Conversations upon several subjects in two tomes / written in French by Mademoiselle de Scudery ; and done into English, by Mr. Ferrand Spence.

OF THE KNOWLEDGE OF OTHERS, AND OF OUR SELVES.

NEver was so charming a Company seen in a more delicious place; and though there were several persons who had little acquain∣tance, and some that had none at all; that Spirit of the World which so well knows how to introduce a certain familiar civility, which at first sight renders Society commo∣dious and agreeable, united all that fair Troop; there being besides several sorts of things, which further this liberty, that ren∣ders,

Conversation agreeable. And indeed, when People have travelled two days toge∣ther, they are more free than if they had daily met for three Moneths together else∣where; and those who have been partakers in a great Feast, likewise converse with more pleasure than if they had only seen one ano∣ther in a Visit. Insomuch that all the Per∣sons who compos'd this ingenious Company, coming from seeing together the famous Ne∣maean Games, had already acquired that liber∣ty which renders Society more sweet, by ba∣nishing all serious Ceremony, which is ever attended with uneasiness. I will not enlarge in the description of the House, where this company was, nor in saying that it had all that renders a House beautiful, and commo∣dious: marvellous Avenues; a singular and magnificent Outward Court: Motes full of running Water admirably fine; Apartments not only great and well contrived, but where∣in every one might find, what his own house could furnish were he never so rich: And truly, that place abounded in all that is de∣lightful in the Country, Fountains, Ca∣nals, Prospects, Rivers, Meadows, Woods, regular Walkes, Wildernesses; and all, in short, that Art can add to Nature without spoiling it. But what is principally in that place, and is not to be met with elsewhere;

is, that the admirable person who imbellished it, has made use of all things for the rendring it the more pleasant: and that in all the parts of that magnificent Park, where Nature has not ranged the Treesnear enough one another, or else in places where they have had some irregularities, she has made 'em enchanted places for People to repose in; some are like a kind of little Amphitheaters; others are made into Halls and Closets; either Square, Oval or Triangular. On one side you see Grass-Plotts all beset with Flowers; on another thick shades which inspire pensive∣ness without inspiring Melancholly; and in short, you find in that charming abode, the beauty of Forests, of Allies, of Arbours, of Mea∣dows, of Gardens, and of diversity in all, which makes the eyes are never wearyed, but always diverted. But that you may be the more secure from the accidents of the Weather, there are little Lodges at the end of the Park, whither you may go when you please. It was in one of those little round Cabinets, open however on three sides, set round with Seats, adorned with Pictures and Books, and garnished with all that is necessary for writing, when one has a desire so to do, that Telesila, Clo∣relisa, Cephisa, Philinta, Aratus, Aristippus, Lysiades, the wise Timocrates and my self went to repose our selves. At first the Con∣versation

was upon the beauty of the place then we fell to talk of the Nemaean Games which we came from seeing, of the joy of the Conquerors, and the concern of the Vanquished; and some maintain'd that those sort of Victories might be sometimes attend∣ed or followed with vexations. They would have talked of the dexterity of Aratus in bearing away all the Prizes, both in the Olym∣pick and Nemaean Games. But his modesty did oppose it; and he said very gallantly, looking upon the Ladies in general, not dar∣ing out of respect, to fix his eyes upon Te∣lesila in particular, for fear of displeasing her, that it would be very unhandsome to spend time in speaking of the Crown he had gain'd before Beauties, who knew how to vanquish those that had conquer'd, and whose Victo∣ries, by consequence, were greater and more noble. I assure you, reply'dLystiades, that those Beauties you speak of, do as well van∣quish the vanquished as the Vanquishers. I am willing to believe it, reply'd Cloreliza laugh∣ing. But you must notwithstanding grant, that it is more glorious to conquer those who were never conquered, than them who are used to be so. No, no, resum'd Aratus mo∣destly, you must not do so much honour to Victory in these sort of things; such an one may be overcome, who deserv'd to conquer,

and such an one may be a Conqueror, who may find elsewhere so many things to be desi∣derated in him, that his Victory would not give him so much pleasure as might be imagined. For my part, said the lovely Cephisa, judg∣ing pretty often of things, by the event, I always rejoice at what seems to be for my ad∣vantage. For the right course of passing our days with delight, is to proceed no further than the superficies of things, by reason that as soon as you penetrate a little further, even in Pleasures, you meet with some bitterness, as in some fruits which are hardly to be tast∣ed to find'em good. What the fair Cephisa affirms, said the wise Timocrates, has more sence than it may seem to have. That I grant, said Telesila, yet with this exception, that I do not think we ought hardly ever to judge of any thing by the event. But as for that superficies of things, which Cephisa says we must content our selves with, if we would spend our days in delight. It may well be, she has reason for it. I believe, in point of love, said Aratus, this to be very convenient; for a little love diverts extreamly, and a great Passi∣on incommodes. I did not well explain my self, •…•…eply'd Cephisa; for I do not mean we ought only to have the superficies of things, I say that in others we ought to look no fur∣ther than that, if we would not bring upon

our selves a thousand vexations. Thus if we are fond of seeing Lovers, we must believe that all we see in them is Love. If we would have friends, we must content our selves with the testimonies of friendship which they give us, without going to examine if they are sincere. For if once you get a fancy of knowing them well, those Lovers and those Friends will very often disappear, and you will only find indiscreet or unconstant Lovers, and faint, ungrateful or perfidious Friends. In a word, we our selves must ne∣ver destroy our Pleasure; and we must peace∣ably enjoy what we find sweet and innocent in life. But if that be so, said Telesila, we shall be eternally exposed to be deceived, or else we shall have no friendship without it be a superficial amity, as is that which has pro∣duced it. For how is it possible to love that which we do not know. Ah! my dear Telesila, replied Cephisa, do not tell me we can't love what we do not know. For I'll prove that all the World love themselves, yet none know themselves. All the Company laugh'd at what Cephisa said. Certain it is, said then the wise Timocrates, that it is more difficult to know our selves well, than to know others, tho it be also full as necessary. I grant, said Lysiades, that it is very necessa∣ry to know our selves well. But I do not

