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THe Art that I have undertaken to teach you, most Generous Off-spring, who pro∣fess your selves my fol∣lowers, requires no great study, nor labo∣rious toil. The sympathy I have lodg'd in your hearts, in bestowing a being upon you,
inclines you sufficiently to receive my in∣structions; and Nature her self is not backward in acquainting you with the pleasures that I confer upon all my Pupils. This prudent Mother placeth you under my conduct, as soon as you are capable of understanding me, and you no sooner are acquainted with me, but you take great delight in following me, and heark∣ning to my instructions. For the rest, as I am a Beardless Philosopher, so I must have youthful Pupils, not that I desire to expel those that are somewhat more ad∣vanc'd in yeers from my School; but I must let them understand, that though they are as capable of my Doctrine, as those that are young; they are not in a condition to make so great an improvement thereby; in this their experience is offensive to them, and the number of their years, tends only to the abatement of their felicity. All things appear in their season, the Flowers budding forth in the spring, and my joys are tasted in youth; 'tis only therefore to you that enjoy it, that I am preparing to read my Lectures, as persons
capable of making greater advantages thereby. And as I am not ignorant, that in this age there are many Learned Wo∣men, who take upon them to Philoso∣phize, I shall not scruple to make use of the ordinary terms of Philosophy, and in my Precepts to resemble her's as neer as I can possibly. I will therefore begin my Logick with the Definition thereof.
The Lovers Logick is the Art of discern∣ing true Love from that which is counter∣feit, and of arguing exactly upon all things that may befal them.
YOu must understand that man never really loves, unless the Object that is capable of creating it be presented to his sight. Some there are that have been inamour'd by hearing, others by touch∣ing, but that is of no continuance, unless confirm'd by seeing. Then this very Sense is the Porter that gives me entrance into the heart; 'tis by these two windows of the Soul that I am inrroduced to co-habit
with her: not but that the other Senses afford me their assistance, but I must first enter by the eye. And to the end that this passage may lie open to me, and that I may without difficulty gain my design of the rest, I must be accompanied with a certain Gentlewoman, whom they call Wealth. But when I am destitute of this Pilotess, I have much ado to cruze about with all the craft I am Master of: I find it difficult to pass; nay, when I am just up∣on my entrance into a heart, I am often∣times repuls'd, if the Lady Wealth doth not accompany me: all that I can do to preserve my self when I am destitute of her company, is to strike a League with Wit. It is a Youth well shap'd as to his Person, acceptable in Society, and who is author of rate Compositions as well in Verse as Prose; he hath always a kind reception in all good company; he under∣stands how to gain esteem among people of the greatest integrity, and doth also suc∣ceed indifferently in obtaining the favour of women; but when Wealth is at a di∣stance with Wit, it so falls out some∣times,
that he is despis'd. She is an ar∣rogant Baggage, who is accustomed to treat all those unhandsomly, she is unac∣quainted with: Prosperity her usual companion, swells her excessively with pride, and makes her carriage insuppor∣table to good people. She will often play at foot-ball with Wit and Desert, and raise up ignorance and stupidity. In fine, she values none but those that enjoy her, unless she be attended by vertue.
I give you here a description of their Qualities that you may know how to ap∣propriate them; but though the Qualifi∣cations of Wit are far more noble than those of Wealth, yet for all that, they are not so advantageous: for in the age where∣in we live, her treasures cast a mist before the eyes of all persons in the world; but when we meet all three together, and that we proceed unanimously, we make a great progress in a little time, and scarce encounter any heart that resists. There is another great Youth known by the name of Good-face, the Brother of Beauty, whose society is of very advantagious to me;
'tis he that opens the doors of the eyes, and causeth his Daughter Idaea to enter with me: they are as like one another, as two drops of water, in so much that he be∣ing absent, she supplies her Father's place.
This ingenious Idaea lets slip no oppor∣tunity of speaking well of him that gave her being, she many times entertains the Lady with whom she sojourneth, with the passion that he hath for her, and puts her in mind of those delightful minutes that she enjoyed by his conversation. Whilest she is young, she is very servicea∣able to him, but when she grows in years, she is not so sollicitous. She doth not then so often entertain her Mistress; she appears but seldom in her sight; she begins to seem less obliging; and is at length expell'd by some other person, if not speedily assisted by the presence of the Lover.
How deep soever the impression be she made in the heart; absence will soon wipe it away; that which must be done to con∣tinue it fresh a little longer, is to summon Nature to the assistance of Art; and this
is practic'd several ways. First, let the ac∣complisht Lover endeavor to gain his Mi∣stress Picture, and that afterwards he per∣swade her to accept of his.
Though the Portraictures of these Lo∣vers are dumb, yet they entertain them ve∣ry pleasantly. But there is another kind of speaking-Picture, that is more effectu∣al; this softens the rigors endur'd by ab∣sence, by complaining of those evils which she causeth them to suffer: she speaks without a mouth, and is understood from the remotest parts. It is she that serves as fuel to the fire that I have kindled reci∣procally in two hearts; 'tis she that links them together invisibly by a chain, which time it self can hardly break.
There are two sorts of speaking, as well as of dumb painting; the one called Prose, the other Poetry; this latter resem∣bles Miniature, which is far more de∣lightful than the other, when well com∣pos'd; but the eye of the understanding must be very sharp-sighted that can prompt you to give judgment thereupon; therefore it is prudence in the Painter not
to expose it to the view of all persons. Now the Lover must be satisfied that his Lady is ingenious, before he pre∣sent her with a Copy of Verses, that she may not mistake his witty Sonnets, and passionate Stanzas for Ballads: but, as of∣ten in this kind of Language, they aban∣don their reason to catch at the Rhythme; and that they many times say more, some∣times less than they desire; the use hereof will not prove effectual. Not but that Poetry enjoys many Priviledges which Prose is deny'd; and that you may ex∣press your love to a fair Lady in Verse, which cannot be so freely done in Prose; for there you must take a greater com∣pass, and above all, be sure at the first, you mention not my name. Women do observe this kind of foppery among them∣selves, and fein a displeasure when they hear me nam'd, though they lodge me in their heart, with the greatest joy imagi∣nable: when I am entred, I cannot forbear smiling to see all the close-stool faces they make, to conceal me; but 'tis to no pur∣pose; for I am seldome long in a place,
before I am discover'd. The way to di∣vine it is, for a Lover to strive to discover by some she-servant upon whom he must exercise his liberality or else some she-Confident whom he must make his friend, whether she often discourseth of him: he may also desire one of his most intimate friends to speak somewhat amiss of him before his Mistress, yet so, that it may no way blast his Reputation, to see with what heat she will maintain his concerns; and if she be so cunning as to say nothing Pro or Contra; let them observe the Aer of her Countenance, which undoubtedly carries less dissimulation with it than the tongue; 'tis she that oftentimes publisheth the most mysterious secrets of the heart, whose comply ruddiness discovers my flames, which they with so much pains endea∣vour to keep secret.
Indeed 'tis natural to the fair to blush, when they hear a Person that is dear to them discours'd of; and though they stand upon their guard, this petty acci∣dent usually happens as soon as that rud∣diness begins to rise in the face the shame
that they apprehend will attend them in the discovery, forceth them to blush the more, and appears with the greater lustre. Let not then the Lover doubt of his being belov'd when this accident hap∣pens upon his occasion; but, if possible, let him endeavour to make a discovery in his own person of what is suffered for him, and not rely too much upon his friend.
