L'Amour de la Verite

MORAL REFLECTION [...]

Moral Maxims AND Reflections, In Four PARTS.

Written in French by the Duke of ROCHEFOƲCAƲLT.

Now made English.

LONDON, Printed for M. Gillyflower in Westminster-Hall, R. Sare at Grays-Inn-Gate, and J. Everingham in Ludgate street, 1694.

THE Translator's Preface.

AS soon as this little Book fell into my Hands, I could not forbear making Enquiry, whether any of our Countrymen had done the good Service of communicating it to the English Readers. The Entertainment it gave me, the exceeding Characters I had heard of it, (which indeed I thought Extravagant, till my own Perusal convinced me, they were it's just due) and the desire of mak­ing these wise Observations, and the Ad­vantages of them more diffusive, as well as that of impressing them more strongly upon my self, moved me to resolve upon spending some leisure hours in Natura­lizing this Great Foreigner. But the Undertaking soon appeared more difficult▪ than the Proportion of the Book tempted [Page] me to expect. For the Translating every where literally and concisely, would have left some Passages Dark and scarce Intelli­gible. And a loose Paraphrase (besides that it is a Liberty not to be indulged, except in Cases of great Necessity) would take off from the Beauty and Strength of such Reflections; the very design of which Requires a short Close Style. With what success I have endeavoured to decline both these Extreams, the Judicious Reader will discern better, because more imparti­ally than I can; and the Failings he dis­covers, will, I promise my self, be easily forgiven, for the sake of so good a De­sign, as the giving him this Ingenious Book in our own Language. For it is to be hoped, he will think it more par­donable, that this is done now by a very indifferent and unknown Hand, than that it hath not had this Right done it, by some of the best and most Eminent, be­fore.

Mrs. Behn indeed hath attempted part of it, but she seems not to have intended a perfect Work, so much as the Enter­taining [Page] her Self and her Lysander, with such Passages as were most applicable to her Darling Passion of Love. Upon which occasion and some others, she takes the Freedom of Paraphrasing, and Ac­commodating as she saw fit, more per­haps to her own Diversion, than the do­ing Justice to the Author. And besides Her's is only a Collection of some scattered Reflections out of the First and Second, without any Notice taken of the Third and Fourth Parts.

This Translation follows the Edition of Lyons 1691. But because there is a­nother of the same Year at Paris, without any distinction of Parts, in which there are several Additions, to what my Origi­nal hath in the two first Books, I have taken care to subjoyn those Additions at the end of the second Part here; and be­lieve that in Comparing the two Books together none will be found to have e­scaped me, nor any other difference be­tween them now remaining, except in the Order of the Reflections. The Passages added are likewise Numbred according to [Page] the Paris Edition, from whence they are taken. The French Preface to the Rea­der Translated from thence, because something larger; and referring particu­larly to a Discourse upon these Reflecti­ons, wholly wanting in the Impression at Loyns. That Discourse (Englished by another Hand) is likewise inserted here, the design whereof is to remove some Objections, to which this Book hath been thought liable. So that all due care hath been taken that this Translation might have it's utmost Perfection, and the Author now appears in English more full, and with much greater Advantage, than any Edition of his, that ever I yet saw in the Original Language.

THE PREFACE TO THE READER.

THE General Approbation which the Publick has been pleased to give these Mo­ral Reflections, is infinitely above what I am able to say in their Fa­vour; and if they are really of that intrinsic Value, as I take them to be, and have very good Reasons to believe, 'tis almost impossible to do them a greater injury, than to ima­gine they stand in need of an Apology.

[Page] I shall at present content my self to remark too things; First, That by the word Interest, our Author does not always understand what we commonly call worldly Interest, which has the pursuit of Wealth for its on­ly Object, but an Interest of Honour and Glory. My Second Remark is, (and 'tis in a manner the Foundati­on of all these Reflections) that the judicious person who made them, only considers Mankind in the present De­plorable State of Nature, as 'tis o­ver-run with Ignorance and corrupted by Sin; and therefore whatever he says of that infinite number of de­fects that are to be found in their apparent Vertues, does not in the least concern those Happy but few fa­vourites whom Heaven is pleased to preserve from them by a particular Grace.

[Page] To remove the prejudices which some well meaning▪ People have en­tertained against these Maxims, I thought it convenient to insert the following Letter, which lately fell in­to my Hands, and was Written since the first Edition of this Manuscript; and now at this juncture, when every Reader takes the freedom to pass his own judgment upon them, it comes out very seasonably to clear the prin­cipal Difficulties that may be urged against these Reflections, as also to explain the true Sentiments of our Author. This at least it has perfor­med, it has abundantly Demonstra­ted them to contain nothing but a pure Abridgment of Morality, con­formable to several Fathers of the Church, and that the Person who Writ them, had a great deal of rea­son to believe, that he could not well miss his way in following such Expe­rienced [Page] and Disinterested Guides. And lastly, that he had full Liberty to speak of Man after the very same manner as the Fathers had done be­fore him.

Now after all, if the Veneration which is due to these Illustrious Lights of the Church, is not suffici­ent to stop the Mouths of the Cri­ticks; but they are resolved in Op­position to good Manners and Sense, to condemn the Opinion of these Great Men, in condemning this Book, I wou'd advise the Reader not to be in­fluenced by such partial Judges, nor suffer himself to be determined by the first Motions he finds arise in his Heart, and to take all imaginable care that Self-love shall have no share in the judgment which he passes upon them; for if he suffers himself to be Directed by so corrupt a Counsellor, it is not to be supposed that he will [Page] shew any great favour to these Maxims. As they particularly charge Self-love with Debauching the Reason, that powerful Seducer will be sure by way of Requital, to prepossess the Mind a­gainst them. Ʋpon this score, the Reader ought to take care that this prevention or prejudice shall not justifie the Truth of them, and to perswade himself that nothing can so effectually Establish the truth of these Reflections, as that Heat or Subtilty he expresses in com­bating them. But as it will be a dif­ficult matter to perswade every sensi­ble Man that he cannot condemn them out of any other Motive than that of Interest disguised, of Pride, and Self-love; the best way the Reader can take in my Opinion, is to satisfie him­self that none of these Maxims con­cern him in particular, and that he alone is excepted from them, although they seem to be General. After he [Page] has done this, I dare Answer for him that he will be the first Man that shall Subscribe to the truth of them, and what is more, believe that they are of mighty benefit to the World in Discovering all the weaknesses and Foibles of Mankind.

As for what regards the order of these Reflections, the Reader will at first view discover that as they are all upon different matters, it was in a manner impossible to place them in an exact Method. And tho' there are several upon the same Subject, it was not judged à propos to place them always one after another for fear of Disgusting the Reader, who is generally best entertained with an a­greeable Variety.

A Discourse upon the Re­flections, or Sentences, and Moral Maxims, in a Letter to a Friend.

Sir,

I Am not able positively to tell you whether the Moral Reflections were Writ by Monsieur De—altho the Stile and Manner of them seem to resemble his. But give me leave, Sir, to tell you, that upon these occasions, I generally disengage my self from popular Reports, and 'tis enough to make me believe, that they do not belong to him, because the publick o­pinion has father'd them upon him. Thus I have fairly and ingenuously an­swer'd your first Question, and as for the rest, if you had not an absolute [Page] Authority over me, which I must ne­ver Dispute, I should wave a farther Examination of them; for a man so highly prepossess'd, as I am, in his e­steem for this Work, has not that li­berty to judge truly of it as is requi­site; nevertheless since you have been pleased to order it so, I will frankly give you my Opinion without any de­sign, to set up for a maker of Disserta­tions, or concerning my self with the Person who is supposed to have Writ this Book. 'Tis easie to discover at first Sight, that it was never designed to visit the World, but only Writ for the Satisfaction of a Person, who in my Opinion does not Aspire to the Glo­ry of being an Author; and if it should happen to belong to Monsieur De —, I can assure you, that his Re­putation is Established in the World by so many better Titles, that he wou'd be no less disturbed to hear that these [Page] Reflections are made publick, than he was when the Memoirs that were attributed to him were Printed. But, Sir, you need not be informed what a propensity there is in this Age to pub­lish all manner of Novelties, and espe­cially those that go under any celebra­ted Name, which of it self is suffici­ent to recommend them to the World. This you know is an undoubted Truth, Names alone, set a price upon things with those People that are not in a ca­pacity of finding out their intrinsic value. The true merit of these Refle­ctions is understood but by a very few People, tho 'tis certain that abundance of presuming Wou'd-be-Wits pretend to give you their Opinions of them. As for my self, I don't pretend to have Delicacy and Penetration enough to form a true judgment of them; I say, Delicacy and Penetration, because to qualifie a man for such a Province, he [Page] must be master both of one and the o­ther; and tho it were possible for me to flatter my self, that I possessed both these qualities, I am inclined to be­lieve that I should find but very few passages in these Reflections to a­mend. I can there discover nothing but a happy Force and Spirit, thoughts truly Elevated and Bold, a noble turn of Expression accompanied with a cer­tain air of Quality, that does not be­long to all that have vanity enough to set up for Authors. I own indeed there is not that Order and Art in them which one would desire, and that a Learned Man, who enjoyed a greater share of leisure than our Au­thor's affairs seem to allow him, wou'd have thrown them into a better Me­thod. But a Man who purely Writes for himself, and to divert his mind after the fatigue of other Business, who sets down his Thoughts just as they [Page] come into his Head, does not so reli­giously observe the niceties of Rules, as they who make a profession and bu­siness of Writing, and hope to get re­putation by their Pens. Neverthe­less this Irregularity has its peculiar Graces, and such Graces too as Art can never imitate. I don't know whe­ther you will agree with me in this point, but tho' I am sure of incurring the Indignation of the Criticks by what I am going to say, yet I cannot forbear to affirm to you, that as long as I live, I shall make no scruple to prefert the easie negligent stile of per­sons of Condition, which has Wit and Spirit in it, to the slavish regularity of a Doctor that never conversed with any thing but his Books.† The more [Page] easie and negligent he appeared in whatever he said or did, the more agreeably was it received for its natural and simple Air. I borrow this passage out of Tacitus, and have set down the Latin in the Margin, that if you are so minded, you may read it; and tho' I am sensible how great a Master you are of that Lan­guage, yet since this Discourse, may possibly reach other hands that are utterly unacquainted with it, I shall follow the same conduct when ever I have any occasion to make Citations. Now, Sir, is it not an unquestiona­ble truth, that this justness and af­fectation which is sought after with so much study, always carries a certain stiffness and constraint that displeases us? And that these Gentlemen who are such slaves to Rules, have none of those Beauties where Art disguises it self under the [Page] appearances of Nature, that happy Talent of Writing easily and nobly; or in fine, that whichCant. 17. Tasso saies of the Pa­lace of Armida,

Stimi (si misto il culto é col ne­gletto,)
Sol naturali gli ornamenti e i siti,
Di natura arte par, che per diletto
L' imitatrice sua scherzando imiti.

In English it runs thus.

Art in this Beauteous pile can claim no praise,
Nature alone did the fair Fabrick raise
But so well has she copy'd her de­sign,
That cheated by an Object so Di­vine,
We think that Art has follow'd na­ture's line.

[Page] Thus I have briefly acquainted you with my Sentiments of this Work in general, but at the same time am sen­sible that this is not enough to satis­fie you, since you request me to answer all those Objections more particularly, which you tell me have been urged a­gainst it. As I remember, the first is as follows, viz. That these Refle­ctions destroy all the Vertues: To which it may be answered, That our Author was far from entertaining the least inclinations to destroy them; he only pretends to shew that they are seldom to be seen in a perfect state of Purity, and that the greatest part of our Actions are never without a mix­ture of Error and Truth, Perfection and Imperfection, Vice and Vertue. He considers the Hearts of Men cor­rupted, invaded by Pride and Self-love, and encompass'd about with ill Examples, as the Governour of a Town [Page] besieged, who is in want of Silver; he makes Money of Leather and Past-board. This Money in shape and fi­gure resembles the good, 'tis put off at the same Price, but nothing but downright misery and necessity makes it go current among the Besieged. Af­ter the same manner, the generality of humane Actions which pass with the world for so many Vertues, oftentimes have only the bare image and resem­blance of them. Nevertheless they don't cease to carry some merit with them, and to challenge our esteem in some measure, it being very difficult humanely speaking to have any better. But admitting our Author believed, that there was no truly perfect ver­tue in Man, yet considering him in the pure state of Nature, he is not the first that advanced this Opinion. If I were not afraid to lie under the Scan­dal of a mighty Man in Quotation with [Page] you, I cou'd cite you several Authors, nay, Fathers of the Church and cele­brated Saints, who were of Opinion, that Self-love and Pride were the ve­ry Soul of the most Heroical Actions the Pagans can boast off. I cou'd make it appear that some of them have not even pardoned the chastity of Lucre­tia, whom all the World believed to be vertuous, till they discover'd the falsity of that vertue, which produced the liberty of Rome, and has drawn the admiration of so many Ages after it. Can you imagine, Sir, that Sene­ca himself who makes his Wiseman stand upon the same level with the Gods, was truly wise, or that he was really perswaded of what he endea­vours to inculcate to other people with so much Insolence and Ostentation? * Nevertheless, his Pride cou'd not [Page] hinder him from owning in otherb places that he had never beheld in the World an example of that Idea which he proposed; that it was impossible to find so consummate a virtue among Men, and that the most perfect among them was he who had the fewest Defects.c He franckly confesses that one may re­proach Socrates with maintaining some suspected Correspondences, Plato and Aristotle with being Covetous, and Epicurus with his Prodigality and Pleasure. And yet he cries out in a most wonderfull Passion at the same time, that we should be but too happy, [Page] cou'd we arrive to Copy and imitate their very Vices. This worshipfull Philosopher had been much in the right on't, if he had said as much of his own Vices; for to say the Truth, a Man wou'd not have been over unhappy, cou'd he have been able to enjoy, as this poor Stoick did, all manner of Riches, Honour and Pleasure at the same time when he made a mean of despising them; to see himself abso­lute * Master of the Empire, and Emperour; nay, and a Gallant of the Empress at the same time; to possess magnificent Palaces, delicious Gar­dens, and thus full stretch'd at his ease, as he was, to preach up Moderation [Page] and Constancy, and the Lord knows what in the midst of a prodigious plenty and wealth. Do you believe, Sir, that this mortified Hypocrite, who so well counterfeited the Master of his Passions, cou'd in Conscience pretend to any Vertue but that single one of concealing his Vices, and that when he ordered his Veins to be opened, he did not repent him a thousand times that he left his Imperial Pupil the power to make him Die? Do but view this mighty Pretender at a nearer distance, and you'll see that in making all these fine reason­ings upon the immortality of the Soul, he endeavors to Hoodwink himself against the fears of Death; he summons up all his forces to make a solemn Grimace at parting: he bites his Tongue least he should confess that pain is an Evil; he pre­tends [Page] that Reason is able to* divest a man of all Passion, and instead of humbling his Pride, he raises him­self above the Divinity. Now in my Opinion he had acted much more like an honest Man, if he had fairly own'd the Weaknesses and Corruption of Hu­mane Nature, and not taken so much pains to Banter the World with his impracticable Notions. On the other hand, the Author of these Reflections uses a different Conduct; he lays open all the Miseries of Man, but then we must understand him of Man, as he is abandon'd to his own Caprice, and not of a Christian. He makes it evi­dently appear, that in spite of all the Efforts of his reason, Pride and Self-love will still take Sanctuary in some [Page] of the most private recesses of his Heart, where they meet from time to time with sufficient nourishment to spread their Venom imperceptibly upon the greatest part of its Move­ments.

The second Objection you told me of, and which has a great deal of Affini­ty with the former, is, That these Reflections pass in the World rather from the Subtilties of an Austere Censor, who puts an ill Constru­ction upon the most indifferent A­ctions, than for solid Truths. You tell me that some of your Friends have assured you with all the imagi­nable appearances of Sincerity that they knew by their own experience, that a man does sometimes do good without having any other view or pro­spect than that of good; nay, some­times without any view at all, either for Good or Evil, but by a natural inte­grity [Page] of mind, which inclined him to what is good without his own thinking of it. I wish it were in my power to believe these Gentlemen upon their word, and that it were true that Hu­mane Nature has none but reasonable Motions, and that all our Actions were naturally vertuous. But, Sir, how shall we reconcile the testimony of your Friends to the sentiments of the greatest Fathers of the Church, who have assured us, That all our Vertues without the Assistance of Faith, are only imperfections, that our will was born blind; that its desires were blind, its Conduct still more blind, and that it was no wonder if a man under so much blindness was in a perpetual state of wandring. Nor is this all, for they proceed to talk in a higher strain, and tell us that in such a condition, the prudence of man does not penetrate into future things, and [Page] appoints nothing but as it has a re­lation to Pride; that his Tempe­rance moderates no excesses, but those that his Pride condemned be­fore, that his constancy no farther supports its self under the pressure of Calamities, than as it is encou­raged by his Pride; and lastly, that all his vertues with that exterior pomp of merit, which makes them be admired, had no other end but this Admiration, the love of vain Glory, and the interest of Pride. One might find almost an infinite num­ber of Authorities upon this Opinion, but if I should once begin to cite them regularly to you, the effect wou'd be, that I should give my self a little more trouble by the same token that you wou'd not receive more pleasure by it. For this consideration, I think the best way both for you and me, will be to give you an Abridgment of all this [Page] Controversie, done by an excellent Poet of our time in the compass of six Verses.

Brebeuf. Fol. Si le jour de la Foy.

Reason wou'd blindly wander in the Night,
If active Faith withdrew the cheer­full Light.
Aspiring Pride deludes the darken'd mind,
And turns to poison what was good design'd.
Self-love invades each corner of the Soul,
Turns Vice to Vertue and corrupts the Whole.

After all, if we must right or wrong believe that your Friends have the gift of this lively Faith, that suppres­ses all the ill inclinations of Self-love, [Page] if God has bestowed such extraordina­ry favours upon them, and sanctifies them from the common impurities of the World, I will with all my heart give my Vote for their Canonization, and here freely declare to them that the Moral Reflections don't in the least concern them. There is no reason to imagine that the Person who Writ them, ever designed to meddle with the Saints; for as I told you before, his business is only with Man as he is corrupted. He maintains that he generally commits evil when his Self-love flatters him that he's doing good, and that he often deceives himself when he wou'd judge of himself, be­cause nature does not sincerely explain to him the real Motives that make him Act. In this wretched state where Pride is the original of all his Actions, the Saints are the first that declare War against him, and treat him infi­nitely [Page] worse than the Author of the Reflections does. If you should have a desire at any time to consult those passages which I have observed in their Writings upon this Article, you will soon be perswaded that I have told you nothing but the truth; but I re­quest you to satisfie your self for the present with these Verses, which will in part explain to you what others thought about this matter.

Brebeuf, Entr. fol. Le desir des honneurs.

The lust of Honour, Riches, and Delight,
Produces Vice, and leads us to the Right.
Blind Interest the wavering heart o'er sways,
And to fresh errours the vain slave betrays.
[Page] Nay, remedies produce a sharper pain,
One ill suppress'd, another strait does raign.
While here this Tyrant does Tri­umphant ride,
One sin is by a second sin destroy'd.

