[][]

ESSAYS MORAL AND PHILOSOPHICAL, ON SEVERAL SUBJECTS: VIZ.

  • A VIEW of the HUMAN FACULTIES.
  • A ſhort ACCOUNT of the WORLD.
  • Two DISCOURSES on DECENCY.
  • An ESSAY on SELF-LOVE.

LONDON; Printed for J. OSBORN and T. LONGMAN, at the Ship, in Paternoſter-Row. M.DCC.XXXIV.

ADVERTISEMENT From the Publiſher.

[iii]

THO' the following Papers are of different Forms, and upon different Subjects; yet there appeared no Reaſon, why they might not be all publiſhed together. I take the liberty of mentioning this and a few things more to the Reader, becauſe I had a greater Latitude given me by the Perſon whoſe hands the Papers came from; but I have exerted my Powers no further than in not letting the Eſſay on Self-Love come out ſingly, which was his Inclination: but I hope [iv] I ſhall have the publick Approbation for what I have done.

I had a long Letter, chiefly relating to the Eſſay, with ſeveral Hints in it, which I thought the Publick ought not to be depriv'd of; and ſo (with the Author's allowance) I have thrown ſome of them into the Appendix, whereof they make the laſt Number. A few of his Words in that Letter ſeem to call for a place here.

‘"I deſign'd to have ſent you theſe Papers ſeveral Years ago. . . . . . I induſtriouſly ſhunn'd taking notice of ſome Performances that appear'd at different times after this ſmall Work was begun and ended, having ſeen them as much deſpis'd by the moſt judicious ſort of Readers as I thought they deſerv'd. . . . . . All I have in view by the Eſſay, is, that it may ſerve for an Introduction to Books of a deeper [v] Reach. . . . . But I took all the care I could, that it might have no Air of a Religious Diſſertation. It was indeed next to impoſſible to avoid ſaying ſomewhat on the Love of God, that the contrary Doctrine might appear the more in its own Colours. . . . . ."’

‘"I thought it was beſt to add the D. of Rochefoucault's Deſcription intirely, as being a Run of natural Eloquence, without Preciſion, as the French call it; which makes it rather the more agreeable. Sometimes he puts Self-Love for Covetouſneſs, ſometimes for Pride, ſometimes for Vanity, ſometimes for Paſſion, ſometimes for Obſtinacy, ſometimes for mere Whim, and ſometimes for all theſe together, as appears throughout his Reflections; but ſtill he will be well enough underſtood: for by Self-Love he either means corrupt Nature in general, or ſome of its [vi] particular Qualities. But with Submiſſion. . . . . ."’ See the Continuation of this in the laſt Number of the Additions.

The Author deſign'd the reſt of thoſe Additions as an Explanation of ſome Terms, and a Collection of ſome Citations to ſupport the Eſſay, tho' it ſtands pretty much independent of either. The Sections were alſo deſign'd to have been of a more equal length, and the whole to have been ſhorter; but he yielded to an Advice of dropping in ſome practical Reflections, becauſe (as he own'd himſelf) abſtract Reaſonings ſeldom make a deep Impreſſion. Nor was it without Reluctancy, that he engag'd at all in the Performance, having often ſaid, ‘"The Nature of Mankind gives little ground to expect an Alteration in Opinions once receiv'd; tho' no Speculation ſeems ſo likely for all Parties to agree in, as that of Diſintereſtedneſs, nor any Speculation [vii] that could produce ſuch happy Effects, if it was reduc'd to Practice."’

As to the Dialogues, he expreſs'd himſelf as if he had been but a Witneſs to the Converſation, and had wrote only from his Memory; and therefore ſaid, ‘"It was to be fear'd it wou'd be a kind of Murder, and at beſt, to preſent the World with a Skeleton."’ He adds, ‘"It will eaſily be ſuppoſed, the two Friends talk'd of many things I have taken no notice of, and that their Converſation was only reduc'd by me under certain Heads, and put in a different Order from what they obſerv'd in talking together; for it would not have been ſo natural to have begun with the Diſtinction of Body, Soul and Spirit. . . . . Perhaps the thing, ſuch as it is, may be of uſe to thoſe who are not much acquainted with themſelves and the World."’

[viii] The two Diſcourſes on DECENCY he call'd neglected Trifles, and deſired I might do with them what I pleas'd.

CONTENTS.

[ix]

DIALOGUES on ſeveral Subjects betwixt two Intimate Friends.

Part I. A View of the HUMAN FACULTIES.

