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

THE First BOOK CONCERNING HAPPINESS. (Book 1)

CHAP. I. What Happiness is.

THo' Felicity or Happiness be properly the enjoyment of the Sovereign or Chief Good; and therefore the most blessed Estate that can be desired; yet because this Estate of Enjoyment comprehends this Sovereign Good, it is for that Reason called by this Name. It is also termed the Chief or the Ultimate Happiness, the End of all Ends, or The End, for its Excellency, be∣cause all other things are desired and sought after for it's sake. And lastly, that it is desired alone for it's own sake. To this purpose Aristotle tells us, That amongst the things that are desirable, there must be

something at last which is most desirable, that so we might avoid an Infinity. But here we may make two considerable Remarks.

The First is, That we don't concern our selves here with that Happiness mentioned by the Sacred Pen-Men, when they tell us how happy that Man is, who being assisted with the Divine Influences, betakes himself entirely to the Service of God; and being filled with Faith and Hope, and inflamed with Cha∣rity, spends his Life in Peace and Tranquility. Nor shall we Treat of that which may be called Natural Happiness, because it may be obtained by the strength of Nature, being such as the ancient Philo∣sophers did not doubt but to enjoy here on Earth.

The Second is, That by this Natural Felicity that we here Treat of, is not to be understood such a state of Life as we can't imagin a better, a more pleasant, and more desirable; in the which we can∣not apprehend any evil, nor think of any good thing which we shall not possess; nor of any thing that we have a desire to do, but we shall be able to accom∣plish it, and that it shall remain fix'd and unchange∣able. But we understand such a certain state of Life, in which we may be as happy as is possible; in which there are abundance of good things, and very few of any sort of evil; and in which consequently we may lead as easie, quiet and undisturbed a Life as the Con∣dition of the Country, the Society we Converse with, the Constitution of our Bodies, the manner of our Life, our Age and other Circumstances will permit: For to propose to our selves more than this, or to affect during the Course of our Natural Life the highest Felicity, is not to acknowledge, but rather forget our selves to be Men; that is to say, weak and feeble Animals, who by the Laws of Nature are subject to an infinite number of Mischiefs and Evils.

And in this sense it is that we usually say, a Wise Man, tho' tormented with exquisite Pains, may never∣theless be happy; not in a perfect and compleat sense, but he may attain to that degree that we call Human Happiness, which the Wise Man always enjoys in that measure that the Circumstances will permit, be∣cause he don't increase his Misery, either by Impa∣tience, or Despair, but rather abates it by his Con∣stancy. And by this means he is happier, or to speak more properly, he is less miserable than if he suffered himself to be dejected, as others in like Ca∣ses, who bear not their Misfortunes with the same patience and constancy of Mind, and who besides are not supplied with the same Encouragements from Wisdom as he hath; such I mean as an innocent Life, and a good Conscience void of offence, which always afford great quiet and satisfaction to the Mind.

Wherefore 'tis improper to use this kind of Ex∣pression; That it is the same thing for a Wise Man to be burning in Phalaris's Bull, as to be solacing himself upon a Bed of Roses; for it is of such things as Fire and Torments that he desires to be exempt, and wishes much rather that they were not, or that he might not suffer by them; but when they come upon him, he considers them as unavoidable Evils, and suf∣fers them with Courage; so that he may say, Ʋror, sed invictus; I burn, it is true, and suffer, and some∣times I sigh and weep, but for all this I am not van∣quish'd, nor overcome, nor do I suffer my self to be transported with Despair, which would render my Condition much more miserable.

Several Opinions concerning the efficient Cause of Happiness.

AT our first entring upon this Discourse, we may observe, that the efficient Causes of Hap∣piness being nothing else but the Goods of the Soul, of the Body, or of Fortune, some of the Philoso∣phers have highly extolled the first, some the second, and others have included them all. Those who chiefly recommend the Riches of the Mind, as Anax∣agoras, propose for the obtaining of Happiness, A Contemplative Life, together with such a kind of Freedom which proceeds from profound Knowledge. Pos∣sidonius requires Contemplation, with a Dominion over the irrational part of Man. Herillus, generally and simply, Learning, or Knowledge. Apollodorus and Lycus generally, the Pleasures of the Mind. Leucinus the Pleasures that proceed from honest things. The Stoicks, Zenon, Cleanthes, Aristus, and the rest, re∣quire Vertue. Therefore these last proceeded so far as to say, That if a Man possess'd Vertue, it matter'd not whether he were sick or well. All the rest by common Consent maintain'd, that to live happily, was nothing else but to live a Vertuous Life, or as they express it, according to Nature.

As for those who prefer the Riches and advanta∣ges of the Body, and who chiefly aim at sensual Plea∣sures, they were for that Reason Named the Volup∣tuous, Voluptuarii Philosophi, of whom we shall have occasion to discourse hereafter, when we shall com∣pare them with Epicurus.

At present we shall only take notice that they have had Aristippus for their Leader, and with him the Cyrenaicks, of whom we shall make mention after∣wards; and that the Annicerians, who proceed from the Cyrenaicks, aimed at no certain end of Life, but

at the Pleasure of every particular Action, of what kind or Nature soever.

Lastly, amongst such as prefer the Goods of For∣tune, they are generally the vulgar sort of People, who look with a greedy desire, some upon Riches, some upon Honours, some upon other things: But amongst the Philosophers none are mention'd, but such as joyn to these outward Advantages the per∣fections also both of the Mind and Body; for this hath given occasion to the Poets to make these ex∣cellent representations of Happiness, which they have borrowed from several Opinions of the Philosophers, such as this, which requires that good Fortune might accompany Vertue.

Virtus colenda; Sors petenda a Diis bona: Haec quippe duo cui suppetunt, is vivere Et vir beatus, & bonus simul potest.

Another desires to enjoy perfect Health, and a sound Constitution of Body, Riches purchased with∣out Fraud, and in short, to spend his Life amongst his Friends.

Fragili viro optima res bene valere, Atque indolem bonam esse sortitum; Tum & possidere opes dolo haud partas; Tandem & cum amicis exigere vitam.

Another Description we find in Martial, who among many other things, desires to enjoy a Pater∣nal Estate, acquir'd without Labour, to be free from the vexation of Law-Suits, &c.

Since Dearest Friend 'tis your desire to see A true Receipt of Happiness from me; These are the Chief Ingredients, if not all, Take an Estate neither too great, nor small, Which Quantum sufficit the Doctors call.

Let this Estate from Parents Care descend, The getting it too much of Life does spend. Take such a Ground, whose gratitude may be A fair Encouragement for Industry: Let constant Fires the Winter's Fury tame, And let thy Kitchins be a Vestal Flame: Thee to the Town let never Suits at Law, And rarely, very rarely Business draw; Thy active Mind in equal Temper keep, In undisturbed Peace, yet not in sleep; Let Exercise a vigorous Health maintain, Without which, all the Composition's vain: In the same weight Prudence and Innocence take, Ana of each does the just Mixture make: But a few Friendships wear, and let them be By Nature and by Fortune fit for thee: Instead of Art and Luxury in Food, Let Mirth and Freedom make thy Table good. If any Cares into the Day-time creep, At Night without Wine's Opium, let them sleep. Let Rest, which Nature does to Darkness wed, And not Lust, recommend to thee thy Bed. Be satisfied, and pleas'd with what thou art, Act chearfully and well th' allotted Part: Enjoy the present hour, be thankful for the past, And neither fear nor wish th' approaches of the last.

Here we may first observe, as Horace according to Aristotle tells us, that many are often disappointed in their search after Happiness, imagining that it con∣siks chiefly in such things as they want, and which they admire in others; as the Ignorant suppose it in Knowledge, the Poor in Riches, the Sick in Health; which Horace very well expresseth, speaking of the Merchant, of the Soldier, and of the Husband∣man; the one envies and admires the other's Con∣dition.

O happy Seamen! cries th' Old Son of War, With batter'd Limbs, and half his Face a Scar. The restless Seaman, when insulting Gales Toss the light Bark, and Conquer all his Sails: (If fear allows one distant thought, or word,) Trembling applauds the Brother of the Sword. The Man of Law when pondring at the Door, His wakeful Client knocks him up at four Wou'd leave the Bar, to lie securely warm, And part with all his Practice for a Farm. The clumsy Peasant, if when Harvest's done, A kind Subpoena call's him up to Town; 'Tis odds, but ravish'd with the gaudy Scene, He sells his Team, sets up for Citizen.

Secondly, To admire nothing, as Horace again says, is almost the only thing capable of rendring a Man happy, and continuing him so.

Not to admire, as most are wont to do, It is the only Method that I know, To make Men happy, and to keep them so.

And this does not only shew the Tranquility of mind unto which he hath attained; who perceiving the Vanity of all Human things, does not admire nor any way seek after, but rather despises the Glory of Power, Honours, and Riches, which generally dazle Mens Eyes; but it also shews that other sort of Tran∣quility, which he hath attained, who hath arrived to the knowledge of Natural Causes; so that he neither wonders, nor fears, nor is any way disquieted, as the Vulgar usually are.

Happy the Man who studying Nature's Laws, Thro' known Effects can trace the secret Cause;

His Mind possessing in a quiet State, Fearless of Fortune, and resign'd to Fate.

Thirdly, That the sweet Repose and Quiet which we meet with in a retired state, void of the Incum∣brances of the World, contributes not a little to our Happiness; for he that aspires to the true Felicity of Life, which consists chiefly in the Tranquility of Mind, must not, as Democritus tells us, incumber himself in much Business, either Private, or Publick. And it is generally known, that the Oracle esteem'd not the Great King Gyges so Happy as the Old Fa∣ther Aglaus Psophidius, who in a little Corner of Ar∣cadia, Husbanded a small Estate, from which he reapt plentifully the Necessaries of Life, and never de∣parting thence, spent his time comfortably, free from Ambition, and without the least sense of the Evils which torment the greatest part of Mankind.

'Tis this sweet Retirement that Horace hath so much commended in his Praise of a Country Life.

Happy the Man, whom bounteous Gods allow, With his own hands Paternal Grounds to Plough! Like the first Golden Mortal happy he From Business and the Cares of Mony free! No Human Storms break off at Land his Sleep, No loud Alarms of Nature on the Deep. From all the Cheats of Law, he lives secure, Nor do's th' Affronts of Palaces endure.

The same state Virgil describes in his 2d Georgic.

O Happy (if his Happiness he knows) The Country Swain! on whom kind Heav'n bestows, At home all Riches, that wise Nature needs, Whom the just Earth with Ease and Plenty feeds. 'Tis true, no Morning Tide of Clients comes, And fills the Painted Channels of his Rooms;

Adoring the rich Figures as they pass; In Tapestry wrought, or cut in living Brass; Nor is his Wool superfluously dy'd With the dear Poison of Assyrian Pride; Nor do Arabian Perfumes vainly spoil The native Ʋse and Sweetness of his Oyl; Instead of these his calm and harmless Life, Free from th' Alarms of Fear and Storm of Strife Do's with substantial Blessedness abound, And the soft Wings of Peace cover him round. Through Artless Grates the murmuring Waters glide, Thick Trees both against Heat and Cold provide, From whence the Birds salute him, and his Ground With lowing Herds and bleating Sheep do's sound; And all the Rivers and the Forests nigh, Do Food and Game and Exercise supply.

As to Epicurus we shall speak more at large, that he makes Happiness to consist in the Ease of the Body, and the Tranquility of the Mind, teaching at the same time, and maintaining, That the efficient Causes of this Felicity, are neither the delicious Wines, nor the delicate Meats, nor any such thing; but a sound, just and enlightned Reason assisted by Vertue, from which it is not to be separated, and which duly weighs and examines the Causes and Motives that in∣duce us, either to embrace or shun any thing. There∣fore designing to treat afterwards of Happiness, he earnestly exhorts, to consider throughly of the things that conduce to it; and because amongst those things the chief is, That the Mind may be disengaged from certain Mistakes, which cause continual Disturbances and vain Fears, he mentions several Particulars, which he believes to be of that Importance, that when well examin'd, will settle the Mind, and pro∣cure to it a real and solid Happiness.

Some Particulars needful to be examin'd, and con∣sider'd, which will contribute very much to the Repose and Happiness of the Mind.

THE First Particular, is the Knowledge and Fear of God. And certainly this Philosopher had good Reason to recommend to us in the first place, the right Ideas that we are to entertain of this Sovereign Being; because he that hath a right Notion of him, is so much inflamed with Love and Affection for God, that he constantly endeavours to please him by an honest and a vertuous Life, always trusting in his infinite Goodness, and expecting all things from him, who is the Fountain of all good: By this means he spends his Life sweetly, peaceably, and pleasantly. We shall not concern our selves here to shew the Existence of this Being, seeing we have already done it elsewhere: But shall only take no∣tice, that tho' Epicurus delivers some Notions that are very just and reasonable, yet he hath others that are not to be entertained by pious Men, tho' he inter∣prets 'em after his own Fashion; such are to be look'd upon as impious; for he believes, That God hath a Being, as Lucretius makes him acknowledge in his first Book.

For whatsoe'er's Divine must live in Peace, In undisturb'd and everlasting Ease; Not care for us; from Fears and Dangers free, Sufficient to it's own Felicity: Nought here below, nought in our Power it needs, Ne'er smiles at good, ne'er frowns at wicked deeds.

Now I say, to believe such a supreme Being, that exists to all Eternity, is immortal and infinitely hap∣py in it's own Nature, enjoying all things within it

self, and stands in no need of us, nor hath any Cause to fear; that is not subject to Pain, Anger, nor other Passions, are undeniable Truths, and an Opinion that is Praise-worthy, especially in a Heathen Philoso∣pher; but when he denies Providence, as these Ver∣ses do intimate, and when he thinks that it is not consisting with the highest Felicity, as if God had no particular Care of Men; That the Just are to ex∣pect nothing from his Goodness, nor the Wicked are not to dread his Justice, are such Opinions, that our Reason and Religion will not permit us to enter∣tain.

The second Particular relates to Death. For as Aristotle observes, Death is look'd upon as the most dreadful Evil, because none is exempted, being una∣voidable. Therefore Epicurus judges, That we ought to accustom our selves to think upon it, that we might learn by that means as much as is possible to free our selves from such Fears of Death, as might disturb our Tranquility, and consequently the Hap∣piness of our Life; and for that Reason, he endea∣vours to perswade us, that it is so far from being the most dreadful of all Evils, that in it self it is no Evil at all: And thus he argues; Death, saith he, don't affect us, and by consequence in respect of us, is not to be judged an Evil; for what affects us is attended by some but, now Death is the privation of Sense. He tells us also, with Anaxagoras, That as before we were capable of Sense, it was not grievous to us to have no Sense; so likewise when we shall have lost it, we shall not be troubled at the want of it. As when we are asleep, we are not concerned, because we are not awake: So when we shall be dead, it will not trouble us, that we are not living. He concludes with Archesilas, That Death, which is said to be an Evil, hath this belonging to it, that when it hath been present, it hath never troubled any body. And that it is through the Weakness of the Mind, and the dismal Apprehensions that we have of Death, that

makes it seem so terrible to us when absent, insomuch that some are struck dead with the very Fear of dying.

We may very well acknowledge, That Death is the Privation of our External Sense, or of Sense, properly so called. And Epicurus hath very good Reason to say, That in Death there is nothing to be feared, that may injure the Sight, the Hearing, the Smell, the Tast, or the Sense of Feeling; for all these Senses cannot be without the Body, and then the Body ceases to be, or is dissolved. But that which we are not to allow is, what he affirms elsewhere, That Death is also the Privation or Extinction of the Spirit, or Understanding, which is an internal Sense; a Sense according to his Notion. Therefore, that we may not be hindred, by this Impiety, which has been sufficiently refuted in treating of the Im∣mortality of the Soul; let us proceed to give a Check to the extraordinary Apprehensions of Death, and to those Fears that frequently disturb all the Peace and Quiet of our Life, and with a sullen Blackness infect and poison all our most innocent Pleasures, as Lucretius saith,

— Those idle Fears, That spoil our Lives with Jealousies and Cares, Disturb our Joys with dread of Pains beneath, And sully them with the black Fears of Death.

Let us therefore in the first place, remember to give a Check to that fond Desire of prolonging our days without bounds. Let us, I say, so remember this frail and infirm Condition of our Nature, as not to desire any thing above it's Reach and Capacity. Let us calmly and quietly, without repining, enjoy this Gift of Life, whether it be bestowed upon us for a longer or a shorter time. It is certain, that our Ma∣ker may deprive us of it without doing us any wrong. Let us thankfully acknowledge his Liberality, from

whom we have received it, and add this to the num∣ber of those Benefits, which we daily draw from his Bounty.

Nature favours us for a while with the use of the Prospect of those Enjoyments: Be not angry, that we must withdraw when the time is expired; for we were admitted upon no other Terms, but to yield our places to others, as our Ancestors have done to us. Our Bodies are naturally inclinable to Corruption, and the manner of our Nativity renders our Death unavoidable. If to be Born is pleasant, let not our Dissolution be grievous to us, to make use of Seneca's Words. If the striving against this Fatality could any ways advantage us, we should then perhaps ap∣prove of the Endeavours that are made, but all our Strugglings are to no purpose, we do but add to our pain.

The number of our Days is so appointed, that the time of our Life slides away, and is not to be reco∣vered; and we run our Race in such a manner, that whether we will or not, we are brought at last to the end.

As many Days as we pass over, so many are cut off from that Life that Nature hath alotted to us. So that Death being the Privation of Life, we are dy∣ing continually, as long as we live, and that by a Death that carries not all at once, but by degrees one step after another, tho' the last is that unto which the Name of Death is assigned. So true it is, that the end of our Life depends upon the first Mo∣ment.

Let us therefore moderate our Desires according to the Rule that Nature hath prescribed; and if the De∣stinies (to speak according to the ancient Poets) can∣not be prevail'd upon, so that against our Wills, we are hurried away; let us at least alleviate our Trouble by suffering our selves to be carried off willingly.

The best and only Remedy to pass our Life free and void of Trouble, is to suit our selves to our Nature, to desire nothing but what it requires, and to esteem the last Moment of our Life as a free Gift of Providence, and to dispose and prepare our selves in such a manner, that when Death approaches, we may say, I have lived, and I have finished the Race that Nature hath appointed me.

Vixi & quem dederas cursum Natura peregi.

She calls away, but I come of mine own accord. Nature requires of me what I am intrusted with, I yield it willingly: I am commanded to die, I expire without Regret. We might also very well make use of the Advice of Lucretius, and speak thus to our selves. The greatest and most mighty Monarchs of the World are dead; and Scipio, that Thunderbolt of War, and Terror of Carthage, hath left his Bones in the Earth, like as the vilest Slave: Anchises, the most Religious of all men, and Homer the Prince of the Poets, are dead; and shall we murmur to die?

But more to comfort thee— Consider, Ancus perish'd long ago; Ancus, a better Man by much than thou. Consider, mighty Kings in pamper'd State Fall, and ingloriously submit to Fate. Scipio that Scourge of Carthage, now the Grave Keeps Prisoner like the meanest common Slave; Nay, the great Wits and Poets too, that give Eternity to others, cease to live. Homer their Prince, the Darling of the Nine (What Troy would at a second fall repine To be thus sung?) is nothing now but Fame, A lasting, far diffus'd, but empty Name.

Let us say moreover, Gassendus himself is dead, and that great Man hath finished his Course like other Mortals; he who in profound Learning and Wisdom excell'd the rest of Mankind, and who rising like a Sun, darkned the Light of all the Stars.

Nay Great Gassendi's Race of Life is run, That Man of Wit, who other Men out-shone, As far as meaner Stars the mid-day Sun.

And can'st not thou, O Wretch, resolve to die?

Then how dar'st thou repine to die and grieve, Thou meaner Soul, thou dead ev'n whilst alive? That sleep'st and dream'st the most of Life away, Thy Night is full as rational as thy Day. Still vext with Cares, who never understood The Principles of ill, nor use of good, Nor whence thy Cares proceed, but reel'st about, In vain unsettled Thoughts, condemn'd to doubt.

Thou whose Life is as half dead; thou who spend∣est above half thy time in Sleep; who snorest, (as I may say) waking and feedest upon Fancies, and who livest in the midst of Fears and continual Troubles. It is what our famous Malherbe had in his Thoughts, when he bewails the unhappy Fate of great Men, who are subject to the same Laws of Death as the mean∣est Beggars.

Yet these are turn'd to Dust, and Fate Rules with such Arbitrary Sway, So binds its Laws on every State, That all their Equal's Doom Obey. With none e'er yet Impartial Destiny Of all it's num'rous Subjects wou'd dispense, Hear this ye Vulgar Souls, and hence Ʋnrepining Learn to Die.

But here some will object, we shall be depriv'd of all the Blessings of Life, as Lucretius Elegantly Ex∣presses it, Lib. 3.

Ay, but he now is snatcht from all his Joys; No more shall his Chast Wife, and Pratling Boys Run to their Dad, with eager hast, and strive Which shall have the first Kiss, as when alive. Ay, but he now no more from Wars shall come, Bring Peace and Safety to his Friends at home; Wretched, O Wretched Man! one Fatal Day Has snatch'd the vast Delights of Life away.

It is true, that this is commonly objected, but they seldom Consider that this supposed Unhappy Man shall then have no desire at all for such things; and that when he shall be really Dead, he shall not see any like himself standing near his Tomb, beating the Breast, and languishing with Grief, as the same Au∣thor Describes.

Thus they bewail, but go no further on, And add, that his Desires and Wants are gone. But the fond Fool n'er thinks, that when kind Death Shall close his Eyes in Night, and stop his Breath; Then nothing of this thinking thing remains, To mourn his Fate, and feel sharp Grief and Pains.

May not we likewise thus Argue, as Plutarch Ob∣serves, and which often occurs in our Thoughts? If our Life, which we esteem very long, when it extends to an Hundred Years, were naturally but of one Days continuance, as some Animals mention'd by Aristo∣tle, in the Kingdom of Pontus are; And if like them in the Morning we were in our Youth, at Noon in our Strength and full Growth, and at Night in our Old Age; It is certain, in this Case we should be as well pleas'd to live one Day till Night, as we are now to live an hundred years. And on the con∣trary,

if our Life did now extend to a thousand years, as did that of our first Fathers, in that Case it would grieve us as much to Die at the end of six hundred years, as to depart now at the expiration of three∣score. It is the same in respect of those, who first came into the World, if they had continued till this present time, it would trouble them as much to Die now, as it does us.

These Considerations therefore ought to teach us, that our Life of what sort soever, is to be computed, not by its length, but by the good Qualifications and Pleasures that attend it. In the same manner (saith Seneca) As the Perfection of a Circle ought to be compu∣ted, not by the Greatness, but by the exact Roundness of the Figure. O Vain and Indiscreet Diligence, saith Pliny, Men compute the number of their Days, where they should only seek their true Worth.

Heu vana, & imprudens diligentia, numerus dierum Computatur ubi quaeritur pondus!

We don't Consider, that as the Mass of this Earth, and all the World beside, and a thousand other such Worlds, if you please, are but as a Point, if compa∣red with the vast extended space of the Heavens: Thus the longest Life of Man, were it as long as that of the Hamadryades, or a thousand thousand times more, is but a Moment, if compared with Eter∣nity. This Life, saith Seneca, is but a Point, How can we extend this Point?

In hoc punctum conjectus es, Quod ut extendas, quousque extendes?

Know, saith Lucretius, That by the prolonging of our Days we diminish nothing from the time and long conti∣nuance of Death; and that he who dies to day, shall not be dead a less time than he who died a thousand years ago.

What tho' a thousand years prolong thy breath, How can this shorten the long state of Death? For tho' thy Life shall numerous Ages fill, The State of Death shall be Eternal still; And he that dies to day, shall be no more, As long as those who perish'd long before.

If Nature, saith he again, should in anger speak to us in this manner?

What Cause hast thou, O Mor∣tal to Weep, and to Complain of Death? If thy former Life hath been easie and pleasant, and if thou hast known how to make use of the good things and delights that I have afforded thee, why dost thou not as a Guest, depart when thou art full, and satisfied with Life? and why dost thou not accept, fond Creature, of the agreeable Repose that is offered thee? But if otherwise, thy Life hath been to thee a burthen, and if thou hast suf∣fered my Bounties to perish, why desirst thou more to mispend them after the same manner? for I can give thee no new thing. And if thou shouldst live thousands of years, thou wilt but still see the same things repeated over again.

If Nature should speak to us in this Language, should we not have reason to approve of this Discourse, and own that it hath cause to Reproach us in this manner?

Fond Mortal, what's the matter thou dost sigh? Why all these Tears, because thou once must die, And once submit to strong Necessity? For if the Race thou hast already run Was pleasant, if with joy thou saws't the Sun: If all thy Pleasures did not pass thy Mind, As thro' a Sieve, but left some Sweets behind; Why dost thou not then like a thankful Guest, Rise cheerfully from Life's abundant Feast, And with a quiet Mind go take thy Rest?

But if all those Delights are lost and gone, Spent idly all, and Life a burthen grown; Then why, fond Mortal, dost thou ask for more? Why still desire t'increase thy wretched store? And wish for what must wast like those before? Not rather free thy self from Pains and Fear, And end thy Life, and necessary care? My Pleasures always in a Circle run, The same returning with the yearly Sun: And thus, tho' thou dost still enjoy thy Prime, And tho' thy Limbs feel not the rage of Time; Yet I can find no new, no fresh Delight, The same dull Joys must vex thy Appetite: Altho' thou coud'st prolong thy wretched Breath For numerous Years; much more if free from Death.

At least we must acknowledge that a Wise Man who hath lived long enough to consider the World, ought of his own accord to submit himself to the Course of Nature, when he perceives that his time is come, and cannot but suppose that his Race is Run, and that the Circle that he hath finish'd is compleat; and if this Circle is not to be compared to Eternity, it is however with the continuance of the World.