imagine it to be so difficult as to know o∣thers. For I do not hide my self from my self, as others use the disguise. We must di∣vine to know the hearts of others, and need only observe our own to discover its most secret motions. Ah! Lysiades, rejoyn'd Te∣lesila, the difficulty of what the wise Timocra∣tes says, consists in having the will to know our selves, and in doing what is requisite that we may not be deceived in that design, and to get rid of I know not what secret Charm which inclines us to explain favour∣ably all that we do, even to the being prone to give good motives to ingratitude. For in short, all People have a great Magazine of excuses for their own faults and imperfecti∣ons. And commonly the wisest too, take greatest pains to seek for what may palliate. For most part of the World never call them∣selves to any account; they do what is pleas∣ing, or what is useful, without mak∣ing any other reflection. The Ladies care∣fully consult their Glass for the making themselves fine. They would hide even the least Freckle that is seen in their Complexi∣on. An hair out of order, offends 'em, and puts them out of humour; and a thousand secret envies which their hearts are full of, which make them speak ill of all other Beau∣ties, and render 'em sometimes unjust even

to their best friends, do not offend 'em in the least. The truth is, said Timocrates, the greatest part of the World make no reflection, upon themselves. Yet People boldly affirm reply'd Cephisa, they will love nothing with∣out knowing what they love. They blame those who do it, and yet as I have already said, they love themselves more than all the rest of the World; and tho they do not know themselves, they esteem and commend them∣selves without knowing why; and they seek to deceive others, and to deceive 'em∣selves likewise. It seems without doubt, very strange, said the wise Timocrates, that the most part of Men and Ladies, particularly those, who live in the tumult of the World, spend all their lives without admiring the Sun, Moon or Stars, tho there is nothing so fine in all nature. Nor do they treat better all the other Wonders of the Universe; and look upon all these things as made for their use and pleasure without any other reflecti∣on. They likewise say, when you speak to them thereof, that the reason which hinders them from admiring so many marvellous things, is that they still see, and have daily seen them from the moment they were born. But this reason ceases in their own regard. For they have seen themselves from the time they were able to see; and see 'emselves still every

day; yet they admire themselves without ceasing. 'Tis without question, for that they do not know themselves, said Aratus. True admiration, answered Timocrates, does not proceed from what we do not com∣prehend. Those sort of things cause astonish∣ment and not admiration. Nay, for to ad∣mire with reason, it is requisite to know a great part of the good Qualities of the things we admire. But there must however still re∣main somewhat to discover, that may be conceived as a thing very extraordinary; and this is properly what causes that excessive esteem which turns into admiration. I am very glad, said the charming Clorelisa, I have learnt how I must admire with reason. For I perceive I have hitherto been something prodigal of my admiration. For my part, said Telesila, it would please me more, if Ti∣mocrates would teach me how to know my self; for if it is that self-love which blinds and hinders us from knowing our selves well; from whence comes it, that the kindness we have for our friends, makes us sometimes see more clearly their imperfections, tho we ex∣cuse them? Insomuch that loving our selves, yet more than we love them, we ought to see our selves more clearly, if it be true that ami∣ty gives an insight, as I fancy it does. What you say, reply'd Timocrates, is true in some

persons. Friendship either opens Peoples eyes, or shuts them; and generally speaking, it extenuates the imperfections of those we love. But what makes us know others better than we do our selves, is, that the familiarity we have with our own inclinations, does dis∣guise them to us. Nothing is new to us in our own persons, and all is new to us in others. And as Odours are better smelt by those, who are not used to them, than by those who have 'em perpetually about them: so likewise do we perceive in our friends a hundred little things which wound us; and we are not at all offended at what we carry in our own hearts. There passes, as I may say, a kind of Habit between our reason and our imperfections, which makes them subsist together without being at any dissention. But 'tis not so with the defects our reason discovers, it examines 'em, condemns 'em, pursues 'em, and leaves a thousand disorders in its own Empire for it to repare. What Timocrates asserts, is very agreeably said, in∣terrupted Aratus. I will only add, that it is strange to see, how People disquiet them∣selves in things where they have no interest, wherewith they have no right to find fault, and which even cannot be corrected, and how they abandon their own Interest and Glory. But in short, said Clorelisa, What

is requisite to be done for the knowing our selves well? 'Tis necessary, said Timocrates, to begin with the Will to know our selves without flattering our selves; and to that purpose, we are principally to examine our selves as to four things: Whether we are just; Whether we are sincere; Whether we are capable of a true friendship; and whether we have Courage. These four things are of so great a consequence, that almost all the actions of life turn upon those Hinges. I do not bring into the account, that profound Ve∣neration we owe to the Gods. For this is pre∣supposed amongst People who have Reason. But for Justice, Sincerity, Friendship and Courage: I maintain that these four Quali∣ties are the foundation of the Morals of ho∣nest People, and the source of all illustrious actions. We cannot have true Vertue with∣out being just. We are almost capable of all manner of evil as soon as we want sinceri∣ty. We are good for nothing if we are un∣capable of friendship: and without Courage all Vertues are dead, and friendship is weak and wavering, and by consequence useless and imperfect. All this is very fine, said Cephisa, but what is requisite to be done for the know∣ing, if we have those four Qualities? For my part, interrupted Aristippus, laughing, I have a desire to go walk with Cleodea; for I

