society, if by any Accident or by any Alteration this Uſefulneſs begins to ceaſe, that thing will alſo ceaſe from being Juſt, it being no longer ſo than only while it continues uſeful and profitable to Society. And thus I ſuppoſe every one will judge, who ſuffers not himſelf to be miſled and blinded by vain and frivolous Diſcourſes, but has a general Reſpect to all things.

BUt to begin the Matter a little higher, and trace it from its firſt Source. Right, Equity or Juſtice ſeem to be as ancient among Men, even as mutual Societies are.

For in the beginning, when Men were Vagabonds, wandering up and down like Brutes, and ſuffered many Inconveniences from thoſe ſalvage Creatures, and the Rigour of the Seaſons, ſome natural Inclination which they had for one another, by reaſon of the ſimilitude and mutual Reſemblance of Bodies as well as Souls or Manners, inclined 'em to unite together in ſmall Societies, the better to prevent in ſome meaſure ſuch like Inconveniences, by Building Cottages, and ſo thereby ſtrengthning themſelves againſt the Cruelty of wild Beaſts and the Severity of the Weather. But becauſe every one more regarded his own private Benefit than that of another, this begot many Quarrels in reference to Eating and Drinking, and upon the account of Women, and other Conveniences of Life, which they daily robb'd and forcibly depriv'd one another of, until ſuch time as they began to conſider that they could not ſubſiſt quietly, or live ſecurely and conveniently, unleſs they made ſome Contracts, and agreed among themſelves to do no Injury one to another; ſo that if any wrong'd his Neighbours, the reſt were to puniſh him for it.

AS after all that hath been ſaid, it may be queſtioned among whom Right and the violation of Right, and conſequently Juſtice and Injuſtice, which are Oppoſites, take place: This, in my Judgment, is to be underſtood by comparing Men with other Animals.

Therefore as there is no kind of Right and Injury, of Juſt or Unjuſt between the reſt of Animals, becauſe it was not poſſible to make any agreement between them, that they ſhould do no Miſchief to one another: So there ought not to be between the Nations which could not or would not make any ſuch Compact, to do no wrong one to another.

JƲſtice having been eſtabliſhed by a common Agreement, every one ought to think that he is born and admitted into the Society whereof he is a Member, upon this Condition, either expreſs or underſtood, That he ſhall do wrong to no Man, nor no Man to him; and thus we muſt either keep to this Agreement, or depart out of the Society, ſeeing that he is ſuffered there but upon the ſame Condition that he was admitted: From whence it follows, that as naturally he don't deſire to be evilly dealt withal, he ought not to deal ill with others, nor do to others what he would not that others ſhould do to him.

This being granted, we may ſay, that the Laws have been eſtabliſhed in favour, and for the ſake of wiſe Men, not to hinder them from committing Injuſtice, but to prevent others from doing them wrong; for of their own accord they are ſo inclined, that if there were no Laws they would injure no body; for they have limited their Deſires, and confined them to the neceſſities of Nature; to ſupply which there is no need of doing Injuſtice, for there is no Pleaſure Nature allows of which will cauſe us to wrong any body; for thoſe exorbitances and irregular Deſires which proceed from our vain and unruly Paſſions and Luſts, are the only Cauſes of Miſchief.