As to what relates to the whole Prospect of Na∣ture, he hath often beheld the Heavens, the Earth, and other things included in the World; He hath often seen the rising and the setting of the Coelestial Bodies; He hath taken notice of several Eclipses, and many other Phaenomenas or unusual Appearances in the Skye, the constant succession of the Seasons, and in a word, many particular Generations, many Cor∣ruptions and Transmutations. And as to those things which relate to Mankind, he hath seen, or at least hath heard and understood from History the Transactions that have happen'd from the beginning; of Peace, and of War, of Faith kept, and violated; of a Polite Life, and of a rude and barbarous Beha∣viour;

of Laws Establish'd, and Abolish'd, of King∣doms and Commonwealths in their first Birth and Declension, and generally all other things that he hath any knowledge of, or which have been told him, and with which he is in any wise acquainted, as if he had been present when they first happen'd. So that he ought to consider, that all the time that is gone before him relates to him, as if his Life were begun with the things themselves. And because we must judge of the future by the time past, he ought also to think that all the subsequent time relates to him in the same manner; and that there shall be no∣thing hereafter, but what hath been already; that there is nothing but the Circumstances of things that alter, and that all things in general steer the same common Course, and make the like appearances; so that Holy Writ hath reason to say, The thing that hath been, it is that which shall be, and that which is done, is that which shall be done again, and there is no new thing under the Sun. Is there any thing whereof it may be said, see this is new? From whence we may conclude, that a Wise Man ought not to fancy his Life short; for by casting his eye upon the time past, and foreseeing the time to come, he may ex∣tend it to as great a length as the duration of the Universe.

Moreover, tho' Epicurus had cause to say, That it is ridiculous to assert that there is no evil in Death when it is present, and yet to dread it, and be troubled when it must come; as if there were any reason to be disturbed for that which is absent, which when present never gives us the least sorrow: Nevertheless, because other Considerati∣ons represent Death dreadful, as the Evils and Pains that Usher it, and those that we think will be its neces∣sary Attendants; Seneca therefore makes it his busi∣ness to recommend divers Considerations, wherein he shews, that tho' Death in it self is no Evil, yet it appears so much in that Notion, that it ought not

to be lookt upon as an indifferent thing; for as he expresseth himself; Death is not indifferent in the same manner as it is indifferent whether the Hairs of my head be of one length, or not; for Death is to be reckon'd amongst those things, which tho' they be no real Evils, yet they appear to be so; for we love our selves; and na∣turally desire to subsist and preserve our selves, and we have an innate aversion from a dissolution, because it seems to deprive us of many advantages, and draws us away from that plenty of Enjoyments unto which we are accustomed. There is yet one thing more which cau∣seth us to dread Death. We know the things present, but we are altogether Strangers to those unto which we are a going; and therefore we fear that which is un∣known. Besides, we have a natural dread of Darkness, into which we imagin that Death is leading us: So that tho' Death is indifferent, yet it is not of the number of those things that are easily to be despised; we ought to inure and harden our Minds by a long accustomed Habit, to enable us the more willingly to undergo and encounter with the dismal approaches of Death.

The Third Particular relates to the abominable Opinion of the Stoicks, who were perswaded that in some Cases Men had the liberty to kill themselves; for thus you see Seneca represents them arguing. It is certainly a great affliction to live in want; but there is nothing that obliges us absolutely to continue in it; for which way soever we glance our eyes, we may see the end of our Sufferings, and our Deliverance, either in a Precipice, in a River, by a Dagger, by a Tree, by open∣ing a Vein, or by Abstinence. We ought to give God thanks that none of us is detained against his Will in this present Life. The Eternal Decree hath admirably well appointed that there should be but one kind of en∣trance into the World, but many out of it. Death, say they, is to be met with in every place; God hath very wisely contrived, that there is none but may take away

our Life, but no Man can take away our Death, tho' it hath a thousand Passages open to it.

Ubique Mors est; optime hoc cavit Deus: Eripere vitam nemo non homini potest; At nemo mortem; mille ad hanc exitus patent.

He that knows how to die, can free himself, and he hath always the Door of his Prison open. True it is, there is a Chain that holds us fast, name∣ly the Love of Life; and this Love, though we ought not absolutely to reject it, yet we should at least mitigate it, that if sometimes Accidents re∣quire, it may not keep us back, nor hinder us from being ready to perform at present, that which we must one day do or suffer. These following Tenets proceed from the same School. The Wise Man lives as long as he ought, tho' not so long as he may; He knows where he ought to live, with whom, and how, and what he ought to do. He considers the manner of his Life, and not the length. If he meets with Crosses, and Misfortunes, he frees him∣self, and don't stay for the last necessity to set him at liberty; but as soon as Fortune begins to frown upon him, he seriously considers, if he ought not at that time to end his days. He believes that if he himself hastens his end, or expects it from ano∣ther hand, it is the same thing; or whether it be brought to pass sooner or later, it grieves him not. Nevertheless sometimes though his Death is certain and appointed, and that he knows himself set apart for Execution, yet he won't lend his helping hand, nor will he be overwhelm'd with Sorrow. It is a folly to die for fear of Death. If he that is to kill thee is coming, wait for him, Why wilt thou pre∣vent him? and why wilt thou undertake to execute upon thy self another's Cruelty? Dost thou covet the Office of an Executioner? or wilt thou save

him the labour? Socrates ought to have ended his Days by Abstinence, and die by Hunger, rather than by Poison, yet he continued thirty days in Prison, in expectation of Death; not because du∣ring this time he had hopes of a Reprieve, but to shew himself Obedient to the Laws, and to give his Friends the Pleasure of enjoying the Conversation of Socrates, when he was ready to Die. When therefore an outward Violence threatens us with Death, we can't give any general or absolute Di∣rections, whether we are to prevent it, or to ex∣pect it with Patience, for there are many Circum∣stances to be considered. But if there be two kinds of Death, the one full of grievous Torments, the other sudden and easie, why may not we chuse the latter?

This was the Opinion of Hyeronimus, of all the Stoicks, and namely of Pliny, who stiles the Earth a good Mother, because it hath compassion of us, and hath appointed the Poisons for our use. It seems to be like∣wise the Opinion of Plato; for tho' Cicero makes him say, That we ought to preserve the Soul inclosed in the Body, and without the command of him who gave it, we must not depart out of this Life, that we might not thereby seem to despise this gift that God hath bestowed upon Man: Yet in his Book of Laws, he declares, That he who kills himself is not to be blamed, but when he doth the act, without being thereunto forced by the Sentence of the Judge, or by some unsufferable and unavoidable accident of Fortune, or by Misery and Publick shame. Not to mention Cicero, who in a certain place commends the Opinion of Pythagoras, because he forbids to depart out of our Fortress, or to quit our Station of Life without the appointment of the General, that is to say, of God. Yet elsewhere he teaches, That in our Life we ought to observe the same Rule, that is in the Banquetings of the Greeks, that is to say, either to Drink, or to Depart; so that if we

can't bear the injuries and affronts of Fortune, we must undergo them, by flying from them. To speak no∣thing of Cato, who seems not to have sought Death so much to avoid the sight of Caesar, as to obey the Decrees, and follow the Dictates of the Stoicks, esteeming it his Glory to observe them, and to leave his Name Famous to Posterity, by some Great and Notable Action; for Lactantius saith, Cato was du∣ring his Life a Follower of the Vanity of the Stoicks.

What relates to Democritus, Truly his Opinion, as the same Lactantius informs us, was different from that of the Stoicks; yet he suffered himself to die by ab∣stinence, when he found in his very great Age, that the strength of his Body, and the abilities of his Mind began to fail.

Sponte sua letho Caput obvius obtulit ipse.

Which we may say, is altogether Criminal; for if a Murderer is an Offender, because he kills a Man, he that murders himself is guilty of the same Crime, because he also kills a Man. It is very probable that this is the greatest Crime, whereof the Vengeance is reserved to God alone; for as we do not enter upon Life of our own accord, so neither are we to depart out of it of our own heads, but by his Order, who hath placed us in the Body to inhabit there. And if any violence or injury be done us, we must bear it patiently, because the Life of a guitless Person that is destroyed, cannot be unreven∣ged; for we have a Powerful God, unto whom Vengeance always belongs.

Finally, As for Epicurus, it is thought that he was not of the same Judgment with the Stoicks; not only because he saith, That the Wise Man is easie under his Torments, but also because that he himself being grie∣vously tormented with the Stone and Gravel, he ne∣ver hasten'd his Death, but waited for it patiently. Besides, Seneca assures us, that Epicurus does as much

blame those that desire Death, as those that fear it; and that there is a great indiscretion, nay folly, in advancing our Death, for fear of Death.

Yet this happens very often, as Lucretius tells us, not only because that the extraordinary fear that Death begets in us, casts us sometimes into a dismal Melancholy, which renders all things uneasie to us, and proceeds so far as to make Life it self to become a troublesome, incommodious, and an intolerable thing; and at last to seek out the strangest means to deliver our selves from it, and to procure our Death:

Et saepe usque adeo mortis formidine, vitae Percipit ingratos odium, lucis{que} videnda Ʋt sibi conciscant moerenti pectore lethum.

But this extraordinary Fear causeth by degrees a certain kind of Melancholy, which depresseth the Heart, enfeebles the Spirits, and obstructs all the operations of Life. It stops Digestion, and draws upon us many Diseases, that are the immediate Cau∣ses of Death.

However, the Opinion of the Stoicks is not only contrary to the Sacred Precepts of our Religion, but is also contrary to Nature, and right Reason. We must except some certain Persons, who being di∣rected by a Particular and Divine Instinct, have been instrumental in procuring their own Deaths, as Samson, and others in the Old-Testament, and So∣phronia and Pelagia since the New; for Nature fur∣nishes all sorts of Animals with a Natural love of Life, and there is none besides Man, let them be tormented with never so grievous pain, but labours to preserve Life as much as they can, and to avoid Death. This is a sign that none but Man doth by his mistaken Opinions corrupt the Institution of Na∣ture, when he refuseth the benefit of Life, and ad∣vanceth

his Death; he acts then by a wickedness pe∣culiar to himself; for the true state of Nature is to be consider'd in the general body of the Creatures, and not in some few individuals of one single Species, that hasten their own destruction, and cast away themselves before the time appointed by Nature. From hence we may conclude, that such are injurious to God, and Nature, who being design'd and order'd to perform a certain Race, stop in the middle of their Course of their own accord, and who being ap∣pointed to watch, forsake and abandon their Post, without waiting for Orders from their Superiors.

Besides, Reason forbids us to be Cruel against the Innocent, who never did us any harm; and by con∣sequence it don't allow that we should act inhumanly upon our selves, from whom we never experienced any Hatred, but rather too much Love.

Moreover, upon what occasion can our Vertue ap∣pear more conspicuous, than in suffering Courageously the Evils that our hard Fortune imposes upon us? To die, saith Aristotle, because of our Poverty, or for Love, or for some other mischievous accident, is not the act of a Man of Spirit and Courage, but of a mean and timorous Soul, for it is the part of a weak Mind to shun and flye from things hard to be endured. Stout Men, saith Curtius, are wont to despise Death, rather than to hate Life. 'Tis the trouble and impatience of Suffering that carries the Cowards to base Actions, that makes them despised, and scorned. Vertue leaves no∣thing unattempted, and Death is the last thing with which we must Encounter, but not as timerous, lazy, and unwilling Souls.

I shall not here stay to examin the Opinion of those, who imagining, saith Lactantius, that the Souls are Eternal, have therefore kill'd themselves, as Clean∣thes, Chrysippus, and Zeno, expecting to be trans∣ported at the same time to Heaven; or as Empedocles, who cast himself in the Night into the Flames of Mount-Aetna,

that by disappearing so suddenly, the World might think that he was gone to the Gods; or, as Cato, who was during his Life-time a Follower of the vanity of the Stoicks; who before he kill'd himself, as it is Reported, had read Plato's Book of the Eternity of the Soul; or finally, as Cleombrotus, who after he had read the same Book, cast himself down a Precipice. This is a Cursed and Abominable Doctrin, that drives Men out of their Lives.

Neither shall I trouble my self with that Cyrenaick of Hegesius, who Disputed so Elegantly concerning the Miseries of Life, and the Blessed Place of the Souls after Death, that King Ptolomy was forced to forbid him to speak in Publick, because so many of his Disciples after they had heard him, destroyed themselves, as Cicero Re∣ports, and some others. For the Evils that we in∣dure in this Life may happen to be so great, and in∣crease in such a manner, that when the time of Death is come, the loss of Life may not be unpleasant, and that in such a Case, Death may be esteem'd as the Haven that shelters us from the Miseries and Tor∣ments of Life. But to aggravate our Afflictions so far, as to beget in us a scorn and hatred of Life, is to be injurious and unthankful to Nature, as if the Gift of Life that hath been bestowed upon us for our use, were to be rashly cast away; or as if we were not to accept of it any longer, nor honestly and quietly to enjoy it, as long as is possible.

'Tis true, what Theognis said formerly,

That it were much better for Men not to be Born, or to Die as soon as they are Born, is a Celebrated Saying.

Non nasci res est mortalibus optima longe, Nec Solis radiis acre videre Jubar, Aut natum Ditis quamprimum lumen adire.

This is confirmed by the Example of Cleobis, of Biton, of Agamedes, of Pindarus, and of some others, who having Petitioned the Gods to grant to them the thing which was best and most desirable, were admitted to this great favour, To die in a short time. Answerable to this is the Custom of the Thracians, who wept at the Birth of their Children, but Con∣gratulated the Happiness of such as Died. Not to mention Menander, who wish'd a young Man dead, because he was well beloved by the Gods.

Quem diligunt Dii, Juvenis ipse interit.

Nor to say any thing of that Famous Sentence;

Vitam nemo acciperet, si daretur scientibus,

That no body would accept of Life willingly, if it were given to them that knew what it were. But pray who will believe that Theognis, and the rest, have spoken seriously, and without any Restriction? I say without any Restriction; for if they would have it, that it is better for such only, who are to be miserable all their Lives, that they had not been Born, or to have Died at the very moment of their Birth, the Saying might be tolerable, and allowable; but to speak this in relation to all Men, is to affront Nature, the Mistriss both of our Life and Death, that hath orde∣red and appointed our Birth, and our Dissolution, as she hath all other things for the preservation of the Universe. It were to expose our selves to be con∣tradicted, if not by all, yet by the most part of Men, who are not weary of Life, but seek to pre∣serve it as carefully as they can. For Life, as we have already observed, hath something in it very pleasing and lovely; therefore he that speaks in this manner, shall feel himself bound and held fast; and I am apt to believe, that he may be like the Old Man

in Aesop, who sent Death back again, tho' he had often called for it before; or like another, who re∣fused to make use of the Dagger that he had desired to be brought, to free himself, as he pretended, from the Misery that he could no longer endure. Certainly that Person was in jest, who said, That to Live, or to Die, were Acts of Indifferency. And when one ask'd him, Why then don't you Die? his Answer was, Because it was indifferent to him. But I am perswaded, if any had assaulted him with a Naked Sword in his hand, he would have chosen rather to Live than to Die. Another answered more ingenuously, who when some Re∣proached him, that he having made profession of Wisdom, acted not accordingly, when he trembled at the approach of Danger, said, For your part you have no reason to be afraid, because your Soul is of small value; but I am afraid for the Precious Soul of Aristippus. And another, when some told him, that he had no reason to have such a desire of li∣ving to be Old; Well, quoth he, I but just now arriv'd to the Knowledge of Wisdom, and I desire therefore a little time to enjoy it; as they who enter into Matrimony well stricken in years wish for long Life to breed up their Children. But there is no∣thing more remarkable than what Cicero relates of Leontinus Gorgias, who having attain'd to the Age of one hundred and seven years, without any in∣terruption by his Labours, and ordinary Occupa∣tions, answered, to those, who desired to know from him why he had a mind to live so long?

Nihil habeo quod incusem Senectutem.

I have, says he, no reason to complain of my Old Age.

The Fourth Particular relates to the time to come, and forbids either impatiently to expect, or totally to despair; that so we may not feed our selves with vain Hopes, nor depend upon that, which neither is, nor it may be ever shall happen. For Fortune being of it's own Nature changeable and inconstant, nothing that is within her Power can be foreseen, or relied upon with so much cer∣tainty, but it may often deceive him who expects it. So that it is much our surer way, not absolute∣ly to despair of the things that we foresee, nor yet to be too much assured of them as Infallible; and in the mean while to prepare our selves in such a manner for all Events, that in case it happens o∣therwise than we expect, we may not think our selves deprived of a thing which is of absolute necessity to us. This kind of Sentence, Ni trop esperer, ni trop desperer, Neither too much Hope, nor too much Despair, tends to the same Purpose: For as to Hope and Expect with too great Reliance makes Men neglect other things, and the Mind wanders else∣where; so to have no Hopes, causeth Men to be altogether careless, and to forsake all things. Whereas he that hath a Mind moderated in respect of both Passions, finds himself in an admirable Tem∣per, and is not forced to Exclaim,

O Jupiter venerande, quale Spes malum est.

O what a miserable thing is Hope!

'Tis what Torquatus expresseth very well in Ci∣cero, when he saith, That the Wise Man lives in expectation of Future Events, as if they might chance to be; but nevertheless he depends not upon them, be∣cause it may so happen, that they may not be; in the mean while he enjoys the things present, and remem∣bers

with satisfaction the things past. 'Tis to the same purpose that he speaks also in another place; That we ought not rashly to Despair in a mean, abject and cowardly manner, nor to be too confidently transported by an immoderate Desire. This is the Reason, that when Epicurus speaks of a Fool, in opposition to a Wise Man, he saith, That the Life of the Fool is uneasie, full of Fears, and altogether depending on the time to come.

Stulti vita ingrata est, trepida est, tota in futurum fertur.

A Fool's Life is troublesome and uneasie, always transported with the thoughts of what may happen hereafter.

The Fifth Particular is but a Disgrace or Re∣proach to Mankind; for by deferring from Day to Day, their Life passeth away without any profit, always depending upon the time to come. Con∣sider, saith Seneca, according to Epicurus, how plea∣sant it is to desire nothing, and what a greatness of Mind it is to be always full, and not to depend upon For∣tune! Take hold of, and secure the present time, whereby you will have less occasion of dependance on the future. By deferring the enjoyment of Life our Life vanisheth insensibly. Dum differtur, vita trans∣currit. To the same purpose he says in Plutarch; He that needs not to Morrow, nor wishes for it, comes to it insensibly; as if he should say, That the Wise Man ought so to reckon, as if he consider'd every Day of his Life as the last, and as that which was to Compleat the Circle; for by this means he will not put off the Pleasure of the Enjoyment 'till the Morrow; and if he arrives to To Morrow, that Day will be so much the more Pleasant, it being the less expected, and being added as an overplus to

the rest; it will be look'd upon as an Advantage, and esteem'd as pure Gain.

Pacuvius, a Vice-Roy of Syria, having spent a whole Day in Feasting, and Drinking, was wont when they carried him home from the Table to his Bed, to cause these words to be sung to him, Vixit, Vixit; he hath Lived, he hath Lived. What this Glutton did, saith Seneca, out of a Spirit of Debauchery, let us Practise in Reality; and when we shall have Seriously and Virtuously spent the Day, and are retiring to our Rest, let us say with Joy and Contentment,

Vixi, & quem dederas cursum Fortuna peregi.

I have Lived, and have accomplish'd the Race that Providence hath appointed me; if God adds another Day, let us receive it with Joy and Thank∣fulness. He is certainly Happy, and enjoys him∣self most, who expects the Morrow without anxiety of thought. And whosoever after this manner can say, I have Lived, arrives every Day to a new Advantage.

Horace gives almost the same Advice. We must, saith he, suppose every Day to be the last of our Life. Thus the time which we don't expect will become grateful to us.

Omnem crede diem tibi diluxisse supremum, Grata superveniet, quae non sperabitur hora.

Let us quietly make use of this present time, ne∣ver reckoning upon that which is to come.

Be not inquisitive what shall happen to Morrow; but as if you were to Die this very Day, look upon it as an advantage, if Providence grants you any longer continuance.

Quid sit futurum cras fuge quaerere, et Quam Sors dierum cumque ferat, lucro Appone—

Accept with thankfulness the time that God be∣stows on you, and do not deferr the Enjoyment of the Comforts and Pleasures of Life 'till the next Year.

Tu, quamcunque Deus tibi fortunaverit horam, Grata sume manu, nec dulcia differ in annum.

The best of our Days are those that past first.

Optima quaeque Dies miseris mortalibus aevi Prima fugit—

As if every Day we drew nearer to the Dregs of our Life. And as if the purest Pleasures that we delay, could never be recover'd again, and those that follow, were not to be compared with the Pleasures that are past. From hence proceed the frequent Complaints of the time ill spent.

The Years I once have spent, could Heaven restore! And nevertheless, we don't endeavour so to Hus∣band the present time, that if God did restore the former, we might say, Now I understand how I might better employ it. We fancy always that our time of living Happily is not yet come; that the good things we expect, are far above those that we have already enjoy'd, or could enjoy. So that what is past we esteem as nothing, but have always in our eye and thoughts the time to come, being now as desirous of Life as ever.

Sed dum abest quod avemus, id exsuperare videtur Coetera, post aliud cum contigit, illud avemus, Et sitis aequa tenet vitai semper hiantes.

As if we were not to reckon the Time past as any way acceptable or pleasing, but at the same time to rejoyce, that it is as it were put out of danger; and the rather, because many expect the same For∣tune, and are deceived in their expectations. We must do this piece of Justice to Epicurus, saith Se∣neca, That he continually complains of our being un∣grateful for the time past, that we call not to mind the good things that we have enjoy'd, nor so much as reckon them amongst the real Advantages and solid Pleasures of Life, because there is no Delight more certain than that, which we cannot be deprived of. Praesentia bona nondum tota in solido sunt, potest illa casus aliquis incidere, futura pendent, & incerta sunt; quod praeteriit inter tuta sepositum est.

Therefore Plutarch concludes, That the Nature of Good consists not only in shunning the Evil, but also in the Remembrance, and in pleasing our selves with the thoughts that the thing is thus come to pass. But to instance once more in these ridiculous delays, and deferring of things 'till the Morrow.

'Tis a strange thing, saith Epicurus, that consider∣ing we are Born but once, that our Days are to have an end, and that the Morrow being out of our Power, nevertheless we always put off 'till the next day to Live: So that our Life is spent miserably in these continual delays, and there are none but die busied in such Af∣fairs as concern not their real Happiness; for we occupy our selves in every thing else, but to Live. From hence proceeds that other just Complaint of Seneca, Amongst other Evils, this also attends Folly, That it is always a beginning to Live. And Martial saith,

Thou art for Living to Morrow: Alas! consider, it is already late to Live to Day; he is a Wise Man who knew how to Live Yesterday.

Cras vives? hodie jam vivere, Postume, serum est. Ille sapit quisquis, Postume, vixit heri.

To the same purpose are those Verses of Manilius.

Quid tam sollicitis vitam consumimus annis, Torquemurque metu, caecaque cupidine rerum, Aeternisque senes curis, dum quaerimus aevum Perdimus, & nullo votorum fine beati, Victuros agimus semper, nec vivimus unquam?

Wherefore do we spend our Days in continual Cares and Troubles, tormented with vain Fears, and greedy Desires? We grow old in endless Vex∣ation, we lose our Life in seeking it, and without enjoying the end of our Desires; we are always la∣bouring to Live, and never really Live.

The Sixth Particular relates to our Lusts or De∣sires, the Knowledge whereof is of that import∣ance, that our Skill ought chiefly to be employ'd in distinguishing between such as are really to be ter∣med Natural and Necessary, and such as are Vain and Superfluous; for the Happiness of Life depends upon the denial of the latter, and our being con∣tent with the enjoyment of the former. But as we shall have occasion to speak of this in other places, we shall here rest satisfied only to have mention'd 'em.

The last Particular that Epicurus recommends to our Consideration, is properly an Exhortation to Study Philosophy, it being the best Physick for the Soul; for Philosophy, if we rightly consider the Etymology of the word, is The Study of Wisdom; and Wisdom to the Mind, is not only as Physick,

by which our Health is procured and preserved, but is as the very Health it self. In truth, as the Health of the Body consists in a convenient Temper and Disposition of the Humours and Qualities, so the Health of the Mind consists in a moderation of the Passions, We need but listen to Cicero to un∣derstand the Reason of this Comparison. All Passions, says he, are adjudg'd by the Philosophers the Distempers of the Mind; and they deny, that amongst such as are Fools, there are any that are exempt from these Distempers. Now such as are Distemper'd, saith he, are not Healthy; therefore every one that is a Fool is really Sick. For according to the Judgment of the Philosophers, the Health of the Mind consists in a certain Tranquility, and fix'd Constancy; and such as are not in that Disposition, they esteem'd to be Sick, or Distemper'd. Now we must suppose with Epicurus, and the rest, that usually there is nothing dearer and more valuable than the Health of the Body, which plainly demon∣strates how dear and precious the Health of the Mind ought to be, seeing, as we shall take notice hereafter, that the Goods and Evils of the Mind are of far great∣er and more considerable value than those of the Body, and consequently the end of a Happy Life, consisting in the Tranquility of the Mind, and the Health of the Body (as shall hereafter be made appear) the former is much more valuable than the latter; for he that hath a sedate Mind, composed according to the Rules of Wisdom, earnestly stu∣dies Temperance and Sobriety, which are the most solid and best supporters of Bodily Health. We must then, quoth Epicurus, act the part of a Philoso∣pher, not in appearance, or out of Ostentation, but ef∣fectually, and seriously, because it concerns us not only to seem to be in Health, but to be really so. Old Men as well as Young must apply themselves to this

Study, because it is the interest of both to be sound in Mind, as well as in Body. So that none may reproach us, with Horace, that if we have any thing in our Eye that hurts us, we are very earnest to take it out quickly, nevertheless we spend many Years, and not once think of Curing our Minds.

Quae laedunt oculos festinas demere, si quid, Est Animum, differs curandi tempus in annum.

We ought to deal otherwise with Philosophy, than Thales did with Marriage. When his Mother perswaded him to Marry, he had still some pretence to offer, that it was yet time enough, but after∣wards, he said it was too late. And as it is ridiculous to say that it is not yet time, or that the time to Heal or Cure the Body is over, so it is as ridiculous to say, that the time to play the Philosopher, that is to heal the Mind, is not yet come, or that the time is past to be Happy. 'Tis strange that we should thus miserably wast and con∣sume our time, and should not apply our selves to that which will be as useful to the Rich, as to the Poor, and which being neglected, is as prejudicial to the Young as to the Old. 'Tis a Reproach that Horace applies to himself.