am as much afraid of learning to know my self well, as the rest of the company seem desirous of that knowledge. For first of all, as for Justice, I declare that I have none; and that tho I know very well, I have not so much merit as some others, I would not suffer patiently, that they should be preferred before me. Sometimes there are certain things, said Clorelisa, which we must endure against our Wills, tho we are not very glad of 'em; and I believe, it is ever some kind of Justice to know, that we are not just. For my part, said Cephisa, I think my self pretty just. I likewise think my self sincere; and am perswaded, that I have enough of that Courage, which makes Generosity in Wo∣men and Valour in Men. But as for Friend∣ship, I know not if I have so much of it as you say is requisite; for I confess in good ear∣nest, I have many friends I do not love. They all laugh'd at what the fair Cephisa said, and at first understood it as a Railery. I af∣firm, said Aristippus, that I have had former∣ly several Mistresses I never lov'd; but I am much chang'd since that time. All the world knows what you say to be true, resum'd I. But as for what Cephisa started, 'tis not easie to comprehend, that a Person can have many Friends he does not love; and I do not think she spoke seriously when she urged that

I assure you, resumed she, that I said what I think, and what I am sensible of; and if all the Company would examine themselves well, they will find that each has a Friend of that stamp. For in fine, when we are ex∣posed to the World, and know the way of living in't, we have a certain Universal Ci∣vility, which all those we converse with, make what use of they think convenient, and which each interprets as he pleases: So that there are many People who receive it as a beginning of friendship. This being so, is it not true, that there would be a brutality in undeceiving them? We continue to see 'em, we receive offices from them, and render 'em the like; we find 'em able in certain things, endued with probity and se∣cresie; we trust them with business; we esteem 'em sufficiently in several things; and it may also happen, they love us. But after all, not finding in 'em, I know not what Charm, which renders the heart sensible, which engages it, and makes it love; nor merit sufficient for the forcing of it to give it self in good earnest; we in some sort esteem those People, we converse with 'em, serve them; yet we do not love 'em. When we lose 'em we regret 'em, as things useful, or convenient, but not as real friends: We call our reason to afflict us;

whereas in true afflictions we have need of it to comfort us. You speak your thoughts so agreeably, said Telesila, that it almost per∣swades me you are in the right: But I be∣lieve however, you are out in one thing; which is, you call People Friends, who ought not to be torm'd so. Yet I allow the word Knowledge is too unbounded, and too ge∣neral, to sit that sort of People you speak of; and a word should he invented to signifie that. But after all, 'tis not over necessary to take that pains. For I am perswaded, those friends we converse with, whom we in some measure esteem, and whom we serve without loving, are People of a very ordinary merit. And indeed friendship not being fantastical and capricious as love is, it would be next to an impossibility to converse; to esteem, and be served by a friend, who is perfectly an ho∣nest Man, without loving him reciprocally; and if it were so, 'twould be ingratitude. But Cephisa answered, are People masters of their own Sentiments? do they love whom they please? and provided they render one good turn for another, are they ungrateful? They are not voluntarily so, said Aratus, but yet they are so: and there must certainly be a great stock of ingratitude in a heart, that resists a great Merit and a great Amity. For my part, said Cloreliza, I know a Gentleman

who has a thousand Friends, of all conditi∣ons, and for whom, to speak the truth, no body has a tender love. They can easily be without his Company, unless they have busi∣ness with him. He would not be much la∣mented if he should die. He seems to hold some place where soever he is; and yet finds no room in any bodys heart. I assure you, resurn'd Cephisa, still many other Characters of friends remain, besides those we have spoke of; for there are those whom People make no scruple to ridicule at the same time, they tell and write to 'em obliging things. There are some from whom we are willing to re∣ceive good offices, and yet have no mind to return 'em the like; others whom we con∣verse withal, tho they tire us. Others whom we find diverting, and yet we do not esteem 'em; and others to whom we impart forg∣ed secrets, that we may draw from them such as are true. In a word, if we make a strict: search, I am certain we shall find a great Troop of friends, amidst whom it would be difficult to make a good choice. All the company confessed that the Novelty of the expression which Cephisa had made use of, was more proper than they at first imagin'd, when she said, that she had many friends she did not love. But after all, said Telesila, let us return to the art of knowing

ones self well, and desire Timocrates to con∣tinue the instructing us in it something more at large. Methinks Madam, said Ara∣tus, very galantly, 'tis mighty dangerous for all your friends, that you should be well acquainted with your self. For if Timocra∣tes can bring it to pass, that you should know exactly what you are, you will have so great a contempt for all the rest of the World, you will not be able to endure it. I should be very cautious, rejoyn'd Timocrates of teaching her so necessary an Art, if I thought she could make an ill use of it. For my meaning is, that a ra∣tional person by learning to know his own imperfections, ought to learn at the same time to support those of others. As for the rest, this Art varys according to persons. Such a Man may know himself better by the report of others, than by himself. But it is suffi∣cient, as I have said, to have the will of knowing without flattering our selves; and to set upon observing our selves mainly in things which our inclinations are most prone to, and calling our selves to an account of what we have done, that we may discover precisely the true motives thereto. For there are such sudden Sentiments in our mind, that tho they succeed one another, yet we know only the last that sets us on acting. However to judge well of an action, 'tis ne∣cessary

to know 'em all. This little study has its delights, when we are accustom'd to it. Sometimes you'll find, that we hate some People, because we love others, and that all the Passions disguise themselves. We must therefore seek out the source of them, if we have a mind to know 'em thoroughly. Peo∣ple may even follow Vertue by motives un∣worthy of it. Ill Causes may in some En∣counters have good effects; but the good can very rarely have such as are bad. Wherefore we must always, if possible, have good in∣tentions in all things. Love, which seems to be of all Passions the most easie to discover, has very obscure causes as well as the rest. Men sometimes accuse fair cyes, whose weak∣ness is often in the heart they have wounded. There are Loves of temperament, inclinati∣on, habit, acknowledgment, cap•…•…ice, inte∣rest, vanity, and of a hundred other kinds. So that when we would subdue this Passion, necessary it is to know its true source. But amongst all the Passions, that which is least known by those it does possess, is Avarice. None of a covetuous humour think they are so. They only fancy themselves good Husbands, prudent and able. They have sometimes the confidence to tell themselves, to conceal the sordidness of their Sentiments, that they are only the Depositaries of the benefits which

