Miscellany essays upon philosophy, history, poetry, morality, humanity, gallantry &c. / by Monsieur de St. Evremont ; done into English by Mr. Brown.

A LETTER TO Monsieur the Count de B. R.

By the same Hand.

YOU ask me what I have been do∣ing in the Country, and since the place cou'd not furnish me with agree∣able Conversations, whether I did not take great Pleasure to entertain my self in Contemplation. I will tell you then without affection, that I endeavour to divert my self as much as possible, where I am. Every Country has its Rarities, which we learn not without satisfacti∣on; and the most Savage places have their Pleasures, if we are in a capacity to use them.

It cannot otherwife happen, but that every thing must displease me, when∣ever I begin, I employ my self in Medi∣tation; for to speak soberly upon the matter, we never fail to be tiresome to our selves, in too long and too serious a commerce with our own Thoughts.

Solitude has this peculiar to its self, that it imprints upon us I don't know what sort of a Mournful Air, barely with thinking upon the wretchedness of our State. Oh strange condition of Man! If he intends to live happy, he must make but few reflections upon life; nay he must often depart as it were, from himself, and amidst the Pleasures which exteriour Objects furnish him with, steal from the knowledge of his own Miseries.

Divertisements have their name for the diversion they give us from tiresome objects, to those that are Pleasant and agree∣able. Which sufficiently shows how di∣fficult a matter it is to overcome the hard-ships of our Condition by any force of Mind; but that a man may turn them away from him by dexterity and address.

In effect, chuse the firmest Soul up∣on Earth; can she digest without regret the knowledge of what we are, and of what we shall one day be? As for my part, I believe it is almost impossible; but tho' by a long habitude and solid reasoning, we may arrive to such a pass, as to look indifferently upon all trou∣blesome objects whatever; yet they will at least give us an austere humour, far from any Sentiments of Pleasure, nay from the very Idea of joy.

'Tis the distinguishing Character of God alone, that he can view himself, and there find perfect Felicity and Repose. We can scarce cast our Eyes upon our selves, but we there discover a thousand de∣fects, which obliges us to seek elsewhere that which is wanting in us.

Glory, Reputation, and Fortune, are a mighty relief against the rigours of Nature, and the miseries of Life. Thus we had Wisdom given us for no other end, but only to regulate these Goods, and to direct our conduct; but let our stock be never so great, we shall find it stands us in small stead, when we are alarm'd with the pains and approaches of Death.

I know there are several persons who prepare themselves against it by solid judicious reflections, and by designs well concerted: But it generally so happens, that the extremity of pain dashes all these fine resolutions to pieces; that a Feavour throws them into a delirium, or that by doing every thing out of Season, they are strangely fond of Life, when they ought to take up a Resolution of quitting it

These empty Pretenders, so vain and high Flying, That Preach up a Constancy without Re∣lenting, Resemble the Fop, who as he lay dying, Begg'd his Maker to give him three Years to Repent in.

All the circumstances of Death re∣gard only those that remain behind. The Weakness, the Resolution, the Tears, the Indifference, all is equal at the last moment; and 'tis very ridiculous to imagine that this ought to be con∣sidered as a great matter by those, who are going to be nothing themselves.

There is nothing that can effectual∣ly conquer the horrour of this dissolu∣tion, but a firm perswasion of another Life; we must put on a Spirit of con∣fidence, and place our selves in such a scitu∣ation, as to hope every thing, and fear nothing.

In truth, 'tis impossible not to make some reflections upon a thing so Natu∣ral; nay, a man must be guilty of a strange effeminacy not to dare to think of it.

We may say the same thing of sad∣ness, and indeed of all sorts of grief; 'tis a Chimera for Man to wish to dis∣engage himself absolutely from them. I may add, they are sometimes lawful, and I think they may be reasonably used on certain occasions.

An indifference is perfectly scanda∣lous in some sort of Misfortunes. A tenderness is justly paid to the Calami∣ties of a faithful Friend; but then we are to observe, that as greif ought to be rare, so it ought to be soon laid a∣side.

After having observed the greatest part of People that hunt after their plea∣sures, I have found four sorts of them,

and I am apt to perswade my self, that I know all their Sentiments exactly: They are the sensual, the hasty or Choleric, the voluptuous, and the de∣licate.

The sensual apply themselves more grosly to that which is most Natural; and like other Animals, follow their own simple Appetites

That which touches the Voluptuous, makes an impression upon the Senses, which reaches as far as the Soul. I don't mean that intelligent Soul, from whence proceeds the light of Reason, but a Soul more mixt, and interessed in the Body; which the passions cause to languish, and which may be tickled with all manner of Pleasures.

The Choleric have a more lively Sense, and a more violent Soul; sen∣sible of impressions, and full of Heat in all their Movements.

