Three discourses of happiness, virtue, and liberty collected from the works of the learn'd Gassendi, by Monsieur Bernier ; translated out of French.

CHAP V. That a Wise Man is only capable of enjoying Moral Vertue.

WE have hitherto treated of Pleasure, as it is ge∣nerally understood: We shall now speak of that particular specifick Pleasure unto which a Wise Man confines himself, as being in its own Nature not only very easie to be obtain'd, but also most lasting and free from Repentance. In a word, that Plea∣sure that we before called the Tranquility of the Mind, and the exemption of the Body from Pain, now we have great Reason to call it most Natural; for at this sort of Pleasure Nature seems chiefly to aim, as not having regard to other Pleasures, which are always shifting and in a constant Motion, any otherwise than to make them useful in the obtain∣ing this; as for Instance; It hath appointed the Pleasure of Tasting, to make the action of Eating more grateful, and by that means to oblige us to the Act, whereby to satisfie our Hunger, which is that pain we feel, and caused by the cravings of an empty Stomach. But in reference to the satis∣faction and tranquility of Mind which we enjoy when Hunger is appeas'd. This Nature hath re∣serv'd as her last End, and designed it as her chief Good: We have great reason to say, that it is ve∣ry easie to be obtain'd, because it is in every one's Power to moderate his Desires, by supplying him∣self with things necessary for his Body, whereby to free it from Pain, and thereby render his Mind calm and easy. I say, That it is very lasting, be∣cause other Pleasures pass away in a Moment, and

free from us, whereas this continues the same, un∣less it be interrupted and perish by our own Mis∣carriages. Lastly, I describe it to be very free from Repentance; for all other Pleasures may be attend∣ed by some Evil, whereas, this is altogether inno∣cent, and draws upon us no such Mischief.

I know that Cicero at first quarrels very much with Epicurus, because he gives the Term of Plea∣sure, to this Tranquility and freedom from Pain, which he pretends to be proper to nothing but that which consists in Motion, or to those things which please the Senses. But methinks Cicero should not dif∣fer with him about a bare Word; for suppose accord∣ing to common Custom, we did not call this Tran∣quility of Mind and freedom from Bodily Pain, Plea∣sure, Why should we hinder Epicurus the giving it that Name, and esteeming it so great a Pleasure, that among all others that bear that name, none is to be compared with it? This hath been, and al∣ways will be allowed in cases of Opinion, especi∣ally here, where Pleasure and that which is Good and Desirable, are the same thing. Therefore this State or Condition of Life, which of all other seems most desirable, may be very well esteem'd and cal∣led Pleasure. Besides, we may not only bring Ari∣stotle here to controll him in express words, That there is a greater Pleasure in Repose, than in Action; but also St. Chrysostom, who thus expresseth himself, For what is Pleasure, but to be free from Inquietude, Trouble, Fear, and Despair, and generally to be exempt from such kind of Passions? Pray, which of these two may be said truly to enjoy Pleasure, He who is fu∣riously distracted by Passions, and so continually overcome with vicious Lusts, that he hath no com∣mand of himself; or He who is free from all these Disturbances, and rests in Philosophy as a quiet Ha∣ven? I may truly call that Pleasure, when the Soul

is in such a State, that it is in no wise disquieted nor disturbed by any bodily Passion. That which Cicero objects concerning Children and Brutes, which are as the Looking-glasses of uncorrupted Nature, and yet desire not that Pleasure which is in Rest, of which we have been speaking, but only that which is in Motion, seems to make most against us. But let his Judgment of the Brutes, and the Nature of Animals, be what it will, tho' they came into the World uncorrupted, and are well instructed for the obtaining their End, after they have satisfied their Pain, which is caused by some Want, naturally they tend to Rest; contrary to several Men, who being corrupted in their Imagi∣nation, constantly cut out and make to themselves Work, by provoking the Appetite; and never stop at any thing. Whatever be the case of the Beasts, we shall speak only of Men, of whom it is certain, whatever is Objected, is easily Answer'd, by what we have already mentioned. For in the first Place, Nature hath appointed a fix'd Pleasure for the chief End. And tho' Action be design'd as a necessary Means to obtain it, it makes use of the Pleasure which is in Motion, that the Action might pass with more Delight and Satisfaction. From whence it happens, That tho' Man, or any other Creature, seems to be more apparently and ex∣presly stir'd up and inclin'd to active Pleasure, nevertheless, this hinders not, but at the same time he really and secretly tends to that which is stable, and that by the Instinct or Bent of Nature, who looks upon it as her chief Aim and principal End. Besides, because Man's Understanding in process of time is corrupted, vitiated, apt to make divers gross Mistakes, and as we commonly say, 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉, to make that Principal, which is but Ac∣cessory, he sets up a fleeting moving Pleasure for his

