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[unspec 1] TEmperance is capable of a double Signification: Some∣times it is taken in a general Sense; for Moderation, and that Temper, which we commonly say should be pre∣served
in all manner of things whatsoever. In this compre∣hensive Interpretation, it does not denote any one Virtue in particular, but the Complex of them all in common; and is that quality, which seasons and gives a relish to good actions of every sort. In this Latitude we are under perpetual obli∣gations to it, but chiefly so, in those matters, that admit of Controversie; and engage us in Differences and Disputes. For the due observance of it thus understood, there needs but this single Direction, of laying aside all personal and self-ended Considerations, and make it our entire business to stick close to our Duty. For all lawful and commendable Affections are temperate; Hatred, and Anger, and Cruelty, are excesses much beyond the limits of Justice and Duty; and are only second-hand Remedies, necessary to be used up∣on them, who refuse to be kept to their Duty by the power of Reason, and the softer arts of Perswasion.
[unspec 2] But when this Term is used in a more restrained Signifi∣cation, then it imports a check and regulation of things plea∣sant and delightful to Sense; and such as our natural and carnal Appetites eagerly long after, and are gratified by. At present we extend it a little farther, for the Rule and Measure of a Man's Duty in all kinds of Prosperity, as For∣titude was said to be in every sort of Adversity: So that Temperance supplies the place of a Bridle, and Fortitude that of a Spur; this checks our Carcer of Gayety, that quickened our sluggish Fears, and rouzed us out of Despon∣dency. With these two in Conjunction, we are able to manage that brutal, and restiff, and wild part of us, which consists of the Passions; and shall not fail to demean our selves well and wisely, in every condition, and change of Fortune: Which is in truth the very summ and substance of Wisdom, and the very perfection I desire my Reader should aspire to.
[unspec 3] The general Object then of Temperance, is all manner of Prosperity; every thing that is pleasurable and gay, but espe∣cially and more peculiarly Pleasure, which this Virtue re∣gulates and retrenches. All that part, which is superfluous and unnatural, and vicious, it pares quite away; and that which is natural and necessary, it keeps within due measures. Thus we find it described by an Old Author,* 1.1 Pleasures are
her Province and proper Dominion; over these she presides, and exercises her Coercive power. Some she detests and utterly discards, others she corrects and distributes in their just propor∣tions. She never chooses any meerly for their own sakes, and the best measure of gratifying our Appetites she declares to be, the taking not so much of any of these Objects, as we have an inclination to, but so much only as is fit for us. This is the au∣thority and superintendance of Reason over those eager and violent Affections, which carry our Wills towards Pleasures and sensual Delights. The curb of our Soul, the instrument to scumm off those Ebullitions, which by the Heat and Intemperance of the Blood are apt to boyl over; that so the Mind may be preserved uniform, and in consistence with Reason: And not debase it self, by submitting, and accom∣modating its measures to sensible Objects, but preserve its rightful Superiority; and force them to serve and sute them∣selves to the Dictates of the Mind. By this we wean our Souls from the childish delights of the World, and qualifie them for a more substantial and generous sustenance. In short, it is a Rule, that squares all things by the proportions of Nature, Necessity, Simplicity, Ease, Health, and Strength, and Hardiness: For these are things that commonly go toge∣ther, and they are the measures and bounds which Wisdom sets out. As on the other hand, Art, and Luxury, Super∣fluity, Variety, Multiplicity, Difficulty, Sickness, a weak and tender Constitution, bear one another company, and are the usual attendants of Intemperance and Folly.* 1.2 The Necessaries of Life come cheap and easie, all the Labour and Toil is about the Delights and Entertainments of it. Nature intended we should take up with such things as she hath made ready at hand; and designed to free us from trouble; but we have created it to our selves, and made Life one perpetual difficulty, by nauseating and disdaining every thing that is easie.
[unspec 1] THat Prosperity, which comes to us leisurely and regular∣ly, in the usual Course of the World, and a common concurrence of visible Causes and Effects, (as particularly by our own Industry, or Frugality, Prudence and good Ma∣nagement; or by eminent Accomplishments and Deferts) is abundantly more stable and safe, and less exposed to the Envy of other People; than that which drops, as it were, into a Man's mouth, and is let down from Heaven upon him, to the surprise of all that know him, and beyond the very utmost of his own most Sanguine hopes.
[unspec 2] Prosperity is a State of infinite hazard and danger: As soon as ever this fair Gale begins to blow, all that is light, and empty in the Soul, is immediately carried up with the breath of it. Nothing hath so pestilent an influence, to stupifie and ruin Men, and make them forget themselves: They perish, and are spoiled, like Corn born down by a full Ear, and Branches broke with excessive quantities of Fruit. And therefore it is necessary, a Man should be sensible what slip∣pery ground he stands upon, and look to his steps according∣ly; but especially he should beware, that he be not carried to Insolence and Contempt of others, Pride and Presump∣tion with regard to himself. These are Vices so incident to Mankind, that the least Temptation will suffice for them. And as some People (according to the Proverb) will be drowned in two foot of Water; so there are some too, who upon the least smile of Fortune, swell and look big, scarce know themselves, and are intolerable to all their Acquain∣tance. Of all the Pictures of Folly, which the World can furnish us with, this seems to be drawn most like the Life.
[unspec 3] From the unsteadiness of Mind it is, that we are able to give a rational account, why Prosperity should be so very short and uncertain, as generally we find it. For Persons in this Condition are for the most part ill-advised, and this In∣advertency makes frequent and quick Revolutions; changes the Scene from Joy and Grandeur, to Calamity, and Sor∣row, and Want; alienates the Affections of Providence; provokes Almighty God to take back again what Men make
such ill use of. To all which we may add the secret and undiscernable Reasons of his Dispensations, or, to express the thing in a more secular Phrase, that Inconstancy of For∣tune, which from a fond Mother changes her humour unac∣countably to all the Severities of a cruel and cursed Step∣mother.
[unspec 4] Now the properest Advice upon this occasion, is for a Man to restrain and moderate his Opinions and Affections of the good things of this World; not to esteem them too highly, nor imagine himself one whit the better or the worse Man, for the Enjoyment or the Want of them; and the natural Consequence of this so low Valuation will be, not to desire them with any degree of vehemence. If they fall to his Lot, to accept them as the Gift of a bountiful Master; and to serve him with them thankfully and cheerfully; but always to look upon these, as foreign and additional Advantages; no necessary, no inseparable part of Life: Such as he might have been very well without, and such, as, while he hath them, are not to be made any great account of, or suffered to change the temper of his Mind, either higher or lower. For,* 1.3 What Fortune hath made yours, is none of yours. He that will live safe and easie, must decline those treacherous Baits, those Limed twigs of Fortune. For what hath she in her disposal, worth engaging our desires, or fixing our Heart and Hopes upon?
[unspec 1] BY Pleasure I understand a Perception, or Sensation of that which is agreeable to Nature; a delightful Motion or tickling of the Senses; as, on the contrary, by Pain is meant some disagreeable Sensation, which produces Sorrow, and is grievous to Nature. But those Philosophers, (as the Sect of the Epicuraeans in particular,) who resolved the chief Hap∣piness of Man into Pleasure, and paid it greater Honour than we think fit to do, took it in another Signification, and
extended the thing no farther than a privation of Grief or Uneasiness, such as they thought sit to express by Indolence. According to their notion, humane Nature was capable of rising no higher, than the not being uneasie. This is a sort of middle State, a Neutrality between the first and vulgar acceptation of the Word, and Pain: And bears the same Proportion, with regard to this Life, which some Divines have thought Abraham's Bosom does to the next; A Condi∣tion between the exquisite Happiness of Heaven, and the extreme Torments of Hell. 'Tis a sweet and peaceable se∣dateness of Body and Mind; an uniform, constant, and fix∣ed Pleasure; which carries some resemblance to that Euthy∣mia, or tranquility of Soul, which other Philosophers e∣steemed our chief Good: Whereas the other is an active and sensible Pleasure, full of vigorous and sprightly motion. At this rate, there would be three distinct Conditions, of which Mankind are capable; two in extremes, Pleasure and Pain; which are neither stable nor durable, but both of them sickly, and in excess; the Mean between them firm, and sound, healthful and permanent; to which the Epicuraeans attributed the name of Pleasure, (and such indeed it is, when compared with Pain) and placed the supreme happiness of our Nature in it. This unhappy Name brought that general scandal upon their Sect, which the opposite Parties of Phi∣losophers insult over with so much Pomp and Triumph. For after all, (as Seneca with great Ingenuity confesses,) there was no hurt but in the Name; no offence, but what was meerly Titular; for to those who will be at the pains of a nice Examination into their Lives and Manners, it will appear, that none ever advanced Doctrines of stricter Sobriety, none were greater Enemies to Vice and all manner of Debau∣chery, none more distant from those Reproaches to a rational Soul, than the Men of this Profession. Nor indeed was it without a fair appearance of Reason, that they gave this name of Pleasure to that so much exalted Indolence of theirs. For this Titillation of the Sense comes at last to this, and seems to make it the ultimate end and aim of all the more feeling satisfactions we find in it; as for instance, the delight we find in Meats and Drinks, pretends to nothing more, than to deliver us from that torture and those eager cravings, which Hunger and Thirst had brought upon us; and, by satifying the Appetite, to place us in a Condition of Ease and Repose, till the same Wants return again upon us.