God has bestowed upon them. They call those Prodigal, who are Liberal. They think all is lost that is given; aud know no other felicity than that of having useless Treasures. The truth is, said Aratus, I know covetous People who fancy they merit infinite praises for those very things for which they are con∣demned by all the World. You do well, said Clorelisa agreeably, to say, that you know Covetous People: For you your self are not acquainted with Avarice. You, I say, who have given away considerable Treasures which the King of Egypt bestowed upon you. I assure you, replied Aratus, I am less to be commended than you imagine; and I can say what Cyrus once answered to one of his Ministers, who represented to him, that he gave all he had to his Courtiers. I do not give it them, said he, I only leave it'em to keep. If I should have occasion for it at any time, they will restore it me with Usu∣ry; and I shall gain their hearts at a cheap rate. All the World knows what we are to believe in this point, said Telesila; but I am very desirous Timocrates would tell us how we may know Envy; for I believe it very difficult to discover. You have reason to say so, Ma∣dam, replied he, and very often an envious person thinks he loves Vertue and hates Vice; when he speaks ill of those, whom he bears

an envy to, and in whom he seeks for im∣perfections, which he would be very sorry not to find. The Source of Envy, pursured Ti∣mocrates, is properly an ill grounded Pride; which is the reason, that those persons who are capable of it, instead of seeking to become more perfect, seek to Tarnish the good Qua∣lities of those they esteem more than them∣selves, tho they do not know it: and this secret Malignity dissuses it self from their Heart, not only into their imagination but into their Senses. They neither see nor un∣derstand things any more as they are; and their own Reason being seduced by the false representations of the Senses, it makes them afterwards commit a thousand injustices. My Opinion is, said Cephisa; that we may see things otherwise than they really are. Not that, added she, I am very envious; on the con∣trary, I love very much to praise, but I am very easie to be offended. When I am in an∣ger I know no more what I see; and if Te∣lesila had displeas'd me, all perfect as she is, I should have found her very different from what you see her. I should find her pale, instead of finding her fair; I should think her too witty; I should call her Modesty cold∣ness and indifference; in short, I should fi∣gure to my self a Telesila that would not be at all like her. For my part, said Ara∣tus,

I am not of your disposition. For if I imagin'd, I had any reason to complain of the beautiful Telesila, I should think she had some concealed reason to use me ill. I should examine my own imperfections, and should rather accuse my self than accuse her. I am not at all of that humour, said Aristippus, I always accuse my self the last, and I rather blame Fortune than my self. In love, replied Lysiades, I rather tax my Rival than my Mistress. But in friendship, I take time to deliberate before I accuse my Friends: but when I am once perswaded, they have been really faulty, I hate 'em as much as I lov'd them before, and can never be prevailed with to grant 'em my pardon. This Sentiment, said Telesila, does not in the least become you, Lysiades; and in my Opinion, People may cease loving, nay they may hate, but we are never to be irreconcileable in friend∣ship; and it is only in love that an eternal con∣tempt is just, when the Party has broke off with a just cause. I say an eternal contempt, pursued she, and not an eternal hatred. For it would be to do too much honour to a Faithless Lover, for a Mistress to hate him all her life. In case the Conversation conti∣nues but a little longer, said Cephisa, we shall not only know our selves, but we shall know one another better than we did. For in∣sensibly,

and without thinking of it, we speak all we think. Yet I fancy, reply'd Aratus, there are more persons than one in the com∣pany, who say not all they think. For my part, said Aristippus, I am perswaded if all Men took as much pains to know themselves as Timocrates would have them; and after∣wards, for the better regulating their con∣duct, they would endeavour to know others too, all Sciences would be banished; for their Lives would not be long enough. And, as an excellent Man of my acquaintance has said very well,

He that would learn t'enjoy a wealty Store, Of Golden Years, must live Two full Lives o're.

This is not so difficult, as you may ima∣gine, said Timocrates, and the Sciences are not obstacles to this knowledge. But if any of 'em were necessarily to be banished for the retaining of this, I should rather banish Phy∣sick, though so necessary; for it only teach∣es to cure the Maladys of the Body, whereas the knowledge of ones self tends to the curing the Diseases of the Soul. Astrology gives us a Thousand ingenious Opinions, for Truths and Predictions, uncertain and useless, which tend only to the raising dis∣quiet. For my part, said Aristippus, let