AS 'tis one thing to do an unjuſt Act, another to do an injury, ſeeing that a Man may do an unjuſt Act, and not believe it, or perhaps fancying it to be Juſt: So it is moſt certain, that we can do no injury but when we have a deſign to do it, and ſo he who doth it hurts wilfully; that is to ſay, knowing to whom, in what manner, and how he injures. From whence it follows, that becauſe 'tis one thing to ſuffer an unjuſt Act, or to receive Damage, and another to ſuffer an injury, a Man may willingly ſuffer an unjuſt Act but not ſuffer an injury. For that Reaſon Ariſtotle obſerves that we define a Man who doth an injury; He who hurts, knowing to whom, in what manner, and how he hurts; yet that is not ſufficient, but we muſt add this particular, Againſt the Will of him whom he hurts. This being ſuppoſed in the firſt place, 'tis impoſſible that we ſhould do injury to our ſelves, or that a Man ſhould receive an injury from himſelf; for a Man may do a damage to himſelf and act againſt his own advantage, but not do an injury, becauſe the ſame Perſon is both Agent and Patient, he acts and ſuffers willingly. But we muſt nevertheleſs remember what we have already ſaid, and ſhall have occaſion to mention again hereafter, That he who wiſhes Evil to himſelf, as he who deſires his own death or kills himſelf, wiſhes for it not as an Evil; he deſires not death, as it is the deſtruction of Life, but as it is ſome Advantage; that is to ſay, as 'tis the end of the Evils from which he deſires to be delivered, and ſo he looks upon it as a conſiderable Benefit. It is likewiſe certain, according to that kind of Maxim, Volenti non fit injuria, that no injury can be done to him who conſents and approves of it. For as we have already ſaid, no man can ſuffer an injury but againſt his Will, becauſe as the injury is in it ſelf an Evil, it cannot be look'd upon as Good or the cauſe of any Good. 'Tis true, it may be a Crime in him who takes the Goods of another, though this other by miſtake may ſeem to be conſenting to it; as for Example, If he be frightned into a Conſent under ſome pretence, if he be deluded into it by fair Promiſes, if he be flatter'd into it by Craft, if he works upon his Weakneſs or the eaſineſs of his Temper, or if he conceals from him the true Value of the thing, without afterward informing him of his Error, and ſo of the reſt; but as for him who knowingly and willingly gives away his Goods, conſents that they may be taken; this Man cannot be judged to receive an injury, but a damage.

But ſince both doing and ſuffering injury is an Evil, if you inquire which of the two is the worſt, Ariſtotle will readily reſolve you, that it is in doing an injury, for that cannot be done without Injuſtice. Therefore Plato gives us this Advice, That we ſhould be more careful to avoid doing an injury than ſuffering it. Beſides, tho' he who receives any damage, tho' he receives it not againſt his Will, he who doth the miſchief or wrong, if he deſigns to do an injury, is not in ſuch a caſe excuſable, becauſe it was not for want of his Will that the damage did not prove an injury. Seneca explains this matter very well: It may happen, ſaith he, that a Man may offer me an injury, and that I may not receive it; as if any one ſhould put into my Houſe what he had taken out of my Farm, he had been guilty of a Theft, and yet I may have loſt nothing thereby. If any one lies with his own Wife, and believes her to be the Wife of another, he is an Adulterer though the Woman be not. Some body hath given me Poiſon, but as it happens to be mixed with other Ingredients, it hath loſt its Operation; he who hath adminiſtred the Poiſon is a Murderer, though no miſchief is done by it. All deſigned Crimes are in reſpect of the Sin, done and effected before the act is accompliſhed.

THE Third Virtue that belongs to Juſtice, is that which Cicero calls Obſervance, by which we are inclined to reverence and reſpect thoſe who are raiſed above us in Dignity, exceed us in Age, or excel us in Wiſdom. For as Dignity or Beneficence are the occaſion of Reverence and Honour, and that thoſe who are promoted to Dignities are deemed worthy, and ſeem as it were born and deſigned for the publick Good, either by governing or conducting the People, or by compoſing their Differences and Sutes, or by defending them from the Enemy, or by procuring the publick Safety or Plenty; by this 'tis certain that we ought to Honour and Reſpect them, and the rather, becauſe if this were not performed, there would be no body to take upon 'em the neceſſary Cares and Troubles of managing the publick Concerns, which would be at length the cauſe of confuſion and diſorder, which in this caſe by paying a due deference and reſpect, may in a great meaſure be prevented.