[unspec 2] The learned World have behaved themselves very diffe∣rently upon this occasion. They have determined very pe∣remptorily on both sides, and, (as is usual, with hot and positive People,) have both over-shot the Mark: Some have perfectly adored Pleasure, and exalted it into a Deity; o∣thers pretend the greatest Detestation of it, and expose it for a Monster: They start and tremble at the very Name, and cannot allow it to import any thing but what is full of Guilt, and a Scandal to humane Nature. Those who condemn it without more ado, proceed to Sentence upon these following Considerations. They tell you, that it is, First, a short and transitory Enjoyment, a fire of Thorns, kindled and extinct in a moment, especially if it be vigorous and exquisite; for in proportion as you add to the Degree, so much you take off from the duration of it. Secondly, That it is a nice and tender thing, the least Accident corrupts and em∣bitters it; that a drop of Pain will sowr an ocean of Plea∣sure. Thirdly, That it is mean and base, attended with shame, and attained by those parts of our Body, which Na∣ture hath placed out of sight, as if she were out of Counte∣nance at the gratifying our own Inclinations. This however is true but of some Pleasures; for there are some, which affect Pomp and Ostentation. Fourthly, That we are quick∣ly cloyed with it. Men are formed in such a manner, that their Constitutions will not bear the long continuance of any exalted Pleasure. There is a certain Impatience attends it, and we soon grow weary of what we most eagerly desired but just before. Whereas, on the contrary, Nature hath made us hard and tough, and able to weather out very long Pains, as hath been observed formerly: This short Pleasure too, is often followed by long Remorse; it produces mon∣strous Mischiefs, and is more fruitful in nothing, than in the ruin of single Persons, and Families, and whole Countries. But the fault they insist most upon, is, That, when Men are most intent upon gratifying it, it does so entirely possess and tyrannize over them, that it usurps the whole Man, and will not so much as admit Reason to interpose, or share in the Entertainment.
[unspec 3] On the other hand, the Advocates of Pleasure plead not guilty to this Indictment, and alledge in defence of their Cause; That Pleasure is natural, created by Almighty God himself, and contrived for the good of the World, made subservient to the Preservation and continuance of his Crea∣tures, Nature, which is the Parent of Pleasure, seems con∣vinced
of its necessity, in that all the actions, by which Life is sustained, are seasoned with, and recommended by it. And yet all Philosophy hath allowed, that the way to live well, is to follow the Dictates of Nature. God placed Man, du∣ring the state of Innocence, in a place and condition richly, furnished with vast variety of Delights: And the very name given by Moses to Paradise, is in the Hebrew Language Pleasure: And not only so, but,* 1.4 if we raise our Eyes and Thoughts above this World to the highest perfection, which Religion bids us aspire after. What are the felicities of the Saints above, but a lasting, and uninterrupted Series of Pleasure? They shall be filled with the Pleasures of thy House, and thou shalt give them Drink out of thy Pleasures, as out of the River, says the Psalmist, when he would describe the Satisfactions of the holiest Men. These, I confess, do not mean those gross and carnal Satisfactions, which this Term is abusively made to denote; but it ought not by any means to be confined within that compass, as if nothing that is tru∣ly generous and great could be intended by it. These things ought to be included, when we speak in vindication of Pleasure; and the other have no reason to be disdained, when regulated by Equity and Reason. And, accordingly we find, that the most renowned Philosophers, and acknowledged patterns of Virtue, such as Zeno, Cato, Scipio, Epaminondas, Plato, and the Immortal Socrates himself, did not think it below them to tast the Comforts and Diversions of Life; nay, descended so far, as even to Discourse, and write Tracts of those, which some now by an affected nicety, pretend to accuse, (as you have heard,) and would in their mighty, but mistaken zeal for Virtue, fain banish out of the World, under the odious Character of Pleasures of Sense.
[unspec 4] Since therefore Wise Men have been so much divided in their Opinions upon this Subject, it will be necessary for us to proceed cautiously; and to distinguish these Pleasures into their several sorts; without which we shall never be able to come to any just and true Resolution of the Case arising hereupon; nor satisfie our selves, which are lawful Plea∣sures, or how far any are so. First then, we must take no∣tice, that some Pleasures are natural, and others unnatural; This Distinction being of all the rest most important to our present purpose, will be considered more particularly by and by. Some again are pompous, and showy, nice and diffi∣cult; others are silent and secret, easie and ready at hand. Pleasure is not ambitious of Splendor and Observation, but
esteems her own solitary Enjoyments, Wealth enough, with∣out concerning her self what other People think of her; and enjoys her self more in Retirement, than in the eye of the World. Those again, that are so very easie, as to be al∣ways at our command, grow flat, and nauseous, and lose all their relish, except there be now and then a little Unea∣sieness or Obstruction, to set an edge upon our Appetite. There are likewise spiritual, and corporeal Pleasures: The ground of which Distinction is not any real Separation ca∣pable of being made between them; for Pleasure of every kind affects the whole Man; and extends to every part of the Composition; and one part hath not any one resentment peculiar to it self, which the other does not likewise share in; nor can have while this intimate Union of Soul and Body continues the present Life to us. But that which is the true foundation of this Distinction, is, that there are some Sentiments, which affect the Mind, more than they do the Body, and may therefore very fitly be called manly Plea∣sures; as being more proper to us, better suited to our Fa∣culties and powers of Perception, than they are to those of Beasts; And, as they are more worthy in respect of the Faculties they are commensurate to, so are they likewise more steady and durable. Such, for instance, are those Sa∣tisfactions, which enter at our Eyes, and Ears; for these two Senses are the Doors of the Soul, and the Objects they receive, only pass through there, in their way to the Soul; which entertains, feeds upon, and digests them, and finds long Refreshments and Delights from them. But the Body tasts but a very little part of these Satisfactions: Others again, the Body ingrosses almost wholly to it self; such as those of the Touch, and the Taste; which are more mate∣rial, and of a courser Composition: Such as Brutes keep us Company in. And such Pleasures are received, performed, and finished, by the Body, and its Organs. The Mind hath no other advantage in them, than by Reflection only; and what must needs belong to it, while it continues an assistant and Companion to the Body. And these are short, and tran∣sient, the crackling of Thorns, the flash of a Meteor; born, and bred up, and dead in a moment.