principal Mark, and by abusing this Pleasure by his Intemperance, he draws upon himself a Mischief, when he loseth that Pleasure which is more fix'd and solid, and which Nature hath made the First and Principal; and this is succeeded by Sorrow and Repentance. For this cause it is, that Epicurus adviseth, That Wisdom should interpose, which teach∣eth Man to govern his Pleasure; that is to say, to consider and look upon the Assistant as Assistant, and the Principal, as Principal.

In the mean while, we need not concern our selves much about what the Cyrenaicks Object in Cicero; That this Pleasure of Epicurus, is like the con∣dition of a sleeping Person: For he hath declared, That his Tranquility and freedom from Pain, is not to be Stupified, but to be in such a State, that all the actions of our Life might be done calmly and sedately, as we have already said. As he allows not that the Life of a Wise Man should be as a Tor∣rent, so he don't approve that it should be like a still and stinking Pool, but rather like the Water of a River, that glides along quietly and without Noise. This is one of his Maxims; That when Pain is removed, Pleasure is not increas'd, but only diversi∣fied and altered. As if he would have said, That when we have attain'd to this quiet State, free from Pain, there is truly nothing to be desired greater, or to be compared to it; but in the mean while, there remain several pure and innocent Pleasures, wherewith this State, if not abused, is Embelished in the manner of a Field, which becoming Fruitful, affords divers Fruits; or in the manner of a Mea∣dow, which we see covered over with an admira∣ble diversity of Flowers, when the Earth is brought to be in a good Temper: For this State is like a Spring, out of which all the Pleasures that are Pure and Sincere, are drawn. For this cause therefore,

it ought to be esteem'd as the chief Pleasure, in re∣gard it is an universal Relish, by which all the Actions of our Life are seasoned, and by which con∣sequently all our Pleasures are sweetned, and become grateful. And to speak all in a Word, Without which, no Pleasure can be Pleasure.

In reality, What Satisfaction can there be, if the Mind be troubled or the Body tormented with Pain? It is a Proverb, That if the Vessel be not clean, it Sowers whatever is put into it.

Sincerum est nisi vas, quodcum{que} infundis acescit.

Whoever therefore is desirous of pure sincere Pleasures, he must prepare himself to receive them without any Mixture or Alloy; that is, By attain∣ing as much as is possible to this State of Rest and Tranquility that we have described. I add the words as much as is possible; for, As we have ob∣served already, The frailty of our human Nature, wont suffer us to be absolutely and perfectly Happy; for so compleat a Felicity, altogether free from Trouble and Pain, and crowned with all manner of Delights, belongs to God alone, and to them whom he calls to a better Life. So that in this present World, some have a greater, some a less share of Afflictions and Pains. He that will deal wisely, ought to endeavour as much as the weakness of his Nature will permit, to settle himself in that condi∣tion in which he may be as little sensible of Grief and Pain as is possible; for by this means he will obtain these two Advantages, which chiefly contri∣bute to his present Happiness, and which Wise Men have acknowledged, to be almost the only solid and desirable Advantages of Life, The Health of the Body and of the Mind.

Sunt Sanitas & Mens gemina vitae bona. Optandum est ut sit Mens sana in Corpore sano.

And that Epicurus never designed that his Plea∣sure should extend to a Sottishness, or a privation of Sense and Action, may be proved by what he was pleased with in his Retirements, either in Me∣ditating, or in Teaching, or in taking care of his Friends. But let it suffice us here to say, That from that state and condition of Life, did arise cer∣tain Thoughts, which of all things in the World, were the most pleasing and delightful: Namely, when any shall call to mind the Storms that he hath couragiously weather'd, in which some are yet tos∣sed up and down; he fancies himself as it were in a safe Haven, possessing a calm and a serene Tran∣quility; which Lucretius in his Second Book plea∣santly sets forth.

'Tis pleasant when the Seas are rough, to stand And view another's Danger safe at Land; Not 'cause he's Troubled, but 'tis sweet to see Those Cares and Fears, from which our selves are free.