'Tis unqueſtionable alſo that old Age is of it ſelf Venerable, becauſe it hath the experience of Things, and conſequently hath that Prudence, that it is able to adviſe young People, and direct 'em for their good. Young Folk, ſaith Sopater in Stobaeus, ought to Honour them who are their Elders, make choice of the honeſteſt and moſt experienced, follow their Counſel and rely upon their Authority. 'Tis for this Cauſe that the great Captain of the Greeks had always a greater reſpect for Neſtor than for the reſt, and rather wiſhed to find out Ten like Neſtor than like Ajax. But old Age will be ſo much the more worthy of Honour and Veneration, when it ſhall not only be adorn'd with gray Hairs, but with Wiſdom and Prudence; when it is able to afford good Advice, and that it is become commendable by its Virtues, and by its good Deeds.

Laſtly, It is manifeſt that we ought to have Reſpect and Veneration for thoſe who are Wiſe or Virtuous, ſeeing that Wiſdom or Virtue is the true and ſolid Foundation of all Honour that is rendered. Indeed Virtue alone, as they ſay, is its own ſufficient Reward: But tho thoſe who are Virtuous ſeek not to draw from thence Honour and Reſpect, yet they who know them to be ſuch, are obliged to pay this Deference to 'em, otherwiſe they would not do Right and Juſtice to their Merits, and give a due eſtimate to that which of all Things in the World is the moſt valuable, Potior est illa Argento Auro que puriſſimo. This the wiſe Man aſcribes to Virtue; 'tis of more worth than Gold and the fineſt Silver; 'tis more precious than all the Pearls and Jewels; yea, than all that is deſirable: There is nothing to be compared with it.

NOW, let us ſay ſomething in the laſt Place of Gratitude: 'Tis not without cauſe that Cicero inſinuates, that it alone comprehends Religion, and the other Virtues that we have mentioned; for this Paſſage we read in his Oration for Plantius, Truly, ſaith he, I would willingly be endowed with all the Virtues, but there is none that I would more earneſtly deſire than to be Thankful. This Virtue is not only the principal, but alſo the Mother of all other Virtues; for what is Piety but a kind and grateful Inclination towards our Parents? Who are the good and generous Citizens, who in times of War and Peace offer themſelves for their Country's ſake, but they who are mindful of the Obligations they owe to their Country? Who are the true and real Saints, the obſervers of the Laws and Religion, but thoſe who never forgetting the favours of the immortal Gods, yeild to them the Worſhip and Honours due to 'em? What Pleaſure can there be in Life when Friendſhip is baniſhed, and what Friendſhip can there be among the Ungrateful? This being granted, we muſt conſequently ſuppoſe Gratitude to be our chief Duty: For tho he who gives pretends to nothing elſe than giving, nevertheleſs he ſeems to expect that he who is thereby obliged ſhould acknowledge the Favour; and if he don't, he will be unjuſt. In Truth, tho the Donor expects no reward, yet he who receives the Kindneſs is not therefore free from the Ingagement that lies upon him to recompenſe his Benefactor by all good Offices. Certainly if Heſiod will have us return, as we ſay, with Uſury, the Things that have only been lent us for a time, With how much greater Reaſon, ſaith Cicero, ought we to be thankful when we have received more ſignal Obligations? Ought we not to imitate thoſe fruitful Fields, that return much more than they receive? And if we are Officious to them from whom we expect good Deeds, how much more ought we to be to them who have already been kind to us and obliged us? There are two ſorts of Liberality, the one is to give, the other to reſtore; 'tis in our Power to give or not to give; but not to reſtore, is a thing not to be allowed of in an honeſt Man. But ſuppoſe a Perſon is incapable you'l ſay: Seneca anſwers, That he who is willing to return a good Deed, does in effect do it, for his good Will is a ſufficient diſcharge of his Obligation. He ſaith moreover, That they who are obliged, may not only equal but alſo ſurpaſs in good Will and Generoſity, thoſe who give; we may reward alſo the greateſt Princes, Lords and Kings; either by affording to them faithful Counſel, or by a conſtant attendance, and by a pleaſing Converſe free from Flattery, and yet delightful, or by a ſerious Attention to what they propoſe when they conſult about difficult Affairs, or by a conſtant Fidelity when they intruſt any Secret. Propoſe the richeſt and the happieſt Man in the World, I will tell you what he wants, viz. a cordial Friend to whom he may impart his moſt ſecret Thoughts. Don't you perceive how great Men by confining the liberty of thoſe who attend 'em, and limiting their Truſt to certain ſlaviſh Offices, loſe and caſt themſelves away, becauſe no Body about 'em dares freely impart their Thoughts, either to incline them to what is for their advantage, or to perſuade them from what tends to their hurt. There is no Miſchief nor Calamity but they are liable to, from the very Moment that they are barr'd from hearing the Truth. You may ask, What good you can do to a proſperous Perſon? Perſuade him not to truſt to his Proſperity. Will it not be a good Office that you do him, when you ſhall cauſe him to quit this fooliſh Confidence, and let him ſee that this Power that he has, may not always continue the ſame. And that the Things that Fortune beſtows are flitting and inconſtant, oftner flying away faſter than they come. You don't underſtand the value and true worth of Friendſhip, if you don't perceive that in beſtowing a Friend, you beſtow the moſt excellent Gift the World can afford, and who is never more uſeful and neceſſary than where all Things are in great plenty and abundance.