  • I. OF Men in general. pag. 1
  • II. The Body. 9
  • III. The Soul. 16
  • IV. Senſation. 23
  • V. Imagination. 33
  • VI. The Paſſions. 44
  • VII. Complexion, Diſpoſition, Humour. 54
  • VIII. Liberty. 58
  • IX. Reaſon. 69
  • X. The Memory. 85
  • XI. Speech. 89
  • XII. A Review of the foregoing Articles. 93

Part. II. A ſhort Account of the WORLD.

[x]
  • I. The World taken in different Senſes. 106
  • II. The World divided into two Cities. 109
  • III. The mixt State of Things. 120
  • IV. Remains of Virtue. 132
  • V. Helps to Religion. 144
  • VI. The Equality of Men by Nature. 154
  • VII. Accidental Characters. 158
  • VIII. Converſation. 175
  • IX. Books. 191

Two Diſcourſes on DECENCY.

  • Diſc. I. Decency is the leaſt of all Laws, and the moſt obſerved. 205
  • Diſc. II. 224

An Eſſay on SELF-LOVE.

  • Introduction. 245
  • Sect. I. Self-Love commonly taken in a bad Senſe: The Duke of Rochefoucault's Account of it. 248
  • Sect. II. The Change made on Self-Love by the Fall. 252
  • [xi]Sect. III. What may be called lawful in Self-Love, from ſome of its proper Acceptations. 255
  • Sect. IV. The Deſires of Man conſidered more particularly. 257
  • Sect. V. The two Principles of Action, or the two Sources of Virtue and Vice. 259
  • Sect. VI. The Corruption of Self-Love farther conſidered with reſpect to all Virtues, and Friendſhip in particular. 262
  • Sect. VII. Natural Love conſidered under different Denominations. 267
  • Sect. VIII. Of other Engagements of the Affection. 274
  • Sect. IX. The Meaning of Diſintereſtedneſs. 276
  • Sect. X. Some Acceptations of Conſcience. 282
  • Sect. XI. The Reality of Virtue. 290
  • Sect. XII. Religion. 295
  • Sect. XIII. The Unfitneſs of Self, as an Object of Love. 303
  • Sect. XIV. The Love of the Creatures. 307
  • Sect. XV. The Love of God. 314

ADDITIONS.

  • I. Self-Love, Pleaſure, Happineſs, Intereſt. 336
  • II. Deſcription of Self-Love. 341
  • III. Vice, Sin, Evil. 345
  • IV. From H. More's Letters. 347
  • [xii]V. Religion, Charity. 352
  • VI. Virtue, Juſtice, Diſintereſtedneſs. 357
  • VII. From Mr. Paſcal, Sect. 26. 361
  • VIII. Civitates, &c. 363
  • IX. Arrian, Lib. 2. Cap. 22. 364
  • X. Truth. 367
  • XI. Why the Words, Heb. xii. are ſuppos'd to mean inſtead of the Joy ſet before him, &c. rather than becauſe of the Joy, &c. 369
  • XII. Amor, &c. 374
  • XIII. 375

[]DIALOGUES ON SEVERAL SUBJECTS, BETWIXT TWO INTIMATE FRIENDS.

PART I. A VIEW OF THE HUMAN FACULTIES.

[]

I. Of MAN in general.

Lucinus and Aemilius.
L.

THERE are not (my dear Aemilius) two more common words, nor a more common diſtinction, than of Body and Soul. The Properties and Operations of theſe two are entirely different*: and [4] nothing is more ſhameful and unfortunate than to confound them together.

Ae.

MY dear Lucinus, you are intirely in the right: and we are farther ſaid to be made up of Body, Soul, and Spirit; a Diſtinction not only uſed by St. Paul, but which we have alſo from * good Heathen Philoſophers.

SENSATION is aſſign'd to the Body, tho' 'tis the Soul that properly feels thro' the bodily Organs; the Paſſions or Affections are appropriated to the Soul; and Truths, or Principles, are of the Province of the Mind or the Underſtanding; according to that Diſtribution of Antoninus.

L.

BUT to go a degree lower than Senſation (for Life may be conceived without any Operation of the Senſes, as when they are ſhut up in a deep Sleep) ſimple Life is a thing as different from Body, or Matter, as any thing we can imagine. And therefore Life is ſometimes called by the Name of Spirit, and conſidered both as a Principle or Spring by which Matter (whoſe Property is to reſt) is moved, and the Body of [5] Animals kept (for a while) from Diſſolution and Corruption:‘—Dum Spiritus hos regit Artus.’