who will or can know himself, I will have none of that knowledge. I am not like you, said Telesila; for there is nothing I so much desire, as to know exactly if I am not de∣ceived in the Opinion I have of my self: and I have a great mind to confide my self so far in the wise Timocrates, as to tell him all my thoughts in that case; that he may undeceive me if I am in an errour. For as he has known me from my Infancy, he will quickly see if I am in an errour. What you say, has more vanity than you imagine, said Cephisa smiling. But since you are as desi∣rous to know your self, as I am to know others; let us not so suddenly abandon this subject. Let's see, if this knowledge is possible; and then we will try, if it be as useful as the wise Timocrates affirms. Do not doubt it, replied he, and to say yet more, I boldly assert, that the great succession of Victories which our Prince has gained, is not the effect of a certain happiness, which has made it often said, even to the becoming a Proverb, that Success in War is un∣constant; There is nothing therein, but Con∣duct and good Concert, with an exquisite judgment, and a perfect knowledge of our advantages, and of those of our Enemies, of the Troops and Generals of both Parties, of Places,Seasons, and of that number of cir∣cumstances

weighed and balanced together; Wherein the greatest ability of great Cap∣tains and great Kings does consist. I appre∣hend as well as you, said Cephisa, that it is really that profound knowledge both of others and ones self, which makes up the chief act∣ive Ingredient in most part of great things. But the one seems to me much more difficult than the other. For we know, and are very sensible, how far we our selves are able to pro∣ceed; but are usually ignorant how far others are able to go. I am not of your Opinion, answered Telesila, and yet fancy I am in the right. If you please, continued she, we will exa∣mine whether you or I be of reason's side. And to pry further into this business, we will exa∣mine whether it be more useful to know our selves than to know others. I am content, replied Cephisa. But for the keeping some Order, said Timocrates with a smile, 'tis ne∣cessary that Telesila and Cephisa be the only persons who maintain this cause; and that the Company should be the spectators of this Dispute, as they have been of the Combats of the Nemaean Games. Since Cephisa finds, I have not sufficiently explain'd what I have said, resum'd Timocrates, it is requisite to examine which is the most difficult. Telesila out of Modesty would not engage her self in this Dispute. But the Company gave sen∣tence

she should; and Cephisa, according to her facetious humour, made no difficulty at all. But then, for the prescribing some Or∣der, as I have said, resum'd Timocrates, we must first examine which is the most difficult, to know our selves, or to know others, and then we will see afterwards which is the most useful. As for my part, said Cephisa, with∣out giving us leisure to speak: I see so much difficulty in knowing others; and methinks, I know my self so well, that I do not ponder one moment to decide this Question. There are a thousand difficulties, pursued she, to penetrate into the hearts of others. After ten Years Acquaintance and Friendship, we dis∣cover imperfections that we had not yet per∣ceiv'd. What you say, does often happen, answered Timocrates: But often likewise 'tis not, but that we knew those friends, when we believed we knew 'em: the reason is, they changed thro some unusual cause, and hav∣ing ceased observing 'em with the same care that was had in the beginning, because we be∣lieved they would be still the same, we did not take notice of an imperceptible change, which augmenting every day, does at length make it self remarkable. Wherefore I main∣tain, that commonly those defects, which we perceive, are now, and not newly discover∣ed: and I am perswaded, that when we ap∣ply

our selves strongly to know any one, we succeed in our design. And I, said Cephisa, maintain, that we hardly ever perfectly know any body. The knowledge of People with whom we oftnest converse, is but an act of conjecture, wherein we are easily mista∣ken. Words, actions, the greatest services, all may be deceitful. A thousand reasons make some frequently mask themselves to their best friends. Vertuous they seem, and are not; they speak of sincerity without having any. They are sometimes franc and open, but not so always. They think they are be∣loved, and love without reserve; and in the sequel, Fortune overturns all this, without either the one or the others knowing from whence this subversion proceeds. They no longer know those People, they fancied they knew so well, and all is to begin again. All you say is true, replied Telesila: Besides what makes the impossibility of knowing others perfectly, is that we do not look into our selves sufficiently, and we all most ever see our selves disguised. See a Courtier before his Master, a Lover before his Mistress, a friend with his friend; is he the same Man that he is really in himself? Is it possible to discern what he is, from what he appears? We can∣not know the heart but by words and acti∣ons. Yet as we know but imperfectly the

true motives of 'em, we may say, 'tis possi∣ble for us to know what those People do we are acquainted with, and to make the History of their Lives; but never truly to know the History of their Hearts. One and the same action may be reputed good or bad, accord∣ing as we consider it. A friend exactly sin∣cere in giving Counsels, sometimes appears a less agreeable friend than a dexterous flatte∣rer. 'Tis almost requisite to become the continual spy of ones best friends to know 'em well. 'Tis requisite to know perfectly that great Art of Conjecturing, whereof we have already spoken: and when you shall have known it, and imagine, that you know those so well, whom you shall have so carefully ob∣served; who has told you, as has been just∣ly remarked, that you will know 'em al∣ways? Absence, Good Fortune, the Court, Interest, Love, Ambition, all do or may change them. And the Judgment finding still a new accusation, grows weary, desponds, and ceases to pursue knowing what it thought it knew at once for ever. After this do not you conceive there is a great deal of boldness in those, who boast they know perfectly the People they converse withal; who fancy, they can penetrate the Vails of Dissimulation, discern an Hypocrite from a truly honest Man; a dexterous Cheat from a prudent Man; a

wise from a cunning Woman? Ah! As for cunning, resum'd Cephisa, methinks, 'tis ea∣sie to be discerned. But after all, I agree, it is not easie to know others, either in Love, Friendship or Probity, and in general, the heart of Man is imp•…•…netrable. You must at the same time allow, rejoyn'd Telesila, 'tis almost more difficult to know ones self well. But is it possible, said Cephisa, you can assert so unlikely a thing? Do not I see into my own heart? Not at all, replied she, 'tis it se∣duces you, and makes you often not know your self. First of all, added Telesila, you must necessarily grant, that much more care is taken to know others than our selves. All the World out of Interest, Curiosity, or a good Opinion of their own Wit, would dive into the hearts of others without making a∣ny reflection upon their own. They think they know themselves, and so are at rest. They esteem and sometimes admire 'em∣selves with some injustice; and as it were sleeping upon that esteem, they are always hot in the pursuit of the knowledge of others, and profoundly ignorant as to what they are themselves. What you say is very true, said Timocrates, and we may likewise add, that this false knowledge we have of our selves, makes us often judge of 'em by our our own Sentiments. For unquestionably,