—Fluunt mihi tarda —Ingrataque tempora, quae spem Consiliumque morantur agendi gnaviter id quod Aeque pauperibus prodest, locupletibus aeque, Aeque neglectum pueris, senibusque nocebit.

Take from hence, both Young and Old, take from hence with you the Viaticum, the Enter∣tainment,

and the Consolation of poor Old Age.

—Petite hinc Juvenesque, senesque miseris viatica canis,

For 'tis of the Study of Philosophy that the Poet speaks, according to Biantes, Aristippus, Antisthenes, Aristotle, and other Philosophers, stiling it the Via∣ticum of Old Age. But to mention that chiefly which ought to perswade young Men to Study Phi∣losophy, is that there is nothing more Excellent and Commendable, than to accustom our selves be∣times to good things, and to adorn the Beauty of Youth with the sweetness of Wisdom, which com∣monly is the Blessing of a more mature Age. Nor is there any thing more agreeable than to prepare and make our selves fit to meet and receive Old Age, which besides it's proper Blessings of Matu∣rity, may also shine forth with the lustre of those Vertues, which were Splendid and Remarkable in our Youth. So that by the frequent remembrance of the Vertuous Actions of our Youth, we may in our Elder Years seem to grow young again. More∣over, Wisdom is not only a proper and true Orna∣ment, but a very useful Prop and assistance against the Inconveniencies and Infirmities of Age. 'Tis that which animates Old Men with the same Vigour as it doth the young. Here we again ought to li∣sten to Seneca, who when he was very Old, was wont to hear the Lessons of Sextus the Philosopher. The same was practis'd in imitation of him, by the Emperor Antoninus.

Behold, says he, this is the fifth Day that I frequent the Schools, and that I listen to a Philosopher, who Disputes from Eight a Clock. You may perhaps say, 'tis time indeed to Study in our younger years. And why not in

this Age? Is there any thing more ridiculous than to refuse Learning, because we have not Learn'd a long while before? Shall I be asham'd to go and meet a Philosopher? We ought to Learn while we are Ignorant, and according to the Pro∣verb, As long as we Live. Go, Lucillus, and make hast, for fear that it should happen to you, as to me, to be oblig'd to Study in your declining years; and make what speed you can, the rather because you have undertaken that which you will scarce Learn when you come to be Decrepit. But what advantage shall I gather, may you say? As much as you will endeavour for: What do you expect? No Man becomes Wise by Chance. Riches may come to us of themselves, Honours may be of∣fered to us, and we may be advanc'd to Employ∣ments and Dignities, but Vertue won't come and seek us; we must endeavour to find her, for she ne∣ver bestows her Blessings, but upon such as take Labour and Pains.

These are the Particulars which the Ancient Philosophers, and chiefly Epicu∣rus, have recommended to our serious Consideration, as the best means, not only to discover to us the surest way to true Happiness, but also to render it easie and pleasant.

CHAP. II. What sort of Pleasure it is that Epicurus Re∣commends as the End of a Happy Life.

TIS strange that the Word Pleasure should have blasted the Reputation of Epicurus, or, to make use of the Words of Seneca, That it hath given occasion for a Fiction; for it is certain that this word comprehends the honest Pleasures, as well as the loose and debauch'd. I say it is certain; for Plato, Aristotle, and all the other Ancient Philosophers, as well as their Disciples, speak in express words, that amongst the Pleasures, some are Innocent, others Impure; some are of the Mind, others are of the Body; some true, others false.

We Be∣lieve, saith Aristotle, that Pleasure ought to ac∣company Happiness. And as it is confess'd, that amongst the operations that are agreeable with Vertue, such as proceed from Wisdom are more Pleasant than the rest, therefore Wisdom seems to contain Pleasures that are pure, admirable, and fix'd. There is a Delight, saith Cicero, in seek∣ing after great and hidden things, and when there appears something of resemblance, the Mind is fill'd with a sweet Pleasure. In the Discoveries of Nature there is an unsatiable Pleasure, and those who delight in pursuit hereof, neither regard oft-times their Health, nor their Fortune; they suf∣fer all things, being Captivated with the love of Knowledge and Understanding, and with great labour they pay for the Pleasure they acquire by Learning. We read also in the Holy Scriptures, that God himself in the beginning Planted a Gar∣den or Paradise of Pleasure; that the Blessed shall

be filled with the Fatness of his House, and drink of the Rivers of his Pleasures.

I mention this, only because some imagin that this word Pleasure cannot nor ought not to be taken but in an ill sense. There∣fore when Epicurus saith that Pleasure is the chief End, they fancy that he cannot and ought not to be un∣derstood but of sordid and forbidden Pleasures. So that when we say, or when they read that there have been some Philosophers who were called Vo∣luptuous, they presently take Epicurus for their Chieftain, or Leader.

But let us examine this Business from the bottom, and first let us begin with the Accusation which they bring against him. And as amongst those who allow other Pleasures than of the Body, there are some that will have what he saith to be under∣stood only of Bodily Pleasures; let us weigh his own words as they are found in Laertius, for there he expresseth his Mind, and declares plainly what that Pleasure is which ought to be the End of our Life, and the Chief Good. The End of an Hap∣py Life, saith he, is nothing else but the Health of the Body, and the Tranquility of the Soul, 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉. Because all our Actions aim and tend to this End, that we may be free from Pain and Trouble, 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉. And because this End he stiles by the Name of Pleasure, some took occasion from thence to scandalize him, saying, that hereby he understood the mean and sordid Plea∣sures of the Body. Therefore he makes his own Apology, and clears himself from this Calumny, by declaring plainly what kind of Pleasure he means, and what not; for after having made it his main business to recommend a Sober Life, which is sa∣tisfied with plain Food, and easie to be got, you shall hear what he saith next. When we say that

Pleasure is the main End, we mean neither the Plea∣sures of Debauchery, nor the other sensual Delights, which terminate in the very moment of enjoyment, and by which the Senses are only gratified and pleased; as some ignorant Persons, and who are not of our Opinion, or who being enviously bent against us do thus Interpret. But we only understand this 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉, To feel no pain in the Body, and to have no trouble in the Soul; for 'tis not the Pleasure of continual Eating and Drinking, nor the Pleasure of Love, nor that of Rare Dainties, and de∣licious Bits of large and well-furnish'd Tables, that make a Pleasant Life; but a sound Judgment, assisted by Sobriety, and consequently by a serenity and tranquility of Mind, which throughly enquires into the Causes why we ought to embrace or avoid any thing; and that drives away all mistaken Opinions, or false Notions of things, which might raise much perplexity in the Soul. I might add another Passage which I shall only men∣tion, Venereorum usus nunquam prodest, praeclareque agitur nisi etiam noceat. That the Delights of Venus are not only unprofitable, but it is very rare if they be not mischievous. But this ingenuous and plain Declaration of his meaning is suf∣ficient to justifie him from the slanderous Accusa∣tions of his Enemies. Let us nevertheless take no∣tice of the difference and contrariety, that Laertius puts between Epicurus, and Aristippus; for this difference or antithesis shews clearly that Epicu∣rus believed no other Pleasure to be the End, but that which consists in a constant Repose, namely a freedom from pain of Body, and trouble of Mind. But Aristippus would have it consist in that Pleasure of the Body, which is chiefly Communicated to us by action, or by which our Senses are actually plea∣sed and gratified. This contrariety, I say, disco∣vers Epicurus's Opinion to have been misrepresented,

and taken in a wrong sense, such as Aristippus's deserved. So that all the Reproaches that were due to Aristippus, have been cast by this mistake upon Epicurus, and the other hath escap'd un∣blemish'd.

The Famous Dispute of Torquatus in Cicero, plain∣ly discovers this Truth; Hear his words.

I will explain, saith Torquatus, what that Pleasure is, that I may prevent all cause of mistake in them, who understand not the matter, and that I may make them apprehend that this Doctrin which they fancy to be loose and debauch'd, is Grave, Chast, and Regular. We do not pursue that Pleasure, which gratifies Nature with a little seeming sweetness, and that is relish'd by the Senses with a haut-gust. But we esteem that to be the chief Pleasure, that is taken without any sense of Pain; for as Thirst and Hunger are al∣layed by Eating and Drinking, this deliverance, freedom or privation from that, which is trouble∣som and uneasie, causeth Pleasure; so in all other things a deliverance from Pain begets Pleasure. Epicurus therefore admits of no Medium between Pain and Pleasure; for he maintained, that what appear'd to some to be a Medium, namely, the privation from all Pain, was not only a Pleasure, but the chief Pleasure. In truth, he that rightly understands himself, and knows what ails him, or what Condition he is in, he must needs be either in Pleasure, or in Pain. Now Epicurus was of Opinion, that the chief Pleasure consisted in a privation from all Pain, and by Consequence, that Pleasure may be diversified and distinguished, but not augmented, and encreas'd.

We might here produce some Witnesses of this matter. Certainly Seneca may be heard and cre∣dited before all others, as being without doubt a

Person of great worth, unspotted Reputation, of an Exemplary Life and Manners, and addicted to a Sect which had chiefly drawn upon Epicurus all the shame and disgrace that is commonly cast upon him instead of Aristippus, being thereunto encou∣raged by the evil sense and meaning that they have given to his words.

According to Epicurus, saith Seneca, there are two Advantages required to the compleating the Sovereign Good, or Chief Happiness of Man. The First is, That the Body may be without Pain. The Second, That the Mind may be calm and sedate: These advan∣tages don't increase, if they be compleat; for how can that which is full increase? When the Body is free from Pain, what can be added to that Freedom? when the Mind enjoys it self, and is quiet, what may be added to this Tranquility? Like as the Serenity of the Heavens is perfect, and can't admit of any other new degrees of Light, when it is absolutely clear, and without the least shadow or mist: Thus the Condition of Man is perfect, when he hath taken care of his Body and Soul, making his chief Happiness to consist in the advantages of both together in a Freedom from all trouble of Mind, and from all pain of Body; for we may then say, that such a Man is arrived to the full accomplishment of all his Desires. And if beside all this, there happens to him an additional Repose, it don't increase his chief Good, but it only seasons it; for this compleat Happiness, the perfection of the Human Nature, is comprehended in the quiet of the Body, and the Mind.

In which words we may take notice, that Seneca expresseth clearly and plainly Epicurus's Opinion, as it is related by La∣ertius.

Moreover, because that Epicurus gave the Name of Chief Good, or Compleat Happiness to a free∣dom from Bodily Pain, and a perfect Tranquili∣ty of Mind, the loose and Debauched Persons of his time took incouragement from thence, mista∣king the word Pleasure, and boasting, that they had a Philosopher to countenance their Debauche∣ries. For this Reason Seneca argues with them in this manner in his Book of a Happy-Life. 'Tis not Epicurus that forces or perswades them to Luxury and Debauchery, but being accustomed to these Vices, they endeavour to conceal their Vices under the Covert of Philosophy, and they flock together when they hear Plea∣sure mentioned with Praise. Non ab Epicuro impulsi luxuriantur, sed vitiis dediti luxuriam suam in Phi∣losophiae sinu abscondunt, & eo concurrunt ubi au∣diunt laudari Voluptatem.

Without doubt it is not the Pleasure of Epicurus which is esteem'd and sought after; I know how sober and in∣nocent that Pleasure is. But they skip at the Name of Pleasure, seeking some protection and veil from their Lasciviousness, and filthy Delights. Nec aestimatur Voluptas illa Epicuri (ita enim me Hercules sentio quam sobria ac sicca sit) sed ad nomen ipsum ad∣volant, quaerentes libidinibus suis patrocinium ali∣quod ac velamentum. My Opinion, saith he again, is, (for I will speak it in despight of the Vulgar) The things that Epicurus teacheth are fair and just, and have something of solid, and serious, if we consider them exactly; for his Pleasure is reduc'd to very few things. He prescribes to it the very same Rules that we do to Vertue, and appoints it to be Obedient to Na∣ture, which is easily contented. Mea quidem senten∣tia (invitis hoc nostris popularibus dicam) Sancta Epicurum & recta praecipere, & si propius accesse∣ris, tristia. Voluptatibus enim illa ad parvum &

exile revocatur, & quam nos Virtuti Legem dicimus, eam ille dicit Voluptati. Jubet illam parere Naturae; Parum autem est Luxuriae quod Naturae satis est.

Will you then understand what it is? He that saith that the Happiness of Life consists in Idleness, in Good Cheer, in Ease and Wanton Pleasures, and calls that Happiness, seeks a good Excuse to an evil Cause, and when he comes flattering himself with the softness of the Name, he follows not that Pleasure which he hears Praised, but that which he brings with him; and when once he begins to believe his Vices to be consistent with the Doctrines professed, he freely adheres to them, no longer disguising and acting them in secret, but boldly and openly proclaiming them to the World.

Thus he concludes, I don't say what many don't scruple to affirm; That the Sect of Epicurus is the en∣courager of infamous Crimes, and lewd Debaucheries. But this is what I say, it is ill spoken of I confess, but without Cause, and this cannot easily be discovered, but by more narrowly prying into the very first grounds of their Opinions. The meer name of Pleasure occasions the mistake, and casts an odium upon it. Itaque non dico, quod plerique nostrum, Sectam Epicuri flagi∣tiorum Magistram esse, sed illud dico, male audit, infamis est & immerito; neque hoc scire quisquam potest nisi interius fuerit admissus; Frons ipsa dat lo∣cum Fabulae, & ad malam spem invitat.

We may after the Testimony of Seneca, bring that of Plutarch, who tho' he was an Enemy of Epi∣curus, yet he hath done him so much right, as to say, That the things that were objected against him ra∣ther proceeded from vulgar Mistakes, than from the Truth of the matter. Besides, in another place he merrily cries out upon the Pleasure of Epicurus, and his Disciples, O the vast Pleasure and Felicity

that there is in being insensible either of Sorrow or Pain! Elsewhere he saith, Tho' Epicurus placeth the Sove∣reign Happiness in a perfect Rest, and as it were in a Center of Quiet, &c. And in another place, That young Persons will learn from Epicurus, that Death doth not so much affect us, that the Riches of Nature are limited, that Felicity and a Happy-Life don't con∣sist in abundance of Silver, or in Large Possessions, in Dominion, or in Power, but in a freedom from Pain, in the Government of our Passions, and in that Dispo∣sition of the Mind, which confines all things within the limits of Nature. From hence it is evident that the chief Happiness of Epicurus is not that Pleasure which is in Motion, or in the pleasing of our Sen∣ses, but rather that which is and appears in Rest, in a freedom from trouble.

We might here farther add the Testimonies of Tertullian, of St. Gregory Nazianzen, of Ammonius, of Stobeus, of Suidas, of Lactantius, and of many others amongst the Ancients, who tho' being no entire Friends of Epicurus, yet some of them have declared, that the Pleasure that Epicurus recommends was nothing else, but a peaceable State agreeing with Nature, and not a mean and sordid Pleasure. Others have said, That between Epicurus and Aristippus there was this difference; that Aristippus placed the chief Happiness in the Pleasure of the Body, but Epicu∣rus in that of the Mind. Others, That the Pleasure which the Disciples of Epicurus propose to themselves for their End, certainly is not a sensual and a Bodily Pleasure, but a quiet Temper of the Soul, which is in∣separable from a Vertuous and an Honest Life. Others, as Lactantius, after he had abated of the warmth of his Stile, he saith, That Epicurus maintains the chief Happiness to be in the Pleasures of the Mind, and Ari∣stippus in that of the Body.

I speak of the Ancients within these two hun∣dred years; that is to say, towards the end of the ignorant Ages; we have amongst others John Ger∣son, and Gemistus Pletho, that speak and verifie the same. The first having mentioned divers Opinions concerning Happiness, declares, that some are of Opinion that Man's Happiness consists in the Pleasures of the Mind, or in a peaceable Tranquility of Spirit, such as was that of Epicurus, mentioned often by Sene∣ca, in his Epistles, with very much respect. But, as to the other Epicurus, quoth he, Aristippus, Sardanapa∣lus, and Mahomet, who placed it in the Pleasures of the Body, they were no Philosophers. Here we must pardon the ignorance of that Age, and the common vogue, if he hath imagined that there have been two of that Name. The second Named Ge∣mistus Pletho, Treating of the Delight of Contem∣plation, shews, That Aristotle, never taught any other Doctrin than that of Epicurus, who placed the Chief Happiness in the Pleasures of the Mind. Now it is not without Reason that I have insinuated, that since these Men, there hath sprung up an Happier and a more Learned Age, that have revived Learn∣ing, that lay almost Languishing; for since that time an infinite number of knowing Men are risen up, who have entertained better thoughts of that Philosopher, as Philelphus, Alexander ab Alexandro, Volateranus, Johannes Franciscus Picus, and many more.

What shall we say then to those who Charge him with a contrary Opinion? Nothing else but what hath been spoken in the Apology of his Life, namely, that the Stoicks who very much hated him for Reasons there expressed at large, have not only misunderstood his Opinion, but they have also for∣ged and publish'd in his Name scandalous Books, whereof they themselves were the Authors, that

they might the more easily gain credit to their Ma∣licious Insinuations, and fasten upon him their Ca∣lumnies without suspicion. Now one of the Causes of their hatred against him was, that Zenon their Principal Leader was naturally melancholy, austere, rude, and severe, and his Disciples following their Guide, affected the same Air, and a severe Meen. This hath caused the Vertue of the Stoicks or their Wisdom to be represented as some very austere and reserved thing; and in regard that caused them to be admired and respected by the Common-Peo∣ple, and that we suffer our selves willingly to be carried away to vain-glory, and to be puft up with Pride, if we don't take great heed to prevent it, they fancied themselves to be the only possessors of Wisdom; and therefore they boasted that he alone was the Wiseman, whose Soul was strengthned and fortified with the Vertue of the Stoicks, that he alone was fit to be a King, a Captain, a Magi∣strate, a Citizen, (for such were their Expressions) an Orator, a Friend, Beautiful, Noble, and Rich. And that such a one never repents, is not touch'd with Remorse, cannot receive Affronts, is ignorant of nothing, never doubts of any thing, is free from Passion, is always at Liberty, full of Joy and Con∣tent, like God himself, and several other qualities they ascribe to him; which caused Plutarch to re∣proach them in these words. The Stoicks have taught some things far more ridiculous than the Poets. But Epicurus on the contrary was of a sweeter and more candid Temper, and as he acted with sincerity and plain-dealing, he could not endure this vanity and ostentation. So that when he consider'd be∣sides the weakness of our Human Nature, and what it was capable of undergoing, and what not, he quickly understood that all those great boastings which made such noise in the Schools of the Stoicks,

were but vain Fictions, when the Glory and the Pride of their words were removed; therefore he proposed to himself a Vertue that he knew our Human Nature capable of. And because he observ'd that Men in all their Proceedings were naturally carried to some Pleasure, and after he had well in∣quired into all the several kinds of Pleasure, there was none more Universal, more firm, more con∣stant, and more desirable, than that which consists in the Health of the Body, and the Tranquility of the Mind; he therefore declared, that to be the chief End of all Delights, and that Vertue alone was the best means to obtain it, and consequently, that a Wise or a Vertuous Man, did by his Sobriety and Chastity, that is to say, by the Vertue of Tem∣perance, preserve the health of his Body, as far as his Natural Constitution would permit; and that being assisted by Moral Vertues, by which he appeaseth the Passions of Lust, Gluttony, Covetous∣ness, and Ambition, he endeavours chiefly to pre∣serve likewise as much as he is able the Tranquility of his Thoughts. At the same time he also maintain'd, that true Pleasure was not to be found in the Act, or in the Motion, as Aristippus imagin'd, but in statu, in a state or manner of existing, without Pain in the Body, and disquiet in the Mind, as we have al∣ready often declared heretofore. And this was his plain and simple manner of acting; he cared not to obtain the reputation of the Vulgar by a glossy Rhetorick, or by a Majestick Deportment, that express'd a great deal of Vanity in Manners, as Ze∣non did, nor did he deceive the People, as the other did with a vain ostentation of things, which takes much with them, tho' they neither understand them, nor can practise them.

Now Zenon and the Stoicks understanding this simplicity of Manners and Doctrin, and seeing that

many Men of Parts were undeceived, and made no account of their great and glorious words and pro∣mises, conceived so great a prejudice against him, that they sought always how to defame him, taking occasion from the word Pleasure, and affirming that he thereby understood sensual and debauch'd Plea∣sure and Excess.

We are not therefore too easily to assent to what they say, nor too readily give credit to the Report of others, who being imposed upon by their Mi∣stakes, have exclaim'd against him. But if some honest Men have been guilty of this Error, it is to be supposed, as Seneca observes, that they never knew the inside of this Sect, but had only some for∣ged Books, or believed the Stoicks, his Enemies; or perhaps tho' they understood his Opinion, they believ'd nevertheless that it was not easie to unde∣ceive the People, as it was convenient to continue their Clamours against this Philosopher, that they might declare thereby their hatred to Vice, and Sensual Pleasures, by exclaiming against their sup∣posed Protector and Incourager.

For the Holy Fathers of the Church as they de∣sign'd nothing but Piety and good Manners; they have furiously declaim'd not only against all filthy and bruitish Pleasures, but also against their Patrons and Protectors. And because the Report was al∣ready spread abroad, that Epicurus was the Chief, they have treated him according to the common mistake. So that it is not their fault, that he has been Scandaliz'd, for he was so before, and what they did, was only, as we have already hinted, to give a greater abhorrence of Vice, and of sordid and sensual Pleasures. This is so certainly true, that some, such as Lactantius, who being otherwise provok'd against Epicurus, have nevertheless retract∣ed their former Opinion. And St. Jerom amongst

the rest, writing against Jovinian, places not Epicurus amongst them, who commonly say, Let us Eat and Drink, &c. but looks upon him in another manner, than the common Report. It is wonderful, saith this great Saint, that Epicurus, the great Pa∣tron of Pleasure, fills his Books with nothing but Herbs and Fruits, affirming that the plainest Food is the best, because Flesh, and other dainty Dishes require a great deal of care and trouble to be fitted for our use, and that there is more Pains in seeking them, than Pleasure in abusing them; that our Bodies have no need but of plain Meats and Drinks, that where there is Bread and Water, and such like Necessaries, we may thereby ea∣sily satisfie Nature, but what is over and above is need∣less, and tends to gratify our Lust; that our Eating and Drinking is not for Delight, but to expel Hunger and Thirst; that Wisdom is inconsistent with the labo∣rious toil of procuring good Chear; that Nature's De∣sires are soon satisfied, and that by moderate Diet and plain Apparel we expel Cold and Hunger.

There is but one passage more that may seem to create some difficulty. It is that which Cicero ob∣jects, as being taken out of the Book wherein Epi∣curus's Ends and Designs are described; for he makes him say, That if we take away Bodily and Sen∣sual Pleasures, he knows no other good. But why may we not easily suppose that the Stoicks, who have been so bold to forge whole Books, and make Epi∣curus their Author, have maliciously put this Passage in his Book, and it being thus abused and falsified, it is come into the hands of Cicero, and Atheneus? That which makes us suspect this is, First, That Laertius, who hath left us a Catalogue of Epicurus's Books, and consequently ought to know what was in them, when he relates a passage out of his Book of The End, and others of the same, saith, That they are Fools that impose such things upon Epicurus,

for they are not to be found in the true Copies. And Hesichius assures us that they are gross Lyars, that assert any such thing of him. Secondly, Epicurus himself complains of their making him speak those words which were against his Judgment, and his Disciples would never acknowledge that passage; but they have rather always complain'd of it, and exclaim'd against it. Thirdly, These words are expresly contrary to those, which are known to be of Epicurus, Res Venereae nunquam prosunt, & multum est ni noceant, as we have already observ'd. Fourth∣ly, That Cicero amongst these Objections that he makes, cannot but propose this Question, as if Truth himself had forced him to it; What, do you believe that Epicurus was of this Perswasion, and that his Opinions were dishonest, sensual, and lewd? For my part I can't believe it; for I find, that he declares a great many excellent things, and very vertuous. Fifthly, That Cicero acknowledges, as he was a very Popular Man, that he did not tie up himself to speak according to the strict Opinions of the Philosophers, but agreeable with the Notions of the People. Verum ego non quaero nunc quae sit Phi∣losophia verissima, sed quae Oratori conjuncta maxime: Not to say that he could not bar himself from speaking well of Epicurus, as being a Man without Malice, or rather a right honest Man. Venit Epicu∣rus Vir minime malus, vel potius Vir optimus. And when he speaks of the Epicureans, he saith, that they are very good Men, that he hath never met with a sort of Persons less malicious; that the Epicureans complain of his endeavouring to speak ill of Epicurus; that whole Crowds of Epicureans came frequently to visit him, but that nevertheless he doth not despise them. Quos tamen non aspernor; These are his own words.

Wherein Epicurus, and Aristippus differ.

NOW that we may see exactly in what Epicu∣rus differs from Aristippus, we need but Ex∣amin Laertius. They differ, saith he, First, in Re∣lation to the word Pleasure, in that Epicurus ascribes it not only to that which proceeds from present action, and the immediate gratification of the Senses, but like∣wise to that, which he saith is settled firm and abiding, and is found in that sweet Repose which he Names 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉, Tranquility, and a freedom from Pain; whereas Aristippus ascribes it to that only which proceeds from action, laughing at that Tranquility, and Exemption from Pain of Epicurus, which is like the Condition of a Sleeping or a Dead Man. They differ therefore in this, that Epicurus hath placed the End or the Happiness of Man in that Pleasure that is in a continuing state, in statu, or in duration; but Aristippus in that which is in motion, in motu, transient. Epicurus places it in that of the Mind, but Aristippus in that of the Body. Epicurus amongst our Pleasures reckons the remem∣brance of past advantages, and the expectation of those which are to come; but Aristippus values them as nothing. But as we have before mention'd, these Particulars, so we shall at present hint but two things to you. First, That when Atheneus declares that not only Aristippus, but also Epicurus and his Disciples declared for the Pleasure that is transient and flitting; this relates to that Scandal, which hath caused some to believe that Epicurus was of the same Opinion as Aristippus, and which according to the Expressions of Atheneus, belong to Aristippus properly. These are his words, Aristippus, saith he,

being wholly addicted to the Pleasures of the Senses, judges those Pleasures to be the End and Happiness of Life, and making no account of former Enjoyments, nor of the expectation of any to come; he knows no ad∣vantages, but such as are present, as the most Debauched Persons do; and as those, who are immerged in De∣lights. And his Life was answerable to his Doctrin, for he spent it wholly in Luxury, and the great ex∣pences that he was at for that purpose; he never dissembled, nor offered to excuse, but answer'd in a pleasant manner jesting, I enjoy Lais, but she don't enjoy me; I live Sumptuously, but if that were Crimi∣nal, it would not be so much practised in the Festivals of the Gods. I give fifty Drachms for a Partridge, for which thou wouldst not spare a Half-penny: I buy a Dainty Bit dear, for which thou would'st grudge to bestow three half-pence. I have not therefore so great a fancy for Pleasure, as thou hast for thy Mony.