OF this ſort of Life or Spirit, every living Creature has a ſhare, a Worm as well as a Man; the particular Frailty of whoſe Life we may be eaſily convinc'd of, tho' the Apoſtle had not told us it is but a Vapour. And yet we have no other Barrier againſt that amazing State call'd Eternity! If the Thought of Death or ſimple Extinction raiſes Horror; what would the Proſpect of endleſs Exiſtence raiſe, without ſome latent Hope, or Suppoſition of Happineſs! A Man makes this Suppoſition ſecretly when he thinks at all of that State, otherwiſe Nature could not bear the Proſpect: and we muſt confeſs our Quiet, or rather Indolence, as to an Article of ſuch importance, is chiefly owing to our Stupidity.

Ae.

BUT notwithſtanding all the Stupidity and Weight that loads us, there is ſtill in our Nature ſome Expectation of Immortality, ſome Hopes of a future Life, and a more perfect Exiſtence after this Scene is over. To which, if we add our Deſire of Dominion and Eſteem, even in this World, we may conclude there is really ſomething of worth in us; and our Pride may be a ſort of Argument for our Dignity. [6] And this Elevation of Mind is not infus'd into us by Politicians, Divines, Officers of the Army, or any Set of Men whatſoever, but may be ſaid to be a part of our Conſtitution.

DIOTREPHES loved Pre-eminence. Caeſar was not taught to deſire Dominion: every Man loves it (leſs or more) tho' not equally qualified to gain it, nor equally ſucceſsful. Beſides, the Rewards promiſed by Politicians and Commanders rather reſpect the Conveniencies and Glory of this Life than the future. And whether the Reward be temporal or eternal, the encouraging or the amuſing People with the Hopes of it, ſuppoſes a Deſire in them before-hand of ſuch things; otherwiſe the deſigning Men could have no Fund to work upon, and might as well talk to Horſes.

I confeſs there are other Arguments beſides the Pride of Man, which may help to ſhew his Dignity. He grows weary of every thing here (Friendſhip only excepted) as if nothing were worthy of his Attention. But then, as nothing is able to ſatisfy him, any thing is ſufficient to amuſe him. So that we muſt conſider Man in different Lights, before we can underſtand his Condition; and after all we can think about it, our Knowledge muſt remain imperfect.

L.
[7]

IT is by viewing Man in thoſe oppoſite Lights, that he is ſometimes called the Glory of the Creation, and ſometimes its Diſgrace; and both Epithets are true. There is ſtill in Human Nature ſomething that's bright and lovely, good and kind; ſome Remains of Excellency, ſome Ruins of Grandeur, ſome Sparks in the midſt of Aſhes and Rubbiſh.

THE Scripture informs us, that Man was made after the Image of God; and that we are his Offspring. 'Tis remarkable that St. Paul cites this Paſſage from a Heathen Poet: and there was great addreſs in it, ſince he was reaſoning with the polite Men of Athens. But if our Pride ſhould be apt to riſe from the Account the Scripture gives us of our Origin, we ſhall find in the ſame Books very different Characters to keep us low. We are call'd but Duſt, the Worms are our neareſt Kindred: 'tis told us, we are but Vanity in our beſt Eſtate, and that the Imaginations of our Heart are continually fooliſh and wicked: with much more to that purpoſe.

THE Philoſophers were much divided in their Opinions concerning Man. Some exalted him too high, others ſunk him too low; without conſidering the ſtrange Mixture of his Compoſition, which indeed ſeems [8] to make him a-kin to the higheſt and loweſt Beings, the lovelieſt and the hatefulleſt Things.

NOR is it to be forgot, that tho' Mankind in general are made up of Contrarieties, yet, as my Lord Rocheſter ſays, Man differs more from Man, than Man from Beaſt.

Ae.

NOT only ſo, but the ſame Man differs as much from himſelf at different times.

L.

'TIS a ſtrange Compoſition, Human Nature! But thoſe who talk and write againſt the Dignity of Man, and the Immortality of the Soul; who affirm there is no Virtue, no Friendſhip, no Honour; can only argue from what they feel in themſelves, and what they obſerve in the World. The firſt Point might be readily yielded to them: tho' we are not abſolutely ſure but they may have a greater belief of Virtue, and more Conſcience than they own; as there are others who may have leſs of either than they pretend to. And as to the Obſervation of the Decay of Virtue in the World, there is nothing oftner mention'd in the Scripture than that. In ſhort, whatever the Opinions of particular Perſons may be, human Nature will ſtill remain in its Rank: and the unhappy Choices of the Multitude [9] will ſerve to confirm the ſacred Text, Man that is in honour, and underſtandeth not, is like the Beaſts that periſh.