To Court by Embassadors and Proxies belongs only to Kings and Princes; be∣sides, a Lover is more Eagle-ey'd in that which concerns him so nearly, than a se∣cond person, that hath but a slender inter∣est; he must always in matters of this moment suspect the most faithful, and be∣lieve nothing but his own eyes. The best friend in the world, loves himself better than you, and if he find himself smitten with the same passion, he will make no scruple to dethrone you out of the heart of your Mistress, that he may reign there. Such Treachery as this, is the pro∣duct of every day the whole world over, because not foreseen: and when they re∣solve
to follow me, there are few persons who stand upon their honour so much, as not to violate their faith to their friends.
Hence arise the greatest disorders and and most irreconcileable enmities; but this would force me beside my subject, there∣fore I will treat of this matter more ex∣actly, when I have given it a proper place; and having sufficiently explain'd this first Chapter of Conceptions, which will serve to let you know how I get into the heart; we will pass to the Categories or Praedi∣caments. Logick usually makes Ten: which are Substance, Quantity, Quality, Relation, Action, Passion, Where, When, Si∣tuation and Habit. And I for my part lay down five that are Principal, with their contraries, which make the same num∣ber.
| viz. | Their contraries are: |
| Beauty. | Deformity. |
| Wealth. | Poverty. |
| Youth. | Old age. |
| Gallantry. | Clownishness. |
| Wit. | Stupidity. |
Which you may make use of in the framing of all sorts of Propositions both affirmitive and negative, that conduce to the distinguishing of true Love from that which is false.
BEauty is a Substance and perfect be∣ing, the subject and support without which I cannot long subsist in any one place whatsoever. There are two sorts of Beauty, viz. Immaterial and Material: the former belongs to the Soul, and the latter is lincked to the Body: the one comprehends all the vertues, and good inclinations, that are capable of attra∣cting Love; and the other c••ntains the Symmetry of proportion, the lustre of Complexion, and the comeliness of Sta∣ture, some add the Action; but that is in the same sense under the Jurisdiction of the mind. As there are an infinite num∣ber of Beauties, comprised under this di∣division,
so are the Subjects infinite, that are capable of creating love; some per∣sons are captivated with the beauties of the Soul, and others enchain'd to those of the body; but since these last exceed the first in number, I will make a more strict examination, and exact division of them than the other.
To these are added the accomplish∣ments of the Voice, which participates of both.
A Smooth Complexion, white and red, and each colour be truly pla∣ced, and lose themselves imperceptibly the one in the other; which some Ladies would express by the new French Phrase, demeslee.
Full Eyes, well made of a dark or black colour, graceful and casting a lu∣stre.
A Nose well made, neither too big, nor too small.
A little Mouth, the upper-Lip resem∣bling a Heart in shape, and the under somewhat larger, but both of a vermilion colour, as well in Winter as Summer: and on each side two small dimples easily to be discern'd in their moving up∣wards, which look like a kind of constant smile.
White Teeth, very clean, well ranged in order, of an equal bigness, neither short nor long, but very close set.
A forked Chin, not too short nor too long, and hanging double.
A full, round, or oval Visage.
The Temples high rais'd.
As for the colour of the Hair, opini∣ons are various.
Therefore 'tis indifferent to me which of the three they be, provided the Hair be very long, and thick, loose, cleanly kept, and a very little frizz'd or curl'd in rings; but above all that it be not red, nor come near that tincture. For it were dis∣advantageous to them to have all the o∣ther species of Beauty, if they are of that colour, I have a natural antipathy against it, insomuch, that I oftentimes betake my self to my heels, when I spy it: not but they are usually accompanied with a pure skin, for which I have a great inclination; but the aversion I have for the one, makes
me sometimes abandon the other.
All the remedy that can be is to deceive me at the first, by shaving off all the Hair, or by an industrious concealment of them, shew me those that are of another colour: and as they are purchased, you may have those that are most curious, and of what colour you desire; but this fool∣ish kind of disguise is sufficiently practis'd in this age, so that I need not put my self to the trouble of instructing it; and I have been so often deceiv'd, that it is now a business of no small difficulty to surprize me: my diffidence makes me oftentimes mistake natural for artificial Hair; far from taking the artificial for those that are natural; their extraordinary comliness renders them suspected, especially among Ladies of Quality, although Nature de∣nies it to them, no more than to the most innocent Shepherdess. But in this age Art carries so great a sway in the Macrocosm, that I mistrust all.
Nay, the very men that I have seen im∣pudently masque themselves, for so term the light colour'd Hair of those that are na∣turally
black. But to return to the Ladies, to whom beauty de jure belongs, I am ac∣quainted with some who by their damned Art destroy the most beautiful works of Nature.
I am sometimes so incensed against them, that I have a great mind to put an affront upon them; and I have a kind of itching desire to go and rub their cheeks with the little end of my, to give men to understand the artifices wherewith they endeavour to abuse them. For I phancie no beauty but what is natural, which I have framed; and am an ene∣my to those kind of disguises, that in vain strive to imitate the naturals. But as the Lover cannot take the same liberty, that my absolute Empire over all that is beau∣tiful furnisheth me with, to reform all abuses that are committed; that which he may do, is to take the Lady he waits upon, and suspects to be guilty of such artifice, when she riseth out of her bed. 'Tis then that the paint-box hath not as yet plaid its part, unless by a neat fore∣sight she made use of it the last night. In
this case he must address himself to the waiting Gentle-woman, as to an Oracle, that can only clear all his doubts. But if he will oblige her to relate the truth, he must open his purse, for that incloseth the most mysterious secrets. He shall no sooner produce certain Guests, that dwell there, which they call Guinnies, but they will unriddle him the most obscure aenig∣mas, not only upon this, but any other subject whatsoever, that his curiosity prompts him to understand. But since we have not examined all the natural beau∣ties, let us leave those that are artificial, and return to what remains.
After the Face the Neck, Armes and Hands fall under our consideration; which some Buffoons have called la petite Oye: though their beauty is inferiour to what we have already described, ye•• they produce sometimes strange effects, and there is no heart that can resist the charms of a fair Neck, when she satiates your eye with beholding: those graceful Apples which they bear inflames the hearts of those that are most insensible.
These two fruits are so lovely, that a person is ready to die with a desire of approaching with the mouth to tast them: and is sensible of a pleasant convulsion, when he doth but grasp them in his hand. In fine they are capable of creating my content, but never to satiate me.
The comely proportion hath many charmes to move an affection, especially when accompanied with a free Aer that attracts the inclinations of all persons. We will name six sorts, Great, Small, Mean, Fat, Lean, and in good case which may all delight, if well-proportioned, and furnished with that obliging and disobliging Aer, for which I want a name.
There are besides many other beauties, but as the knowledg of them is of no great consequence, every person bestow∣ing a form upon them according to the dictates of his own Phancie; we will only discourse here of those that are ge∣nerals, and assign the others a place in the number of Accomplishments.
WEalth is a quantity or heaping to∣gether of goods, that may be di∣vided into many parts.
And 'tis of two sorts: the one is com∣pos'd of separate and disjoynted parts, and the other of those that are united and continuous.
Disjoynted Riches is a great number of money, because the parts that go to the
composition of it, have no mutual union between them. This quantity is not mea∣sured, but counted. Number is an accu∣mulation of Unities. Unity is not num∣ber, but the principle thereof. The greatest number is always best; and is boundless, because you may still add thereunto in in∣finitum.