The Second thing that we must here take notice of, is, that these words of Seneca, I shall never call an exemption from Pain Happiness, which a Worm, a Bird, or a Flea enjoys, &c. cannot nor ought to be understood of an exemption from Pain, or the Plea∣sure that Epicurus places in a setled Rest, for that thereby he never understood a Lazy Life, or a Rest like that of a Drone, or of a Worm, but such a Life as Seneca himself praiseth, and highly esteems, when he saith, why may not that Rest in which he will dispose and settle the Ages to come, and will give Instructions to all Men, as well to them that are as shall be, be convenient for an Honest Man? or when speaking particularly of Epicurus, he saith, Nor is that Person, of whom we are wont to speak hard∣ly, for maintaining a soft and idle Pleasure, but for such as is consistent with Reason. As if he should describe it like that which Aristotle represents proceeding

from a Life of Contemplation, or that State of Rest and Tranquility which is employ'd in Specu∣lation, and Meditation, and therefore ought not to be call'd Idleness, and Laziness; for Contemplation is such an action, which alone does compleat the Divine Felicity. Besides, the same Aristotle de∣clares, action is not in motion, but that there is some in Repose, and that Pleasure consists rather in a Repose, than in Motion.

And what Seneca asserts speaking of Pleasure, that it chiefly consists in action is much to the pur∣pose. This Pleasure, saith he, is extinguish'd when the Delight appears in its greatest strength; it is soon accomplish'd, it soon passeth over, and becomes te∣dious after its first impress. Now that which comes and passeth away so speedily, and perisheth in the use, and in the very act, hath neither substance, solidity, nor duration, but ceaseth the same moment that it ap∣pears, and in the very beginning it looks to the end, and perisheth.

'Tis true, what Plato speaking of this Concern maintains, that it may as well be stiled Pain as Pleasure, because as it is a Pleasure to pass from Pain to this; so it is Pain and Grief to fall from Pleasure into the same. Nor is it near so grievous, to cease from the enjoyment of Pleasure in case no Pain succeeds, as it is grateful to cease from being tor∣mented with Pain, tho' no Delight follows; there∣fore this State is reckon'd to be a State of Plea∣sure, rather than of Grief. This is the meaning of Torquatus in Cicero. I suppose that when Pleasure is removed, nothing immediately succeeds that is uneasie, unless by accident Pain follows after that Delight. On the contrary, we rejoyce to be deliver'd from Pain, tho' none of those Pleasures which gratifie the Senses succeed; from whence we may inferr, what a great Pleasure it is to be free from Pain.

But let us listen to Seneca, who esteems this State of Life to be not only a Pleasure, but even the chief Happiness of Man.

The Condition and Satisfaction of a Wise Man, ac∣cording to Epicurus's Opinion.

THE Wise-Man, saith Seneca, is he, who like the Gods lives pleasant and easie, with∣out trouble or discontent. Now examin your selves, if you are not often dejected, froward, and at some times transported with too violent Expectations, and earnest Desires, which render you uneasie. If your Mind continues always Day and Night in the same even temper, equal in re∣spect of it self, always exalted and content; If so, you may then say, that you are arrived to the most accomplish'd pitch of Happiness that Men are capable of. But if you are still in pursuit of all sorts of Pleasures, and seek them every where, know that in such a case you want as much Wis∣dom as content. You desire to attain this Chief Happiness, but you are deceived, if you expect to procure it by the means of Riches; if you seek Delight amongst Honours, 'tis to seek it amongst Cares and Troubles. That which you fancy will give you Pleasure, is the Origin and Cause of a thousand Torments. Pleasure and Content are the Universal desire of all Men; but they gene∣rally are ignorant of the Methods how to obtain such Content as may be fix'd and permanent. Some seek it in Feastings and Luxury, others in Riches and Great Offices and Dominion; others in the Favors and Smiles of their Dalilah's, others in a vain ostentation of their Learning and Parts,

which oftentimes stand the Soul in little stead. Their short-liv'd and deceitful Pastimes delude them, such as Ebriety, which for the seeming Pleasure of an hour, causeth many Months of real Sorrow and Trouble: Or the Applauses and Accla∣mations of the People, which we have already purchased by much unquietness, and which will not fail to draw upon us as much more. Remem∣ber therefore that a Wise-Man ought to procure to himself such a satisfaction of Mind as is always firm, constant, and equal. His Soul ought to be like that part of the World above the Moon, where a continual Serenity reigns. You have reason therefore to endeavour to be Wise, seeing the Wise-Man is always full of Content. This satisfaction proceeds from his own Conscience, and from his knowledge of being a vertuous Man. It is impossible to enjoy this quiet, unless we be Just, Magnanimous, and Temperate. But what, will you say, Don't Fools and Wicked Men re∣joyce? No more than Lyons, when they have found a Prey. When such have spent the Night in Debauchery, when they have gorged them∣selves with Wine, and consumed their strength in the Converse of Women, and that their Sto∣machs can no longer contain the quantity of Meats they have devoured, they may then well cry out, What miserable Wretches are we? We now plainly perceive that this Night hath been spent in vain and deceitful Pleasures.

Nám{que} ut supremam falsa inter gaudia noctem Egerimus, nosti—

The Joys and Pleasures of the Gods, and of those that imitate 'em, are never interrupted, and

never have an end. Their satisfaction would fail, if it came from without. That which Fortune ne∣ver gave, it can never take from us.

That the Pains and Pleasures of the Mind are greater than those of the Body.

THE last difference that Laertius puts be∣tween Epicurus and Aristippus is, that as Ari∣stippus esteems the Pains of the Body greater and more troublesom than those of the Mind, he suppo∣ses likewise the Pleasures of the Body much greater and more considerable than those of the Mind; whereas Epicurus is of a contrary Opinion.

In the Body, saith he, we can feel only things present, but the Mind can be sensible of things past, and to come. 'Tis manifest, that a great degree of Pleasure, or an extream Affliction of the Mind con∣tributes more to an happy or to an unhappy Life, than much Pleasure, or much Pain of the Body. If the painful Diseases of the Body imbitter the sweetness of our Lives, those of the Mind ought to render it much more unhappy. Now the Prin∣cipal Distempers of the Mind, are the greedy ex∣travagant Desires of Riches, of Glory, of Domi∣nion, of Sordid and Unlawful Pleasures: More∣over the Disturbances, Gripings and Sorrows that overwhelm the Mind, those anxious Cares that consume it, &c.

This seems to be what Ovid thought, when he upbraids us, because we can readily undergo the scorching heat of the Fire, the sharpnesess of Iron, and the trouble of Thirst, to free our selves from some Distempers of the Body, but to heal the Mind, which is of a far greater value, we scruple to suffer any thing.

Ʋt Corpus redimas, ferrum patieris & ignes, Arida nec sitiens ora lavabis aqua Ʋt valeas Animo quicquam tolerare negabis; At pretium pars haec Corpore majus habet.

And I suppose Horace had the same Fancy in the forementioned Passage.

—Nam cur Quae feriant oculos festinas demere, si quid Est animum differs curandi tempus in annum?

Truly as the Soul is infinitely more Noble than the Body, and according to the Opinion of Aristo∣tle, it alone makes up almost the entire Man; it must therefore necessarily be much more susceptible as well of the impressions of Good, of Pleasure and Delight, as of Evil, Trouble, and Disquietness. Besides, the Diseases of the Mind are so much the more dangerous than the Diseases of the Body, be∣cause these have signs to make us understand them, but the other are often concealed from us; for our Reason that ought to ponder them is disturb'd, and cannot make a right estimation. Therefore such as are Sick in Body seek a Remedy from Physick, but such as are Distemper'd in Mind, from Philosophy, yet will not obey its Directions. Again, amongst the Diseases of the Body, those are the greatest and the most dangerous of all, which cast us into a slumber, and are not felt by the Patient, as a Le∣thargy, the Falling-Sickness, and that burning Fever which causeth a Dilirium. Now there is scarce any Distemper of the Mind, but ought to be reckon'd of as dangerous a Consequence; and the rather, because they are not known to be what they are, and oftimes are covered over with a fair

shew and pretence of contrary Vertues; for Exam∣ple, Fury and Wrath, are stiled Courage; Fear and Cowardise, usurp the name of Prudence. In short, Discontent, which is a grief of the Mind, and a Di∣stemper which generally causeth the other Diseases to be more unpleasant, sad and troublesom, affects nothing more, than to seem to be taken and caused not without great Provocation and just Resentments. Neither are we to pretend with Aristippus, That Criminals are commonly punished with Pains and bodily Torments, as being more severe and uneasy to be undergone. For as the Legislator or the Judge, hath not the same power over the Mind, as over the Body, so it is as true, that he cannot appoint, that the Offender should be tortured in his Mind, but in his Body, that so a visible Punishment might be inflicted upon the Offender, whereby the People might be kept in stricter awe from Offending: But it follows not from thence, that there is no greater pain than that, or, that the pain of the Mind may not be a more grievous Torment.

Besides, when a Man is really under the actual sufferings of the Body, or when he supposes that he shall shortly be so, he fancies in his Mind, that he shall be tied to the Rack, or perhaps, that his Head shall be cut off; that he shall be broken upon the Wheel, or burnt at the Stake; that he shall lose his Life in sight of the World with publick Shame, and be accounted a perpetual Ignominy and Reproach to his Family and dearest Friends; and who cannot but be troubled at this? And can you imagin any torture of the Body (supposing it to be separa∣ted from all this) that can stand in competition with this inward kind of Grief and cruel Vexation of the Mind? And for this reason it is, that I have as∣serted, that the Pains and Torments are not direct∣ly appointed by the Judge, but are thereby indi∣rectly

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designed, to the end they might increase the former, and render the punishment more grievous. To this purpose, have we not seen, that the Threats and terrible apprehensions of Death, have changed the Hair of the Head into a hoary colour in one Night; have dried up the moisture of the Body, and have Killed several? This plainly shews, that the last and greatest Torment, is not that of the Body, but that of the Mind, &c.

I don't here recount the grief and disturbance of Mind, which Envy, Ambition, and the remorse of Conscience causeth in an evil Man, a Tyrant, or a∣mbitious Wretch; I will at present only insert what Juvenal, Horace, and Persius mention of it, as a greater Torment, than ever Caeditius, or Rhadaman∣tus ever invented.

Juv. Sat. XIII. Not sharp Revenge, nor Hell it self can find A fiercer Torment, than a guilty Mind, Which day and night do's dreadfully accuse, Condemns the Wretch, and still the Charge renews.

And Horace, Epist. 2. Lib. I. The fiercest Tyrants never yet could find A greater Rack, than Envy to the Mind.

And Persius, Sat. III. Great Father of the Gods, when for our Crimes, Thou send'st some heavy Judgment on the Times, Some Tyrant King, the Terror of his Age, The Type and true Vice-gerent of thy Rage; Thus punish him; set Vertue in his sight, With all her Charms, adorn'd with all her Graces bright. But set her distant, make her pale to see His Gains outvi'd by lost Felicity.

And, tho some pretend, that a wicked Varlet by his repeated Crimes and long accustomed habit in Villany, may attain at last to such an insensibility, as to have none of those ordinary Remorses, which rack the Minds of the cruellest Tyrant, and by that means may become Happy: And, besides, that the freedom from Remorse, makes not a Man Happy, I will farther add, That in the ordinary course of Life, this supposition is not only scarce to be found, as is easy to be proved, but altogether impossible; and, that there is no man, tho' never so much hardened in Wickedness, that can banish, or expel out of his Mind, this inward Executioner. Again, such a Wretch cannot be reckoned in the number of Men, but of Monsters, that are to be Strangled; and not only so, but in the number of Fools, because he hath lost his Sense and Reason, by brutishly expo∣sing himself to the Rage, if I may so say, and to the Fury of all Men, who abominate him, and look upon him as a Beast of Prey, or as a Tyrant, that deserves to be cut off.

Wherein Epicurus differs from the Stoicks.

LAertius takes also notice, in what Particulars Epicu∣rus differs in Opinion from the Stoicks, upon ac∣count of that irreconcilable hatred they bore him. He says, that Epicurus having declar'd, That Vertue is desirable for Pleasure's sake, they took this pretence to exclaim against him, as if he had spoken of sor∣did and sensual Pleasures; saying, That it is unwor∣thily spoken, and scandalous to maintain, That Vertue was not to be sought for it self, but for this sort of Pleasure. Amongst others, there was one named Cleanthes, who to heighten the matter, and render Epicurus more Odious, made this Picture, which Cicero objects to Torquatus.

Fancy to your selves,

(said he to his Disciples) Pleasure finely drawn, sitting upon a Royal Throne, shining in very splendid and magnificent Attire, attended by all the Vertues, standing about her as so many Ser∣vants, yet acting nothing else, nor performing any other Office, but to Advise and Whisper her in the Ear; Take heed that you commit nothing im∣prudently, and that might offend the Minds of Men, or from whence some Reluctance and Displeasure may proceed: We are the Vertues, born for to tender you this Service, and our Office is only to admonish you.

This is the Picture that the Envy and Jealousie of Cleanthes made of Epicurus's Pleasure. There want∣ed but one thing more, the saying of a certain Per∣son.

That Epicurus had imitated Paris, who of the three Goddesses, selected Venus, upon whom he be∣stow'd the Golden Apple. That Epicurus by Plea∣sure, had nothing else in prospect but mean and low Pleasures, such as a beautiful Face, Hair loosly spread, with Perfumes, gaudy Attire, and a wan∣ton Carriage and Behaviour, tending to all Soft∣liness and Effiminacy, to Lust, Lasciviousness and Debauchery,

Altera Achaemenium spirabat vertice odorem, Ambrosias diffusa comas, & veste refulgens Ostrum, quam fulvo Tyrium suffuderat auro; Fronte decor quaesitus acu, lasciva{que} crebras Ancipiti motu jaciebant lumina flammas.

Whereas, he ought to have imitated Hercules, who meeting with Pleasure and Vertue together, gave the preference to the latter, tho' Vertue appear'd to him with an austere Countenance, in a careless Undress, making her approach with a Masculine Aspect, accompanied with a becoming Modesty, as the Poet saith;

— Frons hirta, nec unquam Composita mutata coma, stans vultus & ore Incessu{que} viro propior, laetique pudoris.

That Vertue, (according to Epicurus) is essentially re∣lated to Pleasure, as it tends to the main end and de∣sign of an happy Life.

BUt there is no need that we should stop here to deface this Picture of Cleanthes, or busy our selves in discovering what Malice and Detraction have in∣vented. What hath been already spoken, may suf∣fice for that purpose; and the rather, because we have plainly made it appear, that the Pleasure meant by Epicurus, is not that soft, sensual, and debauch'd Pleasure represented in this Picture, but that which he intends, is quite contrary, Pure and Undefiled, viz. An Indolency of the Body, and the Tranqui∣lity of the Mind, but chiefly the latter. So that this kind of Pleasure cannot hinder any from seeking after Vertue, seeing that it is in this only that Felicity or Happiness of Life consists; and that Epicurus proposes no more than the Stoicks them∣selves do, who affirm, That Vertue is sufficient to pro∣cure a pleasant and a happy Life.

And truly this Maxim alone does sufficiently evince, That what Shift or Excuse soever they may seem to frame, yet they suppose Vertue designed for no other end, but to live well and happily. So, that an happy Life is desirable for it self; but Ver∣tue is not so much desirable for itself, as for an happy Life. Now, when I mention this nice Di∣stinction, I include Seneca himself, who makes Plea∣sure an accidental Companion only, or something that is casually incident to Vertue; like as a small Weed, which grows and flourisheth amongst Wheat. This

seems Popular and Taking. And we may truly compare Vertue to the Wheat; but as we seek and covet the Wheat, not simply for the sake of Wheat, nor for that small Weed that grows amongst it, but for the uses of Life that we expect from it: So Vertue is not sought after simply for it self, or for its own sake, or for any slight thing that may in∣tervene, but chiefly in order to Happiness, or which amounts to the same, for this kind of Pleasure that we now treat of. Therefore, when he adds, Thou art mistaken when thou askest, what that thing is which moveth us to seek after Vertue, for it is to ask for some∣thing above that which is the highest of all; I seek and desire Vertue it self; I desire it for it self; there is no∣thing better; it carries with it a sufficient Reward. It is manifest, that this Question is full and to the Purpose; and we may say, That when we desire something beyond Vertue, we don't desire a trivial thing, but something that is above the highest and Supream. It is true, that in order to all the means which are used to render Life happy, it is impossi∣ble to find any more conducive thereunto than Ver∣tue. Nevertheless, we are to esteem an happy Life above Vertue; for Vertue only relates to Happi∣ness, or an happy Life, as to its proper End.

And therefore Aristotle seems to be very exact in this point, when he speaks of that Happiness which Vertue above all things can procure.

Is is, saith he, evident, That the recompence or reward of Vertue, is something very Excellent, something Divine and Happy. And elsewhere, That Feli∣city is not a thing that happens to us by a Divine appointment alone, but is to be obtain'd by Ver∣tue, or by Learning, or by our Endeavours; there is nothing can be more Excellent, nothing more Happy. Besides, he makes this distinction with Plato and Architas. There are some things saith he, That are desirable for themselves, and not for

any thing else, as Felicity; and others are desired for something else, and not for themselves, as Riches; and other things, are desired for themselves, and for others, as Vertue.

This I instance on purpose that one may see what sort of Men may be opposed to Seneca, when he is so confident, that Vertue can∣not nor ought not to be desired for any thing else but it self. By this Opinion, we offer no wrong to Vertue; for just as much as we value Pleasure, Fe∣licity, and the chief Good, so much do we praise and esteem Vertue, which leads us to, and is the proper means of obtaining them.

But not to busy our selves any longer about this matter, it sufficeth to relate here what Cicero makes Torquatus speak according to the Sentiments of Epi∣curus. The Text is long, but excellent, and it explains and decides, as I may say, the whole Mat∣ter. When therefore after a long Dispute, it was concluded, That whatsoever is Right, Just, and Praise-worthy, tends to live Pleasantly, and with Delight, Torquatus continues thus to speak;

In regard therefore that this is the chief and supream Good, which the Greeks have called by the name of End, because it tends to no other thing, and that all things center in it; We ought to confess, that to live with delight and Pleasure, is the chief Good or Happiness. They who place it in Vertue alone, and whose Understandings are dazled with the glory of the Name, not rightly comprehending what Nature requires, may be freed from a gross Mistake, if they please to hearken to Epicurus; for to instance in all your laudable and excellent Vertues, and First, of Wisdom, Who can believe them to be Praise-worthy or desirable, if they pro∣cured no Pleasure? Truly, as we don't esteem the Art of a Physician for the Art sake, but for the Preservation of Health; so we should never

desire Wisdom, which is the Art of Living, if it were Insignificant and Useless: But as it drives us in the search, and helps us in the obtaining true and real Pleasure, we earnestly desire and pursue after it. You understand now what Pleasure I speak of; and lest the ambiguous acceptation of words should render our Discourse untelligible or doubtful, I must explain my self, That it is Wis∣dom alone that banisheth Sorrow and all uneasi∣ness of Mind, that supports us under our anxious Fears, that curbs the fury of our Lusts and Ap∣petites, and causeth us to live Peaceably and Easy. These are the unsatiable Appetites, that ruin not only every particular Person, but also Families, and oft-times the whole Common-wealth. From these Appetites proceed Hatred, Quarrels, Discords, Seditions, Wars. And these Passions break not only outwardly upon other Persons with a blind Fury, but struggle inwardly, and War within themselves in our Minds. It is this that must needs cause our anxi∣ous and uneasy Life. So that the Wise Man alone having banish'd all boundless and irregular Desires, confines himself, and is satisfied within the limits of Nature, and by that means may spend his time without Grief, Sorrow, or Fear. If therefore we see all our Life disturb'd by Error and Ignorance, and that it is Wisdom only which delivers from the Af∣fronts of our vain Desires, and groundless Fears, and that adviseth us to bear with Patience the in∣juries of Fortune, and teaches the ways that lead to Rest and Tranquility, ought we not to say, that Wisdom is desirable, because of Pleasure; and that we are to shun Folly, because of the Mischief which attends it, by bringing Trouble and Di∣sturbance to our Minds?

By the same Reason we will say, that Tempe∣rance is not desirable for it self, but because it

brings Peace into our Minds; it sweetens and pre∣serves them in quiet. Because 'tis Temperance that directs us to follow Reason, either in things that we ought to desire and follow, or things that we are to shun and avoid; for it is not sufficient to judge what ought to be, and what ought not to be, but we must likewise continue constant and resolved, in what we have so judged. Now, there are many who cannot remain firm in what they have resolved, but being overcome by a seeming and mistaken Pleasure, give themselves over to the slavery of their Lusts, without foreseeing what will from thence ensue; and from hence it hap∣pens, that for a small and trivial Pleasure, which might be otherwise obtain'd, and which we might easily want without Pain, they fall into great Sicknesses, into Loss, into Shame, and incur many times the penalty of the Laws and Courts of Judicature. But such as will so enjoy their Pleasures, that no inconveniency nor trouble may thereby ensue, and who continue constant in their well-grounded Resolutions, for fear of being overcome by false Pleasures, and lest they should be perswaded to do what they understand ought not to be done; such I say, find a great pleasure in denying themselves these seeming Delights. They oftentimes easily undergo small Pains and Troubles, lest by shunning of these, they might fall into greater. From hence we may learn, that Debauchery is not to be shunn'd for its own sake, nor Sobriety to be desired because it declines some Pleasures, but because it procureth greater and more substantial ones.

We shall find the same Arguments for Forti∣tude; for it is neither Labour, nor Pain, nor Pa∣tience, nor Constancy, nor Industry, nor Courage, nor Watchfulness, that draw us of themselves;

but we are perswaded by these actions, that we may live without Trouble or Fear, and that we might free our selves as much as is possible from that which incommodes either the Mind or the Body; for oftentimes the Calm of our Life is di∣sturb'd with the extraordinary fear of Death; and it is a miserable thing to be oppress'd with Pain, and to bear it with a mean and feeble Courage; insomuch, that by this weakness of Spirit, many have lost their Parents, many their Friends, and many their Native Country, nay, have altogether lost themselves. But a generous, stout and coura∣gious Spirit, is free from such Cares and Troubles, because it despiseth Death, and is so provided to receive Grief and Pain, that it knows the greatest are cur'd by Death, and the least have divers in∣tervals of Rest; and that as for moderate Griefs, we are Masters of them. Besides, a noble Spirit considers, that if the Pains be not extraordinary, they are easily suffered; but if they be very grie∣vous, we shall then willingly surrender and quit our Life, which in such a case, becomes unpleasant to us; so that we leave it in the same manner as we go off a Theatre. From hence we may con∣clude, that Fear and Cowardise are not in them∣selves blame-worthy; neither do Courage and Pa∣tience of themselves, merit Praise. But the first are slighted, because they increase Pain and Sor∣row, and the other are desired, because they pro∣cure real Pleasure.

There remains nothing else to be examin'd but Justice, of which we may almost say the same. For as I have already demonstrated, that Wisdom, Temperance and Fortitude, are so joyned with Pleasure, that they cannot be separated from it, we ought to say the same of Justice, which is not only inoffensive to all Men, but does also constant∣ly

bring with it such advantages, as by the strength of its own nature, does quiet and settle the Thoughts, by affording continual hopes of never wanting those things which an honest Mind may desire. And as Timerousness, Covetousness, and Cowardise do perpetually torment the Mind, and are continually vexing and disturbing its quiet: So where Injustice bears sway in the Soul, it be∣gets much Trouble and Vexation; and if it hath committed any evil action, tho' never so secretly, yet it can never be assured that it shall always re∣main undiscover'd. Jealousy and fear of being found out, do commonly attend evil Actions, and we suppose every one to be our Accuser, and rea∣dy to Inform against us. Nay, some out of fear of being Discovered, have been their own Accu∣sers. If some think their Riches a sufficient shel∣ter, and capable of quieting their Conscience, yet they have such a dread of the Justice of God in punishing their Crimes, that upon a due resent∣ment of this, their Thoughts labour under a per∣petual Agony and Disturbance. Now, their wick∣ed Actions can never be able so much to lessen the anxiety of their Life, as the gripings of a Wounded Conscience, or the Laws of the Coun∣try, and the hatred of their Acquaintance, have to increase it. Nevertheless, such is the unsatiable desire of some Men after Riches, Luxury, Honour, Dominion, &c. that in the obtaining of them, they will stick at no indirect Means; so that nothing but a severe Punishment inflicted on them by the Laws, is able to stop their Career. True Reason therefore directs all Men of sound Judgment to observe the Rules of Justice, Equity and Fidelity, which are the best means to procure to our selves the good Esteem and Love of others, and which is abso∣lutely necessary to render our Lives Pleasant and Se∣date:

And the rather because hereby we have no temptation to do what is ill, because that the de∣sires which proceed from Nature may easily be appeased without doing wrong to any Person; and as for other vain Desires, we are not to re∣gard them; for they prompt us to nothing that is really worthy seeking after; and Injustice it self brings a greater damage to us than the recompence it can be able to make us, by the seeming good things it brings along with it. Therefore we cannot say, That Justice is of it self desirable, but only because it is attended with a great deal of Pleasure and Content; for we are not a little pleased with the esteem and good will of others, which renders our Life Comfortable and Pleasant. Thus we don't believe that we ought to shun Vice only because of the inconveniencies that fall upon the Wicked, but chiefly because it never suffers the Mind to be at rest, where it hath once taken pos∣session.