we are not to make our selves the Stand∣ard whereby we may know others well. Be it as it will, said Cephisa, I know per∣fectly I am no Coquette, nor am I given to de∣tracting. I agree to what you say, resum'd Telesila, we may know the ill Qualities we have not, because they are strangers to us. But we are often ignorant of those, we have, be∣cause they are natural to us. For in short, there is a certain self-love concealed in our hearts, which makes continual illusions in our minds, without our perceiving 'em, tho o∣thers deceive us, when we would know 'em, but we deceive our selves sometimes without thinking' of it; and sometimes out of a pre∣meditated design. We as it were fly our selves, when we would not find we are in the wrong. We diminish our imperfections, mag∣nifie our good Qualities, flatter and disguise our selves. In a word, we love our selves almost more than we love others, and we represent our selves so as is most pleasing, and not as we really are. And tho we are even convinced of our own defects, and can no longer doubt of'em, yetwe deny them still; we seek and torment our selves, till we have found out some expedient for the attributing of'em at least to a good cause. The falsest praises have the power of giving a real pleasure; we know they are groundless,

yet byhearing 'em often, we come to be in∣sensibly perswaded they are true. But is it possible, interrupted Cephisa, you do not think you know your self? I think, reply'd Telesi∣la, sincerely, that I know my self better than the most part of the World know 'emselves. But in general, I believe, we always deceive our selves in some things, when we would judge of our selves. Thus I do not answer but I have more imperfections than I think I have. There is but one thing, wherein I am sure I do not deceive my self; which is, that my friendship is more tender, more dis∣interested, more faithful, and more incapable of Change than any others.I believe what you say, reply'd Cephisa, but I believe also, I know most accurately what I am. There is however some appearance, interrupted Timocrates, looking upon Cephisa, that you do not know all your merit. For you would be as much Vain, as you are Modest. Remember Timocrates, reply'd she smiling, you forrnerly imposed upon us this Law, That we should always speak sincerely. Thus let not me be the subject of our discourse, for fear sincerity should not prove to my ad∣vantage; and let us only agree of the im∣possibility of knowing others perfectly, and of knowing 'em always. For in my Opini∣on, I have not strongly enough evinc'd, how

fond it is to think, we can entirely know those with whom we live. One Wit alon•…•… cannot equally well know sundry Wits at 〈◊〉〈◊〉 time. So that we must be contented with an imperfect knowledge, we may have of those with whom we converse; which some∣times is of some service in the Commerce o•…•… the World; and which is likewise injurious when we rely upon it too much. There∣fore, I find, we ought never in importan•…•… occasions, blindly to lean upon our imagin•…•… knowledge; and I am perswaded thos•…•… who have said, for the first time that w•…•… must love so, as that we may one day hate and hate as that we may love, were of my Opinion. But if you ever doubt of all, said Ti∣mocrates to Cephisa, you could have no friend∣ship with any one. Ah! Timocrates, reply'd she, we are not so wise in all things tha•…•… are agreeable or necessary. 'Tis well know•…•… thro all the World, that the Sea is incon∣stant and dangerous, and that Shipwrack are frequent there. Yet the desire of grow∣ing rich or travelling makes People embark and go seek for Gold in the Indies. And as it is much more necessary, and also more agreeable, to live with People of the World, with the same confidence as if we knew 'em well; we embark with them in∣to all manner of Affairs, at the hazard of be∣ing

deceived in some one. But as for the knowing of my self, I do not see I can be •…•…herein deceived. I know what I think, what love, what I hate, what I have a mind to, •…•…nd what not. True, reply'd Telesila, you •…•…hink you know 'em. But you do not think •…•…ou have against you your own Sences, your •…•…leasures, your Inclinations, your own Con∣•…•…itution, and that Self-love which cannot be •…•…oo much talk'd of, which disguises it self so well, that tho it possesses our whole heart, •…•…nd mind, insinuates it self into all our Sentiments, yet we do not perceive it, we know it not, nor are willing to know it. And indeed, of a Million of Persons, who •…•…eek to know others out of reasons of Inte∣•…•…est or Curiosity; there are not perhaps a •…•…lundred who seek to know 'emselves well •…•…ut of an interest of Vertue. And you your •…•…elf, lovely Cephisa, if you are sincere, will •…•…onfess, you have not employed much time •…•…n knowing your self well. That I grant, reply'd she, But the reason is, I see my self with the same easiness as I see the Sun, when look upon it. But I beseech you, Cephi∣•…•…a, reply'd Telesila, take notice, that in the •…•…rst moment we see the Sun (to make use of •…•…he comparison) we see it bright and dazzling. But we must look upon it a long time with •…•…pplication, before we can observe the spots

that People discover in it. Thus when we•…•… examine our selves for an instant, we know our selves but imperfectly. 'Tis necessary to have seen ones self on very difficult occasi∣ons to judge well of ones self. When For∣tune smiles upon us, we ought to forecast what we would do when it frowns. We mustt found our own hearts for the hindring of hate to prepossess us; for the opposing of anger, and a disguised Envy, which seems in some persons only a love of perfect Ver∣tue, which is hardly any where to be found and makes us murmur against others, when we think they have more happiness than they deserve. It is necessary to observe whe∣ther we love out of choice or out of blind∣ness. 'Tis necessary to distrust ones own heart to know it well; and to distrust i•…•… often to make an exact review of it. For i•…•… may change as well as that of others, and when any one becomes more happy than h•…•… was, he must examine if he be the same to his friends. On the contrary, if he become miserable, I would have him observe, if he be not prepossest against his Enemies, if he still see what they have good in 'em thro all the reasons he has to hate them. He must like∣wise take notice, if his firmness in misor∣tunes is calm and sedate, and not rather a disguised Pride than a true Constancy. In