Continuous Wealth is a quantity, the parts whereof are joyn'd together with a continued series, and may be measured; as fair Lands compos'd of great Parks, long Avenues, Woods full of tall Trees, large Meadows and vast champagne grounds, adorn'd with sumptuous Ca∣stles, stately Walks, Orchards and Flower-gardens, the whole enrich'd with clear waters, as well Rivers as Ponds and Fountains, fit for the breeding of good fish, and the refreshment of Lovers du∣ring the violent heat of Summer. In this kind of quantity, we admit only of the superficies, the line being insufficient, and having no occasion for the whole body; unless it be the great bulk of an Apartment which must be furnished from top to bot∣tom
as well with large beds, rich hang∣ings, with silk or golden fringes, as the best Tapistry, and guilt Leather, Pictures, Vessels of Silver, and other materials, which make a man styl'd Rich.
When these two Rivals are se parated and in divers Subjects; this hath a great advantage above the other; not but that I have a strong inclination to the former, and would freely abandon Riches to be of the Retinue of Beauty; but I have a Brother known by the name of Self-love, that opposeth with his whole strength, and will never permit me to do it. There also accompanies him a certain Relation of his call'd Interest; that leaves no stone unturned in order to my obstruction, they come often and ravish me by violence out of the very embraces of Beauty to enslave
me to Wealth. 'Tis no small disturbance to me, but I am the weakest, and there∣fore I must obey them. What am I ca∣pable of doing against them both. My Brother Self-love is lustier than I, and is of himself able to work my ruin, when I walk not hand in hand with him; I must be in favour with him if I intend to continue long in any one place; and I never could find a better way for my own preserva∣tion, than tacitly to submit to his pleasure in all things; not but that I often do things of my own head, without his ad∣vice; but he soon makes me repent it. Which falls out seldom when I have Wealth my Companion.
Not but that I frequently tire my self in the pursuit of one and the same object, in the midst of plenty as well as elsewhere: for I naturally affect variety, and cannot long subsist with enjoyment that is not attended with difficulty. 'Tis this that reinvigorates my desires, and furnisheth me with a new supply of strength; but I am no sooner Conqueror, then the incli∣nation I have to fight makes me carry any
arms elsewhere. If you would have me continue in one place, you must occupy me; that is, you must always lay some petty Remora's in my way, that I may ma∣ster them.
Which hath sometimes caused in me this reflexion, that the jealousy of Hus∣bands was of no use ordinarily but to en∣tertain me in the hearts of their Wives, and of their Gallants a longer time, be∣cause of the difficulty of the fruition of their pleasure, whereas on the contrary I find that too great a facility makes them slight one another, and forceth me, either to change my Residence, or my Object; because I never stamp so high an esteem upon what I possess; as what I do not enjoy.
Beauty and Wealth, as amiable as they are, cannot afford me satisfaction, when I enjoy them peaceably. I would besides have Youth, without which I cannot judg my felicity complete.
YOuth is a necessary quality of Love, and an Accident almost inseparable from its Substance, which is Beauty.
We will lay down two sorts, viz. from twelve to twenty years of age, and from twenty to thirty. As for men they may make it of longer continuance, and it is more acceptable to them above than short of twenty. But with women 'tis otherwise, and the greatest part of men, imagine the first age more amiable than the last. Yet there are some who do not love those that are too young, but would have persons perfectly made, and not to be made again; but there is a smaller number of this sort of people, than of the other. Which is the reason why
As these years are more esteem'd by her than the other, it is but just that she make them continue a little longer, and they cannot afford them less time than that of the Roman Lustrum; and as they are promoted in stature as they grow in years, their years are longer as they in∣crease. When they arrive at the age of twenty, they take up their rest, as being tir'd with so long a journey, and make a stand, till they come to thirty, and then they affirm they are one and twenty, and when at length the hair begins to shed, and that they have pass't the age of forty, they contend so long with old age till they are overcome, and then they strive dayly to repair the dammages it doth them, sometimes by the artificial application of a small piece of Ivory, to stop up the breaches that old Age hath made in their mouths, sometimes by putting some Pomander sweet-balls the smell whereof is more pleasant than that which usually proceeds from thence. Sometimes by smoothing the furrows in their cheeks, or making them more full and plump
with small Spunges which they place on ••ach side of their mouth, to supply the ••efect of their maigreness: and sometimes also by colouring their hair as black as 〈◊〉〈◊〉 Crow, when they are as white as 〈◊〉〈◊〉 Swan.
Yet there are some of these fair-aged women, who pretend a right to create Love, especially when accompanied with Gallantry; 'tis by this means that ••hey imagine a possibility of supplying the ••efects of Youth in them, and repairing ••he losses they have made. This designe ••bligeth them to sweeten their aspect, ••nd to use constantly obliging and flat∣••ering language, and to make the best ••dvantage they can of their decorum. If ••ny one lets slip a word that relisheth of ••he flourish or complement, th••y have an Answer ready, and endeavour to engage ••im more deeply in the Combat; it is to ••o purpose for him to recede, for they ••ursue him, till they have extorted a ••onfession from him, that he hath no ••hancy to make. After they have thus ••lapt (as I may so say) a Pistol to his
Breast, to compel him to an acknow∣ledgment of what is false, they give him fair hopes of enjoying that which he least desires. In fine, they set themselves for∣ward as much as in them lies, and there wants nothing but his consent to make up a speedy agreement; but he is no sooner absent, but he forgets what pass't in dis∣course, it flies away with the breath tha•• gave it birth, without leaving the lea•••• impression in his mind. Nevertheless th•••• superannuate Beauty flatters her self with a new Conquest.
Not but that Gallantry proves often ef∣fectual, whilst accompanied with Youth and Beauty, but she is but weak of her self yet she is longer liv'd than either of thes•• two, and time hath not the same powe•• over her. When she is bestowed upon 〈◊〉〈◊〉 Lady, she seldom deserts her, and usually attends her to her grave. 'Tis true tha•• when she grows old, and at a certain stay, she appears no longer a la mode; she will not ordinarily alter her decency as others do; she rejects the new modes of discourse, and finds none so gentile as
those which were us'd in her time. And it fares alike with her in all things else; no∣thing seems so commendable as what was then in use. The World is not so polite, nor molded to her phancy; they dance not with that grace, they are not so dex∣terous in all sorts of exercises; they have not such active Spirits; the wearing of Apparel is not so exactly understood; Treats are not so sumptuous, and their Diversions are not so well manag'd: but ••ow we have discours't of Antique Gal∣lantry, we must say somewhat of that which is Youthful.
If she hath never so many Courtiers she studies to satisfy them all by feeding them with fair hopes; and when she hath many in her Company, she makes as if ••he would please them all;
Not but that in this great number 〈◊〉〈◊〉 Admirers, she hath some single pers•••• whom she makes choice of; for as pu••∣sant as I am, my Empire cannot be di••∣vided, but a dissolution follows. So tha•• when I give a Lover dominion over 〈◊〉〈◊〉 Heart, the rest can find no Residen•• there: but as Galantry exactly under∣stands the method of my proceedings she is careful how she declares her self i•• favour of a single Person, for fear of lo••∣sing all the rest. Which breeds in the•• minds a certain monster call'd Jealousy who although indebted to me for his be∣ing, yet is sometimes so unnatural as t•• strangle me: but as Jealousy owes its Be∣ing to my Enemy, which is Hatred, a well as to my self; 'tis no wonder if sh•• be not always on my side; this wicke•• Mother gives her pernicious advice which still tends to my destruction.