I might here mention the Objections that are brought against this Opinion, but they relate to no∣thing but sensual and dishonest Pleasures, which Epi∣curus abhors in express words. I will only take no∣tice, that the Pleasure that is here understood, is such true real and natural Pleasure, in which our Happiness consists. We therefore say, That Vertue is inseparably accompanied with it, being the real and genuine cause of it; for where that is suppo∣sed, Happiness immediately attends, and when that is removed, Pleasure it self must needs decay. In the same manner as the Sun is said to be inseparable from the Day, because it alone is the true and ne∣cessary cause thereof; for as soon as the Sun appears over our Horizon, the Day must needs be, and when it withdraws, the Day dis-appears. Now, the rea∣son

why Epicurus supposes Vertue to be the efficient cause of Happiness, is because he thinks that Pru∣dence doth as it were contain all other Vertues; for all the rest proceed from this, and have in a great measure a dependence upon her.

CHAP. III. Wherein an Happy Life doth consist.

WHat we have already discours'd of, tends to little else than to make a plain discovery of Epicurus's Opinion. But now we must come closer to the Matter, and strictly examin whether he had sufficient ground to say, That Pleasure is the main End.

Here we must weigh two of his chief Maxims, First, That all Pleasure is of it self and of its own nature a real Good; and on the contrary, That all Grief and Pain, is an Evil. The Second is, That notwithstanding sometimes we must prefer some sort of Pains before some sort of Pleasures.

Whether all Pleasure be good of it self?

IN respect of the first Maxim; It is not without ground, that Epicurus asserts, That all Pleasure is of it self good, tho' by accident it happens sometimes otherwise, for all Creatures are of themselves so in∣clinable to Pleasure and Delight, that it is the first and chief thing that they naturally covet; nor do they willingly reject any Pleasure that is offered them, unless it chance to be accompanied by some Evil that may after procure a Pain, and so cause us to repent of its first acceptance. And truly, as

it is the nature of Good, to invite and perswade the Appetite to love and embrace it, so we can give no Reason why all Pleasure should not be of it self Lovely, and to be desired, seeing there is none but in it self is pleasing and desirable, and which does of it self incline our Appetites. So that if we refuse any, we refuse them not as Plea∣sures, but because of some inconveniences that are annexed, and will infallibly attend them.

Now, to illustrate this more plainly by an Exam∣ple, There is no Person but will allow Hony to be naturally sweet; yet if Poyson happens to mixed with it, whereby the Poyson it self doth also be∣come sweet, we shall then have a real aversion for the sweetness of the Hony; but this is by acci∣dent; for the Hony of it self is naturally sweet and pleasing to our Taste. So that if we have any dis∣like, we may say it is not really for the sweetness of the Hony, but for the Poison that is mixt with it, and for the Mischief that Poyson will bring; for if it were separated from the Hony, we should then willingly taste of it. Now, adjust any Pleasure what∣soever to this Example, and you will easily per∣ceive it to be never otherwise; for we shall always eschew the Evil, but not the Pleasure it self, when distinct and separated from the Evil: For either it is the thing from whence it is taken, or the action that is joined to it, or the damage that ensue either from the thing, or from the action, or the pain and grief that will attend it, which proceed from the Thing, from the Action, or from the Damage.

And to make the matter still appear more obvi∣ous and intelligible. Suppose that the same Pleasure is to be drawn from a Thing or Action, that neither Law nor Custom, nor Honesty prohibit; suppose that from this Action or thing, no damage or pre∣judice will happen, either to our Health, Reputa∣tion,

or Estate: Suppose in a word, that no Punish∣ment will attend it, nor Grief, nor Repentance, neither in this Life nor the next: And you will plainly understand that nothing can hinder it to be esteem'd a real Good, and real Advantage; and if at present it is not so reputed, this proceeds not from the nature of the Thing, but from the Circum∣stances that I have mentioned.

Aristotle also proves the thing by an Argument taken from Pain, which is opposite to Pleasure: All the World (saith he) are agreed, that Pain is an Evil, and to be avoided. Now, that which is con∣trary to a thing that is to be avoided, and a real Evil, is good; therefore Pleasure is a real Good. Now; to inlarge upon this Reason of Aristotle; Is it not manifest, That all Pain in general, is of it self Evil and Hurtful, and by consequence every Ani∣mal hath naturally an aversion against it? So that if at any time it is called Good, it is only by acci∣dent, in regard it hath some good thing that is join∣ed to it, which obliges us to love and desire it. But if you remove from Pain all hopes or expectation of obtaining any good thing, either Honest, Profi∣table, or Pleasant, there is no Man so foolish as to wish for it, or seek after it. As this is undeniable, so it is apparent that if all Pain be of it self Evil, and not good but by accident, all Pleasure being contrary to Pain, is of it self good and an evil by Accident.

Some object, That a Temperate Man flies from Pleasures, and that he that is Wise, seeks rather a freedom from Pain. That there are some Pleasures which are impediments to Wisdom, and the rather because they are Violent and Furious, as all Vene∣real Pleasures generally are: That there are others which are not only hurtful, because they dull the Understanding, beget Diseases, and cause Poverty,

but are also filthy and infamous. But, First, The Temperate and Prudent Man, flies not from all Pleasures; for it is plain, That he seeks after such as are pure and honest; and if he avoids some, it is not because they are only Pleasures, but because inseparable from actions which are certainly at∣tended with Destruction, which a Prudent Tempe∣rate Man ought not to be guilty of for the enjoy∣ment of a present Pleasure. In the same manner as we fly from Poison sweetned, not because it is sweet, but because it is deadly, and brings a Mis∣chief with it, which undoubtedly ought not to be bought at so dear a rate. Besides, it is plain, That Pleasures alone are no impediments of Wisdom or Prudence, but rather the Actions that accompany them; such actions I mean by which the Spirits are too much spent, whereby the strength of the Mind is weakned, and the Judgment blinded. So, that when these Mischiefs are charged upon Pleasure, it is a Paralogism or deceitful way of Arguing, called by Aristotle, Non causae ut causae; when that which is not the Cause, is taken for the Cause; as if the Evil which ought to be ascrib'd to the Poison, be attributed to the Hony, or to the Sweetness. Thus by consequence, that which may be said in respect of Diseases and Poverty, and other inconveniences which commonly succeed, is that Pleasure simply consider'd as it is Pleasure, is not the cause of these Evils, but rather Gluttony, or the excess of Wine and Meats prepared with Sawces, which tempt us to exceed the Bounds of Moderation, whence pro∣ceed Fevers and other grievous Distempers. So also from the excess of Venery proceed the Disease of the Gout and other shameful Maladies, ac∣companied with a numerous Train of other Mis∣chiefs. Thus the same may be said in respect of the Infamy which we commonly ascribe to Pleasures;

for it rather regards the actions that accompany them, which are of themselves contrary to good Manners, and therefore are reputed Vicious and Dishonest for this reason; for Instance, The Laws prohibit not the pleasure in Adultery, but the acti∣on of Adultery it self, which being forbidden and infamous in it self, causeth the pleasure that it pro∣cures, to be esteem'd also filthy and infamous. But suppose in this case there were no prohibition, as in the Estate of pure Nature: Or, suppose that it happen'd, that the Wife of this Man, had been the Wife of the present Adulterer, here he had enjoyed the same Pleasure, which in that case had not been reckoned of ill Repute, because that action which accompanies it, had not been then forbidden nor dishonest. From whence we may conclude, That Pleasure is not blame-worthy in it self, but for the Circumstances that accompany it. Some answer, That tho' Pleasure be no Evil, yet it is necessary to place it in the number of the Evils, because of the Common People, who being inclin'd to Pleasure, ought like crooked Trees to be bent a contrary way, and by that means to be made strait. But Aristotle answers, That it is not convenient to en∣tertain them with these kind of Discourses, because when it concerns us, as in the case of the Passions and Actions, we give not so much credit to the Words as to the Thing it self. From whence it happens, that when the Words agree not with what the Sen∣ses apprehend, they are despised; and tho' they com∣prehend something that is good, yet they are there∣by baffled. Therefore Aristotle seems to intimate, That it is more reasonable not to place the Pleasures amongst the Evils, seeing the Senses are of a con∣trary persuasion; and when they are barely look'd upon as Pleasures, they approve of them, and judge them good; but it is more reasonable to discover

and lay open the Evils that frequently accompany such Pleasures, which cause a prudent and consider∣ing Man to abstain from them, lest he being tempt∣ed thereby, should be drawn into so great Mis∣chiefs.

If these Answers of Aristotle will not satisfie, no∣thing can hinder us from exclaiming against Plea∣sure it self, supposing those to be Pleasures which cause much more Evil, than they procure Good. For when it concerns us to persuade, it is the same thing, to say, That Pleasure, or the Action that ac∣companies the Pleasure, is Wicked, to conclude that we are therefore to shun it, by reason of the Evils which infallibly attend and proceed from both.

Whether the Opinion of the Stoicks in respect of Good and Evil, be Justifiable.

WE might here enter into a large Field of Di∣spute with the Stoicks, who pretend, That there is nothing Good, but that which is Honest; and nothing Evil, but that which is Dishonest. But hereby we should only trifle away our time in un∣necessary Disputes; for in short, it is manifest, that they have rais'd a Dispute about the bare Name, when at the same time they have limited and confi∣ned the thing it self, (viz. the Notion of Good) ac∣cording to their own Fancy, which all Mankind besides, take in a large Sense: For whereas, other Men place several things besides Vertues, in the number of good things, as Health, Pleasure, Glory, Riches, Friends, &c. And besides Vices, they reckon several other things amongst Evils, as Sickness, Pain, Shame, Poverty, Enemies, &c. The Stoicks have rather named these things Indifferent, or neither Good nor Evil. But this seems very ab∣surd

and contradictory, to take Health and Sickness, Pleasure and Pain, for the same things, &c. They have endeavoured to feign new Words, and call Health, Pleasure, Glory, and other things 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉, Promota, Assistants: As if they should say, that they were not really Good, but such things as did approach the nearest to Vertue, and lead us to that which is the chief and only Good. The same Fan∣cy they have had of Diseases and Pain; they have named them 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉, Abducta, remota: As if they should say, that they were things less Noble, and separated from Vertue; for when it concerns us to make a Choice, those are preferred, and these are forsaken. This is their way of Discourse, which I think not worth Answering any otherwise than as Cicero doth, when he cries out,

O the great strength of Mind, and the brave Subject, to raise a new Doctrin!

O magnam vim ingenii causam{que} ju∣stam cur nova existeret disciplina! The Stoicks argue, and with their weak Reasonings, would maintain, That Pain is no Evil; Concludunt ratiunculis Stoici cur dolor non sit malum, &c. As if Men were only troubled about the Word, and not the Thing. Wherefore must you Zeno, deceive me with your subtil Niceties, and new coin'd Words 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉 and 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉; for when you tell me that what looks grievous, is no Evil, you put me at a stand. I would desire to know how that which seems to me most prejudicial and hurtful, is no Evil in it self. Nothing is Evil, as you pretend, but that which is Dishonest and Vicious. These are but Words, neither can you hereby remove the diffi∣culty. I understand very well, that Pain and Grief are not criminal Evils. You need not trouble your self to tell me that; but shew me whether it be an indifferent thing to suffer Pain, or to be free from it. You say, That it is indifferent, as to the

Happiness of Life, seeing that consists in Vertue a∣lone: But in the mean while, what you call Pain, is to be reckoned amongst those things that you are to avoid, and by consequence is an Evil. When you pretend that Pain is no real Evil, but only some∣thing uneasie to be suffered, &c. It is to speak at large what all the World besides name in one word, Evil. And when you say, That there is nothing Good, but what is Honest, and nothing Evil, but what is Dishonest, it is to vanquish in Words, but not in Sense; it is to express Desires, and prove Nothing. Doubtless, this is an undeniable Truth; All that Nature hates, ought to be esteem'd in the number of Evils; and all that is grateful to it, is to be reck∣oned on the contrary.

Whether at any time Pain ought to be preferr'd before Pleasure.

THE Second thing to be Examin'd, before we conclude about Epicurus's Opinion, is, Whether we should sometimes avoid Pleasure to embrace Pain. This Question depends very much upon the former; for if any Pleasure offers it self of that sort which Plato calls Pure, and disengaged from any mix∣ture of Grief and Trouble; that is to say, such as is never to be succeeded by any future Pain, neither in this Life, nor in that which is to come; or if any Pain offers it self, such as may be stiled Pure, and free from any Pleasure, that is, such as can ne∣ver be supposed to yield any Satisfaction: No Man can give any reason why such a Pleasure ought not to be accepted, and such a Pain avoided. But if any Pleasure offer it self, which might hinder us from obtaining a greater, or which will be attended

by a Pain that may cause us to repent the suffering our selves to be drawn away to it; or if a Pain offers it self, which may turn away a greater, or which may be followed by a Pleasure very great, there is no Reason can persuade us the shunning such a Pleasure, and embracing such a Pain. There∣fore Aristotle observes, That Pleasure and Pain are the Criteria or distinguishing Marks by which we ought to judge, whether any thing is to be accepted or avoided. Now, any Wise Man will decline Pleasure, and embrace Pain, if he sees that Repen∣tance will follow, or that by admitting a little Pain, he may avoid a greater. But Torquatus plain∣ly clears the Doubt. And to the end we may easily see from whence the Mistake arises among those who accuse Pleasure, and approve of Pain, I will briefly tell you how it is, and expound unto you what that Author of Truth, and Encourager of an happy Life, hath said. No Man despises, hates, or shuns Pleasure, because it is Pleasure, but because that such as know not how to pursue Pleasure, and keep it within its due bounds, fall into great Mischiefs. Nay, there is none that loves and seeks after Pain, because it is Pain, but because it happens sometimes, that by Labour and Pain we procure to our selves some great Pleasure: As to instance in some Particulars; Does ever any Man undertake any laborious Exercise or Task of the Body, unless he expects to reap some Advantage by it? Now, can any body reasonably blame him who embraces a Plea∣sure that is not accompanied with any Inconveniency, or him that flees from a Pain that can procure no Ad∣vantage? But we justly blame and condemn those, who being enticed by the allurements of present Pleasures, blinded by their Passions, foresee not the Mischiefs and Inconveniences that will from thence arise: And those are in the like Error who are governed by a weakness of Mind, that is to say, for fear of Labour and Pain,

abandon their Duty and Station. But it is no difficult matter herein to distinguish aright; for in a time of li∣berty, when it is in our power to chuse, and that nothing hinders us from acting what pleaseth us best, all Plea∣sure is to be embrac'd, and all Pain to be avoided. But it happens, that at some times and upon certain junctures of Affairs, that we ought to decline Pleasure, and accept of things that are Ʋneasie. The Wise-Man therefore makes a prudent and discreet Determination in this Affair, viz. To reject such Pleasures by the absence of which, we may enjoy greater; and to suffer those Ills, by undergoing of which, we may avoid more Mischie∣vous.

Let us add to this, the general Consent of Plato, Socrates, and Aristotle, who make use of the same Rule to distinguish by. Let us not forget the Opi∣nion of Cicero, who would have us proceed as if all the Pleasures, and all the Delights present and to come were set before us, and poised in a Ba∣lance, for saith he, If you weigh the present Pleasures with the future, we are always to chuse the greatest and the most numerous; but if we weigh Evils with Evils, we are to chuse the least and the fewest. But if you weigh the present Pleasures with the future Evils, or the present Evils with the future Pleasures, in such a case, you must chuse the Pleasures if they out ballance, but on the contrary, if they be Evils.

Of the first Good that Nature has in it's View.

THat we may come at last to Epicurus's Opini∣on, That Pleasure is our main End, we must consider, that the Reason that induc'd him to this Opinion was, That he consider'd Pleasure general∣ly and simply in its own Nature, or else as it is

manag'd and directed by Prudence and Wisdom: for it is in this manner also, that Alexander ob∣serves, That we are to distinguish the Matter, when he saith, That Pleasure according to the Judgment of Epicurus, is the first Good that Nature pursues, or the first Good unto which we are Naturally bent and inclin'd; but afterwards this Pleasure is regulated and directed by Wisdom and Prudence. Esse quidem Voluptatem ex men∣te Epicuri primum familiare, primum, & congenitum bonum, primum aptum accomodatumque Naturae; verum deinceps quasi in ordinem redigi talem Vo∣luptatem. Wherefore, as we shall speak hereafter of this last, which with Epicurus, is nothing else but a freedom from Pain, and a Tranquility of Mind, let us at present say something of the First, and let us examin if this Pleasure understood in a gene∣ral sense be really this Primum Naturae familiare, or the first and chief Good that Nature goes in quest of; for, it remains a great Question among the Philo∣sophers. And it seems as in the order of good things that are desirable, there is one thing that is the ul∣timate and chief, so ought there to be one thing first, which may be the beginning of all our Desires. Some, saith Cicero, Conceive Pleasure or Delight, to be the first Good, others an exemption, or a freedom from Pain; for as soon as any Creature is born, it na∣turally desires and labours after an indolence or freedom from Pain. Others place the first good things of Nature, amongst those which they call our Being, Life, Perfection, the preservation of all our Mem∣bers intire and in Health, our Senses, Strength, Beauty, and such like.

Now, among these Opinions, the first and se∣cond is included in that of Epicurus, for he places our exemption from Pain among those things we call Pleasure. The third Opinion being that of the Stoicks, is less probable; for tho' we may say, that

every Creature desires to have its Being, Life, Health, Perfection and Preservation of its several Parts, &c. Nevertheless, we must observe, that all these things are desired, because it is pleasant to enjoy them. And therefore, if these things are de∣sirable for being Pleasant, doubtless Pleasure is the first good thing, or holds the chief place among those things that are desired. And this is probably what Aristotle meant when he said, That Pleasure is common to all living Creatures, and the inseparable Companion of our free and voluntary Actions; for we perceive, that what is Honest, is Pleasurable, as well as what is Ʋseful. Besides, Pleasure is born and bred up with us from our very Cradle. Therefore it is to no purpose to endeavour to wean our selves from this Incli∣nation, with which our Natures are naturally tinctured. This plainly discovers to us two things; First, That tho' we commonly reckon three sorts of good things, viz. The Honest, the Profitable, and the Pleasant: The Pleasant or Pleasurable, which is no∣thing else but Pleasure it self, is so intermixt with the rest, that it don't seem to be a distinct Species of it self, but part of the common Stock, which renders the others Good and Desirable; as if that which is Honest and Useful, were only to be desi∣red because it is Pleasing and agreeable. Se∣condly, That Pleasure being common unto all sen∣sible Creatures, and so fixt and setled in our very first Desires, that we have not a liberty of refusing it, seems verily that this should be the first Good that we wish for or desire, Primum expetibile, primum fa∣miliare; for these are the ordinary Terms, Primum expetitum accomodatum{que} Naturae.

Epicurus therefore seems to have dealt more can∣didly and sincerely, than all the rest, when he de∣clared, That Pleasure, Est primum Naturae accomo∣modatum; and that it is that, In quam tandem defini∣mus,

quatenus Animalia omnia simul ac nata sunt, sponte ipsa Natura & citra ullum ratiocinium ipsam comple∣ctantur & dolorem refugiant. Let us but hearken to Torquatus in Cicero. Epicurus, saith he, teacheth, That every Animal as soon as it is born, desires Plea∣sure, as its chief Good, and delights in the enjoyment of it, but hates Pain, as its great Evil; shuns it, and flees from it as much as it is able; this it practiseth while it is not corrupted, then Nature judgeth aright and with∣out mistake. There is no need of Reasoning and Disputing in these Cases, or to seek for Causes, why Pleasure is desirable, and Pain to be avoided, we our selves can as easily judge of this matter, as of the Fire, that it is Hot, the Snow White, and the Hony Sweet.

Maximus of Tyre teacheth the same Doctrin; Pleasure, says he, more ancient than Reason or Art, goes before Experience, and stays not for Time. But that violent desire we have for it, and which is coaeval with our Bodies, is as the foundation of the Creature's well-being; so that if we renounce it, all that shall be born, must immediately Perish. Man after he comes to years, may by Experience and Industry, arrive to a competent degree of Knowledge, Reason, and Ʋnder∣standing, (which is so much Extoll'd) naturally and of his own accord; but from his Infancy he loves Plea∣sure, and avoids Pain, without any help or Instruction, for it is Pleasure that delighst him, and Pain that annoys him. If Pleasure were a thing of no value, we should not bring it so early into the World with us, nor would it be the first thing necessary for our Preservation. But it is not necessary, from what we have here said, that you should conclude, That Pleasure is Man's chief Good or Happiness; for as Eudoxius says in Aristotle, As in all things, that which is desired, is Good, so that which is chiefly desired, ought to be the chief Good, or that which every thing

desires, is chiefly desirable; therefore what every thing desires, must be the chief Good; but that is Pleasure; therefore Pleasure is that chief Good. Let us here now admire the Wisdom and Fore-sight of the Great Creator and Author of Nature, That in re∣gard all our Actions and Operations are of them∣selves painful and troublesom, and these also, as Aristotle terms them, being Natural, as Seeing, Hearing, &c. He hath caused them all to be sweet∣ned with Pleasure; and the more necessary these Operations are for the preservation of our Species, the greater Pleasure Nature hath allotted them; otherwise all Creatures would neglect or forget not only the act of Generation, but even Eating and Drinking it self, if there were not certain na∣tural Instigations that stir and move us, and by causing some kind of Pain and Uneasiness, minds us of the Action, which the Pleasure that ought to appease this Pain and Uneasiness, doth promote and encourage, which is a manifest Proof, that these sorts of Pleasures, are not of themselves Evil, tho' Men abuse them afterwards by Intemperance, contrary to other Animals.

Neither is it requisite here to hint again, that by the name of Pleasure, we don't mean those gross sensual Pleasures of Luxury, Effeminacy, delicious Meats, Revellings, and the Debauchery of Women: In short, such as the Sages, as (Maximus observes) exclaimed against, styling them, Sardanapali scili∣cet Luxus, Medica mollities, Ionicae deliciae, Siculae mensae, Sybariticae saltationes, Corinthiae meretrices, &c. but ge∣nerally all that we can call and is generally stiled by the name of Joy, Pleasure, Contentment, Satis∣faction, Delight, Sweetness, Pleasantness, a peacable State, Quietude of Thought, secure Tranquility, &c. which are nothing else but synonymous Names for Pleasure. We must only here remember, That

what we have already observed, is one of Aristotle's Principles; That whatsoever we make choice of, is always accompanied whith Pleasure: And seeing there are three sorts of things named Good, according to Vulgar Distinction, the Honest, the Useful, and the Pleasant; The latter is common to the rest, for the Honest and the Useful seem to be also Pleasant and Grateful. From hence therefore we may infer, that Good and Pleasant, are but different Names for the same thing; and that Good is Good, and de∣scribed to be what all Creatures desire, only be∣cause it is grateful and pleasing; and by consequence that that Good which is pleasing, is desired for the Pleasure it affords. It remains, that we next prove, That the good things which are Honest and Useful, are also desired for the Pleasure they yield.

That things Profitable and Ʋseful, are sought after for the sake of Pleasure.

NOw, there is no difficulty to prove that things Profitable and Useful, relate to what is grate∣ful, or to the Pleasure which we receive from them. For it is manifest, That things Useful are not desired meerly because they are Useful, but for something else, which is either Pleasure it self, or which relates to Pleasure. As first in respect to Eating or Drinking, soft Musick, or sweet Perfumes, and the like, it is plain that we value them in respect of the Pleasure that attends them, which may likewise be understood of divers Arts and Sciences, as of Cookery, Hunting, Painting, Physick, Chirurgery, &c. which tend to free us from several Distempers, from which to be delivered, is very pleasing. The same thing may be said of Navigation, of Merchan∣dise,

of War; all which center in the getting of Mony, or something like, whereby we may at∣tain to some Pleasure that we promise to our selves. So when any one by hard Labour has ac∣quired sufficient to purchase an Habitation, Cloaths, Medicines, Books, and the like Conveniences, does not he promise to himself the Pleasure he shall en∣joy when he shall have obtain'd these things, and shall be able to subsist in Ease and Quiet for the fu∣ture, without any further Pains or Trouble; to eat when he shall be an Hungred, and drink when he is Thirsty, or warm himself when Cold, to be at leisure, and satisfie his Curiosity when he shall desire it; in short, when he shall be in a condition to spend his days Comfortably, Securely, Honestly, Honourably? This is generally the aim of all the World, of the Husband-man, of the cheating Tradesman, (as Horace stiles him) of the Soldier, Merchant and Seaman.

The Soldier Fights, the busy Tradesman Cheats, And finds a thousand Tricks and choice Deceits: The heavy Plough contents the labouring Hind, The Merchant strives with ev'ry Tide and Wind; And all this Toil to get vast heaps of Gold, That they may live at Ease when they are Old.

This is the design of the Courtiers, and of such as busy themselves in obtaining great Employments and high Offices; they undergo many Labours, make great Courtships, suffer many Hardships, and all for no other purpose, but that they might at last, as they pretend, retreat in Peace, and spend the remainder of their Lives to their own Content, quietly and peaceably. The most sordid and most covetous Misers, propose to themselves the plea∣sure

to look upon their Coffers full of Gold and Silver.

A sordid Churl, the Jest of all the Place, Thus comforted himself for his Disgrace: The Lowsy Rabble Hiss me at the Play, And Grin and make the greatest Farce of me. But what care I, when I can hug at home My strutting Bags, and give my self an Humm.

Not to mention those, who not understanding, That Nature is satisfied with a little, delight in De∣bauchery and Excess, who by Rapine and all indi∣rect means, strive to acquire Riches, that they might have the pleasure of wasting them in Prodi∣gality, Rioting and Luxury. This hath given oc∣casion to Manilius too justly to Complain;

For Heaven is kind, with bounteous hand it grants A fit supply for Nature's sober Wants. She asks not much, yet Men press blindly on, And heap up more, to be the more Ʋndone: By Luxury they Rapine's force maintain, What that scrapes up, flows out in Luxury again, And to be Squander'd, or to raise Debate, Is the great Only use of an Estate.

That those good things which we call Honest, have the nearest relation to Pleasure.