[unspec 5] Now the main thing we are concerned to know upon this occasion, is, how it will become us to behave our selves in the fruition and government of our Pleasures. This is the Lesson, that Philosophy pretends to teach, and the particular difficulty Temperance makes provision against. And here
first, we ought to put a very great difference between natu∣ral, and unnatural Pleasures: By the unnatural, I do not understand those only, which are contrary to Nature, and such usages as the Laws have established and approved; but even those which are the most natural of all others, are com∣prehended under this Title, in case they degenerate, and run out into Superfluity and great Excesses. For these things are not within the Verge of Nature, for She concerns her self no farther, than meerly to supply our Necessities and real Wants, which (however) we have leave to enlarge a little, and that we may not complain of scanty measure, are free to consult Convenience and common Decency. For Ex∣ample, it is a natural Pleasure, to be sheltered by a good tight House, and to have our Nakedness covered with good warm Cloaths; for these secure our Persons from Wind and Weather, and bitter pinching Blasts; and are some defence against the attempts of wicked Villains. But now, that those Cloaths should be of Tissue or Embroidery, or that House built of Jasper and Porphyry; this there is no occasion for, and the satisfaction which would result from their being such, is not any natural Pleasure. Again, they may be un∣natural, if they do not come to us in the way, and method of Nature; as, if they are sought with Anxiety and Indu∣stry, procured by Artifice, prepared by Medicines, or any other Stratagems of humane device and invention, to create, to heighten, to force, either the Appetite, or the Pleasure by which it is gratified. So they are likewise, when for∣med and beaten out originally in the Mind, by the strength of imagination, or the violence of Passion, and so are after∣wards communicated to the Body; which is just inverting the order of Nature: For the usual Course is, that Pleasure should begin in the Body, and from thence pass on to the Mind. And indeed, as that Laughter, which is forced by Tickling, is not natural nor pleasant, but rather a con∣vulsion and violence upon Nature; so that Pleasure, which is courted, and industriously contrived, kindled up first in the Soul, and from thence descending to the Body, is not a regular and natural Pleasure.
[unspec 6] Now the first Rule, which Wisdom would prescribe with regard to Pleasures, is, to condemn, and utterly abandon all the Unnatural, as Vicious, and Spurious; and to allow and entertain such as are Natural. For, as those who come to a Feast without any invitation, should be turned home again; so those Pleasures, that obtrude themselves upon us, without
even being bidden by Nature, are to be looked upon as Busie-bodies and Smell-feasts, and either denied entrance, or thrust out of Doors again. But neither may we think our selves at liberty, to entertain the true Guests as we please, for even these must be treated by Rule, and with Modera∣tion. And thus you have the Duty and Business of Tempe∣rance in general laid before you at once; The whole of which may be reduced to these two good Offices; exclu∣ding all unnatural Pleasures, and regulating those that are natural.
[unspec 7] Now the Regulation of natural Pleasures will depend up∣on the due Observance of these three Rules.
[unspec 8] Now, as Moderation and Regularity in our Pleasures, is a most decent and beautiful, a most useful and profitable thing, agreeable to the Laws of God, the design of Nature, and the dictates of Reason: So on the contrary, Extrava∣gance and Excesses of all sorts are odious and deformed, hateful to God and Man, and the most destructive that can be, both to the publick Good, and Men's own private Inte∣rest. Pleasure unduly taken softens and enervates the Soul, enervates and preys upon the Body, makes Fools of the Wise, and Cowards of the Brave. What a lamentable in∣stance of this was Hannibal, whose Courage was more bro∣ken by the Luxuries of Capita, than by the rugged Passes of the Alpes, or all the Efforts of the Roman Armies? This gave occasion for the Lacedaemonians, who denounced open War against all manner of Effeminacy, to be called Men; and the Athenians, who were soft, and delicate in their way of Living, to be reproached with the Nick-name of Women. When Xerxes undertook to punish the City of Babylon for a
Revolt they had made, and to secure himself against any danger that might come from that Quarter for the future: The Method he took, was to bring all the Exercise of Arms, and other laborious and fatiguing Practices into Disuse; and to let loose all manner of Pleasures and sensual Delights among them, with free Liberty for every Man to revel in these without Check or Controul.
Secondly, It banishes all the bravest and most Heroick Vir∣tues from the Mind, where it hath taken possession; for these are serious and severe, considerate and hardy, and cannot be endured by a Master of so contrary a Temper; nor indeed were it possible for them to live under so effeminate and dissso∣lute, so careless and unthinking a Government.
Thirdly, It quickly degenerates, and sinks into its contrary Sentiment, which is Pain and Uneasiness, Dislike and Re∣morse. As the Freshes run apace to the Sea, and lose the sweetness of their native Rivers, in Tides of Salt Water. Thus the honey of Pleasure in the Mouth, upbraids the Eater, and turns to the Gall of Pain upon the Stomach.* 1.5 All exquisite Pleasure stands upon a ticklish point, and all its generous Taste is upon the turn; sowrs, and changes, and is swallowed up in Pain; the very moment it rises to excessive Joy, Grief dwells upon the confines, and one step beyond its own bounds, brings you into this troublesome Neighbours ground.
Lastly, It is the Seminary of all manner of Mischief, and final Ruin. This is the Lure to draw us in, and when we are once in, we stick at nothing: This is the conveyer of secret Intelligences, the betrayer of Councils and Trusts, the contriver of Treasons, and under-hand Designs against the Peace and Safety of Mankind. In short, the love of Plea∣sure ruins private Persons by Prodigality and Injustice, dis∣honours and stains whole Families by Debauchery, and shameless Lewdness: Propagates Diseases, and entails Beg∣gary upon Children yet unborn; corrupts publick Justice; murder's Kings, overturns Governments, and scatters Confu∣sion and Misery over the face of the whole Earth. Thus much may be most justly said of Pleasure in general, which being now sufficiently enlarged upon, we will proceed to consider the several kinds of it in particular.
[unspec 1] THe true design of Meat and Drink is Nourishment: To sustain the Infirmities, and repair the continual decays of the Body; and a moderate, natural, and agreeable use of them satisfies and maintains it, makes it a serviceable instru∣ment for the Mind; whereas on the contrary, all unnatural Excesses weaken and overwhelm it, draw on grievous and noisome Diseases, which are the just and natural Punishments of Intemperance.* 1.6 Health is a plain and simple thing, and requires a cause of the same kind to produce it: Distempers are many and various, and nothing contributes more to them, than variety of Dishes, and high Feeding. When Men complain of their Head for so many troublesome Defluxions, and those Humours which fall upon the Vitals, and lays the founda∣tions of the most dangerous Diseases, they should do well to remember, how justly the Brain might return upon them, that old saying,† 1.7 Do you give over pouring in, and I will give over pouring out. While we are perpetually filling the Vessel, how is it possible it should not over-flow? But alas! these Considerations are now grown quite out of fashion. Excess and Pomp, Variety and nice Cookery, are come into Re∣putation. We have learnt to esteem our Meals, and to mea∣sure our welcome, by the number of Dishes, the different sorts of Meats, the height of the Sawces, and the super∣fluity of the Entertainment. Nay, so prodigious is our Va∣nity, that after we have set more before our Friends, than can be wholesome for them to taste of, or fit for us to spend, we make solemn Excuses for our want of Provision, and are sorry we have nothing better to receive them with.
[unspec 2] How exceeding prejudicial, both to a Man's Body and his Mind, full Meals, and the jumbling several sorts of Meat toge∣ther, Curiosities and Qualques Choses, and high Dressing are, every one might easily be convinced by his own Experience. Gluttony and Drunkenness are gross and paltry Vices; they
discover themselves, and sufficiently publish their own Shame in the Countenances and Gestures of the Persons addicted to them. The best and least forbidding whereof is a dozed, and heavy look; and indeed, the best Quality such Men can have, is to be stupid and dull too. For certain it is, no Man yet, who is a slave to his Belly, was ever capable of doing any glorious or considerable Action. And, generally speak∣ing, we find them trifling and insignificant Fellows, if not down right Beasts and Sots. But Drunkenness especially hath these cursed Effects, and pushes Men upon the basest, the most extravagant, and unaccountable actions in the World. Of which Alexander is a miserable Instance, though otherwise a wonderful Prince; who in heat of Wine killed his old dear Friend Clytus, and when he came to be sober; had like to have killed himself in Revenge. In short, what can be said bad enough of a Vice that robs the Mind of Un∣derstanding, and the Body of Sence; makes grown People Children again, and Men of Wit mere Naturals, and dri∣veling Fools?