To animate her the more against m•• she puts him in mind of the ingratitude o•• her that bore me, she gives him a Cata∣logue of all my past service, she shew•• him the defects of him that is favoured by
this fair one, and forgets not her own neither. In fine, she leaves no stone un∣turn'd to perswade her and my Danghter to banish me out of the Heart, to supply my place, and remain sole Mistris Regent.
But as Jealousy is as much indebted to me as Hatred, she doth not accomplish her designs without some difficulty, and I usually obtain the victory being assisted by Beauty. 'Tis she that makes Jealousy espouse my quarrel, and immediately dissipates all the conjurations of her Mo∣ther Hatred; 'tis she that calmes the tempests that were raised in the Hearts; 'tis she that disarms Envy and Anger, that lie in ambush for my destruction, and that makes me gain a glorious victory over all my Enemies.
RElatives, are two things that have a mutual dependance one upon the o∣ther, and so are so concatenated, that the understanding cannot conceive the one
without the other. As for example, I cannot phancy to my self that there is a Lover, without concluding he hath a Mistress; nor a Mistress without ima∣gining she hath one or more Lovers.
There are several sorts of Relatives; some are perfect, the other imperfect; the perfect are, the party Loving and the party Loved; because these two are so linked together, that the one subsists by the help of the other, and seem to make but one and the same; though they are two distinct things.
The imperfect Relation is that, which is between the Lover and his Mistress; for 'tis probable that she may not answer the passion of the former, and the Lover can have but one Mistress; but she may have several Lovers, who will be related to her as many several ways, as the punctum in the Center of a Circle, which is made as often as you draw a Line from this point to the Circumference.
One and the same thing may have the name of two Relatives, but in several respectts; as, she can be but Mistress to
one person that is Lover to another. There are also some other Relations, that are contrary and opposite. As Beauty and Deformity, Wealth and Poverty, Youth and Old-age.
MOst amorous Actions are subject to the Government of the Spirit that imprints its virtue upon the Object which I present, and sooner finds out the Art of pleasing that person, that hath pleased her.
There are several sorts of tempers; some are serious, the other jovial; some are full of fire, and others attended with languishing, and yet come to the same end, though they make use of different means to attain thereunto.
At first I have no small trouble to in∣sinuate my self into him that is Melan∣cholick; but when I once have admission, I make so strong an impression; that
time it self finds all the difficulty in the world to wear it away. And these are the persons I make constant Lovers.
As they are naturally apt to conceive things of great moment; so they manage their Passion after a more lofty and stately manner than others do, as if it were an important affair for the good of the State.
Those that are of a Jovial Spirit do steer a quite contrary course: they pro∣ceed in their most weighty concernments, as if they were but bagatels. They laugh in the midst of their sufferings, and make
it their business to jest with all things: not but that they have their hours of di∣sturbance as well as others; but their na∣tural propensity to jollity, soon buries all things in oblivion. They oftentimes accomplish their desires more successfully by playing the Buffoons, than others by their passionate Complaints; for I na∣turally avoid grief and sadness, and love to live and be among divertisements and pleasures.
The Fiery Spirit usually comes short of the success of the Languishing. The fiery temper cannot endure a repulse, he is dayly transported against those impe∣diments that oppose his felicity. And because he usually undertakes so much, he seldom succeeds in any thing; unless he attaque such Places as are taken by Parly, and yield at the first Summons.
'Tis my usual custom to confer my fa∣vours upon those that are bold, as well as Fortune's; but sometimes I inflict pu∣nishments upon those that are too impu∣dent: for by this means it falls out, that a person might have gain'd a Ladies fa∣vour, who loseth it by a precipitate at∣tempt. So a man may also work his own ruin upon the accompt of his Mistress, for letting slip a favourable opportunity offe∣red, and for not making advantage of that happy moment, which they call the Critical Minute: yet the first way of procedure is far less dangerous than the last, and I should advise a Person to in∣cline rather to boldness than fear; for 'tis the former discovers this fortunate hour, though it seems but short in comparison of an eternity.
Yet he who meets with it must not trouble himself with others, provided upon the discovery he find himself dis∣pos'd to make a right use of it.
But let us return to the Spirit; 'tis this then that acts well or ill, as it is well or ill inclin'd: there is besides another kind of
malicious Spirit yet artifieial, that creates a great deal of business to it self, that o∣thers may not want it; it is naturally supple, complaisant, and very fruitful in Invention. He that is so qualified, leaves nothing unpractic'd to obtain his designs, and he is forced ordinarily to make use of Obloquy, and Flattery, as he finds the one or the other favours his Undertakings, The latter is very proper to ingratiate him into the Ladies favour, and the former renders him a redouted Enemy to all his Rivals.
But if his crafty wiles come once to be discovered, it serv's to unite them more firmly, and he seeks his own ruin in the destruction of others, he becomes the Object of his Mistresses hatred, and his Rivals revenge, and then is the time that he stands in need of Valour to repel the affronts that may be thrown upon him.
For if they know he is destitute of this quality, he runs the risque of leading an ill life: 'twill be to no purpose for him to hover about with his accustomed adresses; he will ever encounter with
some person or other who will take off this vizard, which will not happen if he be valiant. They will deliberate upon it more than once, before they resolve to offend him, they pretend ignorance of those things they certainly understand, and he hath the power to make himself fear'd, though he cannot make himself belov'd.
But it fares otherways with the Spirit, that is no sooner hated than rifled; and as there is no great hazard in encountring it, so they crowd after it to attaque it; not but that it hath Arms defensive and offensive, but they are not so dangerous as those that belong to Valour: for the one aims at the life, and the other endea∣vours only the shipwrack of honour and reputation: but though the world is of opinion, that the latter is more accep∣table than the former; yet they are no•• so careful in the preservation thereof: the reason is, because it is easier to repair the injury done to them, than to cure great wounds: and those that love to sleep in a whole skin will tell you, that
Reputation, like the hair on the Head, soon returns again. To conclude this point, they agree that it is better to have the Spirit your Enemy, than Valour: and that it is a more facil business to re-esta∣blish an injur'd reputation, than to gain a new life.
Without this 'tis a brutish thing, ca∣pable of bad as well as good actions: and they account it a piece of Honour to ven∣ture pleasantly upon affronting another: they spend the greatest part of their time in rashness, or at least in playing the Rodomontado's; when they are destitute of Spirit, they usually are attended with the contrary stupidity, 'tis a blind guide that makes them frequently mistake falshood for truth, that leads them to Precipices, and renders them altogether incapable of noble Actions: it seldome
prevailes in obtaining Ladies favours, 'its heavy and dull humour cannot fuit it self with the subtilty and delicacy of theirs; they have too good judgment to make so bad a choice; and all that it can expect, is to be their laughing stock and scorn.
Stupidity, otherwise called Sottishness, is of two sorts; the one mute, and the other talkative; the latter serves to di∣vert good Company, and affords a good subject of mirth at its own expense, by its foolish questions or ridiculous stories: sometimes the person would appear to be some body by affording his advice in what he understands not, and venturing boldly upon a decision of the most intri∣cate questions; but never appears so pleasant, as when he intends to be wel-worded, then he gathers together a mass of hard words, but is ignorant of their signification, and perpetually harps upon them that are not the cause; but they receive a return with use for the diversion afforded, when he begins to be imper∣tinent and troublesome by prolix and
tedious discourses, and when he hath engag'd himself to relate you a story, your whole day must be spent in hearing. You cannot possibly withdraw your self, for he proceeds from particular to par∣ticular, and every minute sallies out of the subject. Not unlike a traveller who hath lost his way in a Wood, who knows not on which side he marcheth, nor how to extricate himself. Now as the Spirit hath a natural antipathy against Sottish∣ness, he is upon an insupportable rack, if compell'd by any consideration to give ear unto it, then he becomes the Patient, though upon all accounts else whatsoever he is usually the Agent.