a word, he must examine himself in all parti∣culars; not excuse himself upon other Peoples imperfections. Flatter himself in nothing; not be dazzled at his own Vertue, which perhaps may hide from you some defects, which you will discover in time, when occasions of shew∣ing 'em shall come. I confess to you in good earnest, said Cephisa, I do nothing of all this you would have done, and by consequence, reply'd Telesila, you cannot know your self. And to prove it to you, pursued she, from whence comes it that you told me formerly a thousand fine things of a friend of yours, whom I never hear you mention now? she is as beautiful as ever; has as much Wit; all the World courts her company as well now as they did then, and yet you do not see her with the same Eyes; you find her chang'd in all things; and all this because you have had a little dispute together, which prejudices you against her. Nevertheless I own, it is more easie to prove, that we do not know others well, than to demonstrate clearly that we know our selves well. And this proceeds from the difficulty which our own Passions bring to this knowledge. Is there one Usurer in the World who confesses he is covetous? He calls it Oeconomy, good Husbandry, a desire of providing well for his Children. The Prodigal, do not they con∣ceal

their Vice under a very Royal Vertue? Women also that are Coquettes, boast of their having no Intrigue, and think themselves very vertuous. Those who have but one gallantry, boast likewise of their good conduct. The indifferent commend 'emselves for loving nothing, as if honest friendship were a Crime. In a word, those who think they know themselves best, know 'emselves but very imperfectly. I am of your Opinion in both points, resum'd Timocrates, that perfect knowledge is very difficult to acquire both of others and our selves. But convenient perhaps it would be, as we have already said, to consider which of those two knowledges is the most advantageous. I do not see, said Cephisa, there is any occasion to doubt of 'em. For of what Quality soc∣ver a person be, the knowledge of others is absolutely necessary in the Affairs of the World; and whether in Love, Ambition, Friendship, Business, and for the upshot in all manner of things, if we do not in some mea∣sure know those with whom we are to deal, we can never be successful. A Courtier, who to the bottom has searched the mind of his Master, and the minds of those about him, may almost be assured of making his Fortune. A Lover who perfectly knows his Mistress, will quickly gain her heart.

A friend who knows his friend well, will never be deceived by him. In sum, this perfect knowledge if it might be had, would be a wonderful advantage; and this does not enter into comparison of the knowledge of our selves. The other has a thousand Plea∣sures, and this has none, or very few. How do I pity you, Cephisa, said Telesila, inter∣rupting her, for being in an errour unwor∣thy of so great a Wit as you. For briefly, what knowledge soever you may have of others, it is never a certain knowledge, and besides your knowing the imperfections of your friends, does not correct 'em. I agree in general, that for the advancing ones fortune, the knowledge of others is most ne∣cessary. But to advance in Vertue, the know∣ledge of ones self is a thousand times more advantageous. Assoon as we know our own imperfections, I suppose we think of correct∣ing them, or at least of concealing 'em. From thence it likewise comes, that we act more surely, and more to the purpose on all occasions. If every person knew well what he is proper for, we should not s•…•…e so many things taken by the wrong byass, as we daily see. Every one would content himself with his own Talent, would succeed therein, and would not usurp an others Province. If those who make ill Books knew it by themselves,

they would make none at all. If Detract∣ours knew well the horrour of Revilings, and that a Calumny does blacken 'em for e∣ver; they would never more speak ill of their Neighbours. If the pleasant Satyrists by profession, knew truly, how unbecoming that Trade is to a Gentile Wit; to what danger they expose 'emselves; and how little fensible the honest People they bespatter, are of their injurious language, and how much they slight and despise 'em; they would spend their time more innocently, and not incur the hatred of all vertuous persons. In fine, if we saw our selves well, I suppose we should do, what you do, most amiable Cephisa, when passing before a Looking-Glass, you see your Hair out of order, and something is want∣ing to your Dress. You would not be will∣ing People should see you neglected; you re∣pare that little disorder; you accept of help; and you mend all you imagine does not fit well. You speak this so pleasantly, said Ce∣phisa, that I will not oppose it. But take my word, what is found out of order in a heart, is not so easie to be rectified as my Hair. When I should find any thing in mine, which I am unwilling should be there, I should be very much perplexed: and it might well happen, that the knowledge I should have thereof would afflict me, and not correct me.

I do not at all believe what you say, reply'd Telesila, for I cannot suppose, your will could be subdued by the force of an ill inclination: and I still maintain, that provided we will struggle with our inclinations, we may easi∣ly surmount 'em. If you say this in general, said Timocrates, I am not of your mind. For the will all alone cannot with success oppose a great Passion. You do not well understand what I mean, reply'd Telesila, since I only speak of the natural defects of the Mind, Heart and Soul, if those three things are to be distin∣guished. For when a great Passion is predo∣minant, 'tis not easie to vanquish it tho you know it. But if we want sincerity, if we accustom our selves to lying, if we are sub∣ject to speak ill of others, if we bear an en∣vy to the glory or good Fortune of our friends, if we are unequal, cholerick, caprici∣ous, inconstant; we may certainly change and take advantage of our own knowledge. I also boldly maintain, that those People, who are not acquainted with 'emselves, are only vertuous by peradventure; and that this knowledge is useful and necessary to all man∣ner of persons. You said this too generally, said Cephisa, and I should believe this study of ones self is only very useful and necessary to Great Ministers of States, to Princes and Kings, to whom any body dares hardly ever