[unspec 3] Sobriety therefore, which preserves us from these nauseous and detestable Excosses, deserves our good Esteem for its Ef∣fects at least. For although it be none of the most exalted Virtues, nor exceeding difficult to be mastered, by Men of any tolerable Sense, yet it leads the way to several other Virtues, and promotes many excellent Qualities. It chokes and crops our Vices in the very Bud, and intercepts the Pro∣visions, by which they should subsist. It is the Mother of Health, and the best Physick for all manner of Diseases; and the most probable insurer of long Life. Socrates owed the vigorous and confirmed Health he enjoyed purely to Abste∣miousness. Masinissa, who was a Pattern of it to all Kings of after Ages, begot Children at Fourscore and Six years Old, and won a Battel of the Carthaginians at Ninety Two. Whereas Alexander, who had naturally one of the best and strongest Constitutions of any Man that ever lived, killed himself with Drinking in the very Flower of his Age. Se∣veral Persons (as Atticus particularly) who have been given over by Physicians, of the Gout, and other Distempers, looked upon to be incurable, have been perfectly recovered by Abstinence, and a sparing regular Diet. And what can we desire more for the Body, than a long, and a healthful Life? What can recommend any Virtue to Men fond of the World, if this will not? But then it is of equal advantage to the Soul too. For by this means our Heads are kept
clear and unclouded, our Faculties awake and sprightly, we are capable of thinking, and fit to be advised. All the very great Men in Story have been particularly eminent for their Sobriety; not only Philosophers, and such as made preten∣sions to a strict and severer Virtue, but all that have been Ex∣cellent, and whose Names live upon Record, for any sort of Greatness whatsoever. Such were Cyrus, and Caesar, the Emperour Julian, and Mahomet. Such was Epicurus too, who, though a profest admirer of Pleasure, and run down as a Scandal to Philosophy for espousing it, was yet famous for these abstemious Virtues, above any of his Accusers. The Curij and Fabricij are more celebrated in the Roman Hi∣story for their frugality and simplicity of Diet, than for the greatest and most glorious Conquests they ever won. And though the Lacedaemonians wanted neither Courage, nor Suc∣cess, nor a Reputation equal to both, yet the Character they valued themselves upon, and pretended most to, was that of strict Discipline, Frugality and Sobriety.
[unspec 4] Now this is a Virtue which must be fallen in love with betimes; Youth is the proper time for embracing it; while it can be called a Virtue; while we have more opportuni∣ties of gratifying our Appetite; and while that Appetite is keener too. For how wretched is it, how ridiculous, to take Sanctuary here in our old Age, when we have made our selves living Hospitals, and are all over Aches and Pains? This is a folly, like that observed in the Athenians.; who are said never to have asked a Peace, but in Mourning Weeds, for their Friends and Relations slain in Battel; when all their Men of Note were lost, and they no longer in a condition to defend themselves. This is what our English Proverb calls* 1.8 Shutting the Stable-door when the Steed is stol∣len; and turning good Husbands, when we have brought our Noble to Ninepence.
[unspec 5] It will be very adviseable, not to use our selves to deli∣cious and artificial Meats, for fear our Body should by de∣grees come to relish no other, and suffer for the want of them. For in truth, these make our Appetites humoursome, and give us both a false Hunger, and a deceitful Nourishment. These may feed our Diseases and ill Humours, but the plainer and courser our Diet, the truer strength and more kindly Nourishment it imparts. These therefore we shall do
well to accustom our Palates to, if we would secure our Ease and Health: For they are easie and every where to be had; and so our desires are not like to be disappointed when we want, and they are also lightest of digestion and most agreeable to Nature when we have them.
[unspec 1] CLoathing was observed in the beginning of this Treatise, to have been none of those things which are natural and necessary, nor to have been originally in use with Mankind; But it is meerly artificial, invented for our convenience, and in request with no other Creature in the World. Now it is usual with all Inventions to increase and multiply; every day refines and improves them still more, till at last there is no end of their Variety. Multiplicity is the certain Character of Art, as Simplicity is of Nature. The conse∣quence then of Apparel being Artificial, is that it runs in∣to insinite Fantastical forms, and differs in proportion to Peo∣ple's Fansies and Humours. Accordingly we find, that the greater part of Tradesmen and Handicrafts Men deal in such Commodities and Manufactures as are converted to the defence and ornament of the Body. But it were well if this only were regarded; for from hence they are come to such Extravagancies and Abuses, that our Garments are no longer a covering to our Defects, and a supply to our Necessities, but a nest of Vanity and Vice* 1.9 These are the great occasion of Quarrels and Disputes; for the distin∣ction of property seems to have begun in this point: When things were most in common, every Man had a peculiar ti∣tle to the Cloths he wore, which is intimated by the French Language in particular, expressing all manner of Rapine, by Stripping, Dérober; and the English Word Robbing, is very probably an Allusion to the same thing.
[unspec 2] This Vice hath always been most remarkable in the Fe∣male Sex, and if it be not entirely theirs, the Scandal is the greater to those Men who descend so low: For there is not in the whole World a surer sign of a poor and little Soul,
than this striving to recommend ones self, and gain respect by such despicable means as Dress and Rich Cloths: None will insist, none depend upon these Ornaments but they who have no other. How wretched a thing is it to confi∣der the Care and Cost laid out upon Luxury and Shew, and the general neglect of those shining Habits of the Mind; that Virtue, that Bravery which should enable us to make a beautiful Appearance, and set us off in real and solid Ex∣cellences? The Lacedaemonians prohibited any but common Women to wear gay and sumptuous Cloths; this was lookt upon as the mark to distinguish such infamous people by; but the Ladies of Reputation desired to be known by their severe Honour a•••• shining Virtues.
[unspec 3] Now the true an•• lawful use of Apparel is to keep out Wind and Weather, and all other severities and inconvenien∣ces, which our Bodies would suffer by being exposed to the open Air: And it is a great fault to divert the thing from this to other vain and Sinful purposes. In order to answer∣ing their proper end it is plain, Clothes need not, they ought not to be expensive; for the richer they are, the less are they qualified to defend and secure our ease: But then some regard must be had to Decency too, and distinction of Qua∣lities; all which may be done with Gravity and frugality, observing the just medium* 1.10 between affected Slovenliness and effeminate Nicety. Caligula made himself ridiculous by the softness and Fantasticalness of his Habit; and Augustus was as much admired and commended for the Modesty and Gravity of his.
[unspec 1] COntinency is a Virtuo of very difficult Practice, and requires an exceeding strong and vigilant guard over our selves: For all our perfections of this kind are so many violences upon nature and inclination, which are not in a∣ny case to be withstood without much Toil and Painfulness, and very obstinate Resolutions, but in this before us especi∣ally;
because here the propensions to Vice seem to be strong∣est, and the Sollicitations to it more frequent and impor∣tunate than in any other instance whatsoever.
[unspec 2] But still the greater the difficulty of this Conquest is, the greater is its Commendation, and the more just and glorious its Triumph. And very necessary it is, that every Man should rally his Forces and engage manfully in this War with him∣self. Continency is allowed no positive Virtue, and im∣ports no more than a Man's governing and restraining him∣self so far as not to act contrary to his Duty. It produces no fruit, but consists in privation and a forbearing to act; and therefore Virginity must always imply Barrenness. This is the case of Continency considered abstractedly and in its own nature, which at this rate is of no higher a Class in the scale of Virtues than the abstaining from Gluttony and Drunkenness, or any other sort of Vicious Excess. But if we consider it in a Christian and more exalted Sense, then it imports a great deal more: for thus there are two con∣curring Qualifications which make it a very noble Virtue; the one is a settled purpose to continue in it pure and un∣blemished, with a Chast Mind and mortified Affections, no less than a Body holy and undefiled: The other, that this be done for Religious and Excellent ends, to gain greater advantages of becoming Singular, and exemplary in Piety and all manner of goodness. For (as St. August in says,) It is not the Single State that we commend in Virgins, but their Abandoning the World, and Consecrating their Souls and Bo∣dies entirely to God: Witness the Vestals of Old, and the Five Foolish Virgins in the Parable, whose Celibacy stood them in no stead at all. And here I observe by the way, how Absurd a Vanity and Popular an Errour that is, which in common speech calls the Ladies who have no blemish upon their Reputation, and who either are Chast in the Single Life or Faithful in the Married one; Women of great Virtues and great Honour. Honour! For what? Is Honour sunk so low, that the meer not doing evil and not violating one's Duty in the most Scandalous instance must pretend to that name? Why do we not by the same Reason style those Men of Honour who are under the same Circumstances? Nay, there would indeed be more Reason for this than the other, because the manner of the World puts more Opportu∣nities of offending in these respects, and exposes Men to stronger Temptations, than Women are liable to. But in truth, Honour is so far from being a Recompence due to
the abstaining from evil, that it is not every sort of good, which when punctually performed can lay claim to it; but (as was said before) those kinds and degrees of good only which bring advantage to the World, and which, besides their being beneficial, have cost great toil and trouble, and been atchieved with considerable difficulty and danger.