Montagne, whom I cannot with­out some remorse of Conscience quote to you after the Fathers of the Church, says happily enough upon the same sub­ject, that his Soul has two different Faces; that in vain she endeavoured to look back upon her self, for she on­ly perceives that which Self-love has disguised, while the other is perceiv­ed by those who are not concerned in the Masquerade. If I durst build up­on so bold a Metaphor, I wou'd say that the Soul of a Man corrupted, is made like those Medals which repre­sent the Figure of a Saint, and that [Page] of a Devil in one Face, and by the same stroaks, 'tis nothing but the dif­ferent situation of those that look up­on it, that changes the object; one Man sees a Saint, and the other sees a Devil. These Comparisons may serve to instruct us, that when Self-love has once got possession of the heart, Pride does so effectually blind the Reason, and spreads so vast an obscu­rity over all its faculties, that it can­not form a true judgment of the least of our motions, nor of it self give us any certain rules for our conduct. Men, saies* Horace, Here upon the Stage of this World are like a company of Travellers whom Night has surpri­zed as they are passing through a Foreit; they march on relying up­on [Page] the honesty of the Guide, who immediately puts them out of their way, either through malice or ig­norance. All of them use what care they can to find the beaten Path a­gain, every one takes a different way, and is in good hopes his is the best; the more they fill themselves with these vain imaginations, the farther they wander; but tho they all wander a different way, yet it proceeds from one and the same cause; 'tis the Guide that deceived them, and the obscurity of the Night hinders them from recove­ing the right Road. Is it possible for any one to paint out in Livelier Co­lours the blindness and perpetual in­quietudes of Man abandon'd to his own foolish Conduct, who listens to nothing but the Whisperings of his Pride, who thinks he goes naturally right to what is good, and who all­ways [Page] believes that the last he finds is the best? Is it not certain that at the very moment when he flatters him­self that he's doing some good Action, 'tis then that the wandering of his heart is most dangerous and fatal to him? There is such a prodigious number of Wheels that compose the movement of this Clock, and the first spring of it so hard to be discovered, that tho we plainly see what hour the day it is by the Dial, yet we can­not tell which is the prime motion that conducts the hand upon all the spaces in the Plate.

The Third Objection which lies up­on me to answer, is that abundance of people complain of the great obscurity in the Sense, as also in the expression of the Reflections. You need not be in­formed, Sir, that obscurity is not all­ways the Author's fault. Reflections, or if you please, Maxims and Senten­ces, [Page] as the World has been pleased to call these, ought to be Writ in a succinet close Stile, that hinders a Man from giving that perspicuity in his Writings which is to be desired. They are like the first schetches of a Picture where an ingenious Eye will easily re­mark all the perfection of Art, and the beauty of the Painter's design. But then this Beauty is not understood by all the World, and altho' the linea­ments are not set out in their proper colours; yet for all that, they discover a masterly hand. For this reason the Reader ought to penetrate into the sense and force of the words, the mind ought to run over the whole ex­tent of their signification before it sits down and proceeds to judgment▪

The Fourth Objection, unless I am mistaken was this, That the Max­ims for the most part are too Gene­ral. You have been told that 'tis a [Page] piece of Injustice to fix the defects of particular Men upon the whole Race. Besides the account I have received from you of the different o­pinions you have heard upon this Sub­ject, I know what uses to be General­ly Objected to those Persons who dis­cover and condemn Vices. Their censure is called the Portraiture of a Painter; 'tis urged against them that they resemble People that are troub­led with the Yellow Jaundice, who see every thing Yellow because they are so themselves. Now if it were true that a Man cannot censure the corrup­tion of the Heart in General, with­out finding more of it in himself than another does, we ought then to take it for granted that those Philosophers, whose Apophthegms have been deliver­ed down to us by Diogenes Laertius, were the greatest Debauchees of their times; we ought to attack the memo­ry [Page] of Cato, and believe he was the most profligate wretch in Rome, be­cause he censured the vices of the Re­publick. If this is the case, I dare swear for the Author of the Reflecti­ons, whoever he is, that he will not be much troubled at the ill nature of his Adversaries, since the business of Religion excepted, he will scarce be taken either for a better or wiser Man than Cato. As for what re­gards his expression, which some per­sons pretend is too general, I can on­ly say this, that it is a difficult mat­ter to avoid it in sentences, without robbing them of all their Salt, their Force and Spirit. Nor is this all, for common conversation teaches us that even where general expressions are used, we take them in a limited Sense with such and such Restricti­ons, and this without any body's in­terposing to instruct us; as for Ex­ample, [Page] when we hear a Man cry, All Paris went to meet the King, or all the Court is in Mourning, every one knows that it only signi­fies the greatest part. If you are of opinion that these Reasons are not sufficient to stop the Mouths of the Criticks, you need only tell them that when Gentlemen are so easily scandalized at the terms of a gene­ral Censure, 'tis because it touches them after too lively a manner in the most sensible part of their hearts.

'Tis indeed very certain, that you and I are acquainted with several Persons of great Worth and Honour, who are not in the least offended at the freedom of these Reflections, I mean, those that have a mortal aver­sion to Hypocrisie, and who make no scruple at all to confess both what they feel in themselves, and what [Page] they observe in others. But few People are capable of thinking of them aright, or that will put themselves to the severe expence of doing it, and if by mere acci­dent they do, Self-flattery still attends them, and so hinders the operation of the Physick. Let me intreat you to call to mind after what manner our Friend Guarini treats these empty pretenders.

* Huomo sono, e mi preggio d' es­ser humano,
E teco, che sei huomo,
E ch' altro esser non puos,
Come huomo parlo di cosa huma­na.
E se di cotal nome forse tisdegni,
Guarda Garzon Superbo,
[Page] Che nul dishumanarti,
Non divenghi una fiera, anzi chun Dio.

Observe, Sir, in what terms we ought to Speak of the Pride of Hu­mane Nature; instead of being an­gry with the mirrour that shews us our Faults, instead of bearing an ill will to the Person who is so charita­ble to discover them to us, ought we not rather to make use of the cha­ritable Lights they give us to find out our Self-love and Pride, and to preserve our selves from the continu­al attempts they make upon our Rea­son? Can a Man ever express Ha­tred enough to those two vices that were the lamentable occasions of the revolt of our first Parent, or too much decry those unfortunate sources from whence all our miseries proceed?

[Page] Others are at their liberty to take the Reflections after what manner they please; as for my self, I look upon them to be a true and hand­som Representation of all the infir­mities of your impudent pretenders to Wisdom. I fansie that in every stroke the love of truth pulls off his Mask, and shows him as he is in his proper Colours. I consider them as the instructions of an able Master, who was perfectly versed in the Art of knowing Men, who dexterously lays open all the several parts they play upon the Theatre of the World, and who not only bids us mind the seve­ral Characters of the Persons upon the Stage, but lifts up a corner of the Curtain, and satisfies us that this Lover and that King in a Trage­dy, are the very numerical Actors, that play the Mountebank and the Merry-Andrew in a Farce. I free­ly [Page] own to you, that I have read no­thing in this Age, that gives me a greater contempt for Man, or makes me more sensible of my own Vanity. I fansie that as often as I open the Book, I find something that resem­bles the secret Movements of my Heart, I enquire into my self to ex­amine whether he speaks the Truth, and I find that generally he tells both me and others more than they saw. At first I am somewhat dis­pleased with him, I sometimes blush to see how exactly he has Divined, but after I have with some violence to my Nature read Him, I per­ceive that if I don't from thence learn to become more wise, I learn this at least that I have no pretence to a­spire to that Title; and lastly, I learn from the true Representation he gives me of my self, not sottishly to fall into an admiration of those [Page] Vertues, the very splendor of which offends our Eye-sight. Hypocrites indeed pass their time but very ill in reading a Book of this Character, and those are the only Persons in the World that will raise a Noise and Clamour about it. Let me therefore conjure you, Dear Sir, to give no heed to those that vent their Malice against it, and rest assured that the true Reason of their Indignation is to see those Mysteries revealed, which if it lay in their [...] they wou'd careful­ly conceal [...] from others and them­selves.

And now Sir, whereas it was my intention to send you a Letter, I find my self insensibly Engaged to Write a tedious Discourse, call it as you please, either a Discourse or a-Letter, it signifies not much pro­vided, 'tis so happy as to give [Page] you some satisfaction, and that you will do me the Honour to believe that I am with all imaginable re­spect,

Sir,
Your Most Humble, &c.

ARcana Aulica: or, Walsingham's Manu­al of Prudential Maxims, for the States­man and Courtier. To which is added Fragmenta Regalia: or, Observations on Queen Elizabeth, Her Times, and Favou­rites. By Sir Robert Naunton. London, Printed for Matthew Gillyflower at the Spread Eagle in Westminster-Hall, 1694.

HVmane Prudence: or, the Art by which a Man may Raise himself and Fortune to Grandeur. The Sixth Edition Cor­rected and Enlarged by the Author. Printed for Richard Sare at Grays-Inn-Gate in Holbourn.

Moral Reflections.
Our Vertues are oftentimes in Reali­ty no better than Vices disguised.

I.

WHAT we take for Vertue is frequently nothing else but the concurrence of several Actions, and several Aims; which either our own Industry, or Fortune for us con­trives to bring together. And we are much mistaken, if we think that Men are always stout from a principle of Valour, or Women chast from a principle of Modesty.

II.

Self-love is the Love of a mans own self, and of every thing else for his own sake. It makes people Idolaters to themselves, [Page 2] and Tyrants to all the World besides, as they would plainly make appear if For­tune did but furnish them with Power and Opportunities of shewing it. It never rests or fixes any where from Home, and if for a little while it dwell upon some other thing, 'tis only as Bees do, when they light upon Flowers, with a design to draw all the Virtue there to their own advantage. Nothing is so raging and vi­olent as its Desires, nothing so close as its Designs, nothing so ingenious as its Management of them; it hath more Fetches and Doubles than can ever be de­scribed; it transforms it self into more different shapes, than are in all Ovid's Me­tamorphoses, and its Extractions are more subtle and refined, than any Chymistry can Parallel. It is an Abyss, too deep ever to be sounded, and too dark ever to be seen thorough: There it sits undiscover­ed even from the nicest and most pene­trating Eye, and runs a thousand wild Mazes undiscerned. Nay, it is sometimes con­cealed from its own self, and conceives and cherishes, and brings up a world of [Page 3] Inclinations and Affections, without so much as being sensible when they are Born, or how they are Bred. And some of these Conceptions are so monstrous, that when they come to the Birth, it either does not know them, or cannot be prevailed upon to own them. From this gross Darkness proceed all its extravagant and ridiculous Opinions of its self, all its Errours, and Ig­norances, and sottish Stupidities in its own case. This is the reason, why it often thinks those Passions killed, and dead, which are only laid to Sleep; Happiness it self is content to sit down quietly when it is only taking Breath for a fresh Chase, and thinks those Appetites quite lost, which are only satisfied a little for the present. And yet this thick Mist which hinders it from seeing it self, is no Obstruction to its sight of any thing else; for in this it is like the Eyes of our Body, which perceive all o­ther Objects, and are blind only with re­gard to themselves. And thus, where i [...] own Interest is concerned, and the matter is of Consequence so great, as to move the desires vigorously, and by [...]hem to call [...]o [Page 2] [...] [Page 3] [...] [Page 2] [...] [Page 3] [...] [Page 4] all its Attention, it Sees, and Feels, and Hears, and Imagines, and Suspects, and Penetrates, and Presages perfectly well, so that nothing escapes it; and a Man would be apt to suspect, that each of these Passi­ons under its Conduct, have some strange Magical Power peculiar to it. No Cement is so strong, none so close as its Engagements, which it attempts to break or dissolve, but to little or no purpose, even when driven to it by the greatest and most impending Mischiefs. And yet it happens sometimes, that what the continued Endeavours of many years were not able to accomplish, a very little time and pains effects, which gives us just Ground to conclude, that its desires are all kindled by its own hand, and owing more to it self, than to the Beauty, or the worth of its Object; and that its own Palate gives them all their Value, and Fancy, is the false Gloss that sets them off. That it self is the only Game it pursues, and its own Inclination the thing it follows, rather than the Objects that sute its Inclination; it is all extremes, and acts in the greatest contradictions to [Page 5] it self. It is Imperious and Submissive, Sincere and Hypocritical, Frank and For­mal, Compassionate and Cruel, Coward­ly and Couragious. It puts on different Inclinations according to the different Tempers, that dispose and devote it, some­times to Honour, sometimes to Riches, sometimes to Pleasure. It shifts these, as our Age, or our Fortunes, or our Ex­perience change; but as to it self, it is the same thing, whether it have one or more such Inclinations, for it divides it self to several, or collects and determines it self entirely to one at pleasure, and as occasi­sions offer themselves. It is fickle, not only because the things without us are unstable, but from a thousand inward Causes, entirely owing to it self. Incon­stancy, Levity, Love of Novelty. Nause­atings, and Disgusts, and being tired with what it hath already, make it changeable every Moment. It is Whims [...]cal and Hu­moursome, and you may sometimes ob­serve it taking infinite pains, and using the utmost Application and Zeal, for things that cannot be any advantage, nay [Page 6] which are sure to prove Prejudicial, and yet pursue them it will, merely because it will have them. It is unaccountable and childish, and often busies it self about Trifles and Impertinencies; finds the greatest Relish and Delight, in the flattest and most insipid things, and reserves all its eagerness and warmth for the meanest, and most contemptible. It enters into all Qualities and all conditions of Life, it lives in every place, it lives upon every thing, nay it lives upon nothing; it serves it self both of the Enjoyment of things, and of the want of them. It takes part with the very Men that make War upon it, and Engages in their Designs against it self; and which is most surprising, it joins with them in the Hating of it self, Plots to its own Disadvantage, and Conspires and Endeavours its own Destruction. In a word, all its care is to subsist, and ra­ther than not be at all, it is content to be its own Enemy▪ We ought not therefore to think it strange, if we meet it some­times in Conjunction with the most rigo­rous Mortification, and find it entring [Page 7] boldly into League with this Adversary, to work its own Ruine; for at the same time, that it pulls it self down in one place, it builds it self up in another. When we think it renounces, and forsakes its plea­sure, it only suspends or changes it; and when we fansie it Conquered, and totally Routed, we find it rise Victorious, and its very Defeat contributes to its Triumph. This is the true Picture of Self-love, which is so predominant, that a mans whole life is but one continued Exercise and strong Agitation of it; the Sea indeed is a very sensible resemblance of this Passion, and the perpetual Ebbings and Flowings of the Waves there, are a lively and faithful Em­bleme of that restless Succession of Thoughts, and those Boisterous rowlings of the Mind, which are eternally caused and kept up by it.

III.

Self-love is the greatest Flatterer in the World.

IV.

When a Man hath travelled never so far, and discovered never so much in the [Page 8] World of Self-love, yet still the Terra In­cognita will take up a considerable part of the Map.

V.

Self-love is more ingenious, than the most ingenious Man in the World.

VI.

The continuance of our Passions is no more in our own Power, than the term of our Life.

VII.

Passion very often makes the wisest Men Fools, and very often too, inspires the greatest Fools with Wit.

VIII.

Those great and glorious Actions, that even dazle our Eyes with their Lu­stre, are represented by Politicians as the result of great Wisdom and excellent de­sign; whereas in truth, they are common­ly the effects of Passion and Humour. Thus the War between Augustus and An­tony, which is usually thought to proceed from Greatness of Soul, and the Ambiti­on [Page 9] each of them had to become Master of the World, was very probably no more than Envy and Emulation.

IX.

The Passions are the only Orators that are always successfull in perswading; they are a kind of Art in Nature that pro­ceeds upon infallible Rules, and the plain­est Man with the help of Passion, shall prevail more than the most Eloquent Man without it.

X.

There is in the Passions such a con­stant tendency to private Interest and In­justice, that it is dangerous to be guided by them; and indeed, we should not dare to trust them, even then when they appear most fair and reasonable.

XI.

The heart of Man ever finds a con­stant succession of Passions, insomuch, that the destroying and pulling down of one, proves generally to be nothing else, but the Production and the setting up of another.

XII.

The Passions (so odd a way of Bree­ding they have) do very often give birth to others of a nature most contrary and distant from their own. Thus Ava­rice sometimes brings forth Prodigality, and Prodigality Avarice: A Man's reso­lution is very often the effect of Levity, and his daring Boldness that of Cowar­dice and Fear.

XIII.

After all the care Men can take to conceal their Passions, and put them off under the dress of Piety and Honour, the disguise is too thin, and will be sure to discover all at one time or other.

XIV.

The love of our selves can better bear to have our Opinions condemned, than our Inclinations.

XV.

Men are not only apt to forget the kindnesses and injuries that have been done them, but which is a great deal [Page 11] more, they hate the Persons that have obliged them, and lay aside their resent­ments against those that have used them ill. The trouble of returning Favours, and revenging of Wrongs, is a slavery, it seems, which they can very hardly sub­mit to.

XVI.

The Clemency of Princes is very often only a State-trick to gain upon the affe­ctions of their Subjects.

XVII.

That Clemency which the World crys up for such a mighty Vertue, proceeds sometimes from Ostentation, sometimes from Laziness and Neglect, very often from Fear, and almost always from a mixture of all these together.

XVIII.

The moderation of People in prospe­rity, is the effect of a smooth and com­posed Temper owing to the Calm of their good Fortune.

XIX.

Moderation is a fear of falling into that Envy and Contempt, which those who grow giddy with their good Fortune, most justly draw upon themselves; it is a kind of boasting the greatness of our mind, and in short, the moderation of Men in the most exalted Fortunes, is a desire to be thought above those things that have raised them so high.

XX.

No body is so weak, but he is strong enough to bear the misfortunes that he does not feel.

XXI.

The constancy of the Wise is nothing else, but the knack of concealing their Passion and Trouble.

XXII.

We often see Malefactors when they are led to Execution, put on Resolution and a Contempt of Death, which in truth is nothing else, but fearing to look it in the Face: So that this pretended Brave­ry may very truly be said to do the same [Page 13] good office to their mind, that the Hand­kerchief or Night-cap does to their Eyes.

XXIII.

Philosophy finds it an easie matter to vanquish past and future Evils, but the present are commonly too hard for it.

XXIV.

Very few People are acquainted with Death. They undergo it commonly, not so much out of Resolution, as Custom and Insensibility; and the greatest part of the World pretend they are content to die, only because they know they can­not help it.

XXV.

When great Men sink under the length of their misfortunes, this discovers that it was not the greatness of their Soul, but of their Ambition, that kept up their Spi­rits so long, and that, setting aside abun­dance of Vanity, Heroes are just like com­mon Men.

XXVI.

It requires more Vertue to bear a good fortune than ill.

XXVII.

Death and the Sun are two things not to be looked upon with a steady Eye.

XXVIII.

Men are often so foolish as to boast, and value themselves upon their Passions, even those that are most vicious. But en­vy is a Passion so full of Cowardice and Shame, that no body ever had the confi­dence to own it.

XXIX.

There is something to be said for Jea­lousie, because this only designs the pre­servation of some good, which we either have, or think we have a right to; but Envy is a rageing Madness that cannot be satisfied with the good of others.

XXX.

Our good Qualities expose us more to Hatred and Persecution, than all the Ill we do.

XXXI.

We do not want strength so much as will to use it; and very often the fansy­ing [Page 15] things impossible to be done, is no­thing else, but an excuse of our own con­triving, to reconcile our selves to our own Idleness.

XXXII.

If we had no defects of our own, we should not take half so much satisfaction in observing those of other people.

XXXIII.

Jealousie is bred in doubts, when those doubts change into certainties, then the Passion either ceases, or turns absolute Madness.

XXXIV.

A Proud man can never be a loser, no not even then when he renounces his Pride.

XXXV.

The being proud our selves, makes us complain of others, and uneasie at their being so.

XXXVI.

All men are proud alike, the only dif­ference is, that all do not take the same methods of shewing it.

XXXVII.

It looks like an indulgence of Nature to give us pride, that after she had taken such wise care to fit the Organs of the body for our happiness and convenience, we might be delivered from the trouble of knowing our own imperfections.

XXXVIII.

Pride hath a greater share than Good­ness in the reproofs we give other peo­ple for their faults; and we chide them, not so much with a design to mend them, as to make them believe that we our selves are not guilty of them.

XXXIX.

We promise in proportion to our Hopes, and we keep in proportion to our Fears.

XL.

Interest speaks all manner of Langua­ges, and acts all sorts of Parts; nay, e­ven that of a man that hath no regard at all to Interest.