But not to inſiſt longer upon this: Ariſtotle offers two or three Queſtions upon this Point. Firſt, Whether Beneficence is to be eſteemed or valued according to the advantage of him who receives, or according to the Liberality of him who beſtows it. He Anſwers, That in the Kindneſſes that are done for advantage, and which are grounded upon Profit, theſe are to be valued by the advantage of him who receives 'em, becauſe he is in want, and he who does them performs 'em but upon Condition to have the ſame returned. But in Friendſhips and Kindneſſes that are eſtabliſhed upon Virtue, we muſt meaſure or compute the good Deed by the good Will of the Donor, becauſe where Virtue is concerned, the intention is chiefly to be conſidered; therefore whether any gives much or little, the Gift or Kindneſs is to be eſteem'd great, for the great Affection or extraordinary good Will of the Party giving.

The Second Queſtion, Why thoſe who give, have a greater affection for the Party they give to, than the other hath for the giver. To this he Anſwers, That the cauſe is not as ſome ſuppoſe, for that the Donor is as the Creditor, and the other as the Debtor, and becauſe the Debtor wiſhes for the Death of the Creditor, but the Creditor the Life and Health of the Debtor; but becauſe the Benefactor is as the Artificer, who loves more his own Works than they ſhould be otherwiſe beloved again if they were alive, which is to be ſeen among Poets, who love the Offspring of their Brain as tenderly as the Offspring of their Body. And they who receive a good Deed, are as it were, the handy Work of him who gives.

The Third, Why there is no Law to indite an ungrateful Perſon? This Crime, ſays he, which is univerſal, is truly puniſhed by none, tho diſapproved by all. But as the valuation of an uncertain Thing would be very difficult, we have only condemned it to an univerſal diſlike and hatred, leaving it among thoſe Things which we have referred to the Juſtice and Vengeance of the Gods. Beſides, 'tis not convenient that all ungrateful Perſons ſhould be known, leſt the vaſt number of thoſe who are ſtained with this Vice, ſhould leſſen the Shame of the Crime; and laſtly, 'tis no ſmall Puniſhment, that an ungrateful Perſon dares not deſire a good turn from another whom he has diſobliged, and that he is taken notice of, and condemn'd by all the World.