He tells us also, That it is very pleasant to look from a high Tower upon two great Armies drawn up in Battel, without being concerned in the Dan∣ger.

'Tis also Pleasant to behold from far How Troops Engage, secure our selves from War.

But there is nothing so pleasant, as to see our selves by the help of Learning and Knowledge, ad∣vanc'd to the Top of Wisdom's Temple, from whence, as from an high Station, serene and quiet,

we may see Men involved in a thousand Miseries, without being concern'd.

But above all, 'Tis pleasantest to get The top of high Philosophy, and sit On the calm peaceful flourishing Head of it: Whence we may view, deep, wond'rous deep below, How poor forsaken Mortals Wandring go, Seeking the path to Happiness; some aim At Learning, Wit, Nobility, or Fame. Others with Cares and Dangers vex each Hour, To reach the Top of Wealth and Sovereign Power; Whilst frugal Nature seeks for only Ease, A Body free from Pains, free from Disease, A Mind from Cares and Jealousies at Peace.

Of the Tranquility of the Mind in particular.

BUt to say something more particularly of the Tranquility of the Mind; let us again repeat, That by this Expression, we don't understand a slow and lazy Temper, nor a sluggish and languish∣ing Idleness. But as Cicero Explains it out of Py∣thagoras and Plato; Placida quieta{que} constantia in ani∣mi parte rationis principe: A sweet and peaceable Constacy of Mind. Or as Democritus says; An ex∣cellent equal and sweet Constitution and Temper of Mind; which makes the Man settl'd and unshaken in such a manner, and to such a degree, that whe∣ther he be Employed or at Leisure; whether Pro∣sperity favour him, or Adversity frowns upon him, he continues always Equal, always like Himself, and will not suffer himself to be Transported by an excess of Joy, nor dejected by Grief and Sorrow. In a Word, he is at no time disturbed by such-like Passions: Therefore this Tranquility of Mind was

called 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉, which signifies freedom from Trouble and Disquietness, for in the same manner as a Ship is said to be in quiet not only when it is becalm'd in the middle of the Sea, but likewise chiefly when it is dri∣ven by a favourable Gale, which indeed causeth it to sail swift, but nevertheless quietly and steddily: Thus the Mind is said to be in Tranquility, not only when it is at rest, but more especially when it undertakes great and excellent Things without being disturb'd inwardly, and without losing any part of its Steddi∣ness. On the contrary, as a Ship is said to be disturb'd not only when it is carried away with the contrary Winds, but when it is beaten by those that rise out of the very Waters; thus the Mind is said to be disquieted, not only when in its proceedings it is carried away with divers Passions, but likewise when in the midst of Rest, Care Grief and Fear are con∣tinually gnawing and fretting it, and rendring it uneasy. These therefore, and such like, are the Passions which by disturbing our Tranquility, in∣terrupt the Happiness of our Lives. Cicero Speaks of them in this manner, The turbulent Motions and the Disquietness of the Mind, which proceed from an unconsiderate rashness, and oppose all Reason, leave no room for an happy Life; For how can it possibly be but that he who always stands in fear of Death or Pain, the one being often at Hand, the other always threatned, must needs be miserable? Thus in the same manner, if he dreads Poverty, Shame or Infamy, if he apprehends Infirmity or Blindness; in a Word, if he fears that which may happen, not only to every Person in particular, but also to the most powerful People, I mean Slavery, Can such a one be happy who is continually fearing such Things? Can he enjoy the least shadow of Happiness? In what unhappy condition is that Mind, that not only dreads Calamities, Banishment, the loss of Goods, the Death of Children, but foreseing and apprehending them