THis seems a little more difficult to be made out: Bonum honestum, or honest Good, seems to carry its own intrinsick worth, and to be desir'd only for it self. Cicero amongst others, appears very much in∣cens'd against Epicurus, after he had proposed a

Form of Honesty, such an one as he would have us understand; he applies himself to Torquatus. Thy Epicurus saith, That he knows not what they mean who compute Man's chief Happiness only by Honesty; who say, that all things are to be referr'd to that, and that there is nothing of Pleasure to be intermix'd with it. These are idle. Discourses which he can't understand, and that he cannot conceive what they mean by this word Honesty; for to speak according to the usual Dialect, we stile that Honest, which the People by their general Vogue, term Glorious and Honourable. And tho' that, saith he, be oftentimes more pleasing than divers other Pleasures, still it is desired for Pleasure sake. See here, saith he, this great Dispute! A famous Philoso∣pher, who hath made so much noise in the World, and hath spread his Fame not only over Greece and Italy, but over the Barbarous Nations, saith, That he under∣stands not what that Honesty means that is so much talk'd of, if there be no Pleasure intermixt with it. In this manner Cicero proposeth the Opinion of Epi∣curus, in relation to these remarkable Words, That nothing is called Honest, but what the General Vogue of Men recommend. Aristotle explains the Matter in these Terms, 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉, Either that there is nothing Honest, or it is that which is so esteem'd in the Opinion of Men.

Now, to speak first, as in reference to the Notion or description of Honesty, What harm is there if we consider it with a respect to Man, from whom it receives Praise and Recommendation? The word Honest amongst the Latins, is said to be so from the Honour that Action deserves, and amongst the Greeks, 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉, seems to have no other Significa∣tion; for if you please, you may interpret it not only Honest, but also Beautiful, Honourable, and Praise-worthy, &c. And you will find, that it is not so in respect of it self, but in respect of Men, who

allow of it to be so, and consequently it appears to them Beautiful and Honourable, and of whom it is, and ought to be Praised. The same ought to be understood of the word 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉, which is contrary to 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉: for when we interpret it Ignoble, Shame∣ful, and Detestable, we mean always in reference to Men, to whom it seems to be so. And that it is really so, we will appeal to Cicero himself, who gives this description of Honesty; That when it is divested of all Profit and Applause, it still re∣mains desirable and commendable for its own sake, without any regard to a Reward. Now, as I say, is it not true, that in this sense, Honesty is that which may be approved of and desired, which shews a re∣lation to them, who Praise it, or as Epicurus saith, To the common Esteem of the People? But by this word People or Multitude, who can think, that Epicurus hath a design to exclude Men of Wisdom and Un∣derstanding; and that he means not generally all the Men that make up a City or People? It were Ridiculous and Foolish to have such a Fancy. Now, in reference to what Cicero saith, That all Profit is removed, Epicurus will agree with him; That Honest Men don't propose to themselves any Profit or Advan∣tage, such as Mony and the like low, mean things; but they propose to themselves some other Benefits, as Praise, Glory, Honour, Renown, &c. which Cicero himself Acknowledges; for in his Oration for Milo, having supposed, That there are divers Recompen∣ces offered to Men of Honour, he saith, That of all the Rewards of Vertue, Glory is the greatest. And in another Place he declares, That Vertue desires no other recompence for all its Labours and Dangers, but Praise and Glory; which being removed, saith he, what is there in the course of this Life of so short a con∣tinuance, for which we ought to be at so much Labour?

Epicurus therefore seems to have given a good description of what is Honest, viz. That which is Glorious and Honourable, by the Vogue and universal Consent of all Mankind. For if at any time People account that to be Commendable and Glorious, which is esteem'd Mean and Dishonourable amongst some People or Nations, who have different Laws and Customs, according to which, the Notion of Honest and Dishonest differs, but not in respect of the same People, amongst whom that thing may be esteem'd Honest and agreeable with their Laws and Customs. For this Reason therefore, Cicero some∣times gives this general description of Honour; A reward of Vertue, granted to some Body by the Judg∣ment and Approbation of his Fellow Citizens, Praemium Virtutis judicio studio{que} Civium delatum ad aliquem. As if he should say, That Honour and by conse∣quence Honesty, or that which is Glorious and Ho∣nourable by Reputation, depends upon the Judg∣ment of the Citizens, or of the People who make use of their own Laws and Customs.

But in conclusion, to speak one word to the Pur∣pose in reference to that Honesty which relates to Pleasure, we must observe, That this Relation hin∣ders not, but that Honesty in one sense, may be said to be desired for it self, or for its own sake, because it is desired nulla contingente sive supervenien∣te re, as Aristotle Teaches; that is to say, as Cicero Interprets it, All Profit being laid aside, and without any Reward, Recompence, or Advantage, such as Mony and the like can produce. For some may desire, Honour, Learning and Vertue, not because they may there∣by advance Gain, or increase Wealth, but for the Renown and Satisfaction that will arise from the enjoyment of a clear and enlightned Understanding, whereby we may the better rule and Govern our Passions, and all this nevertheless, because it is plea∣sant

to be Honoured, Learned and Vertuous, and to enjoy a Soul Calm and Serene.

Whether the desire of Honour be Blame-worthy.

WE must here observe, that tho a too eager and violent pursuit of Honour, under a colour of Vertue, be not to be allowed, yet we must not to∣tally condemn the Desire of it, as some have done, especially if we seek after it with a just and lawful Moderation. It is not without Reason, that this Desire is Judg'd to be Natural, for we may see it appear very early in Children; and the very Bruits themselves are governed by it: Nay, tho' some may seem to neglect and despise, yet there is no body that can absolutely and altogether free them∣selves from the desire of it. 'Tis also very requi∣site, that it should be so highly esteem'd, for it is commonly proposed as the reward of Vertue; and that there is neither Kingdom nor Common-wealth, but encourages their Subjects to Noble Actions, by the expectation of it. There is like∣wise this difference between a Noble Generous Mind, and a base and mean Spirit; that whereas the latter seeks nothing but Gain and Profit in the Undertakings; the former desires nothing but Glo∣ry and Renown. Besides, Experience teacheth us, and all Ages can Witness, That where we remove from the minds of Men, the desire of Honour and Glory, there is never any mention made of those great Exploits by which Kingdoms are obtain'd. Now this being supposed, we may here take notice of two sorts of Pleasure, for which Honour is desi∣rable. The First, is that extraordinary Satisfaction that a Man expects to receive when his Fame shall

be spread abroad, and he shall become Renowned in the World. The Story of Damocles, is not un∣known, and the hopes that he proposed to himself of an unexpressible Joy for the Royal Honours they would bestow upon him. And that of Demosthenes is no less Remarkable. This Great Man confesseth ingenuously, That he was well pleased to hear a mean Woman coming from a Fountain, whisper softly to her Friend, There is Demosthenes, pointing at him with her Finger. And we may without any wrong to Ver∣tue, believe the same of other Illustrious Men, when in their Walks they hear themselves named, and the People say of them publickly, There is Chap∣pellus, the finest Wit of the Kingdom. Here is Des∣preaux, the Horace of our Age, the everlasting speak∣er of Truths. There is that famous Racinus, who by the charming efficacy of his Verses, knows, when he Pleases, how to force us to Weep. Here is the Learn∣ed and unparallel'd Lady, Sabbiere. How pleasant is it to be thus taken Notice of in the World for some Perfection, and pointed at by eminent Per∣sons!

At pulchrum est digito monstrari & dicier hic est.

And we know what is reported of Themistocles, when after a notable Victory, he observed, That all the Spectators neglecting the publick Pomp, had their Eyes wholly fixed upon him, which transport∣ed him with so great Joy, that he could not for∣bear thus to express himself: This day, says he, I receive sufficient recompence for all the Toils that I have undergone for Greece.

The other sort of Pleasure that carries Men to the desire of Honour, is that great Security that attends us; the enjoyment of which is so pleasant, and the rather, because he that lives in a perfect and entire

Security, finds himself in power to act what seem∣eth him good, and to enjoy all the Pleasures that he fancies without any controll. Now, we easily believe, that Security is obtained by Honour, be∣cause Honour is bestowed for Vertue's sake, or be∣cause of Offices and Performances that suppose Ver∣tue to be there. If it be for Vertue's sake, then it is certainly free from Contempt, and the Reveren∣ced Person can by no means sink into that Estate which is exposed to Injuries and Affronts. If it be for the sake of Offices or Dignities, and consequent∣ly for some Advantage expected, or some Evil that we dread, even for that cause, we look upon them commonly as a great and strong Support. But herein we may find this difference, That the Ho∣nour that is rendred for the sake of Dignities, is more Splendid and taking with the Common Peo∣ple; therefore we see a great many very desirous of Dignities and noble Employments, and very few look after Vertue. As if those who are promo∣ted to Dignities, had wherewith they may Injure some, and Pleasure others; and therefore can se∣cure themselves from the Power of some by Hope, and of others by Fear.

CHAP. IV. What Advantage Moral Vertue procures.

NOw to mention something of Vertue it self. Aristotle and Cicero declare Wonders about the delights and pleasures of Knowledge and Learn∣ing, which make the first part of Moral Vertue. Nature, saith Aristotle, the common Parent, stirs up and gives unspeakable Pleasures to such as can attain to understand the Causes of things, and study Philosophy truly and to purpose. If we cannot without Delight, look upon the bare Images of Nature, because in casting our Eyes upon them, we behold the ingenuity and skill of the Painter or the Graver that made them; How much more ought the Contemplation of Nature it self, and of its admirable Wisdom and Contrivances, to fill our Minds with Joy and Satisfaction? Cicero also speaks of it to no less Advantage. The Consideration, saith he, and Contemplation of Nature, is the real and na∣tural Food of the Soul: It is that which raiseth and ele∣vates our Thoughts; for when we think upon the Coele∣stial things, which are so Great, Large and of such a vast Extent, we despise these here below, as Mean and of no Value. Seneca's Expressions are no less Remarkable; O! how Contemptible is Man, saith he, if he raiseth not himself above Human things! We may say, That then the Spirit of Man hath attain'd to its greatest Happiness that its Nature is capable of, when it hath trampled up∣on all Vice, and raiseth it self to sublime Matters, and searches into the Secrets of Nature. 'Tis then, that walking among the Coelestial Orbs, it disdains the green Fields, and all the Gold that the Earth produces for our covetous Posterity. There are above us, spacious Hea∣vens, which our Souls take then Possession of. When it

is there arrived, it is nourish'd and increases, and being free'd from its Earthly Prison, it returns to its first Principle; for, it is a certain sign of its being of a Divine Nature, that the Divine Objects are pleasing to it, which it looks upon not as belonging to others, but as its own.

Here it will not be amiss to mention the Pleasures and Transports of Joy that the Mathematical Sciences cause. Plutarch relates, That Eudoxius would have been willing to have been Burnt as Phaeton was, if he could first have been admitted to approach so near the Sun, as to have a full inspection of its Figure, Greatness and Beauty. The same Author tells us, That Pytha∣goras was so ravish'd with Joy when he had found that famous Theorem, (which is the Forty seventh of Euclid's Book) that immediately he offered a so∣lemn Sacrifice. He writes also of Archimedes, That many times they have been forced to divert him from his deep Contemplations: Nay, so great a Pleasure he found in them, that his excess of Joy, was like to have cost him his Life, when by labori∣ous and tedious Study, he had arrived to discover, how much Brass might be mingled in that Crown of Gold which the King had Dedicated to the Gods. He thereupon (as he was going out of the Bath) transporred with Joy, cried out, 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉 There is nothing, saith Cicero, more Pleasant, than the sweet repose of a Learned Old Age. We see Gallus, your Fa∣ther's Friend, dying for Joy, in the Speculation of the Stars, and measuring the Heavens and the Earth. How many times hath he Surpriz'd him from Morn∣ing, until the Evening, when he had undertaken to describe something of the Stars? And how many a Night hath he found him in the Evening, when he had begun from the Morning? O what Pleasure did he take to foretell the Eclipses of the Sun and Moon?

For the other Liberal Arts, it is known what Re∣creation the Knowledg of History and Antiquity, the Beauty of Poetry, and the Grace of Rhetorick give. These Studies, saith Cicero, are delightful Em∣ployments for Youth, are pleasing to Old Age, are Or∣naments in Prosperity, and a grateful security in Ad∣versity. Haec studia Adolescentiam alunt, Senectutem oblectant, secundas res ornant, adversis perfugium & solatium praebent; delectant domi, non impudiunt foris, pernoctant nobiscum, peregrinantur, rusti∣cantur. They afford Pleasure at Home; they are not Troublesom to us Abroad; they continue with us Sleep∣ing; they accompany us in our Travels; they go along with us in the Fields. How mean are the delights of Banquetting, of Plays, of Women, when compared with these Pleasures? Men freely spend whole days and nights in pursuit of Learning, and think no pains too great to be bestowed in obtaining it; so great and exqui∣sit is the Pleasure thereof, when acquired. Omnia pre∣petiuntur ipsa cognitione & scientia capti, & cum maximis curis, & laboribus compensant eam quam ex discendo capiunt voluptatem.

For the other part of Vertue, which is common∣ly called Moral Vertue, we shall be obliged hereaf∣ter to treat of it more at large, where we shall speak of its four Kinds, viz. Prudence, Forti∣tude, Temperance and Justice. Only supposing at present, that 'tis an undoubted Truth, That there is nothing more Pleasant, than to lead a Life not liable to Reproach; a Life that's Innocent and void of Offence, free from the Checks and Re∣morses of a guilty Conscience; and so to govern all our Actions according to the Rules of Honesty and Prudence, as not to fail in any of the Duties of Life; to wrong no Body; to do good to every one as much as is possible. Suppose I say, such Maxims

to be True, which we shall have hereafter occasion to mention; I shall here take notice of three things. First; That it is not without great Reason, that we compare Vertue to a Plant, whose Root is Bit∣ter, but the Fruit very Sweet; and that Plato, Xeno∣phon, and several others, have highly commended those Verses of Hesiod, that inform us, That Ver∣tue is not to be attain'd without Labour and Sweat; and that the way that leads to it, is truly Long and Difficult, and of an uneasie access in the begin∣ning, but when e'er mounted to the top, there is nothing Sweeter, nor more Pleasant.

The Gods through Sweat and Pains to Vertue lead, But long and arduous is the Path we tread: Rugged and steep when first you venture on, But at the top arriv'd, with easy speed you run.

Unto which we ought to add that Sentence of Epi∣charmus, That the Gods afford to us no good things, but for our Labours and Pains.

Labore nobis cuncta, Dii vendunt bona.

Which gives us to understand, that we ought freely to endure the Labours that occur in the way to Vertue, because they are attended with wonder∣ful Pleasure and Satisfaction.

Nor is that Story without Ground; Where Plea∣sure and Vertue are supposed to meet in a double Way, and each of them to use the strongest Motives to encline Hercules to follow them in their different Paths; for that confirms the truth of those Rules that are before alledged, when we took notice, That we ought to shun that Pleasure which is at∣tended with a greater Mischief; as we ought to

embrace those Labours and Toils which will pro∣cure us greater Advantages and Delights. I know very well how they have represented Hercules reje∣cting Pleasure, that is to say, an easie and Effeminate Life, to pursue Vertue, which is a Life full of La∣bour and Difficulty. Nevertheless, Maximus of Tyre, saith very well; That when he was under the greatest Labours, he felt, or had a prospect of wonderful Pleasures. You see, saith he, in Hercules extraordi∣nary Labours, but you see not the incredible Pleasures that either attend or succeed them. Whosoever takes away Pleasure from Vertue, takes from it all Strength and Efficacy; for were it not for Pleasure, Men would never undertake any great Matter: And he who out of Zeal for Vertue, willingly un∣dergoes any Trouble, this is purely for the sake of some Pleasure he feels or expects: For as in hoard∣ing up of Treasure, no Man will prefer a Pebble before a Ruby, nor Brass before Gold, unless he be utterly destitute of all Reason and Understand∣ing: So in respect of Labour and Trouble, no Man labours meerly and purely for Labour's sake; this would turn to a very sorry account; but we wil∣lingly exchange the present Labours for Vertue; that is, in plain English, as the Stoicks term it, for Pleasure; for, who speaks of Vertue, speaks of De∣light; and Vertue it self would be much neglected, if at the same time it were not attended with De∣light. For my part, I must declare, that I run quite counter to the common Vogue, for I look up∣on Pleasure to be the most Beautiful, the most De∣sirable thing in the World, and that which we ought the most strictly to pursue; and for its sake it is, I believe, that Men so frequently expose themselves to all Hazards and Dangers, and even encounter Death it self; for tho' we are apt to give divers Names to the Cause that first moves us

to undertake such great things; as for Instance, That which put Achilles upon dying voluntarily for Patrocles, we call Friendship; that which enclined Agamemnon to enter into and carry on a War with so much Care and Fatigue, was the care of preser∣ving his Kingdom; that of Hector's so frequent Encamping and defeating his Enemies, was the de∣sire to preserve his Country. All these several Terms are but other Names for Pleasure. And as in the Distempers of the Body, the Patient for want of Health, not only freely submits himself to Hunger and Thirst, but also willingly undergoes the most virulent Pains and Torments of Surgeons Instruments; but if it were not for this hope, he would never endure such Tortures. So in the acti∣ons of Life, there is a compensation for the Trou∣bles that we undergo with Pleasure, which you truly term Vertue, and which I allow so to be. But at the same time I demand, Whether your Mind does embrace Vertue, without any love for it? And if you yield to this, that you have such a Love, ought you not to agree also that you have a Pleasure in it? Vary the Terms as much as you please, call it nei∣ther Pleasure nor Delight, but Joy or Satisfaction, I shall not differ about Names; I look only to the thing it self, and I find that Pleasure or Satisfaction, put Hercules on Action.

The second Observation that I make, is, That the Philosophers themselves who have declared open War with Pleasure, whereby to advance their Vertue, and so to become more Remarkable, don't differ so much from Epicurus in the thing, as in the Term. I might here with Lucian, mention their Ways and Manners, who tell them, That if they had the Ring of Gyges, and the Helmet of Pluto, so that they might become invisible to the World, they would soon forsake their beloved Labours,

their Pains and Toils, and hunt after those Plea∣sures and Delights that they seem to slight and con∣demn. Maximus of Tyre, compares them with Aesop's Sheperd, who being ask'd by a Lion in pursuit of a Buck, whether he had seen it; answered No, but with his Finger pointed at the Place where it fled. Thus these pretenders to Ver∣tue, when they disclaim against Pleasure, 'tis only in Word and in Shew. But to pass by their Man∣ners, which don't any ways correspond with their Words, 'tis sufficient to let you know, That Epicu∣rus as well as they, embraces and esteems Vertue very highly, and that when they storm so much against him, 'tis because he maintains, That Ver∣tue is only a means very proper to attain our End or chief Good; whereas, they assert, That Vertue it self is the last End and chief Good. So that in effect, they declare the very same thing as he doth, tho' in different Words.

And truly these are their own Expressions, so often celebrated among them; That Vertue is suffi∣cient of it self to make us Happy. Or as Cicero says, That to live happily, we need only be Vertuous. Now, if we rightly understand this Maxim, we must ne∣cessarily perceive thereby that Vertue it self is not the chief Good, but a means that contributes in such a manner to obtain it, that it is alone suffici∣ent for that purpose, without having need of the assistance of any thing else; And consequently we may thereby perceive, that a happy Life, or true Felicity, which is obtained by Vertue, is the chief Good, or the last End, because this Good, or this End, is for it self, and tends not to obtain after∣wards any thing else.

And, now to live Happily, is nothing else, but to live agreeably, contentedly, and with Delight; and if we may be permitted, to add the other Word,

which offends so much, with Pleasure. Certainly tho' the Stoicks deal not so plainly as Aristotle, who holds, That Pleasure is mixed with Happiness, and that by Pleasure, the contemplation or operation of Hap∣piness is increased: Yet I doubt not but if an happy Life could be fancied to be really void of Delight and Pleasure, they would render it so barren and desolate, that in ascending their steep and craggy Mountain of Vertue, they would never endure so many Hardships and Dangers, if they were not en∣couraged with the hopes of Happiness, when they arrive at the top. And Socrates himself, whose Resolutions and Courage they desire; Hath he not plainly described Happiness to be a Pleasure which is not attended with Repentance? And Antisthenes, the Father of the Cynicks, and the Author of that fa∣mous Maxim of the Stoicks; That he would rather become an Ideot, than seek after Pleasure. Doth he not yield to this in the Writings of Stobeus? Venan∣das esse eas voluptates, non quae labores aut molestias praecedunt, sed quae consequuntur. That we ought not to seek after those Pleasures which go before our Labours and Difficulties, but such as follow.

But to shew still more plainly how Pleasure ac∣companies a Cynical Life, which the Stoicks them∣selves, tho' they look upon it as Austere and Grie∣vous, yet nevertheless Happy: We need but heark∣en once more to Maximus of Tyre, who the best of any, hath represented this Life, speaking of Dio∣genes: What, saith he, made Diogenes to retire into his Tub? Was it not Pleasure? For tho' it was also Vertue that made him abide there, Why must we separate his Pleasure from his Reason? Diogenes was as well pleased in his Tub, as Xerxes in the City of Babylon; and in feeding upon his boiled Barley and dried Bread, as Smindrides upon his dainty Dishes and exquisit Fare. He was as

well satisfied in the Sun, as Sardanapalus was in the Purple Garments; with his Staff in his hand, as Alexander with his Lance; with his Wallet at his Back, as Cresus in the midst of his Treasures. And if you please to compare the Pleasures of the one with those of the others, you shall find the Pleasures of Diogenes to be prefer'd; because Pain and Trou∣ble have always from every side, come to disturb the Pleasures of those Men who seem'd to be Hap∣py. When Xerxes was Overcome, he Wept; Cambises being Wounded, fell into Sorrow; Sarda∣napalus groaned in the Flames. When Smyndrides was Banished, he was Troubled. When Croesus was Prisoner, he shed Tears: And Alexander being stopt in his Wars, Complains. But the Pleasures of Diogenes were free from Complaints, Cries, Tears and Displeasure. You may call Labours and troublesom Actions, those sort of Pleasures, if you should put your self in Diogenes's Place: But this is not fair; for if you should do what he did, you might be Grieved with what Diogenes made his Pleasure. And yet I dare affirm, That never any Man had a more earnest desire for Pleasure than Diogenes had. He had no House; the care of a Fa∣mily is Troublesom: He was never concerned in the Government; it is an Employment full of Sor∣rows: He shun'd Matrimony, for he had hear'd the Fame of Xantippe: He never brought up Children; He understood well the Difficulties. But having banish'd from himself all Sorrow, being altogether Free, void of Care, Fear, or Grief; He alone a∣mong Men, enjoyed all the Earth as a single and common House, fully possessing the Pleasures which are not to be circumscribed, and which are free and open to all the World, and which are to be found plentifully in every Place. Verum depulsa om∣ni molestia, plenus libertate, expers solicitudinis, absque

metu, citra dolorem habebat unus hominum universam rerum quasi unam domum, voluptatibus passim fruens in∣custoditis, patentibus, cópiosis.

The third Observation is, That notwithstanding some do so much talk and glory of acting by Prin∣ciples out of love to Vertue, yet upon a strict En∣quiry, we we shall find, that Pleasure is their chief Motive; for they that expose themselves to Haz∣ards and Dangers for the sake of a Friend, or for the deliverance of their Country, and that defy even Death it self, which they know to be una∣voidable, do all this in Expectation of some Plea∣sure or Satisfaction, which they shall enjoy after Death: But still it is present Pleasure which ex∣cites and animates them, when they think that the Actions which they are going about, shall procure Liberty to their Relations, Friends, or Country∣men, or perpetuate their Memory, and make their Generations Famous in after Ages: It is, I say, the thoughts of being rendered Famous to Poste∣rity, that thus Animates and Transports them.

This is to be understood of him who goes to a certain Death; for when there remains any hopes of Escaping, we need but see what Torquatus re∣lates of one of his Predecessors. It is true, saith he, that he wrested the Lance out of his Enemies hands, but he endeavour'd as much as was able, to secure him∣self from being Kill'd. He run a great hazard, but it was in the view of the whole Army. What Advan∣tage did he receive? The Praises and Love of all the World, which are very strong Supports to us to bear our Dangers without fear. See likewise what Seneca saith, Ʋpon the performance of any great and glorious Action, there immediately arises an extra∣ordinary Joy and Delight; and tho' we reap no Advan∣tage after Death, yet the very thoughts of the Action that we are about to commit, please us; for when a ge∣nerous

Man represents to himself the reward of his Death, namely, the Liberty of his Country, the deli∣verance of those for whom he sacrifices his Life, he re∣ceives from thence a great deal of Pleasure, and enjoys the recompence of the Hazard: And he who feels that Joy, which happens at the last moment of the Action, runs on to Death without any Demur, content and satisfied in the Goodness, Piety and Holiness of the Action.

The same may be said of those severe Fathers, who have punished with Death their own Children, tho' they seem to deprive themselves of great Plea∣sures. 'Tis what Cicero continues to object to the same Torquatus, who by giving a blow with his Ax to his Son, prefer'd the Right of the Empire, to that of Nature and Fatherly Affection; for those who proceed to that Extremity, understand the temper of their Children to be such, that it is bet∣ter for themselves and for their Children, rather to Die than Live, because they are likely to receive nothing from them, but continual Sorrows, and that their perpetual Shame would retort upon them. Therefore when they consider that it is more grateful and desirable to them to prevent their future dissatisfaction and infamy, by a present Grief, and to expiate (if I may so say) that Disgrace that hath been committed, by some Noble and illustrious Action, rather than to sink them∣selves by a mean Baseness, and a deceitful Weak∣ness, into an Abyss of Calamity. This is the Plea∣sure which such relish, who desire to free themselves from this Abyss. Take notice also what the same Torquatus Answers; He condemned his Son to Death; but if it be without Cause, I would not desire to be the Son of such an unnatural Father. If he did it to se∣cure and establish the Military Discipline, to keep the Army within the bounds of their Duty, by the

fear of punishment, during a moct dangerous War, had an eye to the Preservation of his Country-men, in whose Safety his own was included and comprehended.

Of Self-Love.