II. The BODY.

L.

WHAT do you think of this Body of ours?

Ae.

IT is by this wonderful piece of Mechaniſm, that we hold Correſpondence with the viſible World about us.

L.

THE Body, as to its outward Figure, is certainly beautiful. Few are ſo fantaſtical, as to find fault with the human Shape. Nor are the Parts within leſs wonderful in their Contrivance and Uſe. Many Engines are conſtantly playing. With what incredible force does the Heart ſend out the Blood! And how much work is done within us (as Antoninus ſaid) and we feel nothing of it! When we feel leaſt of it, we are in the beſt health.

ANATOMISTS tell us, there is hardly an Inſtrument in Mechanicks or Hydroſtaticks but we meet with in the human Body; and indeed in the Body of inferiour Animals: ſcarce any part of a Houſe or a Ship, hardly a common Utenſil, but we find in [10] this ſurprizing Fabrick. They talk of Levers, Wedges, Pullies, Ropes, Sieves, Strainers, Beams, Tubes, Vaſes, Receptacles, and more things than I have Engliſh for. You may ſee * Boerhaave.

Ae.

SOME of thoſe laborious, penetrating, honeſt Inquirers into Nature, have really made great diſcoveries; and there remains ſtill much to be diſcovered. Any body may know thus far, that this outward Vehicle of ours is made up of an infinite number of Parts, Organs, or Inſtruments curiouſly adjuſted, and acting in a mutual Subſerviency each Part to another, as well as for the Safety and Pleaſure of the whole Syſtem.

L.

FLESH, and Blood, and Skin, and Bones, are familiar Words, and we think very little about the Compoſition and Texture of the things. But we are ſurprized when we hear that Fleſh itſelf is but a Collection of ſmall Fibres; that every Muſcle may be divided into leſſer ones, and theſe again into leſſer, till they become too ſmall for Diſcovery; ſurpaſſing even the force of Imagination.

[11] THE Action of the Muſcles, and the Motions perform'd by their means, is a new Matter of wonder. As ſome of theſe Motions are voluntary, there are others without any deſign of ours. The voluntary Motions are often accompanied with Satisfaction, as the Mind directs them either to real Uſe or Vanity: and we are beholden to the Muſcles for Dancing, as well as Walking: to theſe the Politician owes his Shrugs, and the nice Lady her Geſtures.

Ae.

BUT at the ſame time, that we admire the Texture of the Fleſh, we ſee evident Marks of Frailty ſtampt upon it, or ſomething worſe. The mixture of Blood and other Fluids makes the Conſiſtency the more difficult to be preſerved: and upon the Breach of ſo many Canals and Veſſels, which a very ordinary Wound may occaſion, we ſee a conſiderable Diſorder, and have even ſome horror at the ſight. A putrifying Sore is ſtill more diſagreeable.

L.

IT were prudence in us however, to view our Conſtitution ſometimes on its weak ſides, that we may not forget the Materials we are made of, or imagine a Statue of Plaiſter to be a Statue of Braſs. The Wiſdom of the Maker is ſtill ſeen in the admirable Contrivance of the Machine, tho' it were to laſt but a day; and we have good [12] reaſon to ſubſcribe to that Text, We are fearfully and wonderfully made.

Ae.

WONDERFULLY indeed! but then the Tenderneſs of our Frame muſt not ſo frighten us, as if it were every moment to fall to pieces; and conſequently under the notion of ſhunning Danger, make us ſhun the Duties of Society. The Body is ſtrongly fenced, and can bear conſiderable Shocks after all. We are only to keep our Brittleneſs in view, as a guard to Sobriety and Temperance. For there is certainly a good deal of Truth in that common Proverb, Surfeiting deſtroys more People than the Sword.

How Intemperance (a general Term for all Exceſs) comes to be ſuch a Ruin to the poor Fabrick, is no hard matter to account for. The Bones, 'tis true, have a Firmneſs: but then, how are they join'd together! and how many ſmall Veſſels are employ'd in conveying Nouriſhment even to them! The whole Body may be called but a Bundle of Pipes and Veſſels wrapt up in Skin. Some of the Fluids run in larger Channels, and with greater briskneſs, whilſt others naturally are but ſlowly filtrated. What a Preſſure muſt a Surcharge of Meat and Drink occaſion! How muſt the various Canals be affected! Here a Ferment, there [13] Stagnation. The Ideas would be a little nauſeous, if purſued farther.