as already present, Dies overwhelmed with Grief and Sorrow? Can we suppose that he who suffers himself to be born down by so many tragical Thoughts and Appre∣hensions, can be any otherwise than unspeakably Mise∣rable? Again, when you see a Man furiously transport∣ed with a violent Passion, coveting every thing with a greedy and immoderate Desire, and still as he arrives to a higher and fuller degree of enjoyment of Pleasure, the more eagerly he hunts after and pursues 'em: Have you not great Reason to judg this Man very Miserable? What think ye likewise of another, who is always fluctu∣ating, and suffers himself to be transported by a foolish and immoderate Joy? Dont such a one appear to you the more Miserable the more he thinks himself Happy? As such therefore are Miserable, these are on the contrary Happy, who are not frighted with Fears, who suffer not themselves to be overcome with Sadness, who are not in∣flamed with Lusts, nor moved by immoderate Joys; and on whom the powerful Charms and Allurements of these soft and effeminate Pleasures have no powerful Influences. Hearken to Torquatus: Epicurus, whom you say, was too much addicted to his Pleasures, declares, That it is impossible to live Pleasantly, if we live not Wisely, Honestly and Justly; and that we cannot live Wisely, Honestly and Justly, but we must of necessity live with Delight: For as the Inhabitants of a City cannot be easy during a Storm, nor a Family when the Masters are at odds, much less can a Soul be happy when it agrees not with it self, or is hurried about by divers contrary Passions. It is not capable of any pure and free Pleasure, and sees nothing but in a hurry and in a confusion. If the Distempers of the Body interrupt the felicity of Life, how much more do the Diseases of the Mind? Now the Diseases of the Mind are the vain and immoderate De∣sires of Riches, Glory, Dominion, and of mean and sor∣did Pleasures. You may add to these, Discontent, Fret∣fulness and Frowardness, which gall and fret the Minds

of Men, who will not consider that we should not afflict our selves for that which causeth no present Pain to the Body, nor it may be never will. You may add Death, which threatens us continually, and hangs always over our Heads, as the Rock did over that of Tantalus: You may add Superstition, which never suffers the Per∣son to be at quiet who is infected with it. Such never think upon the good Things past, they enjoy not the pre∣sent, and when they consider that what they are in ex∣pectation of, is uncertain, Grief and Despair afflict them: But they are exceedingly tormented when they think that they have begun too late to seek after great Offices, Riches and Glory; finding themselves deprived of those Plea∣sures which they had hopes of enjoying, and for which they have undergone so much Pain and Trouble. Others have mean and low Spirits, always in despair of every thing; others Dream of nothing, but how to do Mis∣chief, are Envious, Fretful, Pensive, Slanderers and Angry; others are unconstant and changeable in their Love; others are Hasty, Cowards, Impudent, Intem∣perate, Wavering, never continuing in the same Mind. This is the Cause, that during their Lives, their Pas∣sions are in a continual Warfare without Cessation.

And therefore we cannot but mention the sincere Pleasure and Delight which he must needs enjoy, who being freed from these Passions that tormented him, understands his own happy State, and finds himself, as we have said before, in Rest in a safe Haven, after he has been tost and beaten with the Winds and Waves of the Sea. But we shall have another occasion to speak of this particular Plea∣sure, when we shall treat of the Vertues that are fit to calm the Passions, and by that means to cause a sedate and peceable Temper of Mind: Besides, that Sweetness and Pleasure may easily be understood by that esteem which such a one hath, who longs for it when he finds himself in Trouble or in actual

Disturbance. Like as that Person who is in the midst of a Tempest at Sea, longs for a Calm, and a favourable Gale; or as he that is seized with a violent Distemper, wishes earnestly for Health; for none knows so well how to value these things, as he who looks upon them in a contrary State, and hath the Impressions still remaining: Therefore I shall the rather speak a Word of that which I have already mentioned, That we may the better preserve this Tranquility of Mind, and by that means live Happily, not only when at rest and out of the in∣cumbrance of Business, but also in the midst of the greatest and most important Employments.

Of Life, and of Active Felicity.

AS this supposes that there are two kinds of Life, and likewise two kinds of Felicities, the one in Contemplation, the other in Action, wise Men have still preferred a contemplative before an active Life: However, this does not hinder those whom either their Birth, Genius or necessity of Af∣fairs have ingaged in Business, from being altoge∣ther incapable of enjoying a Tranquility of Mind; for whosoever undertakes this, goes not Blindfold to Work, but after he hath for some time seriously consider'd, and taken a due prospect of the state of human Affairs, not as from the midst of the Crowd, but as from a higher Station; and understands, that in the active course of Life there may happen many Accidents, that all the Wisdom of Man cannot fore∣see; provides, if not against each particular, yet against the general Difficulties that may occur: Such a one is always upon his Guard, ready to take Ad∣vice upon all suddain Emergencies; he knows that he can command what is in himself, but cannot govern what depends not upon his free Will; he

acts according to his Power, and does what becomes the Duty of an honest Man; and afterwards, what∣ever happens, he thinks that he ought to be Con∣tent and Satisfied; he dont flatter himself with the certainty of a happy success of all his Undertakings, but thinks that matters may sometimes happen con∣trary to his Desires and Endeavours, and therefore prepares himself in such a manner, that tho he may experience Adversity, he may nevertheless bear it with Constancy and Patience. Such a one, I say, thus resolved and prepared, if he be ingaged in a busy Life, may govern himself, that in the midst of the hurry and incumbrance of Affairs he may main∣tain in himself an inward repose and calmness of Mind: 'Tis what Claudian so truly relates of Theodo∣sius the Great, and which we, without Flattery, may duly apply to our present Monarch, the true Model of a wise Prince.