XLI.

Interest makes some people Blind, and others quick-sighted.

XLII.

They that use to employ their minds too much upon Trifles, commonly make themselves incapable of any thing that is serious or great.

XLIII.

We have not strength enough to fol­low our Reason so far as it would carry us.

XLIV.

A man often thinks he governs him­self, when all the while he is governed and managed; and while his understand­ing directs to one design, his affections in­sensibly draw him into another.

XLV.

The strength and weakness of a Man's mind are mistaken and improper terms, for these are really no other than the Organs of our Bodies being well or ill disposed.

XLVI.

The whimsicalness of our own humour, is a thousand times more fickle and unac­countable, than what we blame so much in fortune.

XLVII.

The fondness or indifference that the Philosophers express'd for life, was purely a tang of the love of themselves, which will no more bear reasoning upon, than the relish of the Palate, or the choice of Co­lours.

XLVIII.

All the gifts of fortune are just as our own humour is pleased to rate them.

XLIX.

Happiness does not consist in the things themselves, but in the relish we have of them; and a man hath attained to it when he enjoys what he loves and desires him­self, and not what other people think lovely and desirable.

L.

Every mans good and ill fortune is con­stantly more or less, than he esteems it.

LI.

People that are conceited of their own Merit, take a pride in being unfortunate, that so themselves and others may think them considerable enough to be the envy and the mark of Fortune.

LII.

Nothing ought in reason to mortifie our Self-satisfaction, more than the con­sidering that we condemn at one time, what we highly approve and commend at another.

LIII.

How different soever mens fortunes may be, there is always something or o­ther that balances the ill and the good, and makes all even at last.

LIV.

Though Nature be never so Liberal, yet can She not make a Hero alone. For­tune must contribute Her part too; and till both Concur, the Work cannot be perfected.

LV.

When the Philosophers despised Riches, it was because they had a mind to vindi­cate their own Merit, and take a Revenge upon the injustice of Fortune, by vilifying those Enjoyments which She had not gi­ven them: This was a secret to ward off the Contempt that Poverty brings, a kind of winding By-path to get into the Esteem of the World, and when Riches had not made them considerable, to make them­selves so some other way.

LVI.

We hate Favourites, because we are fond of Favour our selves: The indig­nation we profess against others who are in Possession, sooths and softens a little the concern for our own being excluded. And we deny to pay them our respects, because we would fain, but cannot, take away that which makes them respected by all the World besides.

LVII.

The common way to do ones Business, and rise in the World, is to use all possi­ble [Page 21] means of perswading People that ones Business is done already.

LVIII.

Though Men are apt to flatter and exalt themselves with their Great Atchieve­ments, yet these are in Truth very often owing, not so much to Design, as Chance.

LIX.

Our Actions seem to have their lucky and unlucky Stars, to which a great part of that Blame, and that Commendation is due, which is given to the Actions them­selves.

LX.

There is no accident so exquisitely un­fortunate, but wise Men will make some advantage of it; nor any so entirely fortunate, but Fools may turn it to their own prejudice.

LXI.

Fortune converts every thing to the ad­vantage of her Favourites.

LXII.

Mens Happiness and Misery depends al­together as much upon their own Humour, as it does upon Fortune.

LXIII.

Sincerity is a certain openness of Heart. It is to be found but in very few, and what we commonly look upon to be so, is only a more cunning sort of Dissimulation, to in­sinuate our selves into the Confidence of others.

LXIV.

Our aversion to a Lye is commonly a secret Ambition to make what we say con­siderable, and have every word received with a Religious respect.

LXV.

Truth has scarce done so much good in the World, as the false appearances of it have done hurt.

LXVI.

No Praises are thought too great for Wisdom. And yet the highest pitch of it cannot ensure a Man the most inconside­rable event; the reason of which is, that Man is the Subject of its Operation, and he is the most fickle and changeable Crea­ture in the World.

LXVII.

A wise Man should order his Designs, and set all his Interests in their proper places. This Order is often disturbed by a foolish greediness, which, while it puts us upon pursuing several things at once, makes us eager for matters of less consi­deration; and while we grasp at trifles, we let go things of greater Value.

LXVIII.

Gracefulness is to the Body, what good Sense is to the Mind.

LXIX.

It is very hard to give a just Definiti­on of Love. The most we are able to say of it is this; That in the Soul, it is a desire to Govern; in Spirits it is a Sympathy; and in the Body, it is only a secret Desire, and a Curiosity to enjoy the thing Beloved, after a great deal of Bustle and Formality.

LXX.

Love pure, and untained with any o­ther Passion (if such a thing there be) lies hidden in the bottom of our Heart, so [Page 22] [...] [Page 23] [...] [Page 24] exceeding close that we scarce know it our selves.

LXXI.

It is not in the Power of any the most crafty Dissimulation, to conceal Love long where it really is, nor to Counterfeit it long where it is not.

LXXII.

Considering how little the beginning, or the ceasing to Love is in our own power, it is foolish and unreasonable for the Lover, or his Mistriss, to complain of one anothers Inconstancy.

LXXIII.

If one were to Judge of Love, accor­ding to the greatest part of the effects it produces, it might very justly pass for Ha­tred, rather than Kindness.

LXXIV.

Some Ladies may be met with, who never had any Intrigue at all; But, it will be exceeding hard to find any, who have had one, and no more.

LXXV.

Love is one and the same in the Ori­ [...]nal; but there are a Thousand Copies [...] it, and it may be all differing from one [...]other.

LXXVI.

Love can no more continue without a [...]onstant Motion, than Fire can; and [...]hen once you take Hope and Fear a­ [...]ay, you take from it its very Life and [...]eing.

LXXVII.

It is with True Love, as with Ghosts [...]nd Apparitions, a thing that every body [...]alks of, and scarce any body hath seen.

LXXVIII.

Love hath its Name borrowed by a World of dealings and affairs that are fa­ [...]her'd upon it; when, alass! Love hath [...]o more concern in them, than the Doge [...]ath in what is done at Venice.

LXXIX.

What the Generality of People call [...]he Love of Justice, is onely the Fear of [...]uffering by Injustice. [Page 24] [...] [Page 25] [...]

LXXX.

Silence is the best Security to that M [...] who distrusts himself.

LXXXI.

The thing that makes our Friend­ships so short and changeable, is, that the Qualities and Dispositions of the Soul are very hard to be known, and those of the Understanding and Wit very easie.

LXXXII.

The most Disinterested Love is, after all, but a kind of Bargain, in which the Dear Love of our own selves always pro­poses to be the Gainer some way or o­ther.

LXXXIII.

The Reconciliation of Enemies is com­monly Mens desires to better their own Condition; a being Harassed, and Tired out with a State of War, and a Fear of some ill Accident, which they are willing to prevent.

LXXXIV.

When we have Loved our Selves weary, the kindest and most welcome [Page 27] [...]hing that can be, is some Act of Infide­ [...]ty, which may fairly disengage our Af­ [...]ection.

LXXXV.

It is much less for a Man's Honour to [...]istrust his Friends, than to be deceived by [...]hem.

LXXXVI.

We oftentimes fansie, that we Love Persons above us, when it is nothing but [...]nterest that makes us fond of them. And all our Applications and Attendances are not so much upon the account of any good we desire to do them, as for what we ex­pect and hope they may do us.

LXXXVII.

Our own Jealousie gives a fair pretence for the Knavery of other People.

LXXXVIII.

With what Face can we expect, ano­ther should keep our Secrets, when we cannot keep them our selves?

LXXXIX.

The Love of our Selves makes our Friends appear more or less Deserving in [Page 28] Proportion to the Delight we take [...] them; and the Measures by which [...] judge of their Worth, depend upon the Manner of their Conversing with us.

XC.

Every body complains for want of Me­mory; but you never find any body com­plain of the Weakness of his Judgment.

XCI.

When Idle men have indulged them­selves, as much as they think fit, no body is then so full of hast, and activity as they, because they hope this quickning of others will give them the Reputation of Diligence.

XCII.

The greatest Ambition does not appear least so, when it finds what it would fain aspire to, absolutely impossible to be attained.

XCIII.

The disabusing a man strongly possess'd with an opinion of his own worth, is the ve­ry, same ill office, that was done the Fool at [Page 29] Athens, who fansied, all the Ships that came into Harbour, were his own.

XCIV.

Old Folks love mightily to give good Advice, because this makes them some sort of Amends, for being incapable now of setting Ill Examples.

XCV.

Great Characters do really lessen, in­stead of exalting, those that know not how to maintain, and make them good.

XCVI.

That man, we may be sure, is a Per­son of true worth, whom, we find those who envy him most, are yet forced to commend.

XCVII.

It is an Argument, our own Affecti­on is but small, when our Friends grow cold to us, and we are not sensible of it.

XCVIII.

The making a Difference between the Wit and the Judgment, is a Vulgar Error. [Page 30] The Judgment is nothing else, but the Exceeding Brightness of the Wit; which, like Light, pierces into the very Bottom of Things; observes all that ought to be ob­served there, and Discovers what seemed to be past any bodies finding out. From whence we must conclude, that the E­nergy and Extension of this Light of the Wit, is the very thing, that produces all those effects, usually ascribed to the Judgment.

XCIX.

Every body takes upon him to give a good Character of his own Courage, but no body to speak well of his own Wit.

C.

The Polite Wit consists in Nice, Curi­ous, and Commendable Thoughts.

CI.

The Gallantry of the Wit is Exprest in Flattery Well-couched.

CII.

It often happens, that some things of­fer themselves to our Wit, and are finer [Page 31] in the very first thought, than it is possi­ble for a man to make them by the Ad­ditions of Art and Study.

CIII.

The Wit is constantly the Cully of the Courage.

CIV.

Many People are Acquainted with their own Wit, that are not Acquainted with their own Heart.

CV.

Men and Actions are like Objects of Sight, and have their nice points of being distinctly discerned. Some you must come very near to, to judge of them exactly, and others are better seen at a greater distance.

CVI.

He is not to pass for a Man of Reason, who stumbles upon Reason by chance, but he that knows and can Judge, and hath a true relish of it.

CVII.

It is necessary in order to know things throughly well, to know the particulars [Page 32] of them; and these being infinite, make our Knowledge ever superficial and im­perfect.

CVIII.

It is one kind Coquet humour, to put people always upon observing, that we are not Coquet.

CIX.

It is not in the power of the Wit to dissemble the Inclinations very long.

CX.

Heat of Blood makes young People change their Inclinations often, and Custom makes old ones keep to theirs a great while.

CXI.

There is nothing that Men are so free of, as their Advice.

CXII.

The more Passionately a Man loves his Mistress, the readier he is to hate Her.

CXIII.

The Defects of the Ʋnderstanding are like those of the Face; the older People are, the worse they grow.

CXIV.

Matrimony is sometimes convenient, but never Delightful.

CXV.

Men are never to be comforted for the Treachery of their Friends, or the over reaching of their Enemies; and yet they are often very highly satisfied, to be both cheated and betrayed by their own selves.

CXVI.

It is as easie a matter to deceive a Mans self, and not be sensible of it, as it is hard to impose upon others, and yet for them not to be sensible of it.

CXVII.

Nothing betrays more want of Sincerity, than the methods commonly used in ask­ing and receiving Advice. He that asks it, pretends to a respectful Deference for the Opinion of his Friend, and all the while only designs to have his own ap­proved, and shelter his own Actions under the Authority of another; and he that gives it, returns these Professions with a pretend­ed [Page 34] Kindness and impartial Zeal, and yet hath generally no other end in the advi­sing him, but his own Interest and Honour.

CXVIII.

The cunningest Dissimulation is when a Man pretends to be Caught, and a Man is never so easily over-reached, as when he is thinking to over-reach others.

CXIX.

An honest Intention of imposing upon no Body, lays us open to be frequently imposed upon our selves.

CXX.

We are so used to dissemble with o­ther People, that in time we come to De­ceive and Dissemble with our selves.

CXXI.

Treachery is oftner the Effect of Weak­ness, than of a fixed Design.

CXXII.

Men frequently do good, only to give themselves opportunity of doing ill with greater Security.

CXXIII.

The resistance we make to our Passions is owing to their Weakness more than our Strength.

CXXIV.

Men never would enjoy any Pleasure, if they never flattered themselves.

CXXV.

The most ingenious Men pretend to condemn tricking continually; but this is often done, that they may use it more conveniently themselves, when some great Occasion or Interest offers it self to them.

CXXVI.

To use crafty Dealing, is a sign of a little Soul; and it generally falls out, that he who conceals himself by it in one In­stance, betrays himself as much by it in a­nother.

CXXVII.

Tricks and Treachery are the practice of Fools that have not Wit enough to be Honest.

CXXVIII.

The most effectual way to be Bubbled, is to fansie ones self wiser than ones Neigh­bours.

CXXIX.

Too great a degree of Subtilty is coun­terfeit Exactness, and true Exactness is the best and most substantial Subtilty.

CXXX.

The being a Blockhead is sometimes the best security against being imposed upon by a Man of Wit.

CXXXI.

A weak mind is the only defect out of our power to mend.

CXXXII.

When once Women have given them­selves over to make Love, the doing it on is the least fault they can be guilty of.

CXXXIII.

It is much easier to be wise in another Mans concern, than in ones own.

CXXXIV.

There are no good Copies, except such as expose the folly of Bad Originals.

CXXXV.

Men become Ridiculous, not so much for the Qualities they have, as those they would be thought to have, when they re­ally have them not.

CXXXVI.

A man at sometimes differs as much from himself, as he does from other peo­ple.

CXXXVII.

Abundance of Men would never have been in Love, if they had never been en­tertained with any Discourse of Love.

CXXXVIII.

They that speak without Ostentation, content themselves with saying but little.

CXXXIX.

Rather than say nothing, Men are content to speak ill of themselves.

CXL.

One reason, why we find so very few Men of Sense and agreable Conversation, is, That almost every bodies mind is more intent upon what he himself hath a mind [Page 38] to say, than upon making pertinent Re­plies to what the rest of the Company say to him. The more Ingenious and Com­plaisant sort go no farther than pretending to hearken attentively; when at the same time, a Man may plainly see, that both their Eyes and their Mind are roving from what is said to them, and posting back again to what they long to be at themselves. Whereas it ought to be con­sidered, that to seek ones own Pleasure so very Passionately, can never be the way either to please or perswade others; and that diligent Attention, and proper Repar­tees, are the very things that accomplish a man for Company.

CXLI.

A man of Wit would find himself sometimes miserably at a ioss, if there were no Fools to divert him with their Company.

CXLII.

We often brag of never being trouble­some to our selves, and are so vain as never to think our selves bad Company.

CXLIII.

As great Wits have a peculiar Faculty of saying a great deal in a little; so half witted Fellows have a Talent of talking much, and yet saying nothing.

CXLIV.

The excellencies of other people are extolled and valued, more according to our own Opinions, than a just esteem of their worth; and when we pretend to commend other mens Vertues, 'tis by a side-wind to put other men upon com­mending ours.

CXLV.

No body loves to be upon the com­mending strain, and indeed we seldom touch upon it without some little By-end. Praise is a more ingenious, concealed, and nicer kind of Flattery, that consults the satisfaction both of the Giver and Receiver, though by very different ways the one accepts it, as a reward due to his desert; the other gives it, that he may be lookt upon as a Just and a Discreet Person.

CXLVI.

We often choose to make use of Com­mendations, that carry a sting in the Tail; and by taking men at the rebound (as it were) lay open some Defects in the Persons so commended, which we dare not venture to expose any other way.

CXLVII.

The design of commending others, is usually to be commended ones self.

CXLVIII.

Few People have the Wisdom to like Reproofs that would do them good, bet­ter than Praises that do them hurt.

CXLIX.

Some Censures are a Commendation, and some Commendations are no better than Scandal.

CL.

He that refuses Praises the first time it is offered, does it, because he would hear it a second.

CLI.

The desire of being worthy the Com­mendations of the World, is a great assi­stance [Page 41] and strengthning to our Virtues; and to extoll mens Wit, or Courage, or Beauty, is to contribute to the increase of them.

CLII.

It is an easier matter to manage others, than to keep from being managed ones self.

CLIII.

If we did not Flatter our selves, all the Flatteries of other People could never hurt us.

CLIV.

We are beholding to Nature for Worth and Parts, but it is to Fortune that we owe the opportunities of exerting them.

CLV.

Fortune mends more Faults in us, than ever Reason would be able to do.

CLVI.

Some men displease with Merit, and other Peoples very Faults and Defects are taking.

CLVII.

All that some People are good for, is the saying and doing foolish things sea­sonably [Page 42] and usefully; and when they are once taken out of this Road, you quite spoil them, and they are worth nothing.

CLVIII.

Great mens Honour ought always to be measured by the Methods they made use of for the attaining it.

CLIX.

Kings put a value upon Men, as well as Money, and we are forced to take them both, not by weight, but according as they are pleased to Stamp them, and at the current rate of the Coin.

CLX.

It is not enough for Men to have great Accomplishments, except they have the Art of using them too.

CLXI.

Though an Action be never so Glorious in it self, it ought not to pass for Great, if it be not the Effect of Wisdom and good Design.

CLXII.

Whoever expects to have what he does turn to good account, must take care to [Page 43] proportion his Actions, and the ends he proposes from them.

CLXIII.

If a Man hath the Address of using mo­derate Abilities to the best Advantage, this Dexterity shall gain upon the World, and bring him oftentimes into greater Reputa­tion, than real Merit.

CLXIV.

There are a World of Proceedings, that appear odd and ridiculous, which yet are grounded upon secret Reasons, that are ve­ry Solid and Substantial.

CLXV.

It is easier for a Man to be thought fit for an Employment that he hath not, than for one that he stands already possest of, and is his proper Post.

CLXVI.

The esteem of Good Men is the reward of our Worth, but the Reputation of the World in general, is the gift of our Fate.

CLXVII.

The appearances of Goodness and De­sert often meet with a greater reward from [Page 44] the World, than real Goodness and De­sert it self.

CLXVIII.

Covetousness is more opposite to Pru­dence and good Management, than Li­berality is.

CLXIX.

Though Hope be exceeding deceitful, yet it is of this good use to us, that while we are Travelling through this Life, it conducts us an easier and more pleasant way to our Journey's End.

CLXX.

Many People are kept within their Duty, because they have not the Cou­rage, or will not be at the pains of being wicked; and in such cases oftentimes our Vertue runs away with all the Praise.

CLXXI.

It is hard to Determine, whether a clear, open and honourable proceeding, be the result of good Principles, or a good Understanding.

CLXXII.

Vertues are lost in Interest, as Rivers are swallowed up in the Sea.

CLXXIII.

We are so strongly possest with a good Opinion of our selves, that we take those things for Vertues, which are no other than Vices that look like them, and such as the Love of our selves imposes upon us with.

CLXXIV.

There are several sorts of Curiosity, one that proceeds from Interest, which puts us upon learning things that can be any way Useful and Beneficial to [...] and ano­ther, from Pride, that comes from an Itch of knowing more than other People.

CLXXV.

A mans Wits are Employed to better purpose in bearing up under the misfor­tunes that lie upon him at present, than in foreseeing those that may come upon him hereafter.

CLXXVI.

Constancy in Love is a perpetual incon­stancy, which fixes our hearts fast to all the accomplishments of the party beloved successively; sometimes admiring one, and sometimes another above all the rest, so that this Constancy roves as far as it can, and is no better than Inconstancy, confined with­in the compass of one Person.

CLXXVII.

Constancy in Love is of two sorts, one is the effect of new Excellencies that are always presenting themselves afresh, and attract our affections continually; the o­ther is only from a point of Honour, and a taking a Pride not to change.

CLXXVIII.

Perseverance is in Strictness, neither Praise-nor blame-worthy; for it seems to be only the lasting of certain Inclinati­ons and Opinions, which men neither give nor take away from themselves.

CLXXIX.