L.

BUT ſince 'tis much more agreeable to conſider things in their good Order, than in their Corruption, it may be very entertaining to look into ſome Books of Anatomy; wherein ſuch Diſcoveries are given, as cannot fail to raiſe Admiration and Delight. And there is this moral Inference to be made, that as all the Parts of the Body (united, as St. Paul ſays, by Joints and Bands) contribute to the good of the whole in a mechanical way: ſo all Men ought to ſerve one another freely and chearfully, as Members of one Body or Society: and the good Emperor has an uſeful Criticiſm upon the difference between the words Member and Part, the former implying a more vital Union than the latter; for inſtance, a Branch of a Tree, or any inanimate thing, is ſeparated from the Body without Pain, which is far otherwiſe in the loſs of an Arm, or in the leaſt hurt of any animated part of the Body. This Example might be much farther purſued with great pleaſure: all the Members being found to act in Concert and Harmony. No Schiſm, no Appropriation, no Contempt, no Oppreſſion.

Ae.

FEW Criticiſms are of ſo much uſe. But notwithſtanding all the agreeable things that are to be obſerv'd in the Contrivance of [14] the Body, its Charms lie principally in the Outſide. The figure of the inward Parts, and the endleſs Branchings of the Veins, are look'd at with more Complacency in Waxwork and Copper-plate than in their Reality; which muſt give the Diſſecters themſelves ſome Uneaſineſs, not to be entirely overcome by the longeſt Practice. But the Shape and Air ſtrike a Reverence, the Skin and Features a Delight: the Features more than the Skin, and the Air more than the Features: ſo that the Air gives Delight and Reverence both. We ſhall leave more Obſervations to Lovers. In the mean time, we muſt do the Soul the Juſtice to confeſs that 'tis ſhe that's properly the Miſtreſs. No Man can be in love with the fineſt Statue. Nor would Life, added to Beauty, be the Attraction, if ſome Qualities of the Mind were not ſuppos'd. This muſt hold, without diſpute, in rational Love: and as to the ſimple Impreſſions on the Eye (which irrational Animals may ſhare in, for any thing we know to the contrary) whatever is agreeably felt, if it is not excited by the Soul, is at leaſt felt by the Soul; and to it we muſt have recourſe, as the Seat of Life itſelf, as well as of Senſation and Reflexion.

I ſay we muſt have recourſe to ſome other thing than the Body, for all our Perceptions and Faculties, of what kind ſoever. The Body is but a Vehicle enliven'd. We cut and [15] mangle a dead Body without much Compaſſion, and without any Injury, as if it were a Log of Wood.

L.

WHAT it is that ties two things together ſo different in their Natures, Men have no notion of: We ſee in fact, and ſometimes to our great affliction, a deplorable Alteration in the Body, or the viſible Part, from whence we conclude a Separation of the Inviſible; or that the Soul or Spirit has withdrawn we know not whither.

Ae.

THE Diſſolution of the Body ſhews a little of its Compoſition. As it returns to the Duſt, ſo it is of the Duſt. But into this ſtrange Compoſition the four Elements may be ſaid to enter, and other things often mention'd by Philoſophers and common Men, Oil, Sulphur, &c. It muſt be own'd too, that theſe Ingredients are more happily mixed in ſome Perſons than others, as Shakeſpear obſerves of Brutus; from whence may proceed the difference of Conſtitutions, and even of Tempers. And this ſhould engage People to pity one another, or to be very civil at leaſt. If a Man thinks his Neighbour has too much Fire, he ſhould conſider whether he himſelf may not have too much Phlegm; and on the contrary.

L.

IF ſome People heard us, they would be apt to think there is too much ſaid concerning [16] the Body; others, that there is too little: and I am of the latter opinion; conſidering that 'tis the Body which takes up the moſt of our Care: in ſo much, that Antoninus calls Death a Releaſe from the Drudgery about a Carcaſs.

III. The SOUL.

Ae.

YOU ask'd me what I thought of the Body. Pray what do you think of the Soul?

L.

MANKIND being ſo much in the dark, as to the Nature of all things, can only conſider them in ſome of their Properties and Operations.