As to what remains to be treated of here concerning Affability, ſweetneſs of Temper, Civility and ſuch like Virtues, they may be ſufficiently underſtood by what hath been mentioned already about Gentleneſs and Mildneſs. We ſhall finiſh this Treatiſe with a Paſſage out of Seneca, which contains the Sum of all moral Duties. What do we do, ſaith he, what Precepts do we enjoyn? What a ſmall matter is this, not to hurt him whom we ought to ſerve! This is a worthy buſineſs indeed, for a Man to be kind and loving to his Fellow-Creature! Shall we make Laws for a Man to hold out his helping Hand to one Shipwreckt and ready to ſink; or to direct him that is wandring and hath loſt his Way; or to divide our Bread to him that periſheth for Hunger? To what purpoſe is it to reckon at large what is to be done, ſeeing I can comprehend the whole Duties of Mankind in few Words? This great All which thou ſeeſt, and which contains all Things divine and human is but One; we are the Members of this great Body. Nature hath made us all Related and a Kin, by bringing us forth from the ſame Principles and of the ſame Elements. 'Tis Nature hath given us a mutual Affection and Love, and for the ſame Ends. 'Tis Nature hath eſtabliſhed what is right, juſt and equitable to its Law. 'Tis a greater Evil to be the cauſe of Wrong than to ſuffer it. Nature commands that our Hands ſhould be always ready to afford aſſiſtance. Let this be always in our Heart, and at our Lips, Homo ſum, humani nihil à me alienum puto. I am a Man, and think my ſelf obliged to all the Duties of Humanity

LAſtly, for the Oracles and thoſe Predictions that are aſcribed to the Sybils and to the Prophets, when they were poſſeſs'd with a divine Fury that diſturb'd them, cauſed their Colour and Countenance to change, their Head and Breaſt to ſwell in ſuch a manner that they were quite out of breath, and as it were ready to expire, as Virgil excellently repreſents it: —Thus while ſhe laid, And ſhivering at the ſacred Entrance ſtaid, Her Colour chang'd, her Face was not the ſame And hollow Groans from her deep Spirit came: Her Hair ſtood up; convulſive Rage poſſeſs'd Her trembling Limbs, and heav'd her labouring Breaſt; Greater than Human Kind ſhe ſeem'd to look, And with an Accent more than Mortal ſpoke: Her ſtaring Eyes with ſparkling Fury roul, When all the Gods came ruſhing on her Soul.

I ſhall not ſay that this kind of Fury ſeems not becoming the Divine Majeſty, and therefore Cicero hath great cauſe to ſpeak of it in theſe words; What Reaſon or Authority can you produce for this Divine Fury? Can it be ſuppos'd, that what a wiſe Man cannot foreſee, a Fool or a Man depriv'd of his Senſes ſhould be able to diſcover? I ſhall only obſerve ſome Particulars that will diſcover to us the Vanity and Folly of the thing: The firſt is the affectation of delivering their Oracles in Verſe and not in Proſe. We have already obſerved that the Diſciples of Epicurus made but a ſport of thoſe Verſes, as being ridiculous and unworthy of the Divinity: In this manner Cicero ſpeaks of them, Theſe Verſes which they ſay the Sybil in her fury made and pronouc'd, ſavour more of Cunning and Subtilty, than of Tranſport and Diſturbance of Mind; for the Author who compos'd them, hath artificially contrived, that whatſoever happen'd, it will ſeem to be thereby foretold, for they expreſs nothing preciſely nor plainly, neither of Men nor Times; but have deſignedly made them obſcure, that they might ſeem at another time to be fit for other purpoſes; all which does not denote a Perſon in furious Tranſports, but one who is ſenſible and cautious of what he doth or ſaith.

The Second particular is this Amphibologia, or manner of delivering theſe Oracles with a double Signification, which Savours of a Subtilty that is no greater than what belongs to Man. Beſides among many of thoſe who are moſt Famous, there are ſeveral that are forged and invented meerly for Pleaſure. For Example in relation to theſe.