PAssion is the reception of the Vertue of the Agent; as when a curious eye darts love with its glances, this effect is called passion.
And there are several kinds of it; the most insupportable of all is Poverty, and
it is almost impossible that we two should continue long in one place; there are some Passions that would in the conclusion destroy the Patient, if they went on in∣creasing as this doth, and there are others that perfect the subject that receiv's them, as increase of Riches, Wit, Beauty: As for Youth that is always decreasing.
There are besides pleasant Passions, as the sight of a beautiful object, and the reception of the love created thereby.
The Agent oftentimes suffers whilst acting, and the Patient acts upon its A∣gent: and this happens when a Beauty receives me, at the same time that s••e gives me; then the Lover and the Party lov'd are Patients and Agents both at once, and have each of them particularly both these distinct powers within them∣selves. When this happens, the Lover hath reason to hope that he may have the fruition of his happiness; but if this fair one recede and denies the reception of my love after she hath created love in me, he must storm and exclaim against me for injustice: nay I permit him to rail, and to speak injuriously of me in her pre∣sence,
and to reproach me before her with the evils that I force him to undergo. But when he perceives that his complaints begin to take effect, according to his de∣sire, he must never put a period to them, till he arrives at the chiefest point of his happiness: when he hath receiv'd a fa∣vour from his Mistress, he must look upon it as a step to raise him to a higher degree of good fortune. In this I imitate Ambi∣tion, that sets no value upon what is al∣ready possess't, as long as there remains any thing to be desir'd, yet he must not fail to testify his gratitude when he re∣ceives some inconsiderable favour, but his hopes must be boundless. If therefore he find that he begins to creep into her affection, let him complain that is not sa∣tisfactory, till he hath received some infallible testimonies, that will put the Passion she hath for him beyond all scruple whatsoever; then let him enjoy his fe∣licity at large, till time and habit joyn'd to the natural inclination I have to change, make me take Wing to some other place: for I do not love to lay long
Siege to a place that makes no farther opposition.
'Tis therefore to you Lovers only that I relate these things; for as to the La∣dies, I do not make it my business to dis∣cover my thoughts so freely to them. On the contrary, I employ my best Oratory to perswade them as much as in me lies, that they will never forsake them, that the favours they bestow upon their Lo∣vers, are as so many chains to oblige them more strongly to their service, and that they have too noble a Soul not to acknowledg it; that they are too gene∣rous to violate their faith, that they have by frequent Oaths sworn to keep; and that they themselves are too amiable to admit of this fear, that they will ever take up a resolution to desert them.
But we must proceed no farther in the
explanation of this Chapter, let us there∣fore return to the Predicament of Passion, and conclude, that to render it acceptable it must be reciprocal in two hearts, and that the Beauty that causeth it, receive it at one and the same time.
WHere, is no other but a Term that denotes the particular place of a Subject, when you answer to a Question. As for example, if they should ask where is the young Climene? She is at a Ball, at a Comedy, she is Hunting, Where is Love? It is in the Eyes, and frequently in the Heart; for I can be in both these places at once: which is the reason why My Philosophers affirm, that the beautiful Ladies are a in a place circumscriptive, and I in them definitive i. e. that I am there without taking up any place. I have also the faculty of being in several places all at once.
In what place soever I am, I am still the same Love; 'tis true that every one cloath's me according to his own phancy; and makes me deliver my self in what Language he pleaseth; but I change not my Nature, though I do the Country: and though I am now in England, and at present speak to you in English, yet I am nevertheless at the same instant in all the corners of the Earth, and speak a thou∣sand several Languages.
WHen, is not time it self, but it is a designation or remark of time; as for example if the Question be, When is it proper to love? The Answer is, in Youth. When are Lovers happy? In the Critical Minute. When doth that happen? Often∣times, when you least think of it.
SItuation denotes the posture of the Sub∣ject; As when one would know whe∣ther Climene lies extended on a Couch, or stands upright. Whether a Ladies Lover is kneeling, standing, or in some other posture more advantageous to him, as you may say, incircled in her arms.
There is another kind of Situation, that is worthy observation, viz. Whether the Lover or his Mistress are rich or poor; for my Situaiion often depends upon that
of Fortune. Heretofore I did discharge my self very well without her, and I could unite two Hearts without any regard had to the inequality of their conditions. How many Kings have been captivated with Shepherdesses, and how many lovely Gentlemen have assum'd the boldness to raise their thoughts up to the very Thrones of their Sovereinesses, and have prospered in subjugating of their Wills? But this time hath made it self Wings, and is flown away, and ambition hath so strongly seized the empire of Hearts in this latter age, that I am not permitted to act, but when I can contribute to her promotion, she is an imperious and cruel Dame, that enrols none in the List of her Retinue but such as can aggrandize her, and looks upon one with no other eye, but as a person that can satisfie her Coveteousness. If I propose a person to her whom Fortune hath rancked in a lower Sphere, she looks upon me as ridiculous, and despiseth him though he be the absolute Model of perfection and vertue.
BY the Habit we understand all sorts of external Ornaments, as well for Men as Women, as Garments of fine Stuff enriched with gold-plated Buttons, curious Venetian Points, and other toyes which make the accoutrements complete; but here are certain Maximes to be ob∣served.
First, That all the Garments worn be a la mode, that they be always new, and that you have variety for change: to avoid all extremes, and extravagant Fashions, and not to be concern'd with the introducing of new ones, but follow these that are most generally approv'd; to change when others change, and never to have any thing that is extraordinary, or affected. If at the same time different Garbs are in Fashion, in that Case it argues Prudence to make use of those that are most commodious, be it either to shrowd some imperfection of the bo∣dy,
or to shew some perfection which others have not. E. g. If a man hath a handsome well-shap'd Leg, let him shew it as much as he can, and let him wear a silk Stocking drawn up straight without pestring himself with large Tops, as the major part of young Courtiers do, who had rather expose their expences to the publick view, than the advantages that Nature hath bestowed upon them. If they have a good head of Hair that is somewhat brown, they will not scruple to hide it under a very light Perruque: but this is not the use that should be made of it; for a person should never make use of those advantages that may be drawn from Art, unless it were to repair the de∣fects of Nature.