— Nec Te tot limina rerum, Aut tantum turbavit onus, sed ut altus Olympi Vertex qui spatio Ventos, Hyemes{que} relinquit Perpetuum nulla temeratus Nube serenum, Celsior exsurgit pluviis, auditque ruentes Sub pedibus nimbos, & rauca tonitrua calcat; Sic patiens Animus per tanta negotia liber Emergit, similisque sui, &c.

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

Servat inoffensam Divina modestia vocem, Temperiem servant oculi, nec lumina fervor Asperat, aut rabidas diffundit sanguine venas. Quinetiam sontes expulsa corrigis ira, Et placidus delicta domas, nec dentibus unquam Instrepis horrendum, fremitu nec verbera poscis.

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

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

Lente fluit Nilus, sed cunctis Amnibus extat Ʋtilior, nullas confessus murmure vires. Acrior at rapidus tacitas praetermeat ingens Danubius ripas: Eadem clementia saevi Gurgitis immensum deducit ad ostia Gangen.

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

Torrentes immane fremant, lapsisque minentur Pontibus, involvant spumoso vortice Sylvas;

Pax majora decet; peragit tranquilla potestas Quod violenta nequit, mandataque fortius urget Imperiosa quies—

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

made them this prudent Answer; My brave Com∣panions, you cannot make me Courageous, and I will not make you Cowards; it is sufficient that every one should understand his own Business.

Whether a Contemplative Happiness is to be preferr'd before an Active.

BUt after all that can be said in Commendation of an Active Felicity; Aristotle had Reason to prefer a Speculative: For Contemplation ex∣erts the most Excellent and Divine Part of our Selves; and besides, this sort of Action is the most noble, innocent, and lasting, and the most easily set on Work. We shall not here repeat what hath been before said upon the first Part of Vertue, to shew wherein the Happiness of a wise Man consists, or the Satisfaction he receives in a Contemplative Life; it will be sufficient to recite what Cicero very learnedly observes: What Pleasures, saith he, don't a thinking Mind enjoy, who is employ'd Night and Day in Contemplation and Study? What extraordinary De∣light is it to observe the Motions and Circumference of the World, the infinite number of Stars that shine in the Heavens; those seven Planets, which being more or less distant the one from the other, according as they are higher or lower, wandering and uncertain in their Motions, and yet never fail to fulfill their Course in their appointed time? The Sight and Consideration of so many excellent Things, persuaded the antient Phi∣losophers to proceed to new Inquiries, to examine into the cause and beginning of the World, from whence all things proceed, from whence they are engender'd, what differing Qualities are crept into their Composition, from whence Life and Death happen, how the Alterations and Changes of one

thing into another came to pass, by what weight the Earth is supported, and how ballanc'd, into what Concavities the Waters are confin'd, and how every thing press'd by its own weight, naturally tends to its own Center. Thus by discerning and continually meditating on these wonderful Things, we at last arrive to that Knowledge which God heretofore recommended to Delphos, namely, That the pure Soul having shaken off all Vice, should know it self, and find it self united to the Divine Understanding or Being. This procures it an ever∣lasting and unspeakable Delight; for the Contem∣plations upon the Power and Nature of the Gods, cause it to have a strong Inclination for Eternity; and when it once perceives the necessary Conse∣quence of Causes guided and govern'd by an eter∣nal Wisdom, it believes not it self confin'd to the narrow Limits of this Life: Therefore it considers human Affairs with a wonderful Tranquility, it in∣clines to the Practice of Vertue, it inquires where∣in consists the chief Good, and the chief Evil, whither all our Actions ought to tend, and what is the Rule of Life we ought to steer by.