But besides; how few of these Continent persons arrive even at a common and very practicable Virtue? How ma∣ny of them do we find scandalously tainted with other Vices, and making up for this self-denial by indulgences to some more darling Humour or Passion? Particularly, how ex∣ceeding few are there who escape the Temptations to Vani∣ty and Presumption, and Spiritual Pride, and while they take marvellous Content in their own perfections are very liberal in their Censures and Condemnations of other Peo∣ple? Does not experience frequently convince us, how very dear some Husbands pay for the Fidelity of their Wives; who while they dispossess the Devil in one part of their Souls and preserve their Honour entire, do yet erect a Throne for him, and let him reign Triumphant in another? If then this Virtue beget insolence and Malice, Censoriousness and Imperious Pride, it is like to turn at last but to very poor account. And thus clogged will very ill deserve the name of Virtue, whatever it might be allowed otherwise: Not that I am over scrupulous, or would stand with the Sex for a Complement; and therefore, provided the flattering them with this title of Honour, will contribute any thing to the making them more tender of it, and encourage the Mo∣desty and Decency becoming their Sex and Condition, I shall be content to promote the discharge of their Duty at any rate, though it be by straining a point to gratifie an use∣ful Vanity. But to return; It is likewise observable, that In∣continency when simply and strictly considered, like other faults which are what we call Corporeal, and tending to gratifie the Carnal inclinations of Humane nature, hath no mighty Ma∣lignity in its own single self; (it being only an excess of what is natural and not contrary to Humane nature,) but then there is a train of vices so black and hideous attending it, and some or more of them so inseparable from it, that the danger of being entangled in those snares is infinite, and the consequence very fatal: For this is one of those sins that never go alone, but is accompanied with other Devils more and more wicked than it self; tainted with base and villainous circumstances of persons and places, and times
prohibited and unpardonable; Intrigues carried on, and beast∣ly satisfactions contrived by the wickedest methods; Lyes and Tricks, and all manner of Deceit; Subornation and Forswearing, and Treachery; to all which we may add that which is by no means inconsiderable; the loss of Time, the distraction of Thought, the interruption of Business, and other unbecoming Follies, which draw very great and just Scandals, and insupportable mischiefs after them.
[unspec 3] Now because this Vice hath every Quality that can ren∣der an Enemy formidable, since it is both violent and de∣ceitful, and attacks us at once with open force and secret stratagems, our Care must likewise be double; First to arm and prepare our selves for the Combat, and then to watch diligently the approaches, observe its Feints, and be well aware of those baits and wheedling Insinuations which are laid on purpose to decoy us into Ambushments and Ruine: And the more these inclinations sooth and cajole us, the more suspicious we must be, and turn the deaf Ear to their flat∣tering importunities. Among other Considerations therefore fit to be opposed to such Temptations, these that follow may not be improper to reflect upon: That another person's Beauty is nothing at all to us, what we can never call or make our own; That it is no certain happiness even to them who have it, but turns as often to their prejudice, and is at least equally disposed to do so as to their Advantage: That in short, it is a flower always withering and in decay; a very small and fanciful thing, little else but the outward skin, nay less than that, the Colour and Complection of it only; And therefore, if in this we would admire the delicacy and skill of nature let us prize it here, as we are wont to do those much more astonishing Beauties of the Sun and Moon, for their Excellencies and the good influences they shed. When we enjoy this Beauty, and have made it our own property by fair and honest means, let us even then remember that this is a very low and mean satisfaction, so far from being peculiar to the dignity of Humane nature, that Brutes all partake and are most of them supposed to exceed us in it; That the immoderate use of Pleasure wastes the Body, softens and ef∣feminates the Soul, enfeebles and darkens the understand∣ing: That a world of people have fallen miserable Sacri∣fices to their inordinate Lusts, some in the loss of their Lives, others of their Fortunes, and others of their Senses, but the Reputations murdered by it are innumerable. Con∣sider again, that there is more honour, nay, I will add more
pleasure too, in vanquishing these desires than in complying with them. And all the transports of fruition are flat and dull, nauseous and insipid, in comparison of those ravishing satisfactions which overflow in our Souls, when we have gained a virtuous and noble Conquest over our selves. And this is the general Sense of Sober Mankind; for there is no one Action in the Life of Alexander or Scipio, in which their Historians so justly glory, as that of the treatment they gave to their beautiful Captives, and the tenderness for their Honour, which the Fortune of War was generally thought a privilege to violate. This Continency and Conquest of themselves is more highly commended than all their succes∣ses, and hath more engaging Charms than the fairest of their Prisoners could ever boast of. These I say, are Considera∣tions pertinent and proper enough, but it cannot be ex∣pected they should have a constant efficacy: For this Vice abounds with Sophistry and cunning, and as it will not be reasoned with sometimes, so at other times it will not be safe to go about it; And therefore in cases of violent As∣saults, the best course will be to betake our selves to our heels and get loose from the Temptation. And it is very observable, that the Holy Ghost which bids us in all ordi∣nary cases Resist the Devil,* 1.11 with a promise that he shall flee from us; yet when he mentions Youthful Lusts, the advice is, that we would flee from them.* 1.12 Debates as well as delays are dangerous here, the Cause must be referred to a Judge un∣der shrewd suspicions of Corruption; and therefore the safest Issue we can make is to throw it out and never give it the hearing. Business, Recreation, Company, any thing to di∣vert this stream of our Thoughts and Affections into another Channel: There can be no difficulty in the Choice; for in such cases the worst Company a Man can possibly be in is to have none but his own.
[unspec 4] Now we are to observe, that both the Virtue of Conti∣nency and its contrary Vice is of several kinds and different degrees: The chief and that which I shall speak to at pre∣sent is the Conjugal sort, that mutual and inviolable Fideli∣ty between Man and Wife, which, as it was the first and highest Obligation, so is it the most sacred, the most important, and that which both Publick Society and Private Persons are deeply and inevitably interested in: And there∣fore this ought to be held in the most Profound Veneration and Esteem; and not suffered to become the Jest and com∣mon scorn of profligate Lewdness; the Diversion of a
Theatre; or the boasted Triumph of a Man of the Town. The Parties concerned in these holy Engagements must have no Affections, nor cherish any desires beyond the Chast Em∣braces of each other; but utterly Abandon the very wishes of stollen and unlawful delights, and be content to Drink the Waters of their own Cistern;* 1.13 and the running Waters of their own Well; that is, pure and innocent, unpolluted and untroubled delights of a faithful and lawful Marriage; as the Wise Man expresses it, according to the usual significan∣cy and extraordinary decency of the Scripture Stile. They that allow themselves in other liberties, fall into the blackest and most complicated guilt imaginable; they violate and Sin against their own Bodies, by making them Vessels and Instruments of Uncleanness and Dishonour; they transgress against all manner of Laws which any Man can be bound by. The Laws of Revealed Religion which forbid us to prostitute our selves to silthiness and shame, and have com∣manded the strictest purity of Conversation; the Law of Nature, which forbids the invading another Man's proper∣ty; and the tenderer the right is to him, the more de∣testable is the injustice; the Law of Reason and Equity, which enjoyns fidelity and stedfastness to promises and mu∣tual Contracts; the Laws of the Land, which have Esta∣blished Marriages as the only conveyance of Right, and giv∣ing a Title and Propriety in such cases; the undoubted Rights of Families, by grafting in a foreign growth upon the natural Stock, injuring the other Children, and trans∣ferring the fruit of a Man's Industry, his Acquisition or his Inheritance, to Strangers and Interlopers; the Laws of Justice and Charity, by starting difficulties and Disputes among Friends and Relations; alienating the Affections of Parents from their Children, and dissolving in great measure the Duty of Children to their Parents, when there are these Jealousies among them; and leaving a lasting and indelible stain upon the Unfortunate (though innocent) Posterity of so suspected a Race.