Ae

IT ſeems the loweſt Operation we can conceive of the Soul, is to give Life and Motion to an organiz'd Body, which the moſt curious Organs cannot give; ſince they are but Matter reduced into Shape and Proportion. 'Tis agreeable to ſee a Fly making its Motions in the Air, or cleaning its little Legs, by ſome Principle foreign to its light Body. But a ſmall Touch puts an end to the Activity.

L.

IT is an odd ſort of Enquiry, whether Matter might not have Thought ſuperadded [17] to it? 'Tis eaſy, and no leſs true, to ſay that infinite Power can do every thing it pleaſes. But then, Men ſhould take care, under the appearance of Modeſty (or however real it may be) not to make impertinent Suppoſitions. If Life were ſuperadded, Matter would be enliven'd; and if Thought were ſuperadded, Matter would be thinking: whereas the ſettled Idea of Matter is ſomething that's inanimate, unactive, and incapable of thinking.

IF we were to ſearch for mere Life, or if any Perſon could tell us where it is to be found, I believe the Anſwer would be, not in the ſmalleſt Fibres; for they are but Threads: neither in the thinneſt Membranes, for they are but Threads woven together. If Gen. 9. it is in the Blood, as the Scripture ſeems to intimate, it ſtill eſcapes our Diſcovery; and the Blood itſelf muſt be reckon'd but a Vehicle for the Life.

Ae

ANOTHER Text in the ſame Book ſays Gen. 2. God breathed into Man the Breath of Life, and he became a living Soul. We muſt content ourſelves with an Hiſtorical Account of our own Being, inſtead of a Philoſophical: and if we ſhould want to know how Life has been inſuſed into the meaneſt Animals, we muſt only conclude that the Fountain of Life has communicated to them their Portion of it ſome way or other; and [18] without grudging them their manner of Exiſtence (many of them having the advantage of us in ſome Faculties) we ought to ſtudy to make the beſt and the thankfulleſt uſe of our own.

THAT which is called the Vegetable Life, conſiſts chiefly in a Circulation of Fluids, in order to the Support and Growth of the Body they belong to, without any power of Senſation. Vegetation is but Growing: and even Stones and Metals (ſome think) have a Growth of their own.

L.

BAGLIVI is of that opinion*.

Ae.

PLANTS are Bodies organized to admiration. They draw Nouriſhment from the Earth by their Roots: they ſeem to be nouriſhed alſo by the Air, and may be killed by the Air; they have Perſpiration, but no Reſpiration, which ſeems to be peculiar to the Animal Life, and is the loweſt of its Operations.

LIVING Creatures can move from one place to another, and have their Roots within themſelves for their Nouriſhment. Which [19] Roots (ſays Mr. Boerhaave) are the abſorbent Veins in the Mouth, Stomach, and Inteſtines.

L.

Some Animals, fix'd in their Shells to Rocks, are an Exception from that Power of local Motion: tho' they have ſtill ſome inward Spring of their own, and may be ſaid to move in their own Houſes.

Ae.

LIFE certainly, in the loweſt view we can have of it, implies ſomething more than Matter, or Matter and Motion together, and may be called immaterial, or a thing that cannot fall under the cognizance of any of the five Senſes. 'Tis finer and quicker than Flame: it cannot be extracted by the beſt Chymiſts, nor kept in Glaſſes. Mr. Hobbes triumph'd over the Expreſſion immaterial Subſtance, as an inſtance of inſignificant Speech: and he would have had reaſon on his ſide, if he had firſt prov'd that there was no Subſtance, nor any thing in the Univerſe, but what we can ſee and touch, &c.

L.

SNEERING is no Proof.

Ae.

BUT now, tho' all Life may be call'd immaterial, it cannot upon that account be call'd immortal or unextinguiſhable. Immortality is a Term appropriated to the Soul. The Beaſts have a Life as well as [20] Men, and are unwilling to part with it; yet the Scripture ſpeaks as if it ended with the Deſtruction of their Body, and they are ſaid to periſh. 'Tis true, Solomon ſpeaks of the Spirit of Man, and the Spirit of the Beaſt, that the one goes upward, and the other downward; and I think ſome Philoſophers talk of different Principles, to which higher and lower Spirits are united, after quitting their reſpective Bodies. But when Revelation ſtops ſhort, Conjectures are often very unſatisfying, and often very improper.

L.

IT ſtill bears a good moral meaning, that the Spirit of Man tends to ſomewhat of a ſuperior kind than the Beaſts are capable of; Nature having made them groveling, as Saluſt expreſſes it, Prona atque Ventri Obedientia.