Moreover, he who shall have consider'd the strong Revolutions of Things since the beginning of the World, the Rise, Progress, Consistency, De∣clension and Over-throw of Kingdoms, Common-wealths, Religions, Opinions, Laws, Customs, Manners, and the present Ways and Methods of Living, now in Vogue, which our Fore-fathers would have rejected, such as our Ancestors seri∣ously followed, and which we now laugh at, and such possibly as will hereafter please our Posterity, yet could we but at present see them, we should laugh at and deride: These Fashions and Customs tho' they change in some particular things, may in gene∣ral be said to be the same, and are only a Sign of the

Frailty, Lightness, and Inconstancy of Mankind. And thus it always happens, that Men by their Lightness live continually miserable, being carried away by Ambition or Covetousness, or some o∣ther Passion: They don't see how much it is their Concern to free themselves from such Cares, to be content with little, to live within themselves, and to spend their Life peaceably, without so much noise. He, I say, who shall have employ'd his Mind in such Contemplations, will, doubtless, feel extraordinary Delight, and will be very happy in his Thoughts, especially if he considers all things as from that high and sacred Tower, from whence, as we said, Vertue looks down upon the several Actions and Affairs of Men, their Ambition, their Pride, their Vanity, their sordid Covetousness, and the rest before hinted.

Of Freedom from Pain in particular.

NOw to speak something concerning Freedom from Pain: It seems not so much in our Power to free our selves from Pain in our Bodies, as to ease our selves of Troubles in our Minds; for tho' it is difficult to stop the Passions in their full Career, and check their exorbitant Motions, yet if we except such as have a Conjunction with Pain, such as are, particularly, Hunger and Thirst, which create a desire of Eating and Drinking, it seems in respect of the others, as they arise in us from Opinion; so they may, (if we keep our selves from the Influence of that Opinion,) be check'd and curb'd. But in relation to the Pains of the Body, tho' we may take care not to draw them upon our selves outwardly, nor stir them up inwardly; yet it often happens that the Temper which we derive

from our Mother's Womb is such, that upon that very account we are liable to many Pains during the course of our Lives. 'Tis not without Reason therefore, that Esop feigned, that when Prometheus was to temper the Clay, with which he was to make Man, made use of no Water but of Tears; for by that he had a design to teach us that the Nature of our Bodies is such, that it is partly sub∣ject to outward, and partly to inward Mischiefs; and seeing it is impossible but some will often be∣fal us, of necessity we must suffer some Pain. I should be endless to enumerate the Particulars of this kind, that may befal us, either from Tyrants, from Fools, from all sorts of Animals, from Heat, from Cold, from Fevers, Gout, Defluctions, &c. I shall only observe, that such who have been some∣times tormented with them, may tell with what earnestness they wished to be freed, and how much they would have given to be delivered. Certainly there is no Person that labours under an acute Di∣stemper, and is grievously tormented with Pain, but when he considers such as are in Health, e∣steems them very happy, and wonders that they don't acknowledge the greatness of the Advantage they enjoy, it being so considerable, that no world∣ly Enjoyments can stand in competition with, or be accounted a valuable Exchange for Health. Where∣fore in all Ages, Men have highly extoll'd it. But as every Book is full of its own Praises, I shall only take notice what an antient Poet saith, That the greatest Benefit that can befall frail Man, is to enjoy Health.

Fragili viro optima res bene valere.

And as another says, Nothing can be more advan∣tageous to us, than to be free from Pain and Disea∣ses.

Si ventri bene est, si lateri est, pedibusque tuis, nil Divitiae poterunt Regales addere majus.

Now what I have here observ'd is to prove, that it is not without ground what I have asserted, That to be free from Sickness or bodily Pain, is part of our Happiness. Truly, tho' light Pains and such as are of a short continuance may be easi∣ly supported; and tho' we willingly undergo great ones, when they are in order either to avoid greater Evils, or for the obtaining of greater Pleasures; yet there is no Man so fond of Pain for Pain's sake, but would willingly be quit of it, if it were not in order to the obtaining something better, which could not be acquir'd without it.

Men commonly extol Zenon and Anaxarcas, for the constancy they express'd against the Tyrants in their greatest Tortures: And Calanus also and Peregrinus are much celebrated for freely offering themselves to the Flames. But supposing it had been in their Power to have purchased as much Glory by any other Means, I refer it to your self, whether they would have made this Choice. Ci∣cero likewise very much extolleth Possidonius, for that being grievously tormented with the Gout, when Pompey visited him at Rhodes, he told him, That he was very sorry that he could not hear him; to which Possidonius answer'd, You may if you please, and I will not suffer so great a Person to come to me in vain. He tells us that he began to dis∣course to him excellently, viz. That there is nothing Good, but that which is honest. And when his Pains

assaulted him often during the Interview, he as of∣ten said, Thou wilt never prevail upon me, O Pain, tho' never so grievous, to make me confess thee to be an Evil. But tho' Possidonius patiently endured the Pains that he could not avoid; yet you can't but imagine that he would rather have been free from 'em, and been able to discourse without 'em.