BUt that which is generally spoken of Vertue may be also said of Piety towards God, seeing that it is not likely, that there can be any sincere Piety if God be not purely and intirely lov'd for himself, or because he is infinitely Good, or because he is infinitely Excellent. So that he who loves and honours God, hath no respect to himself, neither doth he consider his own Profit or Pleasure. For my part, God forbid, that I should undervalue the Piety of any Person. As there are some who don't only per∣suade that we ought to love God in this manner, and consequently don't only suppose, that this is possible, but to give Authority to this Doctrin, and prevent the Objection, boast and believe they perform all this: Truly I don't envy, nor shall I contradict them; but far from that, I approve and applaud their Happiness, and that special favour of Heaven, granted to them; for we must believe, that it is a Gift of God and Supernatural, that any Man can prevail upon himself to love and honour God in such a manner. But we are treating here of Piety, and generally of Vertue, which is sutable to Nature, according to which, Man performs all that he doth with some respect to himself. May not we therefore say, that God hath in such a manner com∣plied with the infirmity of our Nature; That as there is scarce any Passage in Holy Writ that al∣lows or expresseth their Doctrin, there are a great many that approve of loving God greatly, because he hath pardoned them their many Sins; or because

he hath granted them many Favours; or of loving him for the hopes of the promises of Heaven; and who perform divers offices of Charity, suffer Per∣secution, keep the Faith, &c. because of that King∣dom prepared for them from the beginning of the World, because of the extraordinary Rewards that wait for them in Heaven, because of the Crown of Righteousness, which God hath promised to them that love him? May we not, I say, be of this Opi∣nion, and conclude from these Passages, That there is nothing to hinder us from having in view those everlasting Delights which such are to enjoy who have loved and honoured God? I will not appeal to the Consciences of any Person, nor do I ask what they would do, if after God had been Honoured and Loved, if he took no care of those who had loved and honoured him; and if in such a case, he neither granted them any Advantage, nor gave them hopes of any to be expected to all Eternity: I do not ask them, I say, What they would do? Whether they would Love or Honour him less? I only desire them to take in good part this Questi∣on, Whether they don't Love and Honour him, because it is very pleasant to Love and serve him in this manner? And whether they believe it not consequently very Pleasant and very Grateful to be thus disposed towards God, purely and absolutely for his sake, and without any regard to our selves? Seeing he tells us, That his Yoak is easie, whereby to encline us to love him with all our Heart, with all our Soul, with all our Understanding, and all our Strength; certainly he excludes not this Sweet∣ness and Pleasure. But let this be hinted by the by, the better to strengthen and confirm the Reason by which we prove, according to the Judgment of Epicurus, That Pleasure is the chief Good, or the last End, being desired in such a manner for it self;

that all other things are desirable for its sake. Let us now say something of that other Reason, which is deriv'd from a Comparison between Pleasure and Pain, which is its contrary. Let us suppose, saith Torquatus, a Man enjoying many great and continued Pleasures both of Body and Mind, without any interrup∣tion or disturbance by any Grief, either present or to come, What State, in short, can we say is better and more de∣sirable than that? Is it not certain, that a Man in that condition, is in an unshaken Tranquility of Mind; That he will not foolishly and childishly fret at the sight of Death, but will consider, that it is unavoidable? On the contrary, Suppose another Man tormented with the most exquisite Tortures both of Body and of Mind, that a Human Nature is capable of, without any hopes of Relief, or ease, or of any Pleasure either present or to come, How can we represent any more Ʋnhappy than such a one? Now, if a Life full of Pain, is chiefly to be avoided, and consequently to live in Pain, is without any question, the chief of Evils, it follows by the Rule of Contraries, That to live in Pleasure, is the chief Good; for there is nothing beyond it, where our Mind stops and rests satisfied, as there is nothing beyond the pain either of the Body, or of the Mind, which can shake our Nature, or under∣mine her Settlement. I dare not declare, saith Ci∣cero, whom I should prefer to your pretended Happy Man; Vertue shall decide the Controversy, and will, no doubt, prefer Marcus Regulus before him, who of his own ac∣cord, without any Constraint, and contrary to the Faith that he had given to the Enemy, returned back to his own Country to Carthage. Vertue, I say, shall prefer this famous Man; and when he shall be tired and tor∣mented with Watchings and Hunger, it will declare, that he is happier than Thorius, who was drinking deliciously, and stretching himself upon a Bed of Roses. Regulus had wag'd great War; he had been twice

Consul, and carried in Triumph. Yet he looked not upon all this so Great and Glorious, As this last Enter∣prise, to which his Faith and Constancy oblig'd him. This condition when we hear it describ'd, seems to be Miserable to us, but to him it was a State of Pleasure and Happiness; for it is not always Pleasure, De∣light, Laughter and Sports that cause Happiness, but oft times Resolution and Constancy, render those Persons Happy who are in the midst of Sufferings and Sor∣row.

Of the deceitful Vertue and deceitful Happiness of Regulus.

BUt to speak a word of the Examples instanc'd by way of Comparison, before we yield to the Eloquence of Cicero. Tho we ought not in all re∣spects to approve of Thorius, and of his too delici∣ous manner of Living, which Epicurus himself would never have allowed; Nevertheless, it is not easy to conceive, how Regulus was really happier than Tho∣rius. In truth, I perceive a specious Shew and a fine sound of Words, by which it is usual to extol this so famous Vertue of Regulus; yet, if we will seriously examin his Story, and weigh sincerely the several Circumstances, we shall not find it so Plau∣sible. Polybius informs us, That Regulus having for∣tunately Commanded in the War against the Car∣thaginians, and fearing lest another Consul being sent from Rome in his stead, should bear away the honour of his brave Exploits, he advised the Car∣thaginians to a Peace. But the Conditions that he proposed to their Deputies, were so hard, that they resolved rather to hazard all. They therefore chu∣sing for their General Xantippus the Lacedemonian, Encounter'd with Regulus in a Battel, got the Vi∣ctory,

and took him Prisoner with Five Hundred more, with whom he was Flying. An undoubted Sign, saith the same Polybius, of Fortune's Inconstancy, and of the little trust we are to put in her flattering Smiles, seeing that he, who but a little before, could not be moved to Pity, and had no Compassion of the Affli∣cted, was soon after oblig'd to cast himself at their Feet, and to beg his Life. Polyaenus adds further; That Regulus Swore to the Carthaginians, That if they would suffer him to depart, he would persuade the Romans to make Peace with them, and if he could not, he would return back to Carthage. But that he advis'd the Senate to the Contrary, discovering the Weakness of the Enemy, the Means whereby they might Destroy them; and that the Prisoners of the Carthaginians, were Young, and stout Cap∣tains, whereas, he was Decrepid and Old. This he Whisper'd, saith Appian, to the Chief of the Romans. His Opinion, saith Cicero, so much prevailed, that they kept back the Prisoners; there was no Peace made, and he returned to Carthage. 'Tis true, that his Depar∣ture was attended with Mournful Circumstances; for Horace tells us; That at his Return, he fix'd his Eyes upon the Ground, like a Criminal, with a de∣jected Countenance, rudely putting aside his Wife and Children, as they were approaching to embrace him with Tears.

His Wife's chast Kiss, his prattling Boys, The former Partners of his Joys: Now grown a Slave, thrown down by Fate, And lessen'd from his former State; He shunn'd with manly Modesty, And on the Earth he cast his stubborn Eye: Whilst thus by strange Advice, he sought And fix'd the wavering Senate's Vote.

Then through his Weeping Friends he ran In haste, a glorious Banish'd Man. What Cords and Wheels, what Racks and Chains, What lingring Tortures for his Pains, The barbarous Hang-men made, he knew, And hightning Fame told more than true. Yet he his Wife and Boys remov'd, His hindring Friends, and all he Lov'd, And through the Crowd he made his way, That wept and begg'd a longer stay, As free as if when Term was done And Suit's at end, he left the Town; And did from Business and Cares retreat, To the cool Pleasures of a Country Seat.

Nevertheless, we must observe what Tuditanus Relates, That when he advis'd 'em to make no Exchange of the Prisoners, he inform'd 'em, That the Carthaginians had given him such a slow Poison, that he could only live until the Exchange was made, afterwards he was to pine away and Die.

We may also take notice of that which is to be found among the Fragments of Diodorus Siculus. Now, Who will not disapprove the Pride and Vain-glory of Attilius Regulus, who not being able to support him∣self under so great Prosperity, which seem'd to him as an heavy Burthen, deprived himself of the advantage of a general Applause, and brought his own Country into eminent Danger? For, when he might have concluded an Honourable and Advantageous Peace to the People of Rome, and obtain'd the Glory of a remarkable Clem∣ency and Renown, he proudly insulted over the Afflicted, and required such harsh and unreasonable Terms of Peace, that he not only drew upon himself God's Displea∣sure, but mov'd the Conquered to such an implacable Hatred, whereby to renew their Courage, and venture to fight afresh. By his fault, the Affairs were chang'd

in such a manner, that he and his whole Army were Routed; Thirty Thousand of 'em being slain in the Field, and Fifteen Thousand taken Prisoners with him, &c.

From whence we may surmise, That when Regu∣lus considered, he could never make sufficient a∣mends for the Fault he had committed, and that he would be always look'd upon in Rome as a Rash and Proud Man, he chose rather to return to Carthage, and prefer'd an apparent Danger (tho' he thought it not to be so great, because of the Carthaginian Prisoners in the hands of the Romans) to an un∣doubted Infamy, and to a Life which he saw was Languishing and very short, because of the Poison which the Carthaginians had given him.

However, when Regulus had done nothing at Rome, but having return'd back to Carthage, that he kept his Word, doubtless he cannot be too much esteem'd and applauded. But when he dissuaded the Senate from what he had promised to persuade them to, How can that be judg'd as a commendable thing, seeing it was a manifest Perjury? If he had contented him∣self with the plain delivery of his Message, without persuading or dissuading any thing, his proceeding might then admit of some colourable Excuse: But thus openly to violate the Sacred Laws of Oaths, how can this be Palliated? And when he did it in Se∣cret, for fear saith Appian, lest the Ambassadors that came along with him, might come to understand it, that also increaseth the Suspicion, and aggravates the Crime. Pretend not the Welfare and Glory of his Country to ex∣cuse him. Truly, our Country is to be secured by good Advice, by Strength and Courage, but not by wicked Artifices, and by perfidious Dealing: And we ought not to approve our selves Citizens, whereby to become good Men.

You may perhaps alledge what we find in Euri∣pides, That he swore with the Tongue, but not with the Heart. Illum jurasse Lingua, Mentem gessisse inju∣ratam. But this is only to seek a Cloak for Perjury; for as Cicero saith, 'Tis not Perjury to Swear falsly, but not to perform what the Oath signifies, according to the common intention of the Words.

Truly, if it were lawful without wounding the Conscience, to mean one thing and speak another, it were to permit Lying in reality, and to deceive him who hears us speak, and with whom we con∣verse. This would cause the Faith of every one to be suspected, and consequently would introduce a great Confusion in the Transactions and Affairs of Mankind. You may also say, that this was lawful, because the Carthaginians themselves had broke the Faith they had given him. But if you be a Wick∣ed Person, I ought not therefore to be less Honest; otherwise, What difference would there be between you and me? We ought to deal with perfidious Persons, either with a great deal of Precaution or with open Force; but it is not lawful upon any account whatever, to violate our Faith. It is an old Maxim, That either we ought not to Promise at all, or else to keep it. But it seems, the Carthagi∣nians put him to grievous Tortures, for no other end, but because contrary to the Faith he had gi∣ven them, he had dissuaded the Romans from con∣cluding a Peace, and the Exchange of the Prisoners. It is true, as Tubero saith, That the Noblest Priso∣ners were delivered into the hands of Regulus's Chil∣dren, who put 'em to Death with the same Torments that Regulus suffered. But pray consider, whether Regulus had any reason to prefer the Destruction of those Prisoners, to the Lives of five Hundred Roman Soldiers, who had been taken with him, and who

for the sake of his Vertue, cruelly perished in the same manner with him at Carthage.

But to return to our present purpose in relation to Happiness; I would fain be resolved, how the Hap∣piness of Regulus was greater than that of Thorius, when he was Tortured in the manner that the fore∣mentioned Tubero relates? They kept him a long time, says he, in dismal dark Dungeons; then they cut off his Eye∣lids, and when the Sun shone brightest, they brought him forth and exposed him to the Sun-beams, forcing him to hold his Eyes that way, knowing it was not possible for him to shut them. Cicero informs us, that he was bound in an Engin, and that after they had cut off his Eye∣lids, they destroyed him by Watching. Seneca terms this Engin a Tub stuck through with Nails, in which he was Inclosed. Sylvius presents us with this Description.

With desp'rate Rows they arm'd the sloping Wood, And tor'tring Nails at equal distance stood: Thus robb'd of Sleep, by never sleeping pain, He grows his own Tormentor, and in vain Attempts his Limbs, by turning to relieve, While only varied Wounds the varied Postures give.

But possibly you'll say, That Thorius embrac'd Pleasure in an Effminate manner, whereas, Regulus, for the good of his Country, prefer'd these Tor∣tures, and suffer'd them Courageously. First, Tho∣rius was not so soft and Effeminate, but that when the Well-fare of his Country required, he did not decline the Wars, but at last died fighting in de∣fence of it, as Cicero himself testifies.

And tho' it be a great support in the midst of our Sufferings, to preserve our Conscience Pure and Unstained, considering that we suffer in an honest Cause, and for the Well-fare of many, yet it don't

thereby appear, that we are therefore more Happy, than we should be by living Vertuously, Wronging no body, but endeavouring to do all the good we can, and every way discharging the Duty of a good Man, and an honest Subject, spending our lives in this manner in a great deal of Pleasure, and little Pain.

In short, suppose a Man of the greatest Resolu∣tion and Courage, who would not upon a good ac∣count, be daunted at the greatest Difficulties or Dangers; I say, if it were offered to such a one, without any prejudice either to his Duty or Repu∣tation, to take his choice of the two kinds of Life mentioned by Torquatus, Where is the Man, I beseech you, among all those, that thus exclaim against Pleasure, and extol Vertue and Sufferings, that would give the preference to the latter, and wil∣lingly embrace it?

But to confirm what hath been said before, That Pain is the greatest Evil; for that hath been as the Antecedent, from whence we may conclude, by the Rule of Contraries, That Pleasure is the chief Good. By the same Reason by which we have proved, That Pleasure is the sovereign Good, which Natu∣rally we seek, Primum familiare seu accommodatum. And consequently the chief Good; By the same Reason, it hath been proved, That Pain is the chief Evil, which Naturally we avoid. Primum ali∣enum se incommodans, And consequently the chief Evil. For Nature hath not only given to all Crea∣tures a natural love for Pleasure, but hath also fix'd in 'em a natural hatred of Pain. Let us now take notice of two or three Particulars. First, By the word Pain, we are not to understand only those that we call the Pains of the Body, but also those which we term the Pains or Inquietudes of the Mind, and which are far more anxious and insupportable,

than those of the Body, as we have already said. Secondly, That as we have before observ'd, Ver∣tue and Goodness have something within them which naturally afford Pleasure and Delight; so likewise we may now affirm, that Vice, or that which is In∣famous and Dishonest, hath that in it which causes great Pain and Uneasiness. From whence it is, that as Vertue and Goodness is attended by many and great Advantages, so Vice or Wickedness, is suc∣ceeded by many and great Evils. So, that in short, among the things which are to be desired, in order to obtaining our chief Good, Vertue is that which we are chiefly to aim at; and among the things that we are to shun, in order the better to avoid the greatest Evils, Vice and Wickedness, is that which we are chiefly to fly from. Lastly, This Doctrin seems to be very conformable to the Sacred Rules of Faith: By which, as we believe that our chief Good or Happiness, consists in enjoying the ever∣lasting Delights and Joys in Heaven: So we be∣lieve, That our greatest Unhappiness or Misery, consists in being tormented in Hell, with uspeakable Tortures in everlasting Flames.

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.

CHAP VI. What Vertue and Advantage accrues by being contented with a little.

IT is not without Cause, that we have already declared, That the true and most general means to obtain and preserve that Pleasure which makes an happy Life, is to incourage Temperance, by which we may so moderate our Desires, as to resist and cut off all unnecessary and useless Things, and may reduce our selves only to such as are needful and natural, whereby we may accustom our selves to be content with a little; for by this means, we may preserve that Tranquility of Mind, which makes up the principal part of our Happiness; there be∣ing no need that he who hath reduced himself only to the things necessary for Nature, should disquiet and torment himself so much as is usual; for such things are to be found every where, and are easily to be obtain'd. Whereas the cares and disturbances of the Mind torment only such as are not content with things necessary, but are always so eager in the pursuit of things superfluous, that if they meet with Disappointment in obtaining of 'em, they are very much disquieted: If they have acquir'd 'em, they fear losing 'em: When they lose 'em, they pine away with Grief; and if they continue with them, they are still dissatisfied. So that they deal with their Mind, as with the Tunn of the Danaids, they never give it any rest, but being provoked by some fresh Appetite, as by some kind of Fury, they al∣ways seem to undertake new Labour.

This is also the sure way of obtaining and pre∣serving that grateful Repose, which makes up the second part of our Happiness; for he who is con∣tent with things necessary, will never trouble him∣self with those unnecessary Pains and Fatigues, which such are obliged to undergo, who eagerly, tho vainly, pursue Things superfluous; he acts nothing to undermine his Health, he draws not upon him∣self those incumbrances, which usually attend a vo∣luptuous Life; for such as live Frugally and on plain Diet, are rarely subject to Distempers, but rather such who either Eat to excess, or else feed upon Meats, which are not natural, or else corrupted by provoking Sauces or other Artifices of the Cooks. Epicurus, no doubt, had a true Sense of the necessity and excellency of this Vertue of Moderation, when he cried out; That the way to be truly Rich, is to be satisfied with Things necessary. That Poverty, propor∣tioned to the Law of Nature, is a great Fund or Trea∣sury of Riches. Now if you would be rightly inform'd what those just Bounds and Limits are, which this Law of Nature prescribes, they are these, viz. Not to Hun∣ger, not to Thirst, not to be Cold; Non Esurire, non Sitire, non Algere: 'Tis what he had experienced in himself, if we will refer our selves to the Testi∣mony of Juvenal.

If any ask me what would satisfy, To make Life easy, thus I would reply; As much as keeps out Hunger, Thirst and Cold; As much as made wise Epicurus bless't, Who in small Gardens spacious Realms possess't.

This is a commendable Thing, saith he in Seneca, viz. a pleasant and contented Poverty; but if it be Pleasant 'tis not Poverty, for whosoever is satisfied with Poverty, is Rich; for he is not Poor, who enjoys but little, but he

who desires more. In short, as Riches are to be valued for the sake of their End, which is nothing else but Contentment and Pleasure; so on the con∣trary, Poverty appears by the want of this End. It is certain, that a pleasant Poverty is no Pover∣ty, but great Riches; and sorrowful Riches, are not Riches but great Poverty. The Traveller, who sings on the Road, is in effect Rich, and he really Poor, who being loaden with Wealth, dreads the Pistol or the Sword, and shakes for fear at the meer shadow of a Reed, which he perceives to move in a moon-shiny Night. The Tradesman, while he is without Mony, yet pleaseth his Neighbourhood with his musical Ditties; but stumbling on a Purse of Gold, at the same time that he becomes Rich he becomes dumb, being possess'd with the fear of losing it. In short, I pray tell me which of these two dies the Richer, who depart this World at the same time; he who never had those things, which we usually term Riches, and nevertheless hath lived very contentedly; or he who being loaden with 'em, hath led a life full of Vexation and Discon∣tent?

Cicero seems to be much delighted with this Vertue and Moderation of Temper, which obliges us to live and be content with little; for after he had instanced, in the Examples of Socrates and Dio∣genes, That the Burden of Poverty may be made more easie, he alludes to the Words of Epicurus; O, what a little doth Nature desire, what a small mat∣ter suffices it! And Asserts, That Wisdom is often discover'd under mean Apparel. Nay, as if he had undertaken to write the Praises of this Philosopher, he continues his Discourse in this manner,

What then? Those glorious Orators are they more Couragious and more Generous than Epicurus in encountering Poverty, which troubles Mankind

so much? Other Philosophers seem to be as well prepared as he was against all Evils, yet there is none whom Poverty does not terrify; but for his part, a very little satisfies him, and none hath ever better treated of Frugality than he: For as he was altogether averse from whatever might cause the desire either of Riches, of Lust, Ambition, of sumptuous Expences or Delights, &c. Why should he take care to obtain 'em, or be eager in the pursuit of 'em? What! shall Anacharsis the Scythian be able to despise Riches, &c. and shall not our Philosophers be able to do the like?

See here the Contents of one of this Scythian's Let∣ters.

Anacharsis to Hanno, Health,

INstead of rich and glorious Apparel, I use the simple Habit of our Country; for Shoes, the bottoms of my Feet well hardened. The Ground is my Bed; Hunger is my Sawce. I live upon Milk, Cheese and Flesh. Therefore if you come to see me, you will find a Man very quiet; and as for the Presents which you have been pleased to honour me, give them to your Fellow-Citizens, or offer them to the immortal Gods.

All the Philosophers of what Sect soever, ex∣cepting those, whom a vicious Nature hath turn∣ed aside from right Reason, have been of this Persuasion. When Socrates, at a publick Re∣joycing, saw much Gold and Silver carried about, and exposed to publick View; cried aloud, How many things are there, which I don't at all de∣sire? When Xenocrates understood, that the Em∣bassadors of Alexander had brought him fifty Ta∣lents, which was a considerable Sum of Mony at

that time in Athens, he invited the Embassadors to Supper in the Academy, and caus'd 'em to be entertain'd with things moderate and conve∣nient, free from Luxury and Excess. The next day they desired him to tell them on whom they should bestow that Mony they had brought to him? What, said he, did you not take notice yesterday by the Supper that I gave you, that I have no need of Mony? But when he perceived that his Refusal gave them Offence, he accepted of Thirty Minae; that he might not seem to de∣spise the King's Liberality. As for Diogenes the Cynick, he treated him more freely; for when Alexander ask'd him, what he stood in need of? answer'd, At present I need nothing, but that you would not interpose between me and the Sun∣shine. This Cynick was wont to prefer his own Happiness to that of the King of Persia; and to boast how much his Life and his Fortune was more blessed than this Monarchs; he for his part wanting nothing, whereas the other could never have enough: That he desired none of those Plea∣sures, of which the King could never be satisfied, but that he was content with his own, which the King could never be.

This that I have mentioned concerning Dioge∣nes, minds me, what Seneca and Maximus of Tyre have written; for the first having shewn,

That great Estates are often troublesome and the cause of Sorrow and Mischief; That the Rich suffer not more easily the loss of Goods than the Poor; That it is far more tolerable not to acquire than to lose. So that those whom Fortune never fa∣voured seem to be more happy, than those whom it hath forsaken. After he had manifested this at large, thus he proceeds: 'This is what Diogenes, that great Soul, understood, when he put himself

into that Condition, that nothing could be taken from him. 'Call this Poverty, Want, or give whatever disdainful Title you please to this Tranquility, I shall believe that Diogenes is not happy, if you can find any body else, from who•• nothing can be taken. Truly if any question the Felicity of Diogenes, he may as well question the Condition of the immortal Gods, and whether they are less happy, because they have not Pos∣sessions subject to the capricious Changes of For∣tune, and which can be taken away.

As for Maximus of Tyre, he speaks to us in this manner, upon a subject of Dispute, that happened about the Cynical Life, whether it was to be pre∣ferr'd to any other.

Diogenes, saith he, was nei∣ther an Attick nor a Dorian, nor tutor'd in the Schools of Salon or Lycurgus, for neither Places nor Laws communicate Vertue; but he was born in the Town of Synope, in the botton of Pontus Euxinus. When he had consulted Apollo, he for∣sook all the Occasions of Grief and Trouble, he delivered himself from his Fetters, and like a wise and free Bird, pass'd thro' the World with∣out fearing the Tyrants, without binding him∣self to any particular Laws, without applying himself to the Administration of publick Affairs, without being troubled in the Education of Chil∣dren, without being clogg'd by Matrimony, with∣out turmoiling himself in the Manuring of the Ground, without ingaging himself in the Manage∣ment of War, without Trafficking by Sea or Land; for he laught at all these sorts of Men, and at their several stations of Life. As we common∣ly laugh at those Children, which we see so in∣tent to play with Trifles, till they often fall to∣gether by the Ears, and hurt one another. He led the Life of an Independent, being free from

Fears and Disquietudes. In Winter Seasons he did not by long fatiguing Journies approach the Babylonians, nor in the Summer the Medes; but his usual Stages were from Attica to the Isthmus, according to the Season, and from the Isthmus to Attica again. His Royal Palaces were the Tem∣ples, the Colleges, and the sacred Woods: His Riches very large and secure, and which not being circumscrib'd, were not easily to be sur∣prized by Ambushes, being the whole Earth with all the Fruits it bore, and the Fountains that it affords, more excellent than the Wines of Les∣bos and Chios. He used himself also to every sort of Air as the Lions do, and would not avoid the changings of the Seasons, appointed by Jupiter; neither did he study any Contrivance to secure himself from them; but accustomed himself in such a manner to all Seasons, by this kind of Living, that he secured his Health and Strength, without any assistance from Physick, without ex∣periencing the sharpness of the Iron, or the Fire; without imploring the Help of Chiron, or of Esculapius or Asclepiades, and without submit∣ting to the Predictions of Soothsayers, or to magical and superstitious Purifications, or to the Vanity of Conjurations: At the same time that all Greece was in Arms and Uproar, and all the neighbouring Nations were in War one against another, he alone enjoys as it were a Truce with all the Earth, and as having subdued Fighting, was without Arms in the midst of armed Men. Nay, even the basest of Men, the Tyrants, and his ve∣ry Slanderers had a Respect for him, and would not in the least hurt him, tho' he reproved them, objecting and representing before their Eyes their own Actions, which is a very safe and very con∣venient

way of Reproving, proper to re-call the Minds of Men to Peace and Reason.

We may upon this occasion mention Seneca's Ex∣pression, as proceeding from the School of Epicu∣rus.

That those Persons live the most agreeable and pleasant Lives, who make Pleasure the least of their Care. And they enjoy the greatest Riches, who stand least in need of 'em.

For a magnificent way of Living consists chiefly in the ostentation of Riches; he who thinks, that he doth not stand in need of 'em, and therefore fears not the loss of 'em, may without 'em make a very plea∣sant Use of 'em; and the rather because he, who supposes he cannot live happily without 'em, fears the loss of 'em, and while that Fear possesses him, he cannot quietly enjoy 'em; it being impossible to enjoy any thing we call Good, which brings Trou∣ble and Disquietude along with it.