As to the other parts of this Vice I add only in one word; that though Adultery be the highest, yet it is not the only Violation of it; Men would therefore do well to see how many Aggravations of this kind just now mentioned concur in any of those allowances they make to themselves; to lay aside the byass of their present Passion, and even in ca∣ses of simple Fornication, ask their own Consciences how they should like to have the honour of a Sister or a Daugh∣ter
so injured by another person; and if they think but scurvily of such a blemish in a near Relation, this at least makes the gratification an offence against Reason and Equi∣ty, and natural Justice; nor is it in such circumstances for a Man to alledge that the partner of the crime is no other Man's, it is enough to Condemn him that She is not his own.
[unspec 1] THat this is a Desire which stands in great need of being tempered and restrained, no Man can suffer himself to doubt who at all considers the inordinacy of the Affection, the injurious courses it pushes the Patient upon, and the in∣finite mischief it does to society, when the Reins are let loose and we give it its head. But though the free Range of this Affection be so pernicious, yet we ought to take notice, that (according to what hath been formerly deliver∣ed upon the same occasion) all Ambition, all thirst either of Honour or of Reputation is not to be condemned without any distinction, but that as it may be ordered and mana∣ged, there is a great deal of good as well as hurt in the thing. For thus much may undoubtedly be alledged in its behalf, that it is of very great advantage to the State; since as the World now goes, the generous and publick spi∣rited Actions are most of them owing to it. This pushes Men on to hazardous Attempts, and thus we find it hath ever done; for, even among the Ancients, it is not to be supposed that all their so much celebrated Heroes were acted by a truly Philosophical Spirit. There were indeed your Socrates, and Phocion, and Aristides, and Epaminondas, your Cato's and Scipio's, who seem to have been Charmed by the bright Ideas of Virtue, without any the least mixture of addi∣tional and mercenary Considerations; but then there were a great many more who were manifestly moved by other Springs, such as Themistocles, and Alexander, and Caesar, who courted Fame, and were led on by the prospect of Greatness and Renown. And, though it be very true, that the Gal∣lant Exploits of such Persons when nicely examined, and
considered with regard to their proper Motives and the prin∣ciples their Authors went upon, be not, strictly speaking, the product of Virtue but of Ambition only; yet still they must be acknowledged of general use and benefit, and the conse∣quences of them to the publick in all respects the very same, as if the inducements had been the most refined and perfect that Humane nature is in any Case capable of. Now besides the force of this Consideration to commend it, the Philoso∣phers have allowed it to be excusable at least upon two occasions; the one is, when the Actions it excites Men to are profitable and good, but not in a degree of perfection eminent enough to pretend to the title of Virtuous; be∣cause they lie in common to all Mankind, and the good or ill dispositions of our minds incapacitate, no person from excelling in them. Of this kind particularly are Arts and Sciences, Humane Inventions, Military Courage, and all manner of Industry in general: The other is, when we find it necessary to preserve the favour and good Opinion of some person upon whom our interest depends; for though it be a standing rule in Philosophy, never to make the Opini∣on of others the measure of our Behaviour, yet there is this reserve, and allowed Exception, that we may govern our selves upon such principles, to avoid the inconveniences which either the want or Contempt of other Men's approbation may happen to involve us in.
[unspec 2] But indeed for a Man to practice Virtue merely upon this account, and aim at Honour and Reputation as if this were the proper wages and recompence of doing well, is not only a very vain and erroneous, but a most dangerous and destructive principle. This were a horrible disparage∣ment indeed, that Virtue should be rendered so precarious as to derive all its value from hence, and to engage our Affections upon no better Considerations than what are drawn from the judgment of the World: Every body must needs discern the courseness of this Alloy, and that such payment ought not to pass upon us. Virtue certainly is not yet so debased as to go a begging, and desiring testimonials for a subsistance. This reward is much below her seeking; and therefore we should so fix our minds with true and no∣ble Ideas of her, and settle our affections so firmly upon the thing it self, that this accidental lustre of the honours attending her may not dazle the Eyes of Reason, but leave us still the Discretion, to make a difference between re∣ceiving these as acknowledgments due for our good Actions,
and propounding them to our minds, as the end and ade∣quate Reward of them: So shall we be established upon a true bottom, and proceed upon resolutions sincere and immovable, such as will stand like so many Barriers a∣bout the Soul, and guard it against the vain assaults of vanity and Ambition, and every mean and selfish induce∣ment.
[unspec 3] A Man should be thoroughly perswaded of the sufficiency and self-satisfaction of Virtue, that it asks no Nobler a Theatre to represent its excellency in than one's own Gon∣science; this is spectator and audience enough, and if this applaud the Action the matter is not great who discom∣mends it. The higher the Sun is above the Horizon, the less shadow it casts; and the more Sublime any Man's Vir∣tue is, the less affectation of Honour and Fame it is at∣tended with. Nor is the similitude improper, if we consi∣der the nature of the thing: For Glory is in earnest a very shadow, it follows those that flie from it, and runs away from those that pursue it. We should always remember who sent us hither and what we are doing. That Life is a Play where the parts are infinitely various, but no Man chooses what he will act; he acquits himself well who studies the humour of the part assigned him, and performs it agreeably to its Character, or (as Epictetus says upon another occasion,) that we live in this World, as People sit at an Entertain∣ment, where every well mannered Man will be content to feed upon that Dish which the Master of the Feast helps him to, without reaching over the Table, and scrambling and snatching from other People's Plates. If then a Prefer∣ment, or some Office of Honour and Trust be offered to us, if we are capable of discharging it, let us accept it gladly, but modestly too; and let us do the duty of it faithfully and sincerely; assuring our selves, that God hath set us our Post; and that by committing to us a publick Trust, he ex∣pects we should stand Centry, and be continually upon the Guard; that by our vigilant care those who are committed to our charge may sleep securely. And for all this Labori∣ous Attendance, let us propose no other Recompence or Commendation, than that only of our own Consciences; and the sweet satisfactions of doing what becomes us; or if others do, (as without question, they will) see and ap∣prove our Good works; let us desire, that the Testimony of our having done well, may be graven in the Hearts of our Countrey, rather than published by Statues, and pom∣pous
Frontispieces, and long flattering Inscriptions. In a word, let this be a Principle with us; that the Fruit of noble, generous Actions cannot possibly be lost; that the glory of having done them is an ample Compensa∣tion: And that, when Virtue descends to go out of her self, and look abroad for a Reward, she undervalues her own worth, and must take up with things beneath her. To despise Greatness, and expose the vanity of setting our Hearts upon it, is no such mighty matter. He that loves himself, and can make any tolerable Judgment of Happiness, will be content with a moderate and easie For∣tune; the Stations that are at the top of Mankind, as they excell in Dignity, so they exceed in Harms, and Difficulty, and Trouble; and those that are at the very bottom, tormented with Poverty, and anxious uncertainties of Subsistence, are equally to be declined. Here is too much Business, or too much Suffering, for any Man of sound Wisdom to wish, none but sickly Palates will be fond of either. Otanes, one of the seven, who had a joynt Right to the Principality of Persia, quitted his Pretensi∣ons to the rest of the Competitors, provided that he and all his Family might live quietly under that Government, and be free from all Subjection, except such as the old standing Laws obliged them to. This was truly great, neither to affect to command, nor bear to be commanded; and other instances of contemning Honour and Greatness, we have several in Story; for even Dioclesian divested him∣self of the Empire, and Celestine quitted the Papacy; so lit∣tle have the Charms of Sovereignty it self been sound up∣on Tryal, and so far from impracticable is the utmost pitch of the Virtue opposite to Ambition.
[unspec 1] THough the government of the Tongue do not usually come under this head of Temperance, yet all People, I suppose, will allow, that there is not any instance, in which Moderation is more useful and necessary; and that this is so essential a part of Wisdom, that no Treatise upon this Subject can be tolerably complete without it. He that offendeth not in word, the same is a perfect Man, (says St. James,) and the Reason is evidently what he gives there at large, that the Tongue is all in all: Good and Evil pro∣ceed from it; Life and Death depend upon it.* 1.14 Which be∣ing formerly illustrated at large, all that lies upon me to do more at present, is only to lay down some short and plain Directions, for our Conduct and good management of so very important a Member.