THIS we know for certain, that the Life of Man and Beaſt is ſubject to Ruin, and under great Neceſſities, while it ſubſiſts; eſpecially the Life of Man, who not only wants Food, but Raiment. Sleep is a want common to all Animals on this Earth; as if ſome Operations of Life needed to be ſuſpended, to keep it from wearing out: for other Operations go on; we breathe, the Blood circulates, Digeſtion advances, &c. Mean time 'tis remarkable, that the preſent Wants of Mankind (and Sleep in particular) contribute very much to any Peace and Quiet [21] they enjoy: Soldiers muſt reſt on their Marches, and the plodding Stateſman drops aſleep in the midſt of a Project that would have embroil'd Europe.

Ae.

BUT of our Neceſſities ſome are real, others only imaginary: both of which ſubject us to great Dependence. By the real Neceſſities, all Men depend upon one another, and the higheſt Ranks depend moſt upon the loweſt, who work both for their own Subſiſtence, and for theirs that are idle. By the imaginary Neceſſities, ſome put themſelves under the Dependence of Men in power, and ſometimes do very dirty work for the Wages they receive. But in all our Wants, whether imaginary or real, the Body wants nothing; for it feels nothing. 'Tis properly the bodily Life that wants Meat and Cloathing, and 'tis Luxury and Pride that want Delicacies and Ornaments.

HOW Life comes to fail, notwithſtanding all the Repairs it is conſtantly getting, and all our anxiety about it, is only to be reſolv'd into the Will and Appointment of its Author. 'Tis juſt ſuch another Myſtery, that the bodily Frame wears out, and becomes no longer a fit Habitation for the Soul.

CERTAINLY it might have laſted longer: and we hear of Lives in the beginning of the world, near a thouſand years old. That [22] ſome of the ſofter parts harden too much with time, and the Strainers cannot perform their functions, is what Experience ſhews: but a new Queſtion may ariſe, why that hardning of the ſofter parts? Beſides, we often ſee the Machine deſtroy'd before it is half worn, even in Infancy; and this without any violent Accidents. Man is the pooreſt Creature in the world, in many inſtances: we may judge how it becomes him to be proud. Pride was not made for Man.

L.

POOR ignorant Man! The difficulty is as great to know how Life is kindled, as how it goes out. That it enters into the Body, is but a way of ſpeaking: perhaps the Body and it are form'd together. I have ſometimes thought Men have been too prying with their Glaſſes, and their Enquiries. Whatever be of that, they diſcover nothing to leſſen their difficulties. Nature ſtill keeps her Myſteries to herſelf.

WE ſee indeed, in a groſs manner, how we are thrown into this World with the diſtreſs of our Mothers, and pain to ourſelves, tho' we have no remembrance of it. Our ſtay muſt be ſhort, from the nature of our bodily Frame. The Cords are loos'd, and the Wheels broken. Death comes, and puts an end to our Labours, our Deſigns and our Impertinencies.

[23] THIS Life is a ſtate of tryal, and has many Epithets. 'Tis call'd a Voyage, a Paſſage, an Inn, a Pilgrimage; ſometimes a Play, and a Farce, but it always concludes in a Tragedy. A little earth is caſt upon the Head (ſays Mr. Paſcal) & en voila pour jamais.

IV. SENSATION.

Ae.

BUT how little have we ſeen of the Soul of Man! that Principle of Reaſon, that immortal Spirit capable of inexpreſſible Joy and Sorrow even here, and of both theſe hereafter in a degree infinitely higher, when this Clog of a Body is thrown off!

L.

IF you pleaſe, we will talk a little more of our inferiour State and Condition. As Life is a conſiderable Remove from Matter and Motion, Senſation carries us a ſtage beyond Life, and as it were into another Region; but ſtill a very low one. However, if Men cannot account for ſimple Life, no wonder they cannot account for Senſe and Feeling. 'Tis much if Mr. Hobbes was in earneſt in what he ſays of the Cauſe of Senſe. You may ſee how far it is ſatisfying*.

Ae.
[24]

SOMETIMES one would hardly know whether to laugh or be angry at Hobbes. But tho' the Cauſe of Senſation is hid from us, the Advantages of it are very obvious. The Senſes are the Canals of Pleaſure: they may be ſaid to bring Intelligence to the Soul, and to the whole Man Safety and Delight. They are noble Preſents from our Creator, and we ſee what a loſs it is to be deprived of any one of them. If they are ſometimes the Conveyances of Pain, this is owing to ſome Accidents they are not anſwerable for; and very often the Pain is of our own procuring.