Cicero informs us that the Firſt was never given to Croeſus, and that Herodotus may have invented it of his own Head, as Ennius contrived the latter. And eſpecially as to the latter, for that it was certainly forged at pleaſure, and that it was never delivered to Pyrrhus, becauſe Apollo never ſpoke in Latin, and that in the Days of Pyrrhus, Apollo had left off making Verſes.

The third particular is the Juggling or Forgeries related at large by Euſebius, which prove that the Oracles were never delivered by the Gods or by the Demons, but that they were contrived by cunning Knaves, Cheats and Impoſtors; as Lucian very well obſerved, when he tells us by what means he himſelf diſcovered all the Subtilty by which the falſe Prophet, Alexander, had made himſelf ſo famous in the Oracle. He ſaith moreover, that this falſe Prophet hated very much the Chriſtians and the Epicureans, becauſe they maintained, that the Oracles were nothing but meer Lies. In this manner Euſebius ſpeaks of them; They have among them Promoters and Miniſters of their Cheats and Tricks, who walk up and down and round about to inquire diligently, and ask thoſe who came, for what purpoſe and upon what occaſion every one comes to conſult the Oracle: They have in their Temples a great many dark Corners and Places to retreat and hide, where the People are not to enter, and where they place themſelves to hear what is ſpoken, without being ſeen. So that the Darkneſs of the place, the Precaution, the Superſtition of thoſe that come, and the Authority of the Ancients who have believed in theſe Oracles, are of great uſe to 'em: We might add alſo the Folly and Stupidity of the People, who never try nor examin things, and the Dexterity, the Cunning and Subtilty of thoſe who manage the Buſineſs, and who promiſe to every one pleaſing Things, and entertain all the World with fair Hopes, &c.

He relates afterwards their ambiguous manner of ſpeaking, their unuſual and barbarous Words, and the affected compoſure of their Expreſſions, how often the Oracles have been proved guilty of Falſhood, and how often thoſe who by their Advice have undertaken Wars, and have met with very ill Succeſs; how many Perſons they have deluded, unto whom they promiſed Health and Proſperity: And after his Concluſion from hence, that they were no Gods but Impoſtors, who uttered theſe Oracles, he continues and goes on thus, But why do you think it is that they thus court Strangers, and give them ſuch great Encouragments, more than the Inhabitants of the Place, who are their Friends or Fellow-Citizens, unto whom they ſhould conſequently endeavour to render the Gods more Propitious than to others who are no ways related to them? The Reaſon is plain; for it is much more eaſy to deceive Strangers, who underſtand not their Jugglings, than Neighbours who are acquainted with all their ſlights and cunning. This ſhews ſufficiently that there is nothing here Divine, nothing that is above the Reach and Contrivance of Man.

Afterwards he reckons up ſeveral Oracles that have faltred, and divers of their Temples that have been burned; and then argues from thence, If theſe wonderful Utterers of Oracles are not able to protect their own Temples nor defend themſelves in time of Danger, how can they defend others? But the ſtrongeſt Reaſon of all is, that many of theſe Diviners, Sooth-ſayers and Fortune-tellers having been by the Ancients examined, and more lately by the Romans, have plainly diſcovered the Truth, and declared that the Miſtake proceeded from the too eaſie credulity of Men, and that all was nothing but Subtilty and Cheat. We are not here to forget, that after Euſebius had made mention of the Diſciples of Ariſtotle, and of the Cynicks, ſays as to the Epicureans, That he wonder'd at them, becauſe being bred from their Cradle, after the manner of the Greeks, and inſtructed by their Parents in the Belief and Doctrins of the Gods; they nevertheleſs would not ſuffer themſelves to be cheated by Miſtakes, but have boldly declared their Sentiments againſt ſuch Oracles, tho' they were then very famous and much frequented from all parts of the World, proteſting that they were meer Cheats and Impoſtures, and making it appear that they were not only fooliſh, idle, and vain, but alſo wicked.