[unspec 2] Let our Discourse then be sober and sparing, the know∣ing how and when to be silent is a mighty advantage, and contributes exceedingly to our knowing how to speak; for he that is unskilfull in one of these Points, can never be expert in the other. To talk much and to talk well are Qualities that seldom or never go together; and therefore one of the Philosophers made it his Observation, that the most accomplished Men, are generally they that say least. Those that abound in words, are commonly barren both in good Sense, and good Actions; like Trees, which when they shoot in great quantities of Leaves, bear little Fruit; or lean Corn that runs all into Straw. The Lacedaemonians, (of whom we have made so frequent mention, for their noble improvements in Virtue and Valour,) were no less memorable for Silence, and made this one part of their so∣lemn Profession, to Educate their Youth in a modest and reserved way of Conversation. So justly, so generally is this sort of Restraint approved and commended; so necessary, so prudent, that Prayer of the Psalmist, that God would enable him by his Grace, to set a Watch before his mouth, and keep the door of his lips. An Emblem of this we have in the Mosaical Institution; where, among many Typical repre∣sentations of Moral Duties this seems to be one; That every Vessel was unclean, which had not a Cover fastened to it:
And the wisest Author that ever wrote, hath left us this Mark to distinguish Men by, The Heart of Fools is in their mouth, but the Tongue of the Wise is in their Heart.
[unspec 3] A second Qualification absolutely necessary upon this oc∣casion, is Truth; without this the end of Speech is utterly perverted and lost. For Speech was principally designed to be assisting to Truth, in bringing others to the knowledge of it, by representing every thing in its native and proper Colours; and discovering the mysteries of Errour and Deceit; that being thus detected, they may no longer have it in their power to mis-lead our Judgments. For what indeed is Speech, but a Key to our Thoughts? An instrument of com∣municating what we feel, and see, and desire, and so of transfusing our whole Hearts into the bosoms of them with whom we converse? Now this makes it obvious to every considering Man; that Fidelity and exact Truth ought to be an inseparable attendant upon every Word we utter; for there is no other method of conveying our Intelligence; no other Glass in which we can see one another's Souls; and therefore it is as much as all the benefits of Conversation, and Commerce, and this noble Prerogative of Mankind is worth, to take care, that the Mirrour cast no false Refle∣ctions. He that falsifies in his Discourse, ought to be treated as a common Enemy; detested as a Traytor to publick So∣ciety; For if when once this Footing fails us, we have no fresh ground to stand upon, all Faith and Security is given up, and we know not where to have Men, nor what to make of them. How vile the Sin of Lying is, hath been declared before.* 1.15 They who practice it out of design, are of all wretches the most profligate and despicable; and they who do it in Raillery, should consider how insolent a thing it is to banter and abuse the Credulity of Mankind; and that Truth and mutual Faith are things much too serious and too weighty to be made a Diversion, and sacrificed to the itch of an unmannerly Jest.
[unspec 4] Thirdly, Our Expressions should be Natural and Modest and Chast; provoking no blushes, offensive to none, even the most nice and purged Ears; our Discourse free from Vehemence and Contention; for in such cases Men seem to be more concerned for themselves than for the Truth; and to speak, not so much the reason of the thing, as their own Passions. Speech was designed for a mutual Comfort and Improvement; to inform and mend Men's Minds, not to corrupt and seduce them, And therefore, as Artifice and Af∣fectation
is nauseous, so Indecency and Lewdness, and every thing that tends to Obscenity or Licentiousness, is wicked and abominable.
[unspec 5] Fourthly, Our Discourse should be serious and significant, profitable and advantageous; not trifling, and impertinent and vain. The little Tattle of the Town, what is done at the Court, or the Park, or the Play-House; how People were dressed, and how they behaved themselves; repeating idle Verses, scraps of Plays, and little foolish Jests, and tel∣ling frivolous Stories; though they make up so very consi∣derable a part of modish Conversation, are yet, (to speak freely,) signs of a great poverty of Thought, and have more of the Buffoon, than of the Man in them. He that provides no better Entertainment for his Company, than all this amounts to, is at a very low Ebb; and shews, that he hath spent a great deal of time to very small purpose. How very little hath a Man to do, that employs himself at this rate: And what precious account does all that leisure turn to, which hath been laid out upon qualifying himself for so noble and accomplisht a way of Discourse? Under this head of Trifling and Impertinence, I think we may very well reckon that Folly of entertaining Company with long ac∣counts of our Selves, and our own Affairs; what Feats we have done, or what Calamities we have suffered; for of what consequence soever these things may be to us, they are of none at all to the Persons we tell them to; except it be to give them a taste of our Folly, and from a dislike of our Conversation, to avoid the same absurdity in their own. We fancy, because these Accidents are pleasing to us, that they are so to them; but alas! the difference of Persons should be considered; for to render the Story agreeable to tell, there needs no other Recommendation, than that our selves are at the bottom of it; but then the very same rea∣son renders it as nauseous to the Hearer, not only because he finds no Concern of his own there, but from that natural Aversion and Disdain we bear to Men, who are always big and full of themselves, and have the vanity to suppose, that whatever relates to them is worthy to be the Concern of all they converse with.
But especially, we should be careful not to transgress this Rule of profiting others, by running into the contrary ex∣treme of Injurious or Offensive Language; For Speech is in the very original intention of it, an Instrument, and Har∣binger, a Reconciler, and Uniter of Mankind, and there∣fore,
to apply it to any purposes contrary to these, is to abuse, and pervert the nature and design of it. This Con∣sideration was never more necessary than now; and, if ap∣plied to the modern way of Conversation, would soon con∣vince us, how vainly those Persons pretend to Wit, and Sense, and Honour, whose whole Discourse consists of Slan∣der, Detraction, Mockery or Reproach, sacrificing the re∣putations of the absent to an ill-natured Jest; or exposing and ridiculing their Defects, by Mimickry, and Buffoonery; all which are infinitely unbecoming the Character such Men aspire after, and a Diversion too base and barbarous for any Wise or Good Man to allow himself in.
[unspec 6] Our Discourse should be Easie and Pleasant, Courteous and Entertaining; not Rough and Harsh, Difficult and Troublesome. For this reason it will require some prudence in the Choice, or the declining of our Subject. We should contrive, as much as possibly we can, to start nothing but what will keep our Company in good humour; never to en∣gage in Controversies, where any that are present shall find themselves concerned; for this either disobliges, if they think fit to let the Argument fall; or else it draws them into Disputes, and occasions Warmth, and Uneasiness; and per∣haps Coldness, and angry Resentments afterwards. But, though there should be no personal Interest in the case, yet nothing of Controversie in general should be industriously begun; for common Discourse is not the proper season for that. If the Question be Substantial and of great Concern∣ment, the respect of a private Conference is due to it; but if it be some nice and subtle point, it is not worth so much as our common Talk. Such Questions have been aptly enough compared to Crabfish, of which some are all Shell, and when we have taken great pains to open, and prepare them for our Palates, nine parts of ten must be thrown away, and a very poor pittance remains fit for Eating. Their diffi∣cult and abstruse Speculations raise a Noise and a Dust, but when we examine what account they turn to, little comes of them, but Heat, and Calmour, and Contra∣diction.
[unspec 7] Our Expressions should be strong and clear, our Argu∣ments sinewy and full; not loose, and flat, and languishing; and therefore we should observe and avoid the formality of Pedants, the stiff-set way of Pleaders, and the impertinent Affectation of the Ladies.