The love of new Notions and greater Knowledge is not so much from being wea­ry [Page 47] of what we had before, or any satis­faction there is in change, as it is the con­cern for being too little admired by those that know us well, and the hope of be­ing admired more by them that know us but little.

CLXXX.

We complain sometimes that our Friends are Fickle, only to be beforehand with them, and justifie our own Inconstancy.

CLXXXI.

Our Repentances are generally not so much a Concern and Remorse for the Ills we have done, as a Dread of those we were in danger of suffering.

CLXXXII.

There is an Inconstancy that proceeds from an unsettled Judgment, a natural Levity and Weakness that espouses all Opinions as they come, and thinks as o­ther people think; and there is another much more excusable, that arises from a dislike and disapproving of the things themselves.

CLXXXIII.

Vices are mingled with Vertues, just as poisonous Ingredients are put into Medicines. A wise and skilful Hand tempers them to­gether, and makes excellent use of them against the misfortunes that attend Hu­mane Life.

CLXXXIV.

Some Crimes get Honour and Renown by being committed with more Pomp, by a greater Number, and in a higher Degree of Wickedness than others. And hence it is, that publick Robberies, Plunderings and Sackings have been lookt upon as Excel­lencies and noble Atchievements, and the seizing whole Countries, though never so Unjustly and Barbarously, is dignified with the Glorious Name of gaining Con­quests.

CLXXXV.

We confess our Faults, by that Since­rity to make amends for the Injury they have done us in the Esteem of others.

CLXXXVI.

Some Heroes have been accounted so for being greatly Ill, no less than others for being greatly Good.

CLXXXVII.

We may Hate and Despise mens Vices, without any Contempt or Malice against their Persons; but it is impossible not to Despise those that have no kind of Vertue to recommend them.

CLXXXVIII.

The name and pretence of Vertue is as serviceable to ones Interest, as real Vices.

CLXXXIX.

The Health of the Soul is what we can be no more secure of, than that of our Body. And though a man may seem far from Vice and Passion, yet is he in as much Danger of Falling into them, as one in a perfect state of Health is of having a sit of Sickness.

CXC.

Nature seems at each Man's Birth to have markt out the bounds of every ones Vertues and Vices, and to have determined how Good or how Wicked that Man shall be capable of being.

CXCI.

None but Great Men are capable of being greatly ill.

CXCII.

Vices may be said to take us from one to another in the Course of our lives, just as Inn-keepers where we Lodge upon a Journey do; and I Question, whether if we could Travel the same Road twice o­ver, the Experience of having been once ill used, would prevail with us to change our House next time.

CXCIII.

When our Vices forsake us, we please our selves with an Opinion, that we part­ed first, and left them.

CXCIV.

The Distempers of the Soul have their Relapses, as many and as dangerous as those of the Body. And the Remedies we take, are oftentimes no perfect cure, but either an abatement of the same Disease, or the changing of that for another.

CXCV.

The Defects and Faults of the Mind are like Wounds in the Body; after all imagi­nable eare hath been taken to heal them up, still there will be a Scar left behind, and they are in continual Danger of break­ing the Skin, and bursting out again.

CXCVI.

The only Reason why we do not give our selves entirely to one Vice, is often­times, because our Affections are divided, and we are fond of several.

CXCVII.

We easily forget our Faults, when no body knows them but our selves.

CXCVIII.

Some Men are so good, that one can­not fairly believe any thing ill of them without the Demonstration of seeing it our selves, but never any were so good, that we should be astonished when we do see it.

CXCIX.

We pull down one Man's Reputation to set up anothers; and sometimes Men would not be so copious in the praise of the Prince, and Monsieur Turenne, if it were not out of a design to lessen them both.

CC.

The desire to be thought a wise Man, oftentimes hinders ones coming to be real­ly such.

CCI.

Vertue would not make such Advances, if there were not a little Vanity to bear it Company.

CCII.

He that fansies such a sufficiency in himself, that he can live without all the World, is mightily mistaken; but he that imagines himself so necessary, that other people cannot live without him, is a great deal more mistaken.

CCIII.

Those Men have but a counterfeit Ver­tue, who dissemble their Faults and hide [Page 53] them from others and themselves. The men of true unaffected Goodness know their own failings perfectly, and confess them freely.

CCIV.

He that would be a truely honest Man must be immoderately desirous of no­thing.

CCV.

Niceness of Behaviour in Women, is on­ly a Dress or Paint, which they use, the better to set off their Beauty.

CCVI.

Womens vertue is frequently nothing, but a regard to their own Quiet, and a tenderness for their Reputation.

CCVII.

There is no better proof of a man's be­ing truly Good, than his desiring to be constantly under the observation of good Men.

CCVIII.

Folly dogs us every where, and at all times. If one Man seem wiser than his [Page 54] Neighbours, it is only, because his Follies are better suited to his Age and his For­tune.

CCIX.

There are a great many Cullies that know it, and make very good use of the weakness, and easiness of their own Tem­per.

CCX.

He that lives without Folly is not so wise as he imagines.

CCXI.

Both Folly and Wisdom come upon us with Years.

CCXII.

Some Men are like Ballads, that every body Sings at one time or other, though they be never so dull and insipid.

CCXIII.

The generality of the World know no other way of judging Peoples worth, but by the Vogue they are in, or the fortunes they have met with.

CCXIV.

The love of Reputation, the fear of Shame, the designs of promoting an Interest, the desire of making Life easie and conveni­ent, and a longing to pull down some a­bove us, are frequently the causes of that Valour so much cryed up in the World.

CCXV.

Valour in private Soldiers is a Hazardous Trade, which they have bound themselves too, to get their Livelihood.

CCXVI.

Compleat Courage, and absolute Cowar­dice, are extremes that very few Men fall into. The vast middle space contains all the intermediate Kinds, and degrees of Courage; and these differ as much from one another, as Mens Faces, or their Hu­mours do. Some Men venture at all upon the first Charge or two, but if the Actio| continue, they cool, and are easily de­jected. Some satisfie themselves with ha­ving done what in strict Honour was ne­cessary, and will not be prevailed upon to advance one step farther [...] is obser­vable, [Page 54] [...] [Page 55] [...] [Page 56] that some have not the command of their Fears, and not master them at all times alike. Others are some times carri­ed away with a general Consternation; some throw themselves into the Action, be­cause they dare not stay at their own Post. Now and then the being used to smaller Dangers hardens the Courage, and fits it for venturing upon greater. Some Fel­lows value not a Sword at all, but fear a Musket-shot; and others are as unconcern­ed at the Discharge of a Musket, and ready to run at the sight of a Naked Sword. All these Couragious Men of so ma­ny Sorts and Sizes, agree in this▪ that Night, as it adds to their fear, so it con­ceals what they do well or ill, and gives them opportunity of sparing themselves. And there is, besides this, another more general tenderness of a Man's self, for you meet with no body, even those that do most, but they would be capable of doing a great deal more still, if they could but be sure of coming off safe. Which makes it very plain, that let a Man be never so Stout, yet the fear of Death does cer­tainly [Page 57] give some damp to his Courage.

CCXVII.

True Valour would do all that, when alone, that it could do, if all the World were by.

CCXVIII.

Fearlessness is a more than ordinary strength of Mind, that raises it above the Troubles, Disorders, and Emotions which the prospect of great Dangers are used to produce. And by this inward strength it is, that Heroes preserve themselves in a Calm and quiet State, enjoy a presence of Mind, and the free use of their Reason in the midst of those terrible▪ Accidents, that amaze and confound other People.

CCXIX.

Hypocrisie is a sort of Homage which Vice pays to Vertue.

CCXX.

Most Men are willing to expose their Persons in an Engagement, for the love of Honour; but very few are content to ex­pose themselves so far, as the design they [Page 58] go upon requires, to render it Successful.

CCXXI.

The Courage of a great many Men, and the Vertue of a great many Women, are the effect of Vanity, Shame, and espe­cially a suitable Constitution.

CCXXII.

Men are loth to lose their Lives, and yet they are desirous of getting Honour too, which is the reason why Men of Gallantry use more Dexterity and Wit to decline Death, than all your Religious Knaves do to secure their Estates.

CCXXIII.

There are very few Persons, but dis­cover as soon as they come to decline in Years, where the chief failings lie, both of their Body and their Mind.

CCXXIV.

Gratitude among Friends, is like Credit among Tradesmen, it keeps Business up, and maintains the Correspondence. And we frequently pay not so much out of a Principle that we ought to discharge our [Page 59] Debts, as to secure our selves a place to be trusted in another time.

CCXXV.

Some there are who have done all that can be expected by way of Gratitude, can be required from them by way of return, are not able for all that to please them­selves upon their being grateful, and which are not satisfied with what they have [...]

CCXXVI.

That [...] occasions so many mistakes in the Computations of Men, when they expect returns for favours, is, that both the Giver and the Receiver are Proud, and so these two can never agree upon the va­lue of the kindnesses that have been done. The Giver over-reckons, and the Receiver undervalues them.

CCXXVII.

To be uneasie, and make too much hast to return an Obligation, is one sort of Ingratitude▪

CCXXVIII.

Men find it more easie to set bounds to their Acknowledgments, than to their Hopes and their Desires.

CCXXIX.

Pride never can endure to be in Debt, and Self-love never cares to Pay.

CCXXX.

The good that we have received should qualifie for the ill that hath been done us.

CCXXXI.

Nothing is of so pestilent spreading a Nature, as Example; and no Man does any exceeding good, or very wicked thing; but it produces others of the same kind. The good we are carried to the imitation of by our Emulation, and the bad by the Corruption and Malignity of our Nature; which shame indeed confines and keeps up close, but Example unlocks its Chains, and lets it loose.

CCXXXII.

To think to be Wise alone, is a very great Folly.

CCXXXIII.

Whatever other pretended cause we may father our Afflictions upon, it is very often nothing but Interest, and Vanity, that are the true causes of them.

CCXXXIV.

There are Hypocrisies of several kinds in our Afflictions, in one sort, we pretend to lament the loss of some Friend exceeding dear to us, and all the while this Lamen­tation is only for our selves. We are trou­bled to think our selves less Happy, less Easie, less Considerable, and less Valued, than we were before. Thus the Dead carry the Name and the Honour of those Tears, that are shed only upon the ac­count of the Living. And this I call Hy­pocrisie of one kind, because in these Af­flictions, People impose upon themselves. There is another kind not so Harmless as this, because that imposes upon all the World. And this is the Affliction of a sort of Persons, that pretend to a [...], and a never dying concern in their Grief. When Time, the Waster of all things, hath [Page 54] [...] [Page 55] [...] [Page 56] [...] [Page 57] [...] [Page 58] [...] [Page 59] [...] [Page 60] [...] [Page 61] [...] [Page 62] worn off the concern they really had, then they will needs be obstinate in their Sor­rows, and still carry on their Complaints and their Sighs. They put on all the Characters of Mourning and Sadness, and take a great deal of pains by all their A­ctions, to make the World believe, their Melancholy can never have any Rest, any Cessation, but in the Grave. This Dismal, Tiresome, and Solemn Vanity is most u­sual among Ambitious Women. Their Sex hath shut them out from all the com­mon ways that lead to Honour, and that makes them attempt to signalize them­selves, by all this Pageantry of an Af­fliction, too deep to admit of any Comfort. There are yet another sort of Tears, that have but shallow Springs, quickly and easily flow, and are as easily dryed up a­gain; these are such as weep to gain the Reputation of Tenderness and good Nature, such as cry because they would be pitied, such as cry because they would make o­ther People cry; and in a word, such as cry, only because they are ashamed not to cry.

CCXXXV.

Our concern for the loss of our Friends, is not always from a Sense of their Worth, but rather of our own occasions for them, and that we have lost some, who had a good Opinion of us.

CCXXXVI.

We are Easily Comforted for the Dis­graces of our Friends, when they give us an occasion of Expressing our Tenderness for them.

CCXXXVII.

One would think, that Self-Love were Over-reached by Good-Nature and Ver­tue; and that a Man wholly Forgets and Neglects himself, when he is employ'd in Promoting the Advantage of Others. But, when all is done, this is the most effectu­al way of compassing a Man's own ends; it is putting out to Interest, when we pre­tend to Give Freely▪ In a word, it is Winning over the Affections of all that know us, and gaining upon them by a more nice and dexterous way.

CCXXXVIII.

No Man deserves to be commended for his Vertue, who hath it not in his Power to be Wicked; all other Good­ness is Generally no better than Sloth, or an Impotence in the Will.

CCXXXIX.

It is safer to do most Men Hurt, than to do them too much Good.

CCXL.

Nothing Imposes more upon our Pride, than the Intimacy and particular Confiden­ces of Great Persons; for we look upon our selves as admitted to these by Virtue of our own Desert; and never consider, that it happens much oftner, from a parti­cular Vanity in their Humour, or the not being able to keep a Secret. For indeed a Man may observe, that the Unbosom­ing ones Self to another, is a kind of Release to the Soul, which strives to Lighten its Burden, and find Ease, by throw­ing off the Weight that lay heavy up­on it.

CCXLI.

If we look upon Agreeableness distinct from Beauty, we may call it a sort of Pro­portion, the Rules of which no body can positively define; a secret relation, and affinity of the Lines to one another, and of all these together, to the Complexi­on and Air of the Person.

CCXLII.

A Cocquet Humour is the very Nature and Inheritance of Women. But all of them do not practise it, because some are restrained, either by Fear, or by better Sense.

CCXLIII.

We frequently bring others under an Inconveniency, when we think it impossi­ble for us ever to do so.

CCXLIV.

There are but very few things Impos­sible in their own Nature; and we do not want Means to Conquer Difficulties, so much as Application and Resolution in the Use of Means.

CCXLV.

The Principal Point of Wisdom, is to Know How to Value Things Just as they Deserve.

CCXLVI.

It is a Great Act of Wisdom to be able to Conceal ones being Wise.

CCXLVII.

What we take for Generosity, is very often no other than Ambition well Dissem­bled, that scorns Mean Interests, onely to Pursue Greater.

CCXLVIII.

That which Most Men would put up­on us for Fidelity, is onely a Contrivance of Self-Love, to make our Selves Trusted. It is a Trick to set our selves above other People, and get the Most Important Matters Deposited with us, upon a Confidence, that they are then in Safe Hands.

CCXLIX.

Magnanimity Despises all, that it may Grasp all.

CCL.

Eloquence is as much seen in the Tone, and Cadence of the Voice, as in the Choice of Proper Expressions.

CCLI.

True Eloquence consists in Saying all that is Fit to be Said; and Leaving Out all that is not Fit to be Said.

CCLII.

There are some Persons, upon whom their very Faults and Failings Sit Grace­fully; and there are others, whose very Excellencies and Accomplishments do not Become them.

CCLIII.

It is as common for Men to Change their Palates, as it is unusual to see them Change their Inclinations.

CCLIV.

Interest is the Thing that puts Men upon Exercising their Vertues and Vices of All Kinds.

CCLV.

Humility is very often only the Put­ting on of a Submission, by which Men hope to bring other People to Submit to Them: It is a more Artificial sort of Pride, which Debases it self with a Design of being Exalted; and though this Vice Disguise and Transform it self into a Thousand several Shapes, yet this is ne­ver more effectually done, nor more ca­pable of Deceiving the World, than when Concealed under a Form of Humi­lity.

CCLVI.

The Resentments of the Soul have each of them their Tone and Cadence, of the Voice, their Gestures of the Body, and their Forms and Air peculiar to them; And, as this Propriety is Well or Ill observed, in the same Proportion the Persons Please, or Displease us.

CCLVII.

Men of all Professions Affect an Air and Outside, that may make them Ap­pear what they are thought to be. So that a Man may say, That the whole [Page 69] World is made up of nothing but For­malities.

CCLVIII.

Gravity is a kind of Mystical Behavi­our in the Body, found out to Conceal, and Set Off the Defects of the Mind.

CCLIX.

There is an Eloquence in the Eyes, and the Air of a Man, no less Powerful and Perswasive, than that in Words.

CCLX.

The Pleasure of Love is Loving; and a Man is more Happy in his own Passion for Another, than in that Another hath for Him.

CCLXI.

Civility is a desire to be Civilly Used, and to be thought an Accomplished Well-bred Man.

CCLXII.

The Breeding we Give Young People, is but an Additional Self-Love, by which we make them have a Better Conceit of Themselves.

CCLXIII.

Self-Love hath no-where a greater share, nor is more predominant in any Passion, than in that of Love. And Men are always more disposed to Sacrifice all the Ease of them they Love, than to part with any Degree of their Own.

CCLXIV.

What we call Liberality, is for the most part onely the Vanity of Giving; and we Exercise it, because we are more Fond of that Vanity, than of the Thing we Give.

CCLXV.

Pity and Compassion is frequently a Sense of our own Misfortunes, in those of Other Men. It is an Ingenious Foresight of the Disasters that may fall upon us hereaf­ter; we Relieve Others, that they may Return the like, when our Own Occasi­ons call for it; and the Good Offices we Do Them, are, in Strict Speaking, so many Kindnesses done to Our Selves Be­fore-hand.

CCLXVI.

It is from a Weakness and Littleness of Soul, that Men are Stiff and Positive in their Opinions; and we are very loth to Believe, what we are not able to Com­prehend, and make out to Our Selves.

CCLXVII.

It is a Mighty Error, to suppose, that none but Violent and Strong Passions, such as Love, and Ambition, are able to Van­quish the rest. Even Idleness, as Feeble and Languishing as it is, sometimes reigns over Them; This Usurps the Throne, and sits Paramount over all the Designs and Actions of our Lives; and Insensibly wasts and destroys all our Passions, and all our Vertues.

CCLXVIII.

A readiness to believe Ill, before we have duly Examined it, is the Effect of Laziness and Pride. Men are plea­sed to find Others to Blame▪ and loth to give Themselves the Trouble of En­quiring, how far, and whether they are so, or not.

CCLXIX.

We refuse some Judges in Matters of less concern, and yet are content to have our Honour and Reputation depend upon the Judgment of People that are sure to be against us, for either their Jealousie, or their Prejudices, or their Ignorances will incline them to be so. And we should never expose our Ease, and our Lives, so many ways as we do, if it were not to Bribe Men to give Sentence in our Fa­vour.

CCLXX.

There are but few Men Wise enough to know all the Mischief Wisdom does.

CCLXXI.

The honour we have already gotten is an Engagement upon us for that which we ought to get.

CCLXXII.

Youth is a continual Drunkenness, the very Fever of Reason.

CCLXXIII.

We love to spend our Judgments up­on Other Peoples Destiny, but never care that they should spend Theirs upon Us.

CCLXXIV.

There are a great many Men Valued in the World, who have nothing to Re­commend Them, but Serviceable Vices.

CCLXXV.

The Living Strictly by Rule, for the Preservation of Health, is one of the most Troublesome Diseases that can be.

CCLXXVI.

That Good Disposition which Boasts of being most tender, is often Stifled by the least Interest.

CCLXXVII.

Absence cools Moderate Passions, and Enflames Violent ones; Just as the Wind blows Cut Candles, but Kindles Fires.

CCLXXVIII.

Women often Fansie themselves in Love, when there is no such Matter. The Diversion of an Amour, the Little Com­motions that an Intrigue Raises in their Breasts; the Natural Inclination to be Courted, and the Trouble of Denying, makes them Fansie that what they Feel is Passion; when, in Truth, it is nothing but a Coquet-Humour.

CCLXXIX.

The Dislike we commonly have for Men that make Traffick and Gain their Business, arises from their being generally apt to Sacrifice all the Interest of their Friends, for Advancing the Interest of their Trade; which they make their own, by the Credit of having Succeeded in their Undertakings.

CCLXXX.

When we Enlarge upon the Tender­ness our Friends have for us, this is very often, not so much out of a Sense of Gra­titude, as from a Desire to Perswade Peo­ple of our own Great Worth, that can Deserve so much Kindness.

CCLXXXI.