Not but that Habillements are very ad∣vantageous, especially to Women; for that Lady may be judg'd an extraordi∣nary Beauty, whilst she is seen in a noble Dress, who will lose the greatest part of her charmes, when devested of her Appa∣rel. And those that are experienc'd do not love to be seen in a careless Garb, and
when they are surpriz'd, will take suf∣ficient notice of it: and as they know the advantages of a Dress and their other accoutrements, they make it their most important and ordinary business. In the Morning, as soon as they are up, the first thing they do is to salute their Glass, and consult with it, to know whether they have gain'd or lost any Graces since they last convers'd with it. And as the Meroir naturally hates dissimulation and flattery, it never masques the truth, for if their Eyes be sunk, it freely gives them notice of it, though this doth not much please them. No flowry Compliments or other expressions are so acceptable as what comes from hence; the ambition they have to attract them, makes them attire themselves in their Glass, 'tis true they make many strange Faces before the Mirvir gives a pleasing Representa∣tion. Then they immediately bridle in their Chin, and make horns upon their heads with their Hair, the Looking-glass, that is like an Ape, counterfeits them, and shews them the horns also, when
they smooth their Hair the Looking-glass smooths it also; and when they raise it, it raiseth it likewise, and gene∣rally doth every thing they do. After that they have spun away the Morning in ordering their Hair, and their Pen∣dents, and making little rings upon their Fore-heads, which they fasten with mouth-glew, and rightly placing their Ear-rings and other Toys, and that the Glass acquaints them their Head is well drest; then they begin to commit their Body to a close imprisonment, and pinch it in so narrow a compass, that the best part of it's plumpness, is forced to rise toward the Neck, to emancipate it self from such hard captivity: and being proud of her liberty, appears with a kind of pleasant briskness, which becomes her infinitely. As for her fair Breasts they are half imprisoned and half free; and do their utmost endeavour to procure their absolute liberty, by shooving back that which veils the one half; but they are too weak to effect it, and whilst they strive to free themselves they cast
over a Veil, which perfectly hides them. The desire they have to be expos'd to view makes them beat it back continually, and not being able to remove that small obstacle, they look quite through it: there is nothing constantly free but the upper part of the Neck, which is also more vain-glorious, than all the rest, and is adorn'd with a Neck-lace of great va∣lue, which addes to its vanity. When the fair one is thus accoutred, she turns on all sides before the Glass, as if she would ask the question, What it thinks of her? And when he likes it, she takes her leave, and orders the Horses to be put in the Coach, and then she goes to bestow a visit upon some Assembly of Ladies, that she may not altogether lose the pains she hath taken in her at∣tiring: after they have done comple∣menting, their discourse is generally about the Habit; and if one, Woman among them hath any new thing on, that hath not been formerly seen by the rest, they will seldome pass without taking notice of them all, and make a strict examination
of them; and will express themselves, during their observation, in this man∣ner,
And so they turn her round to see if her Robes are well made, every one considers of it, and delivers her opinion; and though they sit as exactly as ever Garment did: they will always find some fault, and then it runs the hazard of be∣ing sent back to the Taylor more than once; nay there are none, but those that bear one another a spleen, but will ad∣vise one with another, when they per∣ceive any defect: and on the contrary
'tis then, they speak most in commenda∣tion. But let this suffice as to the Predi∣came•••• 〈…〉〈…〉 ••abit.
All things that are in the Universe are contained under these ten Categories or Predicaments, which I have made use of to assist me in the framing all sorts of amorous Propositions, or Enunciations; which go to the Composition of my Arguments. But it is not sufficient to have considered them in themselves, ab∣stracted from all manner of Subjects, we must also look upon them as fit instru∣ments to frame an Argument, and as things depending upon Persons, of which we desire to discourse: and as the way to understand throughly the nature of every Subject, is to examine it in gene∣ral, and in particular, to know its Diffe∣rence, Property and Accidents, we will ex∣plain all these things, before we frame our Arguments.
THe Genus is a Term that contains many things differing in Kind; as Beauty is a chief and universal Genus, which comprehends within it self all kinds of Beauty; as well those that appertain to the Soul, as those which are annexed to the Body, as you may see in the Division before mentioned.
THe Species ought to be considered two ways: the former respects the Genus that over-rules it, and the latter the Individuals that are subjected there∣unto; insomuch that to give it a true
Definition, you must say, It is a nature compris'd under the Genus, which com∣prehends within it self several Individuals. As for instance, The comely Stature is a Species, that falls under the summum Ge∣nus of Beauty, and which may be commu∣nicated to several distinct Persons, and yet no necessity that they be endowed with all other Beauties; for one Person may have excellent Eyes, that hath no good Mouth; and she may be of a good Stature, that hath a very deformed Look.
There are some sorts of Species that may sometimes admit of the name of the Genus; because they contain several o∣ther Species, though contain'd under a summum Genus. There are others that
are very particular, altogether made up of Individuals; but because they help to complete the Species, 'twill not be amiss to explain what Individuals are. The Individuum is properly a Subject distinct from all other, which cannot be divided without being destroyed. Thus Phillis is separated from Aminta, and they be∣tween them both have nothing in com∣mon, though they both of them have the same Species of Beauty. I my self that am communicated to every Being in Na∣ture, that am a summum Genus, under which are contained an infinite number of Loves, yet I cease not to be an Indi∣viduum; not but that a fair Lady may bestow me upon many at once, but she can never receive me but from one single Person. When I make a Lover affect any Person, it is in vain for others to pretend to find room in his heart, unless he expels the first Object: and the Spirit of man, though of so large a capacity as to be able to comprehend the whole World, cannot love two different Per∣sons with one and the same affection, at
one and the same time. So that I cannot divide my self but I must be ruin'd: yet I can easily unite two Hearts with so strong a tie, that they will seem to be but one, provided they be of a different Sex. For as to those obligations between Man and Man, which they call Friend∣ship, they are so weak, that the smallest inconsiderable Interest in the World is able to cancel them.
DIfference is a Word, by which we understand all the distinct parts of a Subject, as well in regard of the Genus as the Species and Proprium. As for instance when they ask me, What is a Woman? I answer, she is an amiable Creature,
who by her external form, which is Beauty, differs essentially from Man; and so of the other Differences, which it is not convenient to mention here.
I will content my self with acquainting you, that I ow my being to that distincti∣on of both Sexes: and there is a certain Lady known by the name of Modesty, who commands me to instruct you no farther in this subject; therefore I leave you to guess at the rest.
Differences are of several kinds; but the greatest of all is, when two Persons meet in two contrary Predicaments, as when Climene is in the Category of Beau∣ty, and Callisto in that of Deformity. When Thyrsis is in that of Riches, and Silvander in that of Poverty
The essential Difference is between subjects that differ in nature, as Thyrsis and Climene, the accidental in persons that differ only by accident, as in that which is met with between Thyrsis and Silvan∣der, 'tis by this that the same Individual person may differ from it self, by reason of the various Accidents that may hap∣pen, being quite another thing in Plenty than what he is in want, and in Youth than in Old-age.
Besides I have several other Differences which bestow as many several names upon me.
They that think they have cause to ex∣claim against me, call me Tyrant Love; but they injure me by that Title; for I never force any one to love against his Will. 'Tis certain that I treat not all
my Subjects alike, and that I have always a certain number of Favourites: but they that are not in this Catalogue, must com∣plain against Nature that hath denied them those qualities that are capable of creating love. But you will say Natures Masterpieces for Beauty put up their com∣plaints against me as well as others; To which I answer, most men cry out, be∣fore they are hurt, and to convince them I do them more good than injury. I find they are so infinitely pleas'd with the torments I expose them too, that they would not for all the good in the World be exempted from them; besides when I find that they are too severely handled by a Lady.
'Tis him that you may justly call Ty∣rant;
for when he hath brought two hearts under Subjection, death only can affranchise them. He and I cannot agree, he pretends a right of Command over me, and I am unskill'd in Obedience; He would fetter me, and I enchain o∣thers, and he endeavours to clip my Wings, which is my greatest beauty; not but that we agree sometimes, and act together by consent; for he frequent∣ly stands in need of my assistance; yet I seldom give him admission into any place, but I my self am soon turn'd out.
Of all the Differences I am capable of receiving, I am never more taking than when I am a Gallant Lover.
But to explane my Differences to you, is not sufficient to make you understand my Nature, I must also teach you my Properties.