We may here add, That if, as we have already said, Pain is the chief Evil; it necessarily fol∣lows, that a freedom from Pain should be the chief Good; and the rather, because Nature seems to have bestowed upon us an inclination for nothing else, but for this freedom: For when any Pain happens to us, whether by Hunger, or by any other Desire, we are naturally carried to that Action, by which we may remove that Pain; and if any Pleasure intervenes, we have observed that Na∣ture adds it as an Encouragement to the Action needful to obtain that freedom from Pain: And probably we may consequently add, by what Means we may obtain so great an Advantage. But, besides the divers Remedies which may be taken from the convenient Precautions, and from the Medicinal Art, which relate not to Moral Phi∣losophy, we may say, That the most general and easie Means to procure this freedom from Pain, is Temperance and an exquisite Sobriety: For by this Means we may, if not altogether remove, at least very much correct the hereditary Diseases, avoid such as we contract by our own Miscarriages, and free our selves from such as are already contract∣ed. Let us observe only, That he who enjoys a freedom from Pain, may without any bitterness possess the different kinds of Pleasures, as well those of the Body, as of the Mind and Health. As Plutarch very well compares Health to the Tran∣quility of the Sea, in regard the Sea gives an Op∣portunity

to its Inhabitants to breed, and conveni∣ently to bring up their young; so Health affords to all Men a Means to perform all the Functions of Life conveniently, and without Pain. Therefore, saith he, tho' Prodicus maintains, and hath elegantly de∣scrib'd, That Fire is the greatest Seasoning of our Life: Nevertheless, some may correct his Fancy, and inlarge upon it by saying, That Health gives a supernatural Relish, seeing that neither boiled nor rost nor any other Meat, whatever Haut Goust they have, can give any Relish to such as are sick, or to such whom some distemper hath put out of order; where∣as in a healthful Constitution, every Morsel is plea∣sant and grateful to the Appetite. Now the same may be said of the Pleasures, that relate to the other Senses; for to a sick Body, the Delights which otherwise are lawful and honest, displease; the Smelling is not refresh'd with Sweet Odours, the Ear cares not for Musick, nor does the Sight rejoyce in beautiful Objects. Nay, our Enter∣tainments, Publick Shews, our Recreations in Walking, Hunting, and other such like Diver∣tisements cannot please, and are of no service for want of this Seasoning; and without which, Plea∣sure it self, as we have said, is no Pleasure: As all this is most certain, in regard of these Pleasures of the Body, it is doubtless much more in respect of that of the Mind; for it is apparent, that neither in Sickness, or under any grievous Pain, no Man can study, read or meditate; for while the Soul is united to this crasy and mortal Body, there is such a Union between these two Parties, that the Body cannot suffer, but the Soul must feel it, and be drawn, tho' against its will, from its most plea∣sing Objects; for the afflicting Pain employs all the Thoughts and Attention of the Mind.

Happy therefore are they who by their natural Constitution enjoy a sound Health, free from Pain, and consequently more capable in taking Pleasure in the study of Wisdom. Happy are likewise such, who tho they have an infirm Body, yet govern it with so much Prudence, and correct it with that Temperance, that if they dont altogether avoid all Pain, yet they make it so light and easy to be born, that it proves a small Impediment to the full enjoy∣ment of the Pleasures of the Mind. Therefore the First ought to take heed, how they disturb or by their Intemperance weaken the sound Constitution of their Bodies, and the other ought to amend theirs, and to bring it as much as is possible to this State of Indolency. And both of 'em, should take care of their Bodies, if it were only for the sake of the Soul, which cannot be well while the Body is sick: Here we must truly acknowledg, that tho the chief part of Happiness consists in the Tranquility of the Mind, yet we must not despise the other part, which consists in the freedom from bodily Pain.