The Applause we give to Men, that are just Setting-Up for Reputation in the World, is often from a Spirit of Envy; and a Secret Way of Detracting from o­thers, that have Established a Good Re­putation to themselves already.

CCLXXXII.

Pride, that Inspires us with so much Envy, is sometimes of Use toward the Moderating it too.

CCLXXXIII.

There are some Counterfeits so ve­ry like Truths, that we should injure our judgments, not to Submit to the Cheat.

CCLXXXIV.

It is sometimes as Great a Point of Wisdom, to know how to make use of Good Advice from others, as to be able to Advise ones Self.

CCLXXXV.

There are some Wicked Men in the World, that would not be Able to do half so much hurt, if they had no Good Qualities to Recommend them.

CCLXXXVI.

Magnanimity is sufficiently understood, and defined, by its very Name▪ But yet one may say, That it is the Wisdom of Pride, the best and most Noble Method for the getting the Commendations of o­thers.

CCLXXXVII.

No Man can truly Love a Second time the Person whom he hath once truly ceased to Love

CCLXXXVIII.

The Different Methods for compas­sing the same Design, come not so much from the Fruitfulness of our Inventions, as from the Weakness of our Under­standings; which makes us pitch upon every Fresh Matter that presents it self to our Fancy, and does not furnish us with Judgment sufficient to discern, at first sight, which of them is best, and most for our purpose.

CCLXXXIX.

Affected Plainness is but a Nicer and more Laboured Cheat.

CCXC.

The Humour occasions more Defects than the Understanding.

CCXCI.

Men's Deserts are like Fruits, for they have both of them their particular Sea­sons.

CCXCII.

One may say of Mens Humours That they resemble the Generality of Buildings, they have Several Prospects, some of them Agreeable, and some much other­wise.

CCXCIII.

Moderation can never have the Honour of Contending with Ambition, and Subdu­ing it; for they cannot possibly meet in the same Breast. Moderation is the Fee­bleness and Sloth of the Soul, whereas Ambition is the Warmth, and the Activi­ty of it.

CCXCIV.

We always Love those that Admire us, but we do not always Love those that we Admire.

CCXCV.

We are very far from always knowing our own Minds.

CCXCVI.

It is a hard matter to Love those, for whom we have not a Real Esteem; and it is every whit as hard to Love Those, [Page 78] that we think a great deal better than our Selves.

CCXCVII.

The Humours of the Body have a Constant Course, and Regular Motion, that Insensibly draws our Will after it; they take their Rounds together, and Govern us by turns: So that our Constitution hath, in Truth, a very considerable share in all we do, though we cannot always perceive it.

CCXCVIII.

A great many Mens Gratitude is no­thing else, but a secret desire to Hook in more valuable Kindnesses hereafter.

CCXCIX.

Almost every body takes a delight to return small Favours; a great many pay their acknowledgments for moderate ones, but there is scarce any body, but is un­thankful for such as are Extraordinary.

CCC.

Some Follies like Diseases, are caught by Infection.

CCCI.

Abundance of Men despise Riches, but few know how to part with them.

CCCII.

It is in Matters of no great Moment commonly, where we venture, not to be­lieve Probabilities.

CCCIII.

Whatever Men say in our own Com­mendation, they tell us nothing but what we knew before.

CCCIV.

We often forgive those that have In­jured us, but we can never Pardon those that we have Injured.

CCCV.

Interest, upon which we commonly lay the Blame of all our ill Actions, oftentimes deserves the commendation due to our Good ones.

CCCVI.

A Man seldom finds People unthank­ful, till he ceases to be in a Condition of obliging them any farther.

CCCVII.

It is as commendable, for a Man to think well of himself when he is alone, as it is ridiculous to publish his doing it in all Companies.

CCCVIII.

Moderation is represented as a Vertue, with a design to restrain the Ambition of Great M [...]n; and to perswade those of a meaner Condition, to be contented with a less proportion of Merit, and of Fortune.

CCCIX.

There are some Men cut out for Fools, that do not only make their Follies their choice; but are forced into them by For­tune, whether they will or no.

CCCX.

Such odd Accidents there are sometimes, attending Humane Life, that a little Folly is necessary to help us well out of them.

CCCXI.

If there be such Men as were never thought to be guilty of any thing Ridi­culous, it is only because they have not been nicely lookt into.

CCCXII.

The reason why Ladies are easie in one anothers Company, is because they never talk of any thing but themselves.

CCCXIII.

What an odd thing it is, that our Memories should serve us to recollect all the little Circumstances that have happened to us; and yet that we should not re­member, how often we have told them over and over again, to one and the same Person.

CCCXIV.

The exceeding delight we take in dis­coursing about our selves, may well make us suspect, that we allow but very little Pleasure, to them that converse with us.

CCCXV.

The Reason why we do not let our Friends see the very bottom of our Hearts, is, not so much, from any distrust we have of them, as that we have of our selves.

CCCXVI.

Half-witted People can never be sin­cere.

CCCXVII.

The misfortune of obliging unthank­ful People is no very great misfortune, but to be obliged to a Knave, is one not to be endured.

CCCXVIII.

Some Remedies may be found to cure a Man of his Folly, but there are none that can reform a perverse Spirit.

CCCXIX.

No body can continue long, to think so respectfully of their Friends and Bene­factors as they ought, if they allow them­selves the liberty to talk often of their Faults.

CCCXX.

To commend Princes for Vertues which they have not, is only to take a safe way of abusing them.

CCCXXI.

We may sooner be brought to Love them that Hate us, than them that Love us more than we desire they should do.

CCCXXII.

No body fears being despised, but those that deserve it.

CCCXXIII.

Our Wisdom lies as much at the mercy of Fortune, as our Possessions do.

CCCXXIV.

Jealousie is not so much from the love of another, as the love of our selves.

CCCXXV.

We oftentimes are comforted for mis­fortunes by the want of Reason and Judg­ment, which the strength of Reason could not comfort us under.

CCCXXVI.

The exposing of a Man and making him Ridiculous, dishonours him more than a real dishonour.

CCCXXVII.

When we own small Faults, it is with a design to make People believe, we have no great ones.

CCCXXVIII.

Envy is more capable of a Reconciliation than Hatred.

CCCXXIX.

Men fansie sometimes, they have an aversion to Flattery, when alas, it is only to the manner of expressing it.

CCCXXX.

As long as we Love we can Forgive.

CCCXXXI.

It is harder to continue Faithful, after good Success, than after ill Usage.

CCCXXXII.

Women are not sensible how exceed­ing Coquet they all are.

CCCXXXIII.

Women are never absolutely reserved, except where they have an Aversion.

CCCXXXIV.

Women can more easily conquer their Passion, than their Affectation of being courted and admired.

CCCXXXV.

Deceit goes generally farther in Love, than Distrust.

CCCXXXVI.

There is one kind of Love, where the excess of it prevents Jealousie.

CCCXXXVII.

Some good Qualities are like our Senses, those that never had the use of them, can never have any Notion of them.

CCCXXXVIII.

When our Hatred is too fierce, it sub­jects us to the Persons we hate.

CCCXXXIX.

Our good and our ill Fortune are both resented, in proportion to the Love we have for our selves.

CCCXL.

Most Womens wit tends more to the improving their Folly, than their Reason. [Page 80] [...] [Page 81] [...] [Page 82] [...] [Page 83] [...] [Page 84] [...] [Page 85] [...]

CCCXLI.

The Passions of Youth are not much more Enemies to a Mans Salvation, than the Lukewarmness of Old Age.

CCCXLII.

The Twang of a Mans native Coun­try sticks by him as much in his Mind, and Disposition, as it does in his Tone of Speaking.

CCCXLIII.

He that would make a Great Man, must learn to turn every Accident to some Advantage.

CCCXLIV.

The generality of Men are like Plants, that have secret Vertues, which are found out by Chance.

CCCXLV.

Opportunities make us known to others, and much more so to our selves.

CCCXLVI.

Women never can have any such thing strict Rules in their Mind, and Disposi­tion, [Page 87] if their Constitution be but consenting.

CCCXLVII.

We seldom meet with any Wise Men, except such as are of our own Opinion.

CCCXLVIII.

When a Man is in Love, one Doubts very often, what he most firmly believes.

CCCXLIX.

The greatest Miracle Love can work, is to cure People of their Coquet Humour.

CCCL.

The reason why we have so little Pati­ence with those that have Tricked us, is because they fansie themselves, to have more Wit than we.

CCCLI.

When a Man is out of Love with him­self, he finds it the hardest thing in the World to break it.

CCCLII.

We are generally weary of those Men most, whom we ought never to be weary of at all.

CCCLIII.

An accomplished Man may love Indis­creetly, but not Sottishly.

CCCLIV.

There are some Faults, which when Dexterously managed, make a brighter shew than Vertue it self.

CCCLV.

Some Men are more miss'd than la­mented when we lose them; and others are very much lamented, and very little miss'd.

CCCLVI.

We very seldom commend any body in Goodness, except such as admire us.

CCCLVII.

Mean Souls are exceedingly struck with little things, but great Souls see them, and are not moved at all.

CCCLVIII.

Humility is the sure mark of Christian Vertues, without this we retain all our Faults still, and they are only covered o­ver [Page 89] with Pride, which hides them from other Mens Observation, and sometimes from our own too.

CCCLIX.

Ʋnfaithfulness ought to quench our Love quite, and we do ill to be jealous when there is Reason; no body de­serves the jealousie of another, who will give any just occasion for it.

CCCLX.

Small Faults whereby our selves were Sufferers, lessen the Committers of them in our Esteem, more than great ones com­mitted against other People.

CCCLXI.

Jealousie is always born with Love, but it does not always die with it.

CCCLXII.

Most Ladies lament the Death of their Lovers, not so much because they loved them, as that they may be thought the more worthy to be beloved again.

CCCLXIII.

The violences that other People use toward us, are oftentimes less painful, than those we commit upon our selves.

CCCLXIV.

It is a Rule generally known, not to talk much of ones Wife, but Men do not consider as they should, that they ought much less to talk of themselves.

CCCLXV.

Some good Qualities, if they be Natu­ral, usually degenerate into Faults, and others again, are never complete, if they be acquired. For instance, a Man should learn good Husbandry in his Estate and his Confidences, from Reason and Experience only, if he would keep this quality from being Vicious; and on the other side, Courage and good Nature must be born with us, or we can never have them in any good degree.

CCCLXVI.

Though we pretend never so much to distrust the Sincerity of those we converse [Page 91] with, yet still we think they tell more Truth to us, than to any body else.

CCCLXVII.

There are very few honest Women, but what are weary of their Trade.

CCCLXVIII.

The generality of honest Women are like hid Treasures, which are safe, only because no body hath sought after them.

CCCLXIX.

The force Men use to themselves to hinder Love, is oftentimes more cruel, than the severest usage from the party beloved.

CCCLXX.

Very few Cowards know the utmost of their own Fears.

CCCLXXI.

It is commonly the fault of People in Love, that they are not sensible when they cease to be beloved.

CCCLXXII.

Nothing is so unwelcome a sight as the Person we Love, when we have been Co­quetting it with some body else.

CCCLXXIII.

There are some Tears that after they have cheated other People, carry on the deceit, and impose upon our very selves at last.

CCCLXXIV.

The Man that thinks he loves his Mi­stress for her own sake, is mightily mi­staken.

CCCLXXV.

A Man may bear his Faults pretty pa­tiently, when he is hardned so far as to own them.

CCCLXXVI.

True Friendship destroys Envy, and true Love breaks a Coquett Humour.

CCCLXXVII.

The greatest Fault of a Penetrating Wit, is not coming short of the mark, but overshooting it.

CCCLXXVIII.

Other Men may give us good Advice, but they cannot give us the Wit to make a wise use of it.

CCCLXXIX.

When our Merit lowers, our Palate lowers with it.

CCCLXXX.

Fortune makes our Vertues and Vices vi­sible, just as Light does the objects of Sight.

CCCLXXXI.

When a Man forces himself to be con­stant in his Love, this is no better than In­constancy.

CCCLXXXII.

Our Actions are like the last Syllables in Words, which every Man makes Rhime to what he thinks fit.

CCCLXXXIII.

The desire of talking of our selves, and shewing our failings on that side we are content they should be seen on, makes up a great part of our Sincerity.

CCCLXXXIV.

There is nothing deserves so much to be wondered at, as that Men should live so long, and wonder at any thing.

CCCLXXXV.

Men are as far from being satisfied with a great deal of Love, as with a little.

CCCLXXXVI.

No Men receive more Injuries and Af­fronts, than those that can least bear them.

CCCLXXXVII.

A Block-head hath not stuff enough to make a good Man of.

CCCLXXXVIII.

If Vanity do not quite over-turn our Ver­tues, yet at least it makes them Totter.

CCCLXXXIX.

We have no patience with other Peo­ples Vanity, because it is offensive to our own.

CCCXC.

Interest is more easily forgone than In­clination.

CCCXCI.

No body thinks Fortune so blind, as those she hath been least kind to.

CCCXCII.

We should manage our selves with re­gard to our Fortune, as we do with regard to our Health; when good, enjoy and make the best of it; when ill, bear it pa­tiently, and never take strong Physick with­out an absolute necessity.

CCCXCIII.

The Air of a Citizen is sometimes lost in an Army, but never in a Court.

CCCXCIV.

One Man may be too cunning for ano­ther, but no body can be too cunning for all the World besides.

CCCXCV.

'Tis better for a Man sometimes to be deceived in what he Loves, than to be un­deceived.

CCCXCVI.

The first Lover is kept a long while, when no body can accuse them of a second.

CCCXCVII.

We have not the confidence to say in general terms, that our selves have no ill [Page 96] Qualities, and that our Enemies have no good ones; but when we talk of particu­lars, we are pretty near thinking so.

CCCXCVIII.

Of all our Defaults, we are most easily reconciled to Idleness; we perswade our selves, that it sticks close to all the peace­able Vertues, and as for the rest, that it does not destroy any of them utterly, but only suspends the Exercise of them.

CCCXCIX.

There is a Sublimity of mind that hath no dependence upon Fortune. 'Tis a certain air of Authority, that seems to lay us out for great things, 'tis a value, which we insensibly set upon our selves, and by this quality it is, that we claim the respects of other People, as if they were our due; and this it is commonly, that raises us more above them, than ei­ther Birth, or Honours, or even Desert it self.

CCCC.

There is Worth sometimes without a greatness of Soul, but there is never a [Page 97] great Soul without some degree of Worth

CCCCI.

Greatness of Mind sets off Merit, as good Dressing does handsome Persons.

CCCCII.

Love is the least part of a modish Courtship.

CCCCIII.

Fortune sometimes, makes our very Failings the means of raising us, and there are some troublesome Fellows, who de­serve to be rewarded so far, as to have their Absence purchased by preferments at a distance.

CCCCIV.

Nature seems to have treasured up in every one of our Minds some secret Ta­lents, and some one particular faculty which we are not sensible of; it is the privilege of the Passions alone to bring these to Light, and to direct us sometimes to surer and more excellent Aims than it is possible for Art to do.

CCCCV.

We come altogether Fresh and Raw in­to the several Stages of Life, and notwith­standing we have lived so long, are as much to seek sometimes, as if we had ne­ver had any Experience at all.

CCCCVI.

Coquettes pretend to be jealous of their Lovers, only to conceal their Envy of o­ther Women.

CCCCVII.

Those that are overtaken by any Sub­tilties of ours, do not seem near so Foolish and Ridiculous to us, as we our selves are in our own Opinion, when we have been outwitted by them.

CCCCVIII.

Nothing is more Ridiculous in old Peo­ple, that have been Handsome formerly, than to forget, that they are not so still.

CCCCIX.

We should often blush for our very best Actions, if the World did but see all the motives upon which they were done.

CCCCX.

The boldest stroke, and best act of Friendship, is not to discover our failings to a Friend, but to shew him his own.

CCCCXI.

The greatest part of our Faults are more excusable, than the Methods that are commonly taken to conceal them.

CCCCXII.

Though we have deserved Shame ne­ver so much, yet it is almost always in our own Power, to recover our Reputa­tion.

CCCCXIII.

After having exposed the falsity of so many seeming Vertues, it is but reasonable I should add somewhat of that Deceit there is in the Contempt of Death. That Contempt of it I mean, which the Heathens pretended to derive from the strength of Nature, and Reason, without any hope of a better Life to animate them. There is a great deal of difference between suffer­ing Death with Bravery and Resolution, [Page 100] and slighting it. The former is very u­sual, but I very much suspect, that the other is never real and sincere. There hath been a great deal Written, 'tis con­fess'd, and as much as the Subject will bear, to prove, that Death is no Evil; and Men of very inferiour Characters as well as Heroes have furnisht us with a great many eminent Examples in confirmation of this Opinion. But still I am very much perswaded, that no wise Man ever be­lieved so; and the trouble they are at to perswade others and themselves, shews plainly, that this was no such easie under­taking. There may be a great many Reasons, why Men should be out of con­ceit with Life; but there can be none, why we should despise Death: Even those, who run voluntarily upon it, do not rec­kon it so inconsiderable▪ a matter, but are confounded, and decline it as much as o­thers, if it approach them in any other shape, but that of their own choosing. The great Disparity observable between the Courage of a World of brave Men, hath no other Foundation than this, That [Page 101] they have different Ideas of Death, and that it appears more present to their Fan­cy upon some occasions, and at some times, than it does at others. Hence it is, that after having slighted what they did not know, they are afraid when they come to be better acquainted with it. If a Man would perswade himself, that it is not the very greatest of Evils, he must decline looking it in the Face, and con­sidering all its Gastly Circumstances. The Wisest and the Bravest Men, are they that take the fairest and most Honourable Pretences, to avoid the consideration of it. But every Body that knows it as it really is, finds it to be a thing full of Hor­rour. The necessity of Dying, was what the Philosophers owed their Constancy of mind to; they thought when there was no Remedy, but a Man must go, it was best to go with a good Grace. And, since there was no possibility of making their lives Eternal, they would stick at nothing to make their Names so, and secure all that from the wreck, which was capable of being secured. Let us put the best [Page 102] Face upon the matter we can, satisfie our selves with not Speaking all we think; and hope more from a happy Constitution, than all the feeble Reasonings, that gull us with a Fancy of our being able to meet Death unconcerned. The Honour of dying Gallantly, the Hope of being Lamented when we are gone, the Desire of leaving a good Name behind us, the Certainty of a Deliverance from the Mise­ries of the present Life, and of depending no longer upon a fickle and humoursome Fortune, are Remedies that we shall do well to make our best of.

But these, though they be no con­temptible Remedies, yet we must not suppose they are infallible ones. They may help to put us in Heart, just as a poor Hedge in an Engagement, contributes to Encourage the Soldiers that are to March near, where the Enemy are Firing behind it. While they are at a distance, they imagine, it may be a good Shelter, but when they come up to the place, expe­rience convinces them it is but a thin De­fence. 'Tis a vain Imagination, and too [Page 103] fatal a Flattery, to think that Death hath the same Face near at Hand, which we fansie him to have, while we view him at a Distance; and that our Reasonings which in Truth are weakness it self, will prove of so hardned a Temper as to hold out proof, and not yield to the severest of all Tryals. Besides, it shews we are but little acquainted with the Power of Self-love, when we imagine, that will do us any service toward the looking upon that very thing as a Trifle, which must of necessity be its utter Ruine; and Rea­son, in which we so often take Sanctuary, hath not the power upon this occasion to make us believe, what we wish to find true. So far from that, that this betrays us oftener than any other thing; and in­stead of animating us with a Contempt of Death, gives us a more lively Represen­tation of all its Terrour and Gastliness. All it is able to do in our behalf, is only to Advise, that we would turn our Heads another way, and divert the thought by fixing our Eyes upon some other Objects. Cato and Brutus chose Noble ones indeed. [Page 104] A Page not long ago satisfied himself with Dancing upon the Scaffold, whither he was brought to be Broke upon the Wheel. And thus, though in the Mo­tives there was a vast difference, yet still the Effects were exactly the same. So true it is, that after all the disproportion between Great, and vulgar Minds, peo­ple of both sorts have given a World of instances, of meeting Death with the same unconcernedness. But still there is this difference observable betwixt them, that in the Contempt of Death which great Men express, the Desire and Love of Honour is the thing that blinds them; and in People of a meaner Capacity and Dispo­sition, their Ignorance and Stupidity is the thing, that keeps them from seeing the greatness of the Evil they are to suffer, and leaves them at Liberty to take their thoughts off from this Subject, and place them upon something else.