PRoperty is that which essentially agrees with the nature of every thing; as it is the Property of Beauty to produce Me, and it is My Property to make Beauty be∣lov'd: not but that I can subsist without her; but that only happens by chance, and virtue of some occult quality; yet the person that produceth Me, must have some kind of Beauty, though she hath not all perfections in general; for else I am but short-liv'd, Youth her self though never so charming, were not capable of fastning upon me if attended with De∣formity. But as Beauty is rarely found without Youth, so you seldome encounter Youth but accompanied with some kind of Beauty.
There are Properties that agree with
the Species, but not with all the Indivi∣duals; as, Beauty is proper to Women, and yet Iris may be judg'd beautiful, though Climene may not be so accounted for the same thing.
In effect Women have very different inclinations among them, and every one phancies some peculiar Property. This person will be proud of her Beauty, which consists in the Symmetry of her face, the other will boast of her noble sentiments and grandeur of her Soul; another desires to be commended for the warbling notes
of her sweet Voice; and another to hear the noble qualifications of her mind praised. 'Tis the same with men, for they value nothing at so high a rate, as that in which they believe themselves sin∣gular, insomuch that to please one ano∣ther they must commend what is pecu∣liar to them above all other qualifications whatsoever. E. g. If a man boasts of the Nobility of his Ancestors, you cannot lay a greater obligation upon him, than to entertain him frequently in discourse about that Subject; because he is per∣swaded that honour is so appropriated to him, that it can belong to no other per∣son. It is my custome to produce this effect in every Individuum, to make them love that which is a part of their Being, and that which essentially agrees with their nature; which is the reason I am sometimes call'd Self-love; and whilst confin'd to one subject they may well stile me so; but assoon as I act externally, by uniting two individual persons, I change my nature, then I cause the person loving to abandon his own Interest, and fol∣low
that of the belov'd Object.
'Tis by this mutual sacrifice that their Souls seem to transplant themselves that they may be reciprocally united and me∣tamorphos'd. And this is the reason my Philosophers maintain, that Love is more where it loves, than where it animates. I have a great many more Properties, but as they are almost all accidental, 'twill be sufficient for my purpose to explain what an Accident is.
WE call all Circumstances move∣able or separable from one subject, that may subsist, or not subsist, without the destruction of the subject, Accidents. As Wit and Valour are two Accidents which may, or may not be inherent in a Man, and yet he continue Man still; since there are many men that live in slothfulness and stupidity.
There are certain Accidents called in∣separable, because they never separate
selves from the person with whom they are connate; as those four that I nam'd but now. There are some passant, which have but a certain prefix'd duration, as Youth: and some there are that may be lost or gain'd, as Honours and Riches.
Accidents are divided into three diffe∣rent Classes, viz. Antecedent, Conco∣mitant and Subsequent. The first usher Me, and serve to perswade that in all probability I ought to come into a place. The second accompany Me, and are an infallible testimony, that I reside there. The third lacquay Me, and make it appear, that I have been formerly there.
My usual Antecedent Accidents are Balls, Dancings, Comedies, Serenades, Banquetings, Feasts and Walks as well by Coursing and Promenades, St Jameses. Park, as in stately Country Apartments, Compliments, pleasant Letters, Sonnets, Madrigals, Songs, and diminutive cares.
My Concomitant are Sighs, Languish∣ment, Transports, amorous Complaints, tender glances and passionate Stanzas
Some add Jealousy, but she is a Monster that must be banished as far as may be, for in the end she may destroy Me as well as beget Me.
The Subsequent are usually desire of Revenge, Ruptures and Revilings. The Maxims that we may draw from hence are these. The Antecedent suppos'd, the others probably follow. The Conco∣mitant or Subsequent being granted, the Antecedent must of necessity pre∣cede.
There is another kind of Accident which is no more than an unexpected rencontre, as when a Lover meets with his Mistress where he did not expect her.
You see that this circumstance alters the nature of the Accident, and makes that
very troublesom which was at first very pleasant: But if the presence of his Mi∣stress joyn'd with that of his Rival is but one sad accident to him; the absence of her whom he adores, is another and as insupportable: this makes him send forth a thousand vain Complaints, and a thousand amorous regrets. 'Tis this that makes him call the Trees and Rocks to testifie the pains that he endures. There is an infinite number of other Accidents, which would be too long for my dis∣course, without which one may appre∣hend what is most advantageous in my Logick; but now that we have examined all manner of conceptions under the title of Universals and Categories, it remains that I explain what use we must make of them in forming our amorous Dispu∣tations.
VVE call that a Proposition which affirms or denies any thing;
as, Iris is fair. Thyrsis wants Wit.
These Propositions or Enunciations are made up of two things; the one whereof is call'd the subject, the other the attribute; as in the first Proposition, Iris is the subject, and Beauty the attribute.
Where ever there is an affirmation or Negation, there is a Proposition; though expressed in a single word, as when a per∣son saith, I love; this word signifies as much as if he should say, I have an affection for some beautiful Lady; And when any one asks another the question, Do you love Climene? If he answers, No. He makes a tacit Enunciation, which is as much as if he had said, I do not love her.
To make a good Argument, the Pro∣positions must have their utmost extent; that is, that there be no subintelligitur, nor any addition.
Propositions are Simple or Compound.
The Simple which are also call'd Ca∣tegorical, are those that simply affirm, or deny without any condition whatso∣ever; as,
Of these some are Universal, and o∣thers Particular; the Universal have an all or none added to them; the Particular affirm or deny, not of all in general, but of one in particular.
The Compound Enunciations, are ei∣ther Conditional or Disjunct; the Con∣ditional (and they are also call'd Hypo∣thetical) have the additional if; as, If Climene be beautiful, she will create love. This Enunciation is compounded of two things, the one is call'd Antecedent, and the other the Consequent, sometimes the one is Affirmative, and the other Nega∣tive; as, If Climene be old, she is no longer beautiful. If she be beautiful, she is not old. Or they are both Negatives; as, If she be neither beautiful nor youth∣ful, she will never be belov'd.
The Disjunct Propositions are compos'd of contrary parts, the one whereof de∣stroys the other; as, Phillis is handsome
or unhandsome; these Enunciations are not true, but when the parties are directly oppos'd one to the other; for if I should say, Climene is Beautiful or Gallant, I may be deceived in both; for it is probable she may be ill-carriag'd, and Deformed; some Propositions are call'd Indefinite, be∣cause we cannot discern whether they are Universal, or particular: some add also the Necessary, Impossible and Contin∣gent, which may or may not be. I omit the Contradictory, when the Subject and Predicate disagree, as also the difference between Modal and Categorical Pro∣positions, and several School-questions, which I have expell'd my Academy: for I hate nothing more than Litigiousness, and make it my chief design to arrive at the Conclusion.
But before we come to explain what Argumentation is, and the way how to find out the fallacy of Sophismes, which is no other than a deceitful Argument, which always draws false Consequences, being supported by a bad Principle, and which strives to make counterfeit love to
be mistaken for that which is real, we must first explain what is meant by De∣finition.
DEfinition is a succinct Speech, which explanes the nature of the Subject in few words; as, My nature is almost in∣comprehensible and 'tis hard to give a Definition of me: however I will afford you some Definitions of my Subsistency.