[unspec 8] This particular sort of Temperance extends likewise to one very necessary Virtue, which I think may not unfitly be called the Continence of the Tongue: That I mean, of keeping Secrets; which, though already spoken to in the Chapter concerning Fidelity,* 1.16 I thought not improper to make another mention of here. And the rather, because I take Secrets here in a more large and comprehensive Sense; so that the Virtue at present prescribed, does not only oblige us not to disclose those things, which were committed to our Trust, under the Seal of Secresie; but also to suppress, whatever in Prudence and our own Discretion, appears unfit to be divulged. All that is dangerous, or of ill conse∣quence; all that can any way reflect upon our own, or be injurious to another's Reputation. In a word, so strict a Guard, so steady a Conduct in all our Conversation, that our Tongue may not out-run our Judgment; and that nei∣ther our own Consciences, or those we keep Company with, upon the severest and most impartial Recollection, have cause to accuse us, of saying any thing which was not fit to be said. This is of greater Importance, and needs to be more diligently attended to, than People seem generally well aware of; and yet it is no more, than every Man's own Reflections upon the indecent Gayeties, and unthinking Freedoms, in Conversation, and the many ill Effects and hard Censures these produce, may soon convince him of: And satisfie him, not only of the Beauty and Comeliness, but of the safety and great advantage there is, in a modest and cautious reserve. While the word is kept in, it is en∣tirely our own; but if it once break loose from us, it can never be retrieved; we have lost all our Property and Juris∣diction, and must stand to the courtesie of the World; who will make what use they please of it, and very seldom are just or good-natured enough, to make the right use, or to understand it as innocently as we intended it.
[unspec 9] Now as the advantage of Speech in general is an Excel∣lence peculiar to Mankind, and sets us above Brutes; so Eloquence exalts those that are Masters and Professors of it, above the rate of common Men. For this is the Art, or Science of speaking, a more accurate and exquisite way of Communicating our Thoughts; of enforcing and adorning Reason: This is the Rudder of the Soul that steers and turns Men, and sets us at the Helm of our Audience, to carry them whither we please: It falls in with the Heart, and secretly moves our Passions, like the Chords in Musick,
which, in a skilful Composition, conspire together to make a more perfect, and delightful Harmony.
[unspec 10] By Eloquence I mean, all that is necessary to make an accomplished Orator. For this does consist, not only in per∣spicuity, and purity of Expression, the Elegance and Pro∣priety of the Words, the happy Choice and regular Dispo∣sition, the fulness and roundness of the Period, and the just∣ness of a sweet and musical Cadence; but it must also be assisted and strengthned by other Ornaments and Graces, and Motions of the Person himself: Every Word should be inspired with Life and Vigour; first, by a clear and sweet Voice, a proper and distinct Pronunciation, rising and falling, gently and easily, as is best accommodated to the matter and design: Then by a grave and unaffected Action, where the Countenance, the Hands, the whole Body, the every part and gesture speak as well as the Mouth, all follow them ove∣ments of the Soul, and give a lively Image of the Affecti∣ons within. For the Orator is the Representative of his Audience, and must first of all in his own Person put on the several Passions, which he labours to infuse into others.
* 1.17We weep and laugh as we see others do: He only makes me sad, who shews the way, And first is sad himself; then (Telephus) I feel the weight of your Calamities, And fancy all your Miseries my own. Ld. Roscom.
It is in such cases with the Standers by, as it was with Brasidas and his Enemy, who drew the Dart out of his own Wound, with which he stabbed him to the Heart. Thus Passion is first conceived and formed in our own Mind, then born and brought into the World by apposite Expression, and afterwards, by a subtle and quick Contagion, conveyed into others, and begets its likeness there. By this short Re∣flection it sufficiently appears, that Men of soft and gentle Tempers, are not cut out for Orators. Their Spirits are too sedate and sluggish to communicate any powerful Impres∣sions. They want the Force, and Fire, the Sprightliness and Activity, that is necessary to animate what they say. And when such Persons would display the most masterly
beauties of Eloquence, they languish and faulter by the way, and drop short of the Mark. Thus Cicero reproached Calli∣dius, who accused Gallus with a sneaking Voice and lan∣guishing Action, by telling him, that his Coldness and In∣differency betrayed the falseness of his Charge. But when a Man hath all that Vigour and Ornament touched upon be∣fore, his Words will be as strong and compulsive as the Commands of a Tyrant, with all the Pomp and Terrour of his Guards about him. They will commit an irresistible Violence upon the Soul; not only perswade and draw, but drag his Auditory whether they will or no, lead them in Triumph, and establish to themselves an Absolute and Arbi∣trary Dominion over the Minds of Men.
[unspec 11] It may perhaps be objected in prejudice of Eloquence, that all this Skill is needless; since Truth alone is sufficient∣ly powerful and perswasive, and stands in need of no studied and artificial Practices, to vindicate, or to recommend it. And indeed, were the Minds of Men free, and pure, un∣prepossest with Passion, or Interest, or any other prejudicate Opinion, the Objection must be allowed to have a great deal of weight in it. But we are to consider and deal with Men, according to the state we find them in; a state of Cor∣ruption and Prejudice, in which Art, or Nature, Misinfor∣mation, or ill Habits have bribed and byassed their Affecti∣ons, and made them draw the wrong way, and bent them violently against the Truth. And thus they come to require a sort of Treatment, very different from that, which is most agreeable to their original Constitution. As therefore we are forced, first of all to soften and open the pores of the Steel by Fire, that it may afterwards receive that Liquor which tempers it, and grow harder in the Water: so the warmths of Eloquence are necessary to put the Spirits in motion, and by rendring the Minds of Men more supple and pliable, to give them a stronger and more lasting tincture of Truth. This is the true and proper design of Eloquence; and the end it should constantly aim at, is, to fortifie and protect Virtue against Vice, Truth against Falshood, and Innocence against Calumny and false Accusation. The Orator (says Theophrastus) is the true Physician of Souls, and his business must be to Cure the Venomous Bitings of Serpents, by the Charms of his Musick; that is, The poysonous Slanders, and false Insinuations of wicked Men, by the harmony of Reason, set out to the best advantage. But since there is no possibility of cutting off ill Men from the use of this ad∣vantage
too, since they will be sure to seize and usurp the Weapon, for the more effectual Execution of their mischie∣vous Designs; we are the more concerned not to go into the Field Naked, but to beat them at their own Weapon, and with equal Industry and Skill to Counter-work them; that so Virtue and Truth may not be circumvented, or tamely lost, for want of proper Preparations to defend it. Several indeed have abused their attainments of this kind to very villainous purposes, and made Eloquence the instrument of Ruin and Oppression to private Persons, and whole Commu∣nities of Men. This is a melancholy Truth; too manifest to be denied. But then the Consequence of grancing it must be, not to despise or set aside the thing, upon the account of any ill Effects, that have followed upon the misemployment of it. No, This is a Misfortune common to every thing, that is useful and excellent; for none of these are so necessarily confined to Goodness, but that they are capable of being perverted to very great Evil. Nature hath provided them with an Aptitude and Efficacy; but it will depend upon the Disposition of the Person that manages those Powers, what sort of Effects those natural Abilities shall be applied and de∣termined to. For even that Reason and Understanding, which is the peculiar Prerogative of Humane Nature, and sets us above Brutes, is most miserably abused; turned against God and our selves, and made the occasion of our more inexcusable Ruin; but this is only an accidental Mis∣fortune, far from the natural tendency of so noble a Privi∣lege. And he, who would argue from hence that Mankind had better want these Faculties, may justly seem to have de∣generated into Brute, and to be forsaken of all that Rea∣son, which he so wildly and so rashly condemns.
Voluptatibus imperat, alias odit & abigit, alias dispensat, & ad sanum modum redigit; nec unquam ad illas propter illas ve∣nit; scit optimum esse modum cupitorum, non quantum velis, sed quantam debeas.
Simplici curâ constant necessaria, in delicijs laboratur. Ad parata nati sumus: nos omnia nobis difficilia faciliam fastidio facimus.
Non est tuum fortuna quod fecit tuum. Qui tutam vitam agere volet ista viscata beneficia devitet, nil dignum putare quod speres. Quid dignum habet Fortuua, quod concupiscas?
Eden.
In praecipiti est, ad dolorem vergit, in contrarium abit, nisi modum teneat: Extrema gaudli luctus occupat.
Simplex ex simplici causà valetudo; multos morbos, sup∣plicia Luxuriae, multa fercula fecerunt.
Desine fundere, & ego desinam fluere.
Sera in sundo parsimonia.
Nîdus Luxuriae.
Jam. 4.7.
2 Tim. 11.22.
Prov. 5.15.
Book I. Chap. 23.
Chap. 10.
Chap. 8.
—Si vis me flere, dolendum est— Primum ipsi tibi: tunc tua me infortunia laedent, Telephe.—Hor. de Arte Poet.••