New Moral Reflections.
PART II.

I.

A Man can never Please long, that hath but one sort of Wit.

II.

Fools and Coxcombs see all by their own Humour.

III.

Wit serves sometimes to make us play the Fool with greater Confidence.

IV.

Briskness, that encreases with Old Age, is but one Degree removed from Folly.

V.

The first cure in Love is always the best.

VI.

Young Women that would not be thought Coquett, and Old Men that would not be Ridiculous, should never talk of Love, as if they had any concern in it.

VII.

We may seem Great in an Employment below our Desert, but we very often look little in one that is too Big for us.

VIII.

We often in our Misfortunes take that for Constancy and Patience, which is only Dejection of Mind; we suffer without daring to hold up our Heads, just as Cow­ards let themselves be knockt o'th' Head, because they have not Courage to strike a­gain.

IX.

Confidence goes farther in Company, than Wit.

X.

All our Passions engage us in Faults; but those are the most Ridiculous ones, that Love makes us commit.

XI.

Few Men know how to be Old.

XII.

We value our selves, and take a pride in the Faults most distant from our own: when we are fickle and irresolute, we brag of being Obstinate and Peremptory.

XIII.

A Penetrating Wit hath an Air of Di­vination, which swells our Vanity more than any other Accomplishment of the Mind.

XIV.

The Beauty of Novelty, and the length of Custom, though so very opposite to one another, yet agree in this, that they both alike keep us from discovering the Faults of our Friends.

XV.

Most Friends grow weary of their Friendship, and most of their Vows.

XVI.

We easily forgive our Friends those Faults, by which our selves are not offended.

XVII.

Women in Love can sooner forgive great Indiscretions, than small Infidelities.

XVIII.

It is with an old Love, as it is with old Age, a Man lives to all the Miseries, but is dead to all the Pleasures of Life.

XIX.

Nothing hinders a thing from being Natural, so much as the sraining our selves to make it seem so.

XX.

When we commend good Actions, we make them in some measure our own.

XXI.

The surest sign of a noble Disposition, is to have no Envy in ones Nature.

XXII.

When our Friends have deceived us, there is nothing but indifference due to the Expressions of their Kindness; but still we owe them a tender sense of their Misfortunes.

XXIII.

Fortune and Humour govern the World.

XXIV.

It is easier to know what Mankind is in general, than what any one Man is in particular.

XXV.

A Mans worth is not to be esteemed, so much according to his good Qualities, as according to the use he makes of them.

XXVI.

There is a kind of Acknowledgment, that does not only discharge us of all past Obligations, but makes our Friends our Debtors for new kindnesses, while we pay what we are indebted for old ones.

XXVII.

We should desire very few things Pas­sionately, if we did but perfectly know the Nature of the things we desire.

XXVIII.

The Reason why most Women have so little Sense of Friendship, is because this is but a cold and flat Passion, to those that have felt that of Love.

XXIX.

In Friendship as well as Love, Ignorance very often contributes more to our Happi­ness, than Knowledge.

XXX.

We attempt to Vindicate, and value our selves upon those Faults we have no design to mend.

XXXI.

The strongest Passions allow us some rest, but Vanity keeps us perpetually in Motion.

XXXII.

The older a Fool is, the worse he is.

XXXIII.

Irresolution is more opposite to Vertue, than Vice.

XXXIV.

The pains we feel from Shame and Jea­lousie are therefore so cutting, because Va­nity can give us no Assistance in the bear­ing them.

XXXV.

Decency is the least of all Laws, and yet the most followed.

XXXVI.

A good Disposition finds it easier to sub­mit to perverse ones, than to direct and manage them.

XXXVII.

When Fortune surprises a Man with a great Preferment, to which he is neither Advanced by Degrees, nor raised before by his own Hopes; it is scarce possible for one to behave himself well, and make the World think he deserves his Character.

XXXVIII.

What we cut off from our other Faults, is very often but so much added to our Pride.

XXXIX.

There are no Coxcombs so troublesome, as those that have some Wit.

XL.

Every Man thinks himself in some one good Quality or other, equal to the Person he hath the highest esteem for.

XLI.

In affairs of Consequence, it is not a Mans Business so much to seek Occasions, as to make the best of those that offer them­selves.

XLII.

Generally Speaking, it were a good saving Bargain, to renounce all the good Men said of us, upon Condition they would say no ill.

XLIII.

As much as the World is inclined to think ill of one another, we see them of­tener [Page 113] favourable to false Merit, than in­jurious to true.

XLIV.

A Man of Wit may sometimes be a Coxcomb, but a Man of Judgment never can.

XLV.

We shall get more by letting the World see us as we really are, than by striving to appear what we are not.

XLVI.

The Judgments our Enemies make con­cerning us, come nearer to the Truth, than those we pass concerning our selves.

XLVII.

Several Remedies are good to cure Love, but there is never a one of them In­fallible.

XLVIII.

We none of us know the utmost that our Passions have the Power to make us do.

XLIX.

Old Age is a Tyrant, that forbids us all the Pleasures of Youth, upon pain of Death.

L.

The same Pride that disposes us to con­demn the Faults we think our selves free from, inclines us to undervalue the good qualities we want.

LI.

The bewailing our Enemies misfor­tunes, is sometimes more the effect of Pride than of Good Nature; we express our Pity and Compassion, to make them know that we are above them.

LII.

It is impossible for us to love any thing without some respect to our selves; and we only consult our own Inclination, and our own Pleasure when we preferr our Friends before our own Interest, and yet this preference is the only thing, that can render Friendship perfect and sincere.

LIII.

What Men call Friendship, is no more than Society; 'tis only a mutual care of Interests, an exchange of good Offices. In a word, it is only a sort of Traffick, in which Self-love ever proposes to be the Gainer.

LIV.

There is an Excess both in Happiness and Misery, above our power of Sensati­on.

LV.

Innocence does not find near so much Protection, as Guilt.

LVI.

Of all violent Passions, that which does a Woman least hurt, is Love.

LVII.

Vanity prevails with us to deny our selves, more than Reason can do.

LVIII.

There are some bad Qualities, that make great Accomplishments.

LIX.

Men never desire any thing very eager­ly, which they desire only by the Dictates of Reason.

LX.

All our Qualities are Doubtful and Un­certain, both in Good and Evil; and they are almost all at the disposal of Time and Opportunity.

LXI.

At first Women love their Lover, but afterwards they love the Passion it self.

LXII.

Pride as well as other Passions, hath its unaccountable Whimsies; we are shamed to own our selves Jealous, when we are so; and yet afterwards we value our selves upon having been so, and for being ca­pable of being so.

LXIII.

As uncommon a thing as true Love is, it is yet easier to find than true Friend­ship.

LXIV.

Few Womens Worth lasts longer than their Beauty.

LXV.

The greatest part of our intimate Con­fidences, proceed from a desire either to be Pitied or Admired.

LXVI.

Our Envy always lasts longer than the good Fortune of those we Envy.

LXVII.

The same Resolution which helps to re­sist Love, helps to make it more violent and lasting too. People of unsettled Minds are always driven about with Pas­sions, but never absolutely filled with any.

LXVIII.

It is not in the Power of Imagination it self, to invent so many odd, and distant Contrarieties, as there are naturally in the Heart of every Man.

LXIX.

No Man can have a true Sweetness of Temper without Constancy and Resolution; [Page 118] they that seem to have it, have common­ly, only an easiness that quickly turns Peevish and Sowre.

LXX.

Cowardice is a dangerous Fault to tell those of that we would have mend it.

LXXI.

It ought to be agreed on all hands for the Honour of Vertue, that Mens greatest Miseries, are such as their own Vices bring upon them.

LXXII.

True good Nature is a mighty Rarety; those that fansie they have it, are com­monly no better than either weak, or complaisant.

LXXIII.

Idleness and Constancy fix the mind to what it finds easie and agreeable; this Habit always Confines and Cramps up our Notions, and no body was ever at the pains to stretch and carry his understand­ing, as far as it could go.

LXXIV.

We speak ill of other People, com­monly not so much out of Malice, as Pride.

LXXV.

When the Soul is Ruffled by the re­mains of ones Passion, it is more disposed to entertain a new one, than when it is entirely cured, and at rest from all.

LXXVI.

Those that have had great Passions, find themselves perpetually Happy and Un­happy in being cured of them.

LXXVII.

There are fewer Men free from Envy, than void of Interest.

LXXVIII.

Our minds are as much given to La­ziness, as our Bodies.

LXXIX.

The Composedness, or the Disorder of our Humour, does not depend so much up­on the great and most considerable Acci­dents [Page 120] of our Lives, as upon a suitable, or unsuitable Management of little things, that befall us every Day.

LXXX.

Though Men are extremely Wicked, yet they never had the Confidence to profess themselves Enemies to Vertue, and even when they take delight in persecuting it, they either pretend not to think it real, or forge some Faults, and lay to its charge.

LXXXI.

Men often go from Love to Ambition, but they seldom come back again from Am­bition to Love.

LXXXII.

Extream Covetousness is generally mi­staken; no Passion in the World so often misses of its Aim, nor is so much prevail­ed upon by the present, in prejudice to a future Interest.

LXXXIII.

Covetousness sometimes is the cause of quite contrary Effects. There are a world of People, that Sacrifice all [Page 121] their present Possessions to doubtful and distant Hopes; and others again slight great Advantages that are future, for the sake of some mean and pitiful gain in present.

LXXXIV.

One would think, Men could never sup­pose they had Faults enough, they are so perpetually adding to the number of them, by some particular Qualities which they affect to set themselves off with: and these they Cherish and Cultivate so care­fully, that they come at last to be Natural, and past their Power to mend, though they would.

LXXXV.

Men are more sensible of their own Failings than we are apt to imagine; for they are seldom in the Wrong, when we hear them talk of their Conduct; the same Principle of Self Love that blinds them at other times, makes them quick sighted upon these Occasions, and shews them things in so true a light, that it forces them to suppress or disguise the [Page 122] least matters, that are liable to be Con­demned.

LXXXVI.

When Youngmen come first into the World, it is fit they should be either very Modest or very Heavy; for brisk Parts, and a composed Temper commonly turn to Impertinence.

LXXXVII.

Quarrels would never last long, if there were not Faults on both sides.

LXXXVIII.

It signifies little for Women to be young, except they be Handsom, nor Handsom except they be young.

LXXXIX.

Some Persons are so extreamly Whif­fling and Inconsiderable, that they are as far from any real Faults, as they are from substantial Vertues.

XC.

A Ladies first Intrigue is never reckon'd, till she admits of a second.

XCI.

Some Men are so exceeding full of themselves, that when they fall in Love, they entertain themselves with their own Passion, instead of the Person they make Love to.

XCII.

Love, though a very agreeable Passion, pleases more by the ways it takes to shew it self, than it does upon its own Account.

XCIII.

A little Wit with a good Disposition is less Troublesome at long run, than a great deal of Wit with a perverse Tem­per.

XCIV.

Jealousie is the greatest of Evils, and meets with least pity from the Persons that occasion it.

XCV.

Men of Indifferent Parts are apt to Condemn every thing above their own Capacity.

XCVI.

Most Youngmen think they follow Na­ture, when they are Rough and ill Bred.

XCVII.

The Grace of being New is to Love, as the Gloss is to the Fruits, it gives it a Lustre, which is easily Defaced, and when once gone, never returns any more.

XCVIII.

If we look nicely into the several Ef­fects of Envy it will be found to carry a Man more from his Duty, than Interest does.

XCIX.

Most men are ashamed of having loved themselves, when they leave off doing it.

C.

A Good tast of things is more the ef­fect of Judgment, than Wit.

CI.

Men are obstinate in contradicting O­pinions generally received, not so much because they are Ignorant, as because they [Page 125] are Proud; those that are on the right side have got the upper hand, and they Scorn to take up with the lower.

CII.

Prosperous Persons seldom mend much; they always think themselves in the right, so long as Fortune approves their ill Conduct.

CIII.

Nothing should be a greater Humili­ation, to Persons that have deserved great Praises, than the Trouble they are Eternally at, to make themselves valued by poor and little things.

CIV.

Flattery is like false Money, and if it were not for our own Vanity could never pass in Payment.

CV.

The ungratefull Man is less to blame for his Ingratitude, than the Person that laid the Obligation upon him.

CVI.

Our bad Qualities commonly take better in Conversation, than our good ones.

CVII.

Men would never live so long to­gether in Society, and good Correspondence, if they did not mutually make Fools of one another.

CVIII.

What we call Passions, are in Truth nothing else, but so many different De­gees of Heat, and Cold in the Blood.

CIX.

Moderation in Prosperity is generally nothing else, but apprehension of the Shame that attends an indecent Transport, or the Fear of losing what one hath.

CX.

Moderation is like Temperance, a Man would be well enough pleased to eat more, but only he is afraid it will not agree with his Health.

CXI.

All the World thinks that a Fault in another, which they think so in them­selves.

CXII.

When Pride hath used all its Artifi­ces, and appeared in all its Shapes, and played all the parts of Humane Life, as if it were grown weary of Disguises, it pulls off the Mask, and shews its own true Face at last, and is known by its Insolence. So that properly Speaking, Insolence is the breaking out, the very Complexion, and true Discovery of Pride.

CXIII.

We are sensible only of strong Trans­ports, and extraordinary Emotions in our Humour and Constitution, as of Anger, when it is Violent, and very few discern that these Humours have a regular, and stated Course, which move our wills to different Actions by gentle and insensible Impressions. They go their rounds as it were, and command us by turns, so that a considerable part of what we do is theirs, [Page 128] though we are not able to see how it is so.

CXIV.

One considerable part of Happiness is to know how far a Man must be Unhap­py.

CXV.

If a Man cannot find ease within him­self, it is to very little purpose to seek it any where else.

CXVI.

No Man should engage for what he will do, except he could answer for his Success.

CXVII.

How should we be able to say what will please us hereafter, when we scarce know exactly what we would have at present.

CXVIII.

Justice with many Men, is only the fear of having what is our own taken from us. This makes them tender of [Page 129] their Neighbours property, and carefull not to invade it. This fear holds Men in, within the compass of that Estate, which Birth or Fortune hath given them, and [...] it not for this, they would continual­ly be making Incursions upon one ano­ther.

CXIX.

Justice in well behaved Judges, is often only the love of their Preferment.

CXX.

The first motion of Joy for the Hap­piness of our Friends, is not alwaies the Effect either of Good Nature, or Friend­ship, but of Self-love, which flatters us with the Hope, that our turn of being Happy is coming, or that we shall reap some Benefit from their Good Fortune.

CXXI.

As if the power of Transforming it self were small, Self-love does frequently transform its Objects too; and that after a very strange manner. It not only dis­guises them so Artificially, as to deceive it [Page 130] self, but it perfectly alters the Nature and Condition of the things themselves. Thus when any Person acts in opposition to us, Self-love passes Sentence upon every Acti­on with the utmost Rigour of Justice; it aggravates every Defect of his, and makes it look Monstrous and Horrible; and it sets all his Excellencies in so ill a Light, that they look more Disagreeable than his De­fects. And yet when any of our Affairs brings this Person back again to Recon­ciliation and Favour, the satisfaction we receive presently restores his Merit, and allows him all that our Aversion so lately took from him. His ill Qualities are ut­terly forgot, and his good ones appear with greater Lustre than before; nay, we summon all our Indulgence and Partiality to excuse and justifie the quarrel he for­merly had against us. This is a Truth attested by every Passion, but none gives such clear Evidence of it as Love. For we find the Lover, when full of Rage and Revenge at the Neglect or the Unfaithful­ness of his Mistress, yet lay by all the vio­lence of his Resentments, and one view [Page 131] of her calms his Passions again. His Trans­port and Joy pronounces this Beauty inno­cent, accuses himself alone, and con­demns nothing but his own condemning her before. By this strange Magical Pow­er of Self-love, the blackest and basest A­ctions of his Mistress are made White and Innocent, and he takes the fault off from Her to lay it upon Himself.

CXXII.

The most pernicious Effect of Pride, is, That it blinds Mens Eyes; for this cherishes and increases the Vice, and will not let us see any of those Remedies, that might either soften our Misfortunes, or correct our Extravagances.

CXXIII.

When once Men are past all Hopes of finding Reason from others, they grow past all reason themselves.

CXXIV.

The Philosophers, and especially Sene­ca, did not remove Mens Faults by their Instructions, but only directed them to [Page 132] contribute the more to the setting up their Pride.

CXXV.

The wisest Men commonly shew them­selves so in less matters, and generally fail in those of the greatest Consequence.

CXXVI.

The nicest Folly proceeds from the nicest Wisdom.

CXXVII.

Sobriety is very often only a Fond­ness of Health, and the Effect of a weak Constitution, which will not bear Intem­perance.

CXXVIII.

A Man never forgets things so effectu­ally, as when he hath talked himself wea­ry of them.

CXXIX.

That modesty that would seem to de­cline Praise, is at the bottom only a de­sire of having it better express'd.

CXXX.

There is this good at least in Com­mendation, that it helps to confirm Men in the practice of Vertue.

CXXXI.

We are to blame not to distinguish be­tween the several sorts of Anger, for there is one kind of it Light and Harmless, and the result of a warm Complexion; and another kind exceeding Vicious, which, if we would call it by its right Name, is the very Rage and Madness of Pride.

CXXXII.

Great Souls are not distinguished by ha­ving less Passion, and more Vertue; but by having Nobler and Greater Designs, than the Vulgar.

CXXXIII.

Self-love makes more Men Cruel, than natural Sternness, and a rough Temper.

CXXXIV.

Every Man that hath some Vices is not Despised, but every Man that hath no [Page 134] Vertue is and ought to be despised.

CXXXV.

Those that find no Disposition in them­selves to be guilty of great Faults, are not apt upon slight grounds to suspect o­thers of them.

CXXXVI.

Pompous Funerals are made more out of a design to gratifie the vanity of the Living, than to do any Honour to the Dead.

CXXXVII.

In the midst of all the uncertain and various accidents in the World, we may discern a secret Connexion, a certain Me­thod, and regular Order, constantly ob­served by Providence; which brings every thing in in its due place, and makes all con­tribute to the fullfilling the Ends appointed for it.

CXXXVIII.

Fearlessness is requisite to Bu [...]y up the mind in Wickedness, and Conspiracies, but Valour is sufficient to give a Man con­stancy [Page 135] of mind in Honourable Actions, and the Hazards of War.

CXXXIX.

No Man can engage for his own Cou­rage, who was never in any Danger that might put it upon the Tryal.

CXL.

Imitation always succeeds ill; and even those things which when Natural are most graceful and charming, when put on, and affected, we Nauseate and Despise.

CXLI.

Goodness when Universal, and shewed to all the World without distinction, is very hardly known from great Cun­ning and Address.

CXLII.

The way to be always safe, is to possess other People with an Opinion, that they can never do an ill thing to us, without suffering for it.

CXLIII.

A Man's own Confidence in himself makes up a great part of that Trust which he hath in others.

CXLIV.

There is a kind of General Revolution, not more visible in the turn it gives to the fortunes of the World, than it is in the Change of Mens Understandings, and the Different relish of Wit.

CXLV.

Magnanimity is a bold stroke of Pride, by which a Man gets above himself, in order to get above every thing else.

CXLVI.