If therefore they ask you, What Love is? You may answer, That it is a noble Passion produced in the heart of Man by the Sight of Beauty, and it is properly a desire of what is beautiful. But because it may be objected, that all persons in whom I create love, are not beautiful, and that women themselves phancy those that have nothing of comliness in them. I say that I am an ardent desire of uniting and transforming My self into the object that gave me birth. This Definition is more perfect than the former, because it
comprehends as well the Love which pro∣ceeds from Sympathy, as that which is caus'd by Beauty; and generally all sorts of love, for there are none of what nature soever, though occasioned by Deformity, which desire not this Transformation into the person belov'd. But as they that love make inquisition after an impossible thing, so their desires can have no plenary satisfaction. The want of this causeth their pains; but these are never unac∣companied with delight.
The Definition of my Being serves to discover my Properties, and not to take the counterfeit and disguis'd for real love: thence are drawn the most powerful and convincing Arguments, to prove or dis∣prove the question propos'd: to make an advantage of it, I must establish this as a Canon, with whomsoever the Defi∣nition agrees, so doth the Definitum like∣wise, and reciprocally. With whomso∣ever the Definitum, the Definition doth also agree.
DIvision is compris'd under Definition, which is no other than the Anato∣my, or Dissection of the parts of every Compositum. There are several sorts of Divisions, for sometimes they divide the Genus into its Species, sometimes the Whole into its Parts, and sometimes the Subject into its Accidents, or an Accident into divers Subjects.
First, the Genus is divided into its Spe∣cies; as Beauty into the lustre of the Complexion, the symmetry of Propor∣tion, and that of the Stature: it may be again divided into its parts, by examining the Eyes, Mouth, Teeth and the rest. The Subject is divided into several Acci∣dents, when Women are distinguished by Old and Young, Gallant and Ill∣bred; the Men by Poor and Rich, Dull and Spritely: or an Accident is divided into other Accidents, as when Spirits are divided into Serious and Jovial. Some∣times
also Accidents are divided into di∣vers Subjects, as when Youth is divided
A good Division must have but few parts, and if possible but two, and those opposite, as when Women are divided into Fair and Fowl; but that is not al∣ways faisible, for you will sometimes find, that some do participate of hand∣somness and unhandsomness, Youth and Age: farthermore a Division must have nothing superfluous nor deficient: for if one should say, that Beauty consists in the Stature, Hair, Colour and clearness of the Complexion, there would be some∣what wanting in the Division, and some∣what abounding by omitting many things that are necessary, and that we might place clearness of complexion which is compris'd therein, under the comliness of the Complexion. My Accidents may
without difficulty admit of a Division, but my Substance is indivisible, as I have said elsewhere.
A Syllogism is an Argument made up of three Propositions; one whereof concludes the other two. The first is call'd the Major, the second the Minor, and the third the Conclusion or Consequence Example,
Major, Every man loves Beauty.
Minor, The young Thirsys is a man.
Conclusion, Ergo, he loves Beauty.
A Syllogism ought to be compos'd of a Major that is affirmative or negative universally, and of a Minor affirmative or negative particularly, and in the Major, of the foregoing Syllogism, the word Eve∣ry is a term that makes the Proposition universal; the Minor is particular be∣cause Thyrsis is an Individuum, that hath
nothing common with other men, an Example of the Argument Universally, Negative
All Arguments or Syllogismes are re∣duced to three particular kinds, viz. In∣fallible, Topical otherwise call'd Proba∣ble, and Sophistical. The Infallible Syl∣logism is that which is prov'd by Demon∣stration, as when I say,
This Consequence cannot be denied, the two antecedent Propositions being a∣greed upon.
The second sort, which they call Pro∣bable, is where opinions are divided, and they must dispute upon them pro and contra, because they may both be, and not be. Example,
Major, Beauty in younger years we often find.
Minor, Licidas lov's a Mistriss that is young
Conclusion, Then she it is doth captivate his mind.
In this Argument the consequence is not absolutely necessary, because there are many young persons that are not hand∣some, but as there are a greater number of more lovely persons among those that are young than those that are old, this is call'd a Probable Argument, that is ca∣pable of proof.
The third sort which they call Sophi∣stical, is when one of the Propositions is not universally true, so it passeth without examination.
Major, Love without Wealth ne're makes a happy state;
Minor, Old Amarillis hath a good estate;
Conclusion, Then she must courted be, since for∣tunate.
The fallacy of this Argument must be discover'd by the Major, which ought not to pass unexamin'd; for although wealth contributes much to the well-fare of the Lover, that is, not solely capable of doing it; you must therefore distinguish this Major, and say, if any person happens to court this rich old woman,
Whence I conclude, that the Major must be universally true, affirmatively or negatively, if you would have the Conse∣quence so.
Sophismes may also erre in the Minor; as in this.
If ever any one proposeth this Argu∣ment to you, and that you take the defence upon you as a party concern'd, you have no more to do, but stoutly to deny the Minor; for if you were the greatest Cuc∣kold in the World, it were a very hard task to prove it by Demonstration, pro∣vided they did not graft horns upon your head in your own presence; in such a case 'tis beyond dispute.
Every Sophism is defective either in the form or matter; in the form, when the rules are not observed: in the matter when one or both Propositions are false in part, or in the whole: if it erre i•• the form, you must rectify it according 〈◊〉〈◊〉
the rules; if in the matter, you must deny the false Proposition, and if it be but in part, you must distinguish.
The end of Sophistry is to teach how to deceive, and not to be deceiv'd.
THe Enthymeme is an Argument, from which they cut off one Pro∣position, either to abridge or surprize: to abridge; as,
Phillis young, fortunate and fair doth prove, And therefore with her Thircis is in love.Another example,
Love is all charms, and therefore we Must all resolve in love to be.To deceive, when
Amaranth's riches short of Climen's are, Therefore she's of the two more taking far.
In this kind of Argument the most im∣perfect Proposition is artificially supprest, as in this the Major is, which is not uni∣versally true, as I have already observed in the first example of Sophisms.
In this Argument the Conclusion is som∣times first placed to render the discourse more polite.
Young Iris is in love they say, Because she watcheth night and day.
Sometimes I argue from the Major to the Minor;
All living souls do feel my inspir'd flame: Then Iris too one day will do the same.From the Minor to the Major;
Iris is subject to my Laws and me, And so all other persons too shall be.
You may argue from like to like; as,
Happy was Celadon in Astraeas love, Then may another Shepherd happy prove.
There is an infinite number of other Arguments, which I omit, judging them unnecessary for my Subject.
THe Dilemma is an Argument or Syllogism, whose Major is compo∣sed of two Propositions, the one whereof you must make choice of; so that on
which side soever you engage, you will be always surpriz'd; as to prove that a man must never marry, thus they argue;
If you a fair Wife chance to wed, Shee'l prove a pain unto your head: And if you marry one that's fowl, Shee'l be a torment to your soul.
When a person hath perwaded a Lady by strong arguments that he loves, then there is a strong inclination in the party to make himself belov'd; but these kind of Declarations are seldom made by Syllogisms in Mood and Figure, nor do
they so speedily perswade as a confused and disjoynted discourse; upon such oc∣casions as these the Lover must lay aside all regular Laws of Logick, and when he is unwilling to amuse himself in ratioci∣nation, he must endeavour to bring them to a belief, that he hath lost his reason. Then must his Eyes be more eloquent than his Tongue, in expressing the com∣motions and regret of his mind; and his sighs be the Interpreters of his Desire and Pain. Yet the Lover must not be always sighing, for though Ladies understand that kind of Language sufficiently, they almost all pretend ignorance of it. To the end therefore that you may be beyond all doubts, clear them all; and if the Lady will not understand the Language of your Eyes and Sighs, speak and tell her freely what those Sighs and those Tears mean.