The misera∣rable Wretch, saith he immediately after, pas∣sionately desires to increase his Stores more and more, and while he is blinded with that Passion, he forgets to enjoy 'em; he examins his Receipts, makes up his Accounts, goes to the Exchange, turns over his Kalendar, and of a rich Man he becomes a Factor. We shall be Rich with much greater Satisfaction, when we shall understand, that to be Poor is not so mischievous as we sup∣pose.

But let us rest satisfied with this Instance at present. As it was a pleasant Remark of Socra∣tes, when seeing the great quantity and variety of the Wares that were expos'd to Sale, to be able to say, How many things are there, that I have no occasion for? So likewise if any Person perhaps sees himself in Possession of all those things, and at the same time, when he considers his Houses, his Moveables, his Attendants, his Table, his Cloath∣ing, and all other his Enjoyments, he finds himself

inwardly in a Temper and Ability to say, I have, indeed, all these things, but I can live very well with∣out 'em. I have not an absolute need of 'em, I could live at ease in a House less Magnificent, and mean∣lier furnished; I could well be without that great num∣ber of Attendants, these rare and exquisite Dishes, this rich Attire. If any, I say, is in that happy Disposition of Mind, he may doubtless enjoy with pleasure his Plenty and Glory: For he will under∣stand, that he may with ease want a great num∣ber of things, for which, when we have a too ear∣nest love and longing, they do rather disturb the Peace of our Lives. And by this means he will be the more ready patiently to bear the loss of 'em, upon any Misfortune hapning; and the rather because he will find that they are not absolutely necessary for him. Neither will he take so much Pains nor undergo so many Fatigues and Troubles, as is usual to increase 'em, when he shall consider that he can enjoy more of true and solid Pleasure in a larger Measure, than he now possesseth, when he enjoys less. That what he may gather up more, will not be for his own advan∣tage, but either for his Heirs, or it may be for some ungrateful Wretches, or for Prodigals, or for Flatterers, or for Thieves, and nevertheless that he must disturb his Quiet, and cast himself in∣to a Sea of Trouble, Pain and Sorrow, to procure 'em for them.

And here we may also observe that Seneca had very good Reason to make use of this Sentence of Epicurus, That if any Man having all the Neces∣saries requisite for Life, and thinks himself not Rich enough, tho' he were the Lord of all the World, he would still be miserable. For if any Man who is in a moderate State, fancies that he cannot live as happily as others, who are in a higher and more

eminent Station, truly tho' this Man should not only equal, but out-do them in their Splendour and Grandeur, he would not hereby become more happy, but would still remain miserable, and ne∣ver be satisfied; because of the restless Nature of his Passions, which when they have once pass'd the Bounds appointed by Nature, keep no measures and can never be satiated. As for that other ce∣lebrated Maxim, That whatsoever is necessary for Nature, may easily be obtained, and, that what is hard to be got, is not needful. This is a Sentence that Stobeus and others have borrowed out of Epi∣curus; and which they mention in other Terms: Let Thanks be returned to kind Nature, which hath so ordered every thing, that what is needful is easie to be obtained, and what is difficult, is not of necessi∣ty. Cicero is of the same Opinion, when he makes Epicurus say; That he judged, that Nature alone was sufficient to make a wise Man Rich, and that na∣tural Riches are easie to be got, for Nature is con∣tent with little. And Seneca saith, That according to the Opinion of Epicurus, Not Hunger, not Thirst, not to feel Cold, are the Limits that Nature prescribes to it self; That to satisfy Hunger and Thirst, there is no need of dwelling in sumptuous Palaces, nor to lay any Restraint upon our selves, with that supercilious and sullen Gravity; nor to venture on the Ocean, nor to follow Armies. That which Nature requires is easily to be obtain'd, and obvious to all the World. That Sweat is the Price of Superfluities, such as make the Magistrates attend the Courts, the Captains their Tents, and the Pilots their Ships in the midst of the dange∣rous and tempestuous Seas.

'Tis the greatest Wealth to live content, With little, such the greatest Joy resent;

And bounteous Fortune still affords supply, Sufficient for a thrifty Luxury.

I confess, through the Tyranny and Cruelty of some Men, innocent Persons may sometimes want the necessities of Life, and others by Accident, or by their own Folly, may fall into that Condition, that things needful may be wanting to them. But as for Dame Nature, certainly she is no niggard to Men, she who is the common Nurse of all Crea∣tures: If she hath made them subject to Hunger, she hath likewise bestowed upon 'em her Fruits, her Corn and her Herbs, to appease it. If she suffers them to Thirst, she affords them plenty of Springs in every Place. If the Air be either Cold or Hot, Nature allows them a Skin thick and hard enough to bear these Inconveniences, as it is experienced in the Skin of the Face; and if the other parts of the Body are more tender and sensible, it affords us the Shades of the Trees, of the Caves, and other cool Places, or the Warmth of the Sun-shine, the Fire, the Sheeps Wool, to preserve and defend us against other Enormities.

It hath also given us as much Foresight and Cau∣tion as the Ants, to provide things needful for the time to come; tho' many times we despise the Providence of that little Creature, that after the Winters approach, never ventures out of its pri∣vate retreat, but in a prudent and wise manner, enjoys quietly in Winter, what it industriously ga∣thered in Summer, as Horace observes.

Quae simul inversum contristat Aquarius annum, Non usquam prorepit, et illis utitur ante, Quaesitis Sapiens —

For when we behold the greatest part of Mankind labouring continually to gain Riches, one would think, that we had forgot to use them, and that we were born and designed for no other end, but to heap 'em up.

And if we consider Men in a Civil Society; you will scarce find any who uses never so little Care and Industry, but is able to find enough to satisfy his Hunger and Thirst, and to secure himself from the Inconveniences and Mischiefs of the open Air. And if he hath a plentiful Table, delicious Wines, rich Cloathing, a glorious Palace, Servants well cloathed, and so of the rest; these are Things, for which we are not to return thanks to kind Nature, as being absolutely necessary. The use of those Things that are easily to be obtained, is certainly no less pleasing than of those that are difficultly come at; and it is a mistake to think, that none but rich Men can truly relish Joy and Pleasure.

Nam neque divitibus contingunt gaudia solis.

But we shall speak of this hereafter; it will be sufficient in the mean while to take notice of that excellent Passage of Seneca, which makes very much for this purpose.

Whatsoever is subservient to our good, God, saith he, the common Father of Mankind hath put it into our Hands. He hath not expected, that we should desire it, he hath freely bestowed it upon us, and of his own accord; and the things that are able to hurt as, he hath hid away far from us: So that we can complain of none but our selves, because in spight of Nature, we are endeavouring to fetch them out of the very Bow∣els of the Earth. We have cast our selves blind∣fold into sensual Pleasures, which are the source of all Evils: We have suffered our selves to be

carried away with Ambition, Glory and Vanity. What Advice therefore can I now give you? No∣thing new; for they be not new only, for which we seek a Remedy. The first thing that we should do, is to look into our selves, and to distinguish well between Things necessary, and Things super∣fluous. Necessary offer themselves in every place, there is nothing but what is Superfluous, which gives Trouble and Vexation in the procuring it. Dont think that you have any great cause to value your selves, if you have despised soft Couches, rich Jewels and costly and stately Furniture. You will wonder at your selves, when you shall have contemned things necessary. It is no great mat∣ter to be able to subsist, without this great and Royal State, without being repasted with the Brains of Peacocks, or the Wings of Phea∣sants, nor for the other extravagancies of Luxu∣ry, which put us upon chusing some certain Mem∣bers of Animals, and despising the rest. I shall value you when you will not despise a piece of dry Bread, when you shall be persuaded, That the Herbs grow not only in time of need, for the benefit of the Beasts, but for Men also; and when you shall have learned, That the Fruits of the Trees are sufficient to satisfy you.

O the miserable blindness of Mankind, says Lucre∣tius! Dont we see plainly, that Nature adviseth us nothing but that we our selves should aim at, a freedom from Pain and a Tranquility of Mind; That we should be content with little, and that without these needless Dainties, we should spend our Lives quietly and pleasantly.

O Miseras Hominum mentes, &c. Qualibus in tenebris vitae quantis{que} periclis, Degitur hoc aevi, quodcumque'st. Nonne videre

Nil aliud sibi Naturam latrare, nisi ut, cum Corpore sejunctus dolor absit, mente fruatur, Jucundo sensu cura semota metu{que} Ergo corpoream ad naturam pauca videmus, Esse opus omnino, quae demant quem{que} dolorem, Delicias quoque uti nullus substernere possint, Gratius interdum neque Natura ipsa requirit.

That Diet, saith Epicurus, in Cicero, which is the most Natural, such as Broth, Bread, Cheese, pure Water, affords as much Pleasure, and more Health to the Body, than the most costly Dishes, and richest Wines.' And in Stobaeus he speaks in this manner; 'My Body is abundantly delighted with Bread and Water, and I renounce the Plea∣sures, that proceed from magnificent Tables.

Elian saith,

If I may have wholsome Bread and clear Water, I think my self as happy as Jupiter himself.

And in Seneca, he speaks thus,

We must return to the Law of Nature; her Riches are ready provided, and offered to all the World; for whatsoever we stand in need of, is either free∣ly exposed, or very easily obtain'd. Nature re∣quires Bread and Water, no Person becomes here∣by the poorer, and he who confines his Desires within these Limits, may secure his own Happi∣ness. Look to the true Riches, learn to be satis∣fied with little, and speak out courageously: Let us have Water, let us have Bread, which are the necessary supports of Life, and then we may vye with the Gods for Happiness.

If in your Night Revels your Chambers are not adorn'd and perfum'd, nor entertain'd with soft charming Musick, yet you may upon the brink of a purling Stream, under a shady Grove sweetly re∣pose your self upon the Grass, and without all this Noise, there take your small Repast, pleasantly di∣verting

your selves, with what variety Nature hath deckt the Earth.

Si non aurea sunt juvenum simulacra per aedes, Lampadas igniferas manibus retinentia dextris, Lumina nocturnis epulis, ut suppeditentur; Nec domus argento fulget, auro{que} renidet, Nec citharis reboant laqueata, aurata{que} Templa: Attamen inter se prostrati in gramine molli, Propter aquae rivum sub ramis arboris altae, Non magnis opibus jucunde corpora curant; Praesertim cum tempestas arridet, & anni Tempora conspergunt viridantes floribus herbas.

Are you sooner cur'd of a Fever by reposing your self on a Down-Bed, in a Chamber curiously Painted over, and richly Gilt, than by lying on a plain Bed, with a convenient Coverlid?

Truly we must take heed of entertaining any such Fancy, That an Apricius takes more Pleasure in his rare and exquisite Dainties, than a labouring Man in his plain and ordinary Fair; for such a one be∣ing always full, finds his Appetite continually pall'd, whereas the Labourer daily renews his Appetite, and relishes the sweetness of every thing that he Eats: So that when the former despises his Pheasant and his Mullet, the latter finds a savouriness in his Nuts and his Onions. Truly, he scarce seems to have well experienced Hunger and Thirst, who can't be persuaded, that an ordinary Person may eat with as much Pleasure and Delight as a Prince, only that he defers to sit at his little plain Table an Hour later, than the Prince at his magnificent Entertain∣ment. If men could but once understand these Truths, they would quickly perceive that there is no need to endeavour so much to get great and ex∣cessive Riches, to indulge their Gluttony; seeing

that they may without so much Toil obtain the same Pleasures, and that these Pleasures are more Pure and Innocent. It seems the Poet had this Fancy, when he advises to shun Grandeur; for it is certain, That one may live more contentedly in a small Cot∣tage, than Kings and Princes in their Royal Pal∣laces.

—fuge magna, licet sub paupere tecto Reges, & Regum vita praecurrere Amicos.

But let us understand from Porphyry, how far Epicurus hath advanc'd a plain and abstemious Life, even so far as to suppose it to extend to a total ab∣stinence from Flesh. Thus he says,

We have found what the common People will not be∣lieve, that the Epicureans themselves, who hold Plea∣sure to be the End, for the most part are content since the Days of their Chieftain, with Fruits, Pulse and Broth; and that the chief of their Discourses tend to Teach nothing more, but that Nature is satisfied with a little; that the plainest Food and the easiest attain'd to, satisfies plentifully our Wants, and that what is over and above is only to gratify our unsatiated Appetites, which is nei∣ther in it self needful, nor can be occasioned by the use∣fulness of that, which being wanting, might cause the ruin of the whole, but that it proceeds from vain and foolish Mistakes, with which we are prejudiced.

They say also, That a Philosopher ought to have this Persuasion, That nothing shall be wanting to him the re∣mainder of his Days. Now there is nothing better able to beget that Opinion in him, than to believe, by his own Experience, that he hath need but of very little, and that these things are common and easy to be got; and what is over and above is needless, relating to nothing but Lux∣ury and Excess; and that such things are acquired with a great deal of Pains and Difficulty. So that all the

Benefit and Pleasure that might redound from thence' don't compensate the Labour and Toil we must undergo in the obtaining of 'em, and our continual Care to pre∣serve 'em. Besides, when the Thoughts of Death ap∣proach, we easily forsake little things, or such as are of a mean value and common.

They say moreover, That the use of Flesh prejudices our Health, more than it benefits; because our Health is preserved by those very things, by which it is recovered, when we have lost it. Now it is recovered by a light Diet, and abstinence from Flesh; it is therefore pre∣served by the same means. But it is no wonder if the Vulgar believe, That the use of Flesh is necessary for our Health, for they are persuaded that all the Pleasures which are in Motion and Flattering, are assisting to it; the Pleasures of Love not excepted, which are never good for any thing, but commonly very mischievous.

Horace also seems to have understood the Advan∣tages, that a frugal and sober Life procures, when he tell us; That there is nothing that contributes so much to our Health as to Eat and Drink sparing∣ly, and to be content with the plainest Diet; and that to be persuaded of these Truths, we need but remember a little sober and frugal Meal that we have formerly made; whereas when we glut our selves with all manner of Varieties, part turns into Choler, Flegm and Humours, which causeth Fla∣tus's and Indigestion in the Stomach.

Acippe nunc victus tenuis quae quantaque secum Afferat— —imprimis valeas bene; nam variae res Ʋt noceant homini, credas memor illius escae Quae simplex olim tibi cesserit: At simul assis Miscueris elixa, simul conchylia turdis; Dulcia se in bilem vertent, Stomachoque tumultum Lenta feret pituita. Vides ut pallidus omnis Caena desurgat dubia—

Truly we have cause to wonder, that Men who in all other actions are Rational and Discreet, have so little regard to the manner of their Eating and Drinking, heeding this the least of all other Things.

For First, we ought to stay for the most neces∣sary or convenient time of Eating, for the which we need nothing but an Appetite to direct us; and as Hunger is the most innocent, so it is the most relishing and pleasant Sawce.

Secondly, a plain and frugal Meal recovers the Strength of the Body, and adds Vigour to the Spi∣rits, which seldom happens when we are accosted with great plenty and variety of Meals, which we generally meet with at rich Mens Tables: And these Persons who thus indulge their sensual Ap∣petites, their Pleasures are commonly but of a short continuance, they thereby dulling their Spirits and weakning their Bodies; and if at the same moment no Fevers, Gouts, or other Distempers attend them, yet the Seeds of these Mischiess are hereby laid in the Body, and afterwards conveyed to the several Members by a corrupted Mass of Blood, first occa∣sion'd by a superfluous indigested Diet.

Thirdly, That when our Hunger is satisfied, and the Table withdrawn, there remains to him who hath Eaten and Drunk moderately, this pleasant Thought, That he hath done nothing to prejudice his Health, his Moderation being his Preservative and Safeguard. Neither is he dissatisfied not to have enjoyed that Pleasure, wherewith a Glutton seems delighted, because such Pleasure is of short continuance, leaving nothing behind, but cause for Repentance, unto which he is not so subject as he who thus gormandizes and overcharges his Stomach with variety of rich Dainties. Such a one repents soon, or thinks he shall ere long have cause to re∣pent; nay, he is sure at last to pay dear for his De∣bauchery.

Fourthly, That it is a great piece of Wisdom to take heed, how and what we swallow, for the sake of a little short-liv'd Pleasure, the Causes of so many Diseases, so cruel and so tedious; which Causes we cannot be afterwards freed from, but by nauseus Potions and a tedious continued Course of Physick, which weakens the Body, and might easily be prevented meerly by Abstinence. So that we should not be oblig'd to say as Lysima∣chus did, after he had surrendred himself into the Hands of, the Getae, to allay the Thirst that troub∣led him and his whole Army, O ye Gods! what a great Advantage have I now lost for a little Pleasure of a short continuance?

Fifthly, If we except some few hereditary Di∣stempers, and which may, if not be perfectly cured, at least much alleviated, the Grounds of all other Diseases are frequently occasion'd by Irregularities, or Excess in our Eating or Drinking: For tho' vio∣lent Exercise, Heats, Colds, and other such things, may incline us to Diseases, yet this commonly hap∣pens, because they set afloat the superfluous Humours which were before ingendred in our Bodies by ex∣cess of Wine and good Chear.

Therefore it was observed during that great Plague, that spread all over Attica, that none but Socrates by his extraordinary Sobriety escaped the Infection: And we are not unacquainted with one in our days, who by the like Method was se∣cured from a great Pestilence. I might mention also a Person of great Eminency, who was severely tormented with the Gout, but by my Advice, yield∣ing to live one Year very abstemiously, and scarce to Eat any Flesh (according to the Custom of the Indians, who nevertheless are very healthy and strong, and are rarely troubled with such Distem∣pers) was perfectly cured. Thus it happened hereto∣fore

to the Senator Rogatianus, mentioned by Porphyry, in the Life of Plotinus. So real a truth it is, that Sobriety is an excellent Remedy to avoid and free us from Diseases.

Sixthly, That for one Person who is sick by Fa∣sting, there are twenty Distempers occasion'd by too much Eating. So that Theognides had Reason to say, That Gluttony destroys many more than Hun∣ger.

Perplures quam dira fames, satias male perdit, Qui justo cupiunt amplius esse sibi.

And Horace, according to Epicurus, tells us, That a sober Man who Eats and Drinks but little, is always strong and ready to perform the Duties of his Function; whereas Wine makes the Body heavy, and clouds the Ʋnderstanding, and sinks down the Soul, that part of the Divine Being, to the very Earth.

—quin corpus onustum Hesternis vitiis, animum quoque praegravat una, Atque affigit humo divinae particulam aura: Alter ubi dicto citius curata sopori Membra dedit, vegetus praescripta ad munera surgit.

Besides, we might add this Consideration, That he who endeavours to indulge his Palate in the midst of good Cheer, loses that very Pleasure he would promote, which is easilier obtain'd by a plain and sober Diet for a constancy; sometimes, tho' rarely, admitting of a more plentiful Repast, which at particular times may be allowed by the best of Men, when as the Poet saith, a solemn Fe∣stival invites us to chear our Spirits, and repair weak Nature, decay'd too much by Abstinence or Old Age.

Sive diem festum rediens advexerit annus, Sive recreare volet tenuatum Corpus; ubique Accedent anni, & tractari mollius aetas Imbecilla volet—

In such Cases we are not to make the pleasing of our Palates our main Business, but only by the By; for we shall find that a sober and frugal Life, is better to most Purposes. Besides, it is most cer∣tain, that a wise Man ought rather, as much as his State and Condition of life may permit him, al∣ways to observe the same Manner, Rule and Course of Living; I say, as much as the State and Con∣dition of his Life will allow him: For tho' the manner of Living, in which we are ingaged, may sometimes so intangle us, as that it is no easie Task to keep exactly to the Rule and Manner of Living, that we have prescribed; yet there is no difficulty to keep pretty near to this Rule, if a Man hath so much Constancy and Resolution of Mind, as a truly wise and vertuous Man ought to have. But if he be so weak and fickle, as at the first Temp∣tation to suffer himself to be overcome by his irre∣gular Appetite, it is apparent that Wisdom and Vertue have not taken Root deep enough in his Soul.

If we are perhaps sometimes obliged to be at well spread Tables, where we may seem to be some-what uncivil in not complying with the earn∣est Intreaties and Sollicitations that we meet with; 'tis at this time chiefly that we must shew our Re∣solution and Constancy; and if a Civil and Modest Excuse will not suffice, we must free our selves from that Dusopia, or childish Bashfulness so much condemned among the Greeks, and according to Plutarch's Advice, speak plainly and boldly to any

Friend, what Creon saith in one of his Tragedies; It is better that you should be now angry with me, than that I should be to morrow distemper'd, for having complied with you.

Te praestat infesum, Hospes, esse nunc mihi, Quam si obsequutus deinde graviter ingemam.

For to cast our selves, saith he, into a Fit of the Colick, or into some extream Agony, meerly to avoid being look'd upon as a Clown, or Ʋncivil, is to become both a Clown and a mad Man, and not to understand how we are to behave our selves with Men, in relation to Eating and Drinking.

We must not here forget that excellent Expres∣sion of Epicurus; That a sober and frugal Life, unto which we have by long use habituated our selves, makes us undaunted against the Assaults of Fortune. For as Horace elsewhere says, Which of the two may bet∣ter trust to himself and to his own strength, in re∣lation to the Casualties and Mischances that may happen, He who hath indulg'd his Mind with vast Desires, and us'd his Body to a soft and rich At∣tire; Or, he who being content with a little, and fore-seeing the time to come, shall in a time of Peace, as a wise Man ought, make Provision of such things as are needful for War? Let Fortune vex such a one, and take from him all that she can, how much can she diminish of that which is necessary?

—Ʋter-ne Ad casus dubios fidet sibi certius, hic qui Pluribus assuerit mentem, corpusque superbum, An qui contentus parvo, metuensque futuri, In pace, ut Sapiens aptarit idonea bello?

Soeviat, atque novos moveat fortunna tumultus, Quantum heinc imminuet? &c.

Nor are we to forget what Epicurus boasts of; That his daily Food did not quite amount to one pound, and that of Metrodorus weighed but just a pound. Nor must we omit that excellent Advice which Seneca hath so well deliver'd; Thou dost not perhaps believe, saith he, that in a spare quantity of Food there is sufficient to satisfy Nature? There is, and to spare; for there is Pleasure, not a light and transitory Pleasure, which we must recruit every Moment, but a more fixt and lasting Pleasure without Interruption: For a Draught of Water and a Piece of Barley Bread, are things not very pleasant to the Gust; but then it is a great Pleasure that we can confine our selves to that, which an adverse Fortune cannot deprive us of. The Allowance of a Prison is more Sumptuous and Plenti∣ful, and a Malefactor who is kept in Chains, condemn∣ed to Death, subsists with a small Pittance. What an honour is it to condescend of our own accord to that, which is not to be feared by them, who are reduc'd to the lowest State? By this means we shall prevent the Treachery of Fortune, and stop all her Avenues: For what Power can Fortune have over him, who reckons not as his own, that which she glories in giving and taking away, and is satisfied with that which depends not upon her, thinking it too mean to stoop to her proud Empire?

I'le here cite what Xenophon tells us of Socrates; That he lived upon so small a Pittance, that there was no Handicraftsman, if he took never so little Pains, but might get more than was needful to nourish him. That which hath been already said of Anacharsis, That he sent back the Mony offer'd him, because he needed it not to supply his slender Expences. And it is reported of Epaminondas, that he sent back the

King's Embassadors with the Gold they had brought; and when he had entertain'd them at a plain Din∣ner, he told them, Go and give an account to your Master of this Dinner, that he may understand that a Man content with this, is not to be bought with Mony. I might mention these and other Instances of the like nature, to shew that he who is sufficed with so little, that even Poverty it self will afford, hath no cause to fear the Frowns of Fortune, or the Necessities of Want. But the better to prevent the dread of Poverty, let us take care of what Bion saith in the Writings of Theletes the Pythagorian. These are his Expressions; If things could discourse as we do, would they not, as I may so say, accost us to this purpose? Why dost thou dispute against me, O Man? Art thou for my sake deprived of any advan∣tage of Temperance, of Justice, of Fortitude? Art thou afraid that things needful will be wanting to thee? What, are not the High-ways full of Herbs, and the Fountains running over with Water? Don't I afford thee all over the Earth Beds to lie down upon, and Leaves to cover thee? What, can'st thou not rejoyce with me? See'st thou not Gradiaphyrtus a Beggar, Singing pleasantly, when he takes his Repast? Have not I provided Sawce for thee without the least Expence or Care, namely, Hunger? And doth not he who is hungry relish his Meal savourly without the help of any Arti∣ficial Provocation, just as he who is thirsty drinks large draughts of pure Water with great Desire and Plea∣sure? Think'st thou that Men are hungry for a Cake or thirsty for Snow? And are not these the things, that the Luxury and the Debaucheries of corrupt Men require?

A Description of the Indian Diogenes.

IN relation to this Topick, I think I ought not here to omit, what I know concerning the man∣ner of the Eastern Indians Living, if it were only to shew that all these fine things that we have spoken of, are not only bare Philosophical Speculations, but that there are whole Nations, who lead as spa∣ring a Life, and are satisfied with as little, either for Eating or Drinking, or for Cloathing, as all the Cynicks, Stoicks, or Epicureans ever were. In In∣dia there be many Fakirs, or Religious Idolaters, who as well as Diogenes walk all Naked, and have no other Shooes to their Feet, but their brawny Soles, no other Covering for their Heads but their long Hair, oiled, tressed up, and wreathed upon the top of their Heads, no other Ornaments to their Fingers but long Nails, turned like Claws, and sometimes as long as half the little Finger; their Houses are the Galleries of their Temples, their Beds are three Inches thick of Ashes, and when they go in Pilgrimage, they have the Skin of a Tyger, of a Lion, or of a Leopard, dried in the Sun, which they spread upon the Ground only to sit upon; their Drink is pure Water, and their Food, when they are supplied by way of Alms, a pound of Kichery, which is a certain mixture of Rice, with two or three sorts of Lentills, all boiled together in Water, with Salt, upon which they put a little sorry Butter.

The manner of Living of the Brahmens, or Brag∣manes, differs in nothing from that of the Fakirs, either in Quantity or Quality; for their chief and most substantial Eating, is always Kichery, never

any Flesh; never any Drink but Water. The most part of the Merchants, whom we name Banyans, if they be never so Rich, live in the same manner. Their Food is neither more Plentiful, nor more Delicious than that of the Brahmens, and never∣theless they live as contented, as quiet, and plea∣sant as we do, and far more Healthy, at least full as strong and lusty as we are.