Luxury and too great Delicacy in a State, is a sure sign that their Affairs are in a declining Condition, for when Men are so Nice and Curious in their own concerns, they mind nothing but private Interest, and take off all their care from the Publick.

CXLVII.

Of all the Passions we are exposed to, none is more concealed from our Know­ledge than Idleness. It is the most Vio­lent, and the most Mischievous of any, and yet at the same time its Violence we are never sensible of, and the damage we sustain by it is very seldom seen. If we consider▪ its Power carefully, it will be found upon all Occasions to Reign absolute over all our Sentiments, our In­terests, and our Pleasures. This is a Re­mora that can stop the largest Ships, and a Calm of worse consequence to our Affairs, than any Rocks, and Storms. The Ease and Quiet of Sloth, is a secret charm upon the Soul, to suspend its most eager pursuits, and shakes its most peremptory Resolutions. In a Word, to give a true Image of this Passion, we must say, that it is a supposed Felicity of the Soul, that makes her easie under all her Losses, and supplies the Place of all her Enjoyments and Advan­tages.

CXLVIII.

There are several Vertues made up of many different Actions, cast into such a convenient Order by Fortune, as she thought fit.

CXLIX.

Most Women yield more through Weakness than Passion; and this is the Reason, that bold daring Men commonly succeed better than others, who have as much or more Merit to recommend them.

CL.

The Sincerity, which Lovers and their Ladies Bargain for, in agreeing to tell one another, when they can Love no longer, is not asked so much out of a desire to be Satisfied, when their Love is at an End; as to be the better assured, that Love does really continue, so long as they are told nothing to the contrary.

CLI.

Love cannot be compared to any thing more properly, than to a Fever; for in [Page 139] both Cases, both the Degree, and the continuance of the Disease is out of a Man's own Power.

CLII.

Most young People impute that Beha­viour to a Natural and easie Fashion, which in Truth proceeds from no other Cause, than the Want of good Breeding and good Sense.

Maxims and Mixed Thoughts.
PART III.

Maxims. I.

AS nothing betrays greater weakness and want of Reason than to submit ones Judgment to another Man's without any Examination, or Conside­ration of our own; so nothing Argues a great Spirit, and true Wisdom, more than the submitting to Almighty God with an absolute and implicit Faith, and believing whatever he saies upon the single Authority of his own Word.

II.

True worth does not depend upon [Page 141] Times nor Fashions. They that have only the Advantage of a Court Air, any where else are no better than their Neigh­bours. But good Sence, Learning, and Wisdom, are Qualifications that recom­mend a Man▪ and make him Valued every where, and at all times.

III.

Instead of applying our selves to know others, we mind nothing else, but the making our selves known. It would turn to much better Account, to hear and so get more Knowledge; than to talk all, that we may Publish what we have got already.

IV.

It is sometimes of great Vse for a Man to pretend he is Deceived: For when we let a Subtile Fellow see that we are sen­sible of his Tricks, it gives him Occasion to play more.

V.

Men Judge of things so very Slightly and Superficially, that the most Ordinary [Page 142] Words and Actions set off with a good Grace, and some little Knowledge how matters go in the World, very often take more, than the most Profound Wis­dom.

VI.

To be very much dissatisfied with a Man's self is a Weakness. But to be highly pleased with ones Self, is down-right Folly.

VII.

Men of mean Capacities, and ill Breed­ing, but especially your half witted Fel­lows, and dablers in Books, are most apt to be Stiff and Peremptory. None but manly Souls can unsay what they have said, and forsake an Errour when they find themselves on the wrong side.

VIII.

A Man's greatest Wisdom consists in being acquainted with his own Follies.

IX.

Honesty and Sincerity in our Dealings puts ill Men out of their Byass, it breaks [Page 143] all their Measures by which they hoped to compass their Ends; for Knaves com­monly think, that nothing can be done, but by Knavery.

X.

It is a hard task upon Knaves to be perpetually Employed in concealing their own Want of Sincerity, and making a­mends for the breaches of their Promise.

XI.

They that do all by Tricking, ought however to consult their own Reason so far, as to convince themselves, that such a Behaviour cannot go long undetected where [...]en ar [...] Ingenious, and always upon the Watch to discover them; tho' they may see fit to pretend they are im­posed upon for a while, only to Dissem­ble their being sensible of the Cheat.

XII.

Our Kindnesses sometimes create us more Enemies, and the Ungrateful Man is seldom so by halves; for he is not satisfied with not paying the acknowledge­ment [Page 144] that is due; but is uneasy, that his Benefactour lives a Witness of his In­gratitude.

XIII.

Nothing can give us so just a Notion of the depravity of Mankind in General, as an exact Knowledge of our own Cor­ruptions in particular. If we reflect up­on our Thoughts, we shall find the seeds of all Vice within our own Breasts, and if we do not act it all, yet 'tis plain we are moved to it. For there is no kind of ill, but Self-Love offers to us to make Use of as Occasion shall serve. And few are so Vertuous as to be above Temptation.

XIV.

Riches do by no means teach us to be less fond of Riches. The possessing of a Abundance is very far from giving us the quiet, that there is in not desiring them.

XV.

None but little Souls are disturbed at having their Ignorance Reproved, and the [Page 145] Reason is, That being generally very Blind, and Foolish, they never trouble themselves with Doubts, and are fully sa­tisfied, they see those things clearly which they have but a very Dark and imperfect Sense of, and see only through the thick Mist of a clouded Understanding.

XVI.

It is every whit as unreasonable, for a Man to accuse himself for his Faults ex­travagantly, as it is to excuse himself so. Those that blame themselves so very much, do it very often, because they cannot en­dure to be Blamed by any body else; or else out of a vain Humour, to perswade People that they are duly sensible of their own Failings.

XVII.

It argues great Wisdom owne our own Faults and our Perfections sincerely. And is a weakness, not to allow both the Good and the Bad Qualities that we really have.

XVIII.

The World is so fond of every thing, that is fresh and uncommon, that Men take secret Pleasure, and find Entertain­ment, even in the sight of the Dismallest and most tragical Accidents; and that, partly because they are New, and partly from a principal of ill Nature that is in us.

XIX.

Men might come to a tolerable good Knowledge of themselves, but they sel­dom take the pains of enquiring into themselves, so much as is necessary for the attaining it; and they are more Sollici­tous to be thought what they should be, than really to be what they should be.

XX.

If People were but as carefull to be what they ought, as to seem so and im­pose upon others, by concealing what in truth they are; they might shew them­selves boldly, and save a world of trouble which Dissimulation puts them to.

XXI.

There is no Man, but may find great Advantage from Learning; but then it is as true, that there are few who do not find great prejudice too, from the No­tions they acquire by Studies, except they use them, as if they were natural to them.

XXII.

There is a certain Temper very nice to hit, in our Courage to Persons above us, so as to allow our selves all the Free­dom, that is necessary to divert and en­tertain them; and yet to take none that may be any way offensive, or break in upon the Honour and Respect due to their Quality.

XXIII.

Men are often more desirous to seem forward and busie to serve others, than to be successfull in it, and had rather have it in their power to upbraid their Friends with an Obligation, than really to oblige them.

XXIV.

Men are sometimes beholding to want of Judgment for good Success, for a judicious Person would not venture upon several attempts, which mere want of Consideration frequently makes Men For­tunate in.

XXV.

Former times are sometimes cryed up, only to run down the present, and we va­lue what is now no more, that we may slight that which is.

XXVI.

There is a kind of commanding Pow­er, in Mens manner of Speaking, and in their Actions; some thing that makes its own way where ever it comes, and en­gages respect and attention before Hand. It is of use upon all occasions, and so great, as even to carry whatever one hath a mind to.

XXVII.

This commanding Faculty, so usefull upon all occasions, is no other, than a [Page 149] gracefull Authority proceeding From a Greatness and Elevation of Soul.

XXVIII.

Self-love is often cheated by its own self; for when it considers its own Interests it so wholly overlooks, the Interest of o­thers, as thereby to lose all the Advan­tage, that might be made, by the Ex­change of kindnesses between Man and Man.

XXIX.

All the World are so entirely taken up with their own Passions, and their own Interests, that they are Eternally full of them in all their Discourse, without ever concerning themselves with the Passion or Interest of the Persons they speak to, tho they too have the same occasion for Au­dience and Assistance.

XXX.

The Ties of Vertue ought to be more Sacred and Close, than those of Blood. For one good Man is nearer of Kin to a­nother by the Resemblance of their man­ners, [Page 150] than Father and Son are by the Re­semblance of Faces.

XXXI.

One great Reason, why we meet with so few agreeable Persons, and that Con­verse like Men of Sense, is, That almost every Body is more intent upon what himself hath a mind to say, than upon making pertinent Replies to what the rest of the Company say to him. Those that are most Complaisant, go no farther than pretending to hearken Attentively, when at the same time a Man may plainly see, that both their Eyes and their Minds are roving, from what is said to them, and posting back again to what they long to be at themselves. Whereas we ought to know, that to seek ones own Pleasure so very Passionately, can never be the way to please the Company. And that Diligent Attention and proper Repartees are a much greater Accomplishment, than discoursing never so well, when this is done without ever attending, or answering to the mat­ter then in Hand.

XXXII.

Good Fortune almost alwaies alters the Proceedings and the Air of a Man, and makes him quite another thing in all his Behaviour and Conversation. This is a great weakness to trick and set ones self off with what is not our own. If Vertue were esteemed above all other things, no Favour, no Advancement would be able to change Men either in their Temper or their Countenance.

XXXIII.

We should use our selves to other Peo­ples Follies, and not take offence at eve­ry Impertinence, that passes in our Com­pany.

XXXIV.

A great Soul takes whatever Happens, and there is as much Wisdom in bearing with other Peoples Defects, as in being sensible of their good Qualities.

XXXV.

It is a great Argument of an extraor­dinary Judgment, when a Man is able to [Page 152] discover, what is in anothers Breast, and to conceal what is in his own.

XXXVI.

Talking all is so great a Fault, that in Business and Conversation, if what is good be short, it is for that reason doubly good; and a Man gains that by Brevity, which would often be lost by being Te­dious.

XXXVII.

We generally gain an Ascendant, and are Masters over those we are very well acquainted with; because the Man that is perfectly known, is in some measure subjected to the Person that knows him.

XXXVIII.

Study and the Enquiry after Truth, hath very often only this Effect, That it makes us know Experimentally how Ig­norant we are by Nature.

XXXIX.

Men are most esteemed when the World does not know the utmost of their Abili­ties. For things that are understood but [Page 153] by halves, are always presumed greater than really they are.

XL.

The desire of being thought a Wise Man very often hinders one from being so, for such a one is more Sollicitous to let the World see what Knowledge he hath, than to learn that which he Wants.

XLI.

Littleness of Soul, and Ignorance, and Presumption make People Obstinate in their Opinions; for Opinionative Men will believe nothing but what they can Comprehend; and there are but very few things that they are able to Com­prehend.

XLII.

To disown our Faults, when we are told of them, is but to make them more and greater.

XLIII.

We should not Regard how much Good a Friend hath done us, so much as how much he Desired and Endeavour­ed to do us.

XLIV.

Though we ought not to Love our Friends, only for the Good they do us, yet it is a plain Case, they love not Us, if they do not do us Good, when they have it in their Power.

XLV.

It is neither any great Reflection nor Commendation to say a Mans Wit is, or is not in the Fashion. For if it be what it ought to be at any Time, it continues to be so at all Times.

XLVI.

The Love of a Mans Self is Generally the Rule and Measure of all our Friend­ship to others. It supersedes all Duties and Obligations, where Interest is concern­ed; and lays down all Resentments against our Enemies, how just soever the Causes of them were, when they are considera­ble enough to Promote our Honour, or our Fortunes.

XLVII.

It is but an idle and useless Trouble, to make great Enquiries what is done in the [Page 155] World, except all this tend to the reform­ing of ones Self.

XLVIII.

Circumstances and outward Appear­ances procure a Man frequently more Respect, than real Worth, and a good Bottom. An ungracefull Fashion spoils all, even Justice and Reason it Self. The best part of things depends upon the How, and the Air we give them, Gilds, Accommodates and Sweetens the most Ungrateful Matters. All this is owing to the Weakness, and the Prepossessions of Mens Judgments.

XLIX.

We should make the Follies of Others, rather a Warning and Instruction to our Selves, than a Subject of Mirth, and Mockery of those that commit them.

L.

The Conversation of Men that are of a Dogmatical and Governing Spirit is the troublesomest thing that can be. We should be always ready to submit to the [Page 156] Truth, and receive it readily, let it come from what Hand it will.

LI.

A Man may learn as much by other Peoples Faults, as by their Instructions. The Examples of Imperfection are in a man­ner as Usefull towards the making a Man Perfect, as those of Wisdom and Perfecti­on.

LII.

We are better pleased with those that strive to imitate us, than with those that Endeavour to Equal us. For imitation ar­gues Esteem, but a desire of Equality ar­gues Envy.

LIII.

'Tis a very commendable piece of [...] to make a Denial go down well [...] soft and civil Expressions, and [...] supply the Kindness we cannot Grant.

LIV.

There are a sort of Persons that say No so very Naturally, that their No always Ushers in whatever they are about to [Page 157] say. This makes them so disagreeable, that though they be prevailed upon with much Importunity to grant any request, yet all the Grace and the Commendation of such Grants are utterly lost by so very untoward a beginning.

LV.

All things ought not to be Granted, nor all Men to be Gratified. It is alto­gether as commendable, to deny upon a just Occasion, as to give in due Season. This makes some Peoples No better re­ceived, than other Peoples Yes. A De­nial when managed with good Nature and softened with Civility, gives more Satisfaction to a Man of Understand­ing, than a Favour coldly and rudely Granted.

LVI.

There is a great deal of Wisdom re­quired in the Choice of good Council, as well as in the being able to advise ones own self. Men of the best Judgment are al­ways most ready to consult the Opinions of others, and it is one Eminent instance [Page 158] of Wisdom to submit ones self to the good Conduct of a Friend.

LVII.

The Doctrines of Christianity, which ought to be derived only from the Truths contained in the Gospel, are Generally re­presented to us, according to the Temper and Complexion of our Teachers. Some out of an exceeding tenderness and Good Nature, and others from a sour and rugged Disposition, form and employ the Justice and Mercy of God, just according to their own Apprehensions of things.

LVIII.

In the Study of humane Learning our Soul ought always to preserve its own Freedom, and not inslave it self to other Peoples Fancies. The Liberty of the Judgment should have its full Scope, and not take any thing upon Trust, from the Credit of any Man's Authority. When diffe­rent Opinions are proposed to us, we should consider and choose, if there are such odds between them, as to admit of a Choice; [Page 159] and if there be not, then we should con­tinue in suspence still.

LIX.

Contradiction should awaken our Atten­tion and Care, but not our Passion. Those that oppose us ought rather to be heard, than avoided. For we must be of no In­terest but that of Truth, after what man­ner so ever she happen to Discover her self to us.

LX.

Ostentation and Pride upon the account of Honours and Preferments, is much more offensive, than upon any personal Qualifications. It argues, Men do not de­serve Great Places, when they can Value themselves upon them, if a Man would be truly Valued, the way to it is by be­ing illustriously Good. For even the greatest Men are more respected for the Eminence of their Parts and Vertue, than for that of their Fortune.

LXI.

There is nothing so mean, but hath [Page 160] some Perfection. It is the peculiar hap­piness of a discerning Palate, to find out each thing's particular Excellence. But the malice of our corrupt Nature puts us often­times upon discovering one Vice among many Vertues, that so we may Aggravate and Proclaim that to their Disparagement. Now this is not so much an Argument of a Nice Judgment, as of a Base Disposition; and that Man hath but an ill Life on't, who feeds himself with the Faults and Frailties of other People.

LXII.

There is a particular way of hearken­ing to ones Self, that is ever displeasing; for it is as great a Folly to hear ones self in Company, as to talk all, and hear no Body but ones Self.

LXIII.

A Man is but little the better for liking himself, when no Body else likes him. For an Immoderate Love of ones Self is very often chastised by Contempt from others.

LXIV.

There is always under the greatest Devotion, a proportion of Self-love con­cealed, great enough to set bounds to our Charity.

LXV.

Some People are so Blind, and flatter themselves to so great a Degree, that they always believe what they with, and think to make every body believe what they have a mind to; though the Arguments they would perswade with are never so poor and weak, their prepossessions are so strong that they think they need only talk Loud and Big, and be very positive, to make all the World of their Opini­on.

LXVI.

Ignorance creates Irresolution and Fear, Learning makes Men Bold and assured, but nothing disturbs a Mind that is truly wise and knows how to distinguish things rightly.

[Page 156] [...] [Page 157] [...] [Page 158] [...] [Page 159] [...] [Page 160] [...] [Page 161] [...]

LXVII.

It is a general Failing, that Men ne­ver think their own Fortunes too great, nor their own Wit too little.

LXVIII.

There cannot be a meaner thing, than to take Advantage of ones Quality and Greatness, to ridicule and insult over those of an inferiour Condition.

LXIX.

When a Positive Man hath once be­gun to dispute any thing, his mind is barred up against all light and better In­formation, Opposition provokes him, tho there be never so good ground for it, and he seems to be afraid of nothing more, than lest he should be convinced of the Truth.

LXX.

The Shame of being commended with­out any Desert, sometimes puts Men up­on doing, what otherwise they would ne­ver have once attempted to do.

LXXI.

It is much better that great Persons should thirst after Honour; nay, that they should even be vain upon the account of doing well, than that they should be wholly clear of this Passion; for though the good they do, proceeds not from a principle of Vertue, yet the World how­ever hath this Advantage, that their Va­nity makes them do, what, if they were not vain, they would not have done.

LXXII.

They that are so Foolish, as to value themselves merely for their Quality, do in a great measure slight that very thing, that gave them their Quality; for, though they receive it by descent now, yet it was the Virtue of their Ancestors that first ennobled their blood.

LXXIII.

Self-love makes us impose upon our selves in almost every kind of thing: We hear Faults condemned by other People; nay, we often condemn them with our own Mouths, and yet take no care to a­mend [Page 164] them; and that either because we are not sensible of the Ill that we carry about us, or else that we look upon our own Ills through false Glasses, and mistake them for something that is Good.

LXXIV.

It is no Consequence, that a Man is Ver­tuous, because we see him do vertuous Actions. We are grateful for a Kindness sometimes, only to serve our selves; the Reputation of Gratitude and to gain an Advantage of being more boldly ungrate­ful for some other Favours, which we are not inclined to acknowledge.

LXXV.

When great Men hope to make the World believe, they have some Excel­lence which really they have not; it is a thing of ill Consequence to shew that we suspect them. For when you destroy their hopes of passing upon the World, you at the same time destroy all their desires to do those good Actions, that are agree­able to the Vertues they would be thought to have.

LXXVI.

The best disposition when untaught is always blind and unsettled. A Man ought to take all imaginable care to in­form himself, that his ignorance may make him neither Childishly fearful, nor Ridiculously confident.

LXXVII.

The mutual Society, and indeed the Friendship of most Men, is no better than a mere Trading Correspondence, kept up just as long as their own occasions make it necessary.

LXXVIII.

Though the generality of Friendships contracted in the World do by no means deserve the Honourable Name of Friend­ship; yet a Man may very well make his best of them as he sees occasion, as of a Trade that is not fixed upon any sure Fund, and where nothing is more usual, than to find our selves cheated.

LXXIX.

Wheresoever Love is real, it is the governing of Passion. It perfectly forms the Soul, the Affections, and the Vnder­standing after its own Model. Its being greater or less does not depend upon the Capacity of the Person, of whom it hath taken Possession, but upon its own Strength and Proportion; and in truth, Love seems to bear the same relation to the Person in Love, that the Soul bears to the Body animated by it.

LXXX.

Love hath such peculiar distinguishing Qualities, that it can neither be concealed, where it really is, nor counterfeited, where it really is not.

LXXXI.