The Mind has a greater share in the taste of the Delicates, than in that of others. To these do we owe our inventions and refinements in Luxury; without them Gallantry had been un∣known; Musick harsh and rude, and our Eating mean and ill ordered. To these

are we indebted for the eruditus luxus of Petronius, and all the exquisite discoveries, the politeness of our Age has made. But it must be confest, that if these Persons are ingenious in preparing Pleasures for other Men, they are fruitful in disgusts for themselves, and having too great an Idea of the perfection of things, are over difficult to be pleased.

I have made some observations too upon the objects that please us; and methinks I have remark'd very parti∣cular differences in them.

There are a slight sort of impressions, that if you'l pardon the expression, on∣ly glance upon the Soul, and employ it for the time upon agreable things, where it is fixed with complacency, without the least invention of care to disturb it. This we call agreeableness; and it is conformable enough to the humour of the most Virtuous Persons, who mingle this sort of Pleasure with their most serious Occupations.

I have observed another, which the Ancients called Mollities, a soft volup∣tuous impression, that flatters and tick∣les the Senses, and diffuses it self delici∣ously all over the Soul. From hence a∣rises

a certain Laziness that insensibly robs the Mind of its vivacity and vi∣gour; insomuch that being once Charm'd with it, 'tis a difficult matter to shake off so sweet a Lethargy.

Offensive disagreeable Subjects are felt after a manner quite opposite to this. They do violence to the Senses; the Soul is wounded by them, and this pro∣ceeds so far as to give a disturbance and inquietude to the Mind.

But the highest degree of merit in Ob∣jects, is that which is touching; which penetrates even to the bottom of the Heart, which raises the finest Images in our Minds, and moves us after the most tender manner imaginable.

It is hard to speak of it well, and there is no expression but comes infi∣nitely short of what those persons en∣joy that are affected by it. These trans∣ports and deliquiums proceed from the want of proportion between the Objects and the Soul that receives the impression of them. Whether it is, because not being able to contain our selves, we are as it were, carried out of our selves by a sort of ravishment, or that overwhelmed with excess of pleasure, we faint away under the weight of it.

I should never have done, if I were minded to pursue all the differences that are to be found in so copious a Subject. The best way is to chuse what we find most conformable to our taste, to our In∣clination, or to our Genius.

Let gay Persons search after diversi∣on and joy; let the indifferent content themselves with what is agreeable; let the Delicate refine upon the most cu∣rious things; let passionate Souls suffer themselves to be touched with tender Objects, provided that Reason banishes all disorder, and corrects the excess of them.

This is all I had to say to you, up∣on the Article of Pleasure. It now re∣mains, that I say something of a Mind which is restored to it self, and enjoys a perfect degree of tranquillity.

We are not always possessed by our Passions; and it is to be feared, that instead of tasting true liberty, a lazy, unactive Scene of Repose, may throw us into a state of wearisomness. However that time which a Man renders tedious to himself by his sullen Humour, is no less placed to his account, than the sweetest part of Life; and those Melancholy hours, we desire to pass away with so much pre∣cipitation,

do full as much contribute to fill up the measure of our days, as those that escape us with regret.

I am not of their Opinion, who spend their time in complaining of their con∣dition, instead of thinking how to relieve and sweeten it.

Vnhappy knowledge, source of all our Woes, Destructive of our Pleasure and Repose; Why, when some dire mischance has been sus∣tain'd, Should the ungrateful Image be retain'd? Must we to Grief this slavish homage pay, As sigh our best, our dearest Hours away? Or to improve the pressures of our doom, Must we bewail the past, and fear the Ills to come?

I freely leave these Gentlemen to their Murmurs, and take what care I can to extract some comfort from those very things they complain of: I endeavour to entertain my self with an agreeable re∣membrance of what is past; and furnish my self with pleasant Ideas of what is to come. If I am obliged to regret any thing, my regrets are rather sentiments of ten∣derness than of grief.

If in order to avoid any Evil, we must of necessity foresee it, my fore-sight ne∣ver goes so far as Fear. 'Tis my aim, that the knowledge of feeling nothing that troubles me, and the consideration to see my self free and Master of my self, shou'd give me the spiritual pleasure of good E∣picurus. I mean that agreeable indolence, which is not, as the vulgar imagine, a state without grief, and without pleasure; but the sentiments of a pure and delicate joy, which proceeds from a repose of Conscience, and a serenity of Mind.

After all, whatsoever sweetness we find in our selves, let us take care to keep it there as long as we can. 'Tis an easie leap from these secret joys to inward griefs; and there is no less good Husbandry re∣quired in the Enjoyment of our own pro∣per goods, than in the use of those that are external. Who does not know that the Soul is tired to be always in the same posture, and that at long run, it would lose all its vigour, if it were not awaken'd by the Passions?

In short, a man must make but very few reflections upon life, if he designs to pass it happily; nay, he ought to use a quite different Conduct. He must

often steal as it were from himself, and amongst the pleasures that other Objects give him, forget the knowledge of his own Misfortunes.