speak the truth; especially in what concerns 'emselves: and I willingly agree, 'tis very fit that those Personages set so high above others should make some review of their own hearts, and endeavour to discern, if the prai∣ses that are given them, are really their due, or if they are only Homages, paid to their Quality. In short, I protest to you sincere∣ly, That if I was a Queen, I would ever be in a self distrust, until I had observed my self with care. But being only what I am, and no body having any interest to flatter me, I sufficiently learn what I am by the manner of Peoples conversing with me. You have reason, resum'd Timocrates, to say this knowledge of a mans self is yet more necessa∣ry to Ministers, to Princes and Kings. For they are not only not told the truth, but are fed with lyes, and flattery sometimes proceeds so far, that their natural imperfections are imitated, as was formerly seen in the Court of Alexander, and in several others. Sure I am, said I, that Kings are to be pitied, since they are to defend 'emselves against all those who would please them. Particular persons, pursued Timocrates, have still an advantage of knowing 'emselves well, which Kings are de∣prived of, because the liberty of Conversa∣tion introduces into the World an innocent Railery, which causes sometimes a sweet and

ingenious War between the best friends, which makes 'em perceive their defects without dis∣pleasing 'em, and does both Amend and Di∣vert. But as to those who command over others, they have no helps to know 'emselves. and they are alone to judge of themselves-To be short, of what Quality soever a man is, he may correct himself, when he has nar∣rowly sifted himself. I do not say 'tis im∣possible, replied Cephisa, but if you please to give me leave to tell you the truth, an imper∣fection which I can think that others know not of, does not importune me much. How∣ever I must avow, that nothing corrects me so much as when I hear the ill Qualities blamed in others, which I think my self guilty of. You see then, resum'd Telesila, that it is for your advantage to know your self. Perhaps so answered Cephisa; but con∣sidering the manner you mention'd at first, of the knowledge of ones self, I fram'd in my mind the Idea of a lazy contemplative person, continually observing his own dispo∣sitions, tiring himself very much, and giv∣ing little diversion to others. That is not the business, reply'd Timocrates. For this knowledge of ones self is acquired in the Crowd of the World, and upon the Throne it self. 'Tis a Study without anguish, which needs no watchings, performed in all places,

and without trouble, and tho a perfect know∣ledge is hardly ever gotten, either of others, or of ones self; we must not be discourag∣ed from endeavouring to acquire 'em. The Eyes are never weary of seeing; the mind ought never to be weary of knowing. You are in the right, said Telesila. But I know not if I may dare to start a thing which comes into my mind, resum'd Timocrates, and which you perhaps will think too new. Which is, that 'tis more casie to acquire certain general knowledges, than to know any one Man in particular. For example, the Court is better known in general than a Courtier; the Ge∣nius of Nations, than any one Man of each Country. People even think of Ages and Reigns with differences, that distinguish 'em easily. Yet those general notices are commonly more certain than particular know∣ledges. And indeed it is the Encomium that I gave the Prince of whom we spoke in the beginning of our converse, to have known his Enemies and his own Forces well. This knowledge, added Timocrates, is the founda∣tion of great Events. But for the being ca∣pable of it 'tis requisite, without doubt, to have a Wit of the first rate, and to penetrate the future by the knowledge of what is past and present; however this does not occasion ones being the more Melancholy. See but

our Prince in the Magnificent Feasts he makes in the reviews he sometimes has of the best and finest Troops in the World, which are those of his House, he seems to give himself up entirely to the things he does; and to employ himself only in what he sees. Yet there 'tis he frames the greatest designs of his Conquests. 'Tis there he conceals 'em from the most sharp-sighted of his Courtiers, and 'tis in short, by the knowledge he has of all things, that he has rendred himself the great∣est of all Kings. You have found the Art of not being contradicted, reply'd Telesila; for I am perswaded, that Cephisa will allow, as well as I, of all you say to the Glory of the King. That I do, resum'd she, and I al∣so think a thousand times more than Timocra∣tes says upon that point. But this consormi∣ty of Sentiments, which I bear to you, in what concerns the King, does not hinder me however, from sticking to my own, in what relates to our Contest. 'Tis credible, reply'd Telesila, laughing, you will give me the same liberty you take, and I may, without displeas∣ing you, continue in my Opinion, as well as you in yours. For my part, added Timo∣crates, who have not absolutely declared my self, I believe you will both agree, that the greatest difficulty of knowing ones self, pro∣ceeds from the same cause which makes, that

In sensible objects, we see but confusedly those which are far distant, and do not well discem those that are too near the sight. For we may in like manner say, that others are too far from us, and we see our selves too near, to know perfectly either what others, or what we our selves are. Timocrates had no sooner spoke these words, than that all the Company fell to commending both Telesila and Cephisa. As for my part, said the latter, laughing, Me∣thinks Telesila and I, by speaking almost a∣lone in the midst of so great a Company, may be compared to certain Heroes in Ro∣mances, who fight alone between two Ar∣mies: and who come from the fight without being either Conquerors, or Conquered. Now as for Timocrates, I look upon him as a Judge of the Field. If it be so, resum'd he, I give the prize to Telesila, as having well maintain'd the better side; and yet I give many praises to Cephisa, for having so ingeniously defended an ill Cause, All the Company fell again to commending those two beautiful Persons. Af∣ter which the generous mistress of that deli∣cate Wilderness, led them back into the Mag∣nificent Palace from whence they had come to take the Air.