All Diversions that are very Entertain­ing, are of dangerous consequence to Christianity; but of all that the World hath found out, none should be more cautiously used, than Plays. They give so nice, so natural a Representation of the [Page 167] Passions, that they really beget and in­spire them, and especially that of Love, when it is described, as a modest and a vertuous Passion. For the more Innocent it appears to Innocent Persons, the more still they find themselves disposed to re­ceive and submit to it. They fansie to themselves a Sense of Honour, and at the same time, that this is no way injured by so discreet an Affection. Thus people rise from a Play with their Hearts so full of the softnesses of Love, and their Judg­ments so satisfied of its Innocence, that they are in a perfect Disposition to take in its first impressions readily, or rather in­deed to seek and court occasions of infect­ing some body else with it, that so they may receive the same Pleasures and the same Devotions which they have seen so movingly represented upon the Stage.

Mixed Thoughts.
PART IV.

I.

SElf Love, according as it is rightly or otherwise, understood and apply­ed, is the cause of all the Moral Ver­tues, and Vices in the World.

II.

That Prudence, which is made Use of in the good management of Men's Affairs, when taken in its true Sense, is only a Wise and more Judicious Love of our selves; and the opposite to this, is perfect Blindness and Inconsideration.

III.

Though it may be said with great Truth upon this Principle, that Men ne­ver [Page 169] act without a regard to their own Interest, yet will it be no Consequence from thence, that all they do is corrupt, and no such thing as Justice nor Honesty left in the World. Men may Govern themselves by noble Ends, and propose Interests full of Commendation and Ho­nour. And indeed, the very thing, that Denominates any Person a Man of Justice and Honour is this just distinction of Self-Love, regulated as it ought to be. When though all things are done with respect to his own Advantage at last, yet still this is with a due Allowance and reser­vation to the Laws of Civil Society.

IV.

The Love of our Neighbour is the Wisest and most Useful good Quality in the World; It is every Whit, as necessary in Civil Societies for our happiness in the present Life, as Christianity hath made it in Order to that of the next Life.

V.

Honour and Disgrace, are but Empty and Imaginary things, if we take them a­part [Page 170] from those real Advantages and Mis­fortunes that attend them.

VI.

Those that give themselves a World of Trouble, and that tempt a World of Dangers, merely for the sake of trasmit­ing a great Name to after ages, are, in my Opinion, very Whimsical People. All this Honour and Reputation which they look upon as boundless, is yet confined within a little Room in their own Imagi­nation. For this crowds all Posterity into one Age, by setting those Men before their Eyes as if they were all present to­gether, which they shall never live to see nor enjoy.

VII.

This Maxim, That the most secret things are discovered at one time or other, is (to say the least of it) very uncertain; for we can only judge of what we do not know, by what we know already; and consequently what we do not yet know can give us no farther light into it.

VIII.

Nothing conduces more to the making our Life happy, than to know things as they really are; And this Wisdom must be acquired by frequent Reflections upon Men, and the Affairs of the World; for o­therwise Books will contribute but little to it.

IX.

Almost all the miseries of Life are ow­ing to the false Notions Men have of the World, and all that is done in it.

X.

True Eloquence is good Sense, deli­vered in a Natural, and unaffected way. That which must be set off with Tropes and Ornaments, is acceptable, only be­cause the Generality of Men are easily imposed upon, and see things but by halves.

XI.

Maxims are to the Minds, just what a Staff is to the Body, when a Man cannot support himself by his own Strength. [Page 172] Men of sound Sense that see things in their full and just Proportions, have no need of General Observations to help them out.

XII.

The great Characters of being Men of Honour and Justice are very often ground­ed more upon Forms, and a knack of ap­pearing to be such, than any true and solid Worth.

XIII.

Those that have the accomplishments Essential to the making a good Man, supposing they need no Art, neglect For­malities; Act more according to Nature, and consequently more in the Dark. For those that judge of them, have something else to do, than to examine them; and so they pronounce Sentence only according to outward appearances.

XIV.

No Man can be perfectly Just and Good without a great Measure of Sense and Right Reason, which will always car­ry [Page 173] him to Choose the juster side in every Action of his Life. And it is a Foolish thing to extol wicked Men, and Knaves, as the World commonly do, for Persons of Wit and Understanding. Such People have only one part of that Sound Sense; which is the reason why they are success­ful upon some Occasions, but imperfect and at a loss upon a Thousand others.

XV.

Courage in Men, and Chastity in Wo­men, are esteemed the principal Vertues of each Sex, because they are the hardest to practise: When these Vertues want either that Constitution, or that Grace that should sustain and keep them up, they soon grow weak, and are presently sacrificed to the Love of Life and Plea­sure.

XVI.

You shall scarce meet with a Master, but cries out, upon all Servants, that they are Rogues and the Plagues of a Family; and if Servants ever come to be Masters, they will say just the same thing. The Reason [Page 174] is, because generally, it is not the Qua­lities, but the Fortunes of Men, that makes the difference between them.

XVII.

People do not make it their Business to be in the right so much as to be thought so; This makes them stickle so stifly for their own Opinions, even then when they know and are satisfied they are false.

XVIII.

Errours sometimes have as long a run, as the greatest Truths. Because, when these Errours are once received for Truths Men admit whatever makes for them with an implicit Consent; and re­ject or overlook all that is capable of un­deceiving them.

XIX.

Tricking and Lying are as sure Marks of a Low and Poor Spirit, as false Money is of a Poor and Low Purse.

XX.

When once Men, that are under a Vow of Devotion engage themselves in the [Page 175] Business of the World, without absolute necessity for so doing, they give us great cause to suspect the reality of their Devo­tion.

XXI.

All Devotion, which is not grounded upon Christian Humility, and the Love of our Neighbour, is no better than Form and Pretence; 'tis only the Pride and Peevishness of Philosophy, which thinks by despising the World, to revenge it self up­on all the Contempt and Dissatisfactions, Men have met with from it.

XXII.

The Devotion of Ladies growing in­to Years, is frequently no better, than a little kind of Decency taken up to shelter themselves from the shame and the jest of a Fading Beauty; and to secure in every change, something that may still recom­mend them to the World.

XXIII.

Devotion is a Temper of the Mind purely Spiritual and derives it self from [Page 176] God. Consequently, it is a very Nice thing, and ought to be observed very nar­rowly, and with exceeding Caution, by those that would keep themselves from be­ing deceived in it.

XXIV.

The highest Pitch of Perfection, that Men are capable of, is to be throughly acquainted with their own Weakness, their Vanity, and Misery; and the less Wit any one hath, the less he knows of these Matters.

XXV.

There is a sort of Ignorance, that knows nothing at all, and yet is not near so de­spicable, as that kind of Ignorance, which is full of Errour and Impertinence, and passes upon a great many for Learning and Knowledge.

XXVI.

Too servile a Submission to the Books and opinions of the Ancients as if these were Eternal Truths revealed by God himself; hath spoiled many an ingenious Man, and [Page 177] plagued the World with abundance of Pedants.

XXVII.

If we set aside those Cases, in which Religion is concerned, a Man ought to measure his Studies and his Books by the Standard of his own Reason, and not en­slave his Reason to his Books.

XXVIII.

Studious Men propose to themselves the filling their heads with Notions, that they may talk Fluently and Nicely, and be ta­ken notice of in the World; more than their own real improvement, and better infor­mation, that they might be Qualified to make a right Judgment of things.

XXIX.

Such words as Sympathize, Je ne scay quoy's, Occult Qualities, and a Thousand more of the same kind, have no Sense nor Signification at all. A Man is won­derfully deceived, if he Fansies himself one jot the Wiser for them. They were only found out to supply the want of [Page 178] Reason, and to be Used, when we would fain say something, but indeed have no­thing to say.

XXX.

We attribute more to Reason, than is her due. She frequently Usurps what of Right belongs to our Constitution; and would have but few Advantages if she had no more than are strictly her own.

XXXI.

It is but very seldom, that Reason cures our Passions but one Passion is commonly cured by another. Reason indeed often strikes in with the strongest side. And there is no Passion so Extravagant, but hath its Reason ready to keep it in Countenance.

XXXII.

Good and Right Reason is a Light in the Mind, by which it Discerns things as they are in themselves. But in this World this Light is encompassed, and darkned by a thousand Mists and Clouds.

XXXIII.

Reputation would not be so highly valued, if we did but duly consider, how very unjust Men are, both in the giving and the taking of it away again. We should be sure to deserve it by doing well, and when that care is once taken, not be over anxious about the success.

XXXIV.

Too tender a Sense of what other People say ill of us does but entertain the Malice of the World, which desires no­thing more than that it may disturb us.

XXXV.

The absolute want of such a Sense, so as to be moved at nothing they say, is a contrary extream, that produces the same effect. This is such a sort of Contempt, as the World is concerned to revenge it self upon.

XXXVI.

There is a middle State, and a Tem­per to be found between these two Ex­treams, which inclines the World to make [Page 180] allowances for some Actions in one Man, which yet they condemn without any Mercy in others. This makes the migh­ty difference between Ladies, that yet have taken the same Liberties. So that some are run down and it is Scandalous to be seen in their Company, and others are esteemed as chast as Nuns, and no re­flections cast upon them.

XXXVII.

That pure Platonick Love which some Persons Fansie to themselves, is all ima­gination and delusion. The Body hath a greater share in this Passion, than the Mind.

XXXVIII.

It is no strange thing, that some Nati­ons who wanted the Light of the Gospel should worship Love for a God: for in­deed the Effects and the Resentments of it, are very odd, very extraordinary, and such as seem to exceed the Power of Nature.

XXXIX.

The Conversation of fine Women puts a Man's Salvation upon greater Hazard than the softest and most moving Plays. Those are the Original, these only the Image and Copy; Those kindle and in­spire the Passions, these only awake and entertain them.

XL.

Plays and Musick would have but few admirers, if one had never felt Love, nor any other Passions.

XLI.

It is a common thing to imagine we love a Man of great Interest and Fortune, with a very sincere Passion; But this is what we cannot be sure of till he be stripp'd of all the advantages of Power and Greatness. Then one quickly discerns what it was that engaged our affections. If Interest were at the Bottom of it, though Honour may keep it up for some time, yet it quickly grows weary, and lets it fall to the Ground.

XLII.

Gratitude is the Vertue of Wise and Generous Minds.

XLIII.

Ingratitude is the Fault of Fools and Clowns.

XLIV.

There are some sort of People, that never look into a Book, and yet with their own stock of Natural Parts, have a better Sense of things that depend upon clear and true Reason, than some great and Bookish Professors.

XLV.

Good Sense and Reason ought to be the Umpire of all Rules both Ancient and Mo­dern; whatever does not agree with this Standard cannot be Sterling.

XLVI.

Nature was given to exercise the Philo­sophers, like some dark Riddle; every one makes his own Sense the Key, and out of that contrives his own System. He that [Page 183] by these Principles explains most difficul­ties, may be allowed thus far to Value himself, that he hath hit upon the most probable Opinion.

XLVII.

Bodily Pain is the only Evil attending humane Life that is Past the Power of Reason, either to cure, or to asswage.

XLVIII.

Fortune gives out the parts Men are to play upon this Stage of the World blindly, and just according to her own unaccountable Humour; This is the Rea­son, why there is so much ill acting; be­cause Men very seldom hit upon those Characters that are fit for them. Or to speak in a more Christian Style, what we call Fortune, is no other than the Provi­dence of God, which permits those disor­ders, for Reasons which we are not able to comprehend.

XLIX.

Reason and Experience ought always to go Hand in Hand in the Discovery of Nature.

L.

If frequent Meditations upon Death, do not make us better Men, yet methinks they should moderate our Passions howe­ver, and put some restraint upon our Avarice and Ambition.

LI.

Every thing in this Life is accidental, even our Birth that brings us into it, Death is the only thing we can be sure of. And yet we behave our selves, just as if all the rest were certain, and Death alone acci­dental.

LII.

Life is good in its own Nature, the greatest good in the World, but the most unthriftily squander'd away, and it is not of this, but our own Extravagance that we have reason to complain.

LIII.

Nothing is so hard to perswade Men to, as the Contempt of Riches, except ones arguments be drawn from the Stores of Christian Religion.

LIV.

The Wise-men among the Ancients were in truth very Foolish, who without any Light of Faith, or expectation of a better State, despised Riches and Plea­sures: They endeavoured to distinguish themselves, by uncommon and unnatural Notions; and so to Triumph over the rest of Mankind, by an imaginary Ele­vation of Soul. Those that were the Wisest among them were satisfied with talking of these things in Publick, but be­haved themselves after another kind of Rate in Private.

LV.

There is a grave, contrived sort of Folly highly satisfied with it self, that car­ries an Air of Wisdom a Thousand times more Troublesome and Impertinent, than that Humorsome and Diverting Folly, which never thinks at all.

LVI.

The Contempt of certain Death, where there is no Christianity to support and justi­fie [Page 186] it, does by no means deserve that Admiration or Honour that have been thought its due: In good earnest when one comes to take a closer and stricter view of it, it is rathar an Extravagance, that any greatness or constancy of Mind.

LVII.

The art of pleasing in Company, is not to explain things too particularly; to express only one half, and leave your Hearers to make out the rest. This ar­gues you have a good Opinion of the Persons you converse with; and nothing is more agreeable to Men's Love of them­selves.

LVIII.

The Ground of almost all our false reasonings, is, that we seldom look any farther, than one side of the Question. Whereas, if a Man would do his argu­ment right, he ought to consider it in its utmost Latitude.

LIX.

There are so many excellencies, so ma­ny Beauties in Nature that if any be super­fluous, it is not because there are too ma­ny, but because we choose, and use them ill.

LX.

The Circumstances of those, who are intrusted with the Treasures and the Councils of Princes, are much less fickle, than theirs that are to provide for their Diversions. Men are not always in the Hu­mour to take their Pleasure, but they are always disposed to Honour and Riches.

LXI.

The highest Wisdom, is for a Man to be sensible, that he wants it.

LXII.

There is no such thing as true Wisdom in this World, except that which instructs us in Christian Morality. For this if we ab­stract from all the supports of Faith, and advantages of Religion, is of it self the [Page 188] most pure and perfect Rule of Life in the World.

LXIII.

The Vulgar value and cry up Actions and other Things, not only for their ex­cellence, but more Generally for the un­commonness of them; and this gives oc­casion to all the false Methods Men take to gain the Approbation of the World.

LXIV.

The Court is the Peculiar where Am­bition is Supream. All other Passions even Love it Self, and all Laws Truckle under her; and there are no sorts of Unions but she can both knit Together, and break asunder.

LXV.

Ambitious Men cheat themselves, when they fix upon any Ends for their Ambi­tion, those Ends, when they are attained to, are converted into means, subordinate to something farther.

LXVI.

A Good Character, in which all the World agrees, and which continues a great while is seldom False.

LXVII.

The Opinion of those Philosophers, that will have Beasts to be in no Degree more than Machines, which move themselves, is exceeding hard to conceive; but that of some other Philosophers, who assign them a Soul that is Corporeal, and yet not a Body neither, is altogether incompre­hensible.

LXVIII.

A great Reputation is a great Charge very hard for a Man to acquit himself well of; an obscure Life is more Natural, and more Easie.

LXIX.

Diogenes, that made Choice of a Tub for his dwelling, was a Fool, but so much the more exquisite and refined, as he thought himself, and expected the World [Page 190] should Esteem him so much Wiser than the rest of Mankind.

LXX.

Great Offices and great Honours are most truly said to be great Burdens; their Slavery of them is but so much the great­er, because it concerns the Service of the Publick, and the People are a Master scarce ever to be satisfied.

LXXI.

They that are Eternally canting upon Vertue in all Companies, are commonly great Boasters, and great Knaves. The mighty pains which the Men of the Age take to commend Vertue, is sometimes a shrewd sign, that they take but very lit­tle to practise it.

LXXII.

Truth discovers it self to young Princes, no longer than while they are Young, and under Age. It flies a Crown, and vanishes out of Sight, as soon as they come to be invested with Power. If these first Years be not made Use of to give [Page 191] them good Advice and Instruction, there will be no retrieving it in the following part of their Lives. For all then goes off in mere Juggle and Disguise.

LXXIII.

The perfect Knowledge a Man hath of his Misery and Imperfections gives a great and just occasion for Humility to­wards God; but so it does also for the de­spising of others, who are not so Wise as our selves.

LXXIV.

Raillery is harder to be born than In­juries, because it is an allowable thing to be concerned at Injuries, but a ridiculous one to be angry at a Jest.

LXXV.

Raillery is an Injury disguised full of Malice an Ill-nature, which is endured with so much less parience, as it sh [...]ws, that they who use it, would be thought above us.

LXXVI.

Princes and Persons in Eminent Stations will do well to be exceeding reserved, as to this part of Conversation. The resent­ments of Their raillery are the more Dangerous, because kept more concealed, and that Men are ever contriving some private ways of Revenge for it.

LXXVII.

Raillery very often betrays want of Wit: Men call it in to their Relief, when they have nothing of Sense and Argu­ment left, to say for themselves.

LXXVIII.

A great many People are fond of Books as they are of Furniture; to dress and set off their Rooms more than to a­dorn and enrich their Minds.

LXXIX.

'Tis the Infatuation of Misers to take Gold and Silver for things really Good, whereas they are only some of the means by which good things are procur'd.

LXXX.

Some People are so fond of being Subtle and Abstruse upon all Occasions, that they really overshoot the Mark. These refined Persons are as far from Truth, as the Vulgar, whose gross Ig­norance makes them fall short of it.

LXXXI.

Truth is Plain and Natural, the great Secret is only how to find it.

LXXXII.

The great mistake of most Noble­men, is, that they look upon their No­bility, as a Character given them by Na­ture.

LXXXIII.

True Quality and that which comes by Nature is only the Noble Advantages and Endowments of the Body and the Mind.

LXXXIV.

The more Ancient that Nobility is, which we Derive from our Ancestors, the [Page 194] less Valuable it is, the more Suspicious and Uncertain. The Son of a Marshal of France, who by his own Worth hath raised himself to this Office, should in all reason be more Noble, than the Posterity that descend from Him. This Spring of Honour is yet fresh in the Son's Veins, and kept up by the Example of the Fa­ther; but the further it runs from the Fountain Head, the Weaker, and the Dryer it grows.

LXXXV.

We are sursprised every day to see some Men that are come from the very Dregs of the People, raise themselves to great Fortunes and Honours; and we common­ly mention this with Scorn and Reproach; as if all the Great Families in the World had not as Mean a beginning, if we would but take pains to Trace them back to their first Originals.

LXXXVI.

The greatest part of those Complaints we make against our Neighbours are [Page 195] owing to the want of Reflections upon our selves.

LXXXVII.

The Love of our selves inclines us to look upon all the Pleasures, and Happi­nesses of Life, as things that we have a Right to call Ours; and upon all the Evils and Calamities, as things Foreign and Unnatural, and such as are Wrongs and Hardships upon us. This gives the occasion to all the Complaints we hear against Humane Life.

LXXXVIII.

Most Heroes are like some kind of Pictures, which if you would admire you must look upon them at a distance.

LXXXIX.

True and essential merit, is that of the good Accomplishments of the Mind; but the Art of making these Valuable, and Exerting those good Faculties is a second Merit: and much more necessary than the first, in all business of the World, both in [Page 196] Order to the raising our Reputation, and our Fortunes.

XC.

Many things are Valued, merely be­cause they are uncommon, or hard to be come by, though in Truth and in their own Nature, they are neither amiable, nor usefull.

XCI.

Every one Erects a Court of Judica­ture for himself. There he sits Supreme Judge over his Neighbour, and proceeds upon him in as Arbitrary and Authorita­tive a manner, as if he had some particular Prerogative over him. But methinks, we should be more modest and sparing in passing Sentence thus upon others; if we did but consider that they too will take the same Freedoms, and use us with the same Severity.

FINIS.

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