I confess there be some who believe, that it is a crime, when it concerns the chief good or the business of Man, to joyn the advantages of the Body to them of the Mind; and consequently believe, That it is an unworthy Deed to joyn that freedom from bodily Pain, with the Tranquility of the Mind. But as these are Stoicks, or such as affect to follow them, I cannot but mention here, what Cicero him∣self says against them, when addressing himself to Cato, he begins with this Principle of the Stoicks;

That we are recommended to our selves, and that the first Inclination, that Nature hath bestowed on us, is Self-preservation; that we may pre∣serve our selves such as we ought to be; that we are Men made up of Soul and Body; and there∣fore, according to our original and natural Incli∣nation,

we must love these Things, and make them the end of that chief Happiness, which con∣sists in the acquisition of such Things as are accord∣ing to Nature. Now, saith he, seeing these are our Opinions, and that you assign that to be the End, to live according to Nature, shew us now, how you can maintain, That to live honestly is bare∣ly and absolutely the chief Good? How have you so soon forsaken the Body and all those Things, that are according to Nature? If we sought for the chief Happiness, not of Man, but of some other Creature, which were all Spirit, that End that you speak of would not be the only End of that Spirit, for it would desire Health, and to be free from Pain; it would desire also its own Preservation, and whatsoever might tend to it; and it would propose to it self to live according to Nature, which is, as we have said, to possess all things agreable with Nature, at least in some measure, if not in the most considerable part. Vertue alone, say they, is sufficient to render us happy, and the Goods of the Body are but as it were small Appendages, which are not capable of rendring Life more happy. But truly a Man in grievous Pain would be very much obliged to him, who would free him from it. And if a wise Man were condemned by some Tyrant to en∣counter with Pain, his mortal Foe, he would muster up all his rational Faculties to assist and support him in so difficult and dangerous a Com∣bat. And then goes on, Every Creature of what∣soever Nature, loves it self, for where is that Creature, which forsakes it self, or any part of it self, or the use of that part, or any of the things, which are according to Nature, and its state and frame? Certainly no Person hath for∣gotten his first Constitution, but retains his first

Faculty from the beginning to the end. How can it therefore be, that only Man's Nature should suffer Man to forget his Body, and should place his chief Happiness, not in the whole, but in one part of himself? Wisdom hath not begot Man, but hath found him begun by Nature. If there were nothing to be perfected in Man, but some Motions of the Soul, that is to say, of Reason; Wisdom ought to have no other aim but Vertue, which is the perfection of Reason. So also if there were nothing to be perfected but the Body, its chief end would be Health, a freedom from Pain, Beauty, &c. But here is a Question concerning the chief good of Man, who is composed of Soul and Body; Why dont we therefore seek his chief good, in relation to his whole Nature? They who place it in one or t'other part, act in the same manner as if they had only a great care of the right Hand and neglected the Left: Because Vertue, as all the World acknowledges, holds the first and chief Place in Man, and we esteem those who are Wise to have attain'd a great degree of Perfection; will you admire nothing but Vertue, dazle your Eyes only with its Splendor and Glory? Truly Vertue is the best and most excellent thing in Man, but you dont seem to consider your self enough; we dont desire that Vertue should for∣sake Nature, but that it should keep and preserve it. But according to your direction, it preserves one part, and leaves the other. If the first Insti∣tution of Man could speak, it would tell us, that the first beginnings of its Desire, were to preserve it self in that State, that it appear'd in at the be∣ginning, &c.

Besides we are not ignorant of what we are wont to say, when we declaim against Pleasure, That it is the capital Plague of Man, the mortal Enemy of

Reason, that it puts out the Eyes of the Understand∣ing, and that it hath no correspondency with Ver∣tue, that it is the source of Treasons, the ruine of Common-wealths, the origin of all Crimes, that it wasts our paternal Estates, blasteth our Reputation, weakens the Body and makes it subject to Diseases, and that in short it hastens old Age and Death.

Not Heaven's high Rage, nor Swords or Flames combind; Can bring such Plagues as Pleasure to the Mind: On's mad with Dice, one melts in vicious Love, But when the knotty Gout forbids his Joynts to move; How sweet an evil Luxury appears, Which drown'd in Flesh, and deaf to Heavenly Cares, The sluggish Senses of their Force disarms, And worse transforms the Limbs than Circe's Charms, Without it chears the Man, within destroys, Bears Serpents in its Gold, and Torments in its Joys.

But as we have often explain'd our selves con∣cerning Pleasure, and as often declar'd, that when we say Pleasure is the End, the Happiness and the chief Good, we mean not hereby brutish and sor∣did Pleasures, but only a calm and sedate Temper of the Mind, and the freedom of the Body from Pain. It is plain therefore, that these Objections do not affect us.