IF the Organs are indiſpoſed, the Senſes muſt be ſo likewiſe: and if they are loſt the Senſes are loſt. 'Tis the Body that furniſhes theſe Organs, which probably has made the Emperor aſſign the Senſes to the Body.

THE bodily Senſes are alſo called the external Senſes, as they ſerve us in the commerce with things in this viſible World. They are commonly reckon'd five: and this number has obtain'd a ſort of Preſcription. In our Engliſh Apocrypha they are call'd the * five Operations: and tho' Feeling is [25] a word that may be applied to them all, yet in common diſcourſe it is appropriated to one of theſe five Powers in particular: ſometimes we ſay, a Sight ſtrikes the Eye, a Sound the Ear. But 'tis the Hand that's uſually ſaid to touch. And hence Touching, and the other four Senſes, are conſider'd as active; becauſe they can be applied to particular Objects, as the Mind directs; by whoſe orders they alſo ſuſpend their Operations. A Man may ſhut his Eyes when he thinks fit. But upon the matter, all the Senſes are rather paſſive than active, which I believe you will readily grant.

BUT tho' the number of thoſe Operations has been limited to five, the number of Senſations or Perceptions may be call'd infinite, both as to the Objects and the Degrees. By the Degrees I mean the higher and lower Senſations of Pleaſure and Pain, two words that include every thing that delights us or afflicts us; tho' in this place 'tis only what concerns the Body that's under conſideration.

Ae.

OF thoſe five Operations (you know) the Sight and Hearing are reckon'd the nobleſt; probably becauſe they are of a [26] greater reach, and ſerve more eminently for conveying Knowledge to the Mind. The Eye can take in half the Firmament, the Ear can hear at a great diſtance, and both can receive inſtruction by words: whereas the other three Senſes (eſpecially the Touch and Taſte) can only act by an immediate Application to the Object.

L.

THERE is a remarkable difference between the two laſt named Senſes in one reſpect, that the Taſte is for one's ſelf alone, and ſo may be call'd but a poor ſolitary Pleaſure: whereas the Touch is a means of union with another Perſon, and in ſo far may be call'd a ſocial Pleaſure; and it ſerves often as a Conveyance of Friendſhip.

Ae.

YOU deſign to be merry.

L.

NEITHER merry nor grave. You muſt have had the Women in your head yourſelf, and I don't deny that they were in mine: but ſetting them aſide, I'll appeal to any Man, if he would not prefer the Kiſs of a Friend's Cheek to the beſt Wine upon Earth.

Ae.

HE muſt be a ſorry Friend that would not.

L.

THE greateſt Obſervers have only diſcover'd the Organs or Inſtruments belonging to each Senſe; and 'tis probable they [27] have not diſcover'd them all neither. Thus Touching and Taſting are but faintly explain'd by the diſcovery of certain *Nipples under the Skin (differing in their figures) as the proper Inſtruments of theſe two Senſes; tho' the ſmall Inſtruments are indeed deſcrib'd with great labour and exactneſs. And as we know but ſome of the Inſtruments, ſo we know but ſome of the Occaſions or Conditions (not the Cauſes) requiſite to affect us ſo many ways as we find we are affected. So that the greateſt Philoſophers have recourſe only to the Appointment of the Adorable Creator. The cauſe of ſimple Life is not to be reach'd; much leſs the cauſe of Senſation: and the cauſe of Pleaſure or Pain leſs ſtill.

Ae.

FEELING or Senſibility (it ſeems) is diffuſed thro' all the Body, without and within, and ſo is conſider'd as the Foundation [28] of what is moſt uſually and ſtrictly call'd Pleaſure and Pain. The reſt of the Senſes convey what is agreeable (the Eye Sights, and the Ear Sounds, for inſtance) but they are not ſaid to create that ſevere racking preſſure which goes under the name of Pain or Torture, nor that gentle agreeable Impreſſion call'd Pleaſure. A new wonder ariſes,

How the ſame Nerves are faſhion'd to ſuſtain
The greateſt Pleaſure, and the greateſt Pain!
L.

'TIS remarkable how much the preſent Frame of the Body is liable to Pain, and often ſeiz'd with it to extremity.

Ae.

'TIS remarkable too, that the Extremes of Pleaſure are much fewer than thoſe of Pain, from which no Fibre of the Body can promiſe to be exempt; and as to the Point of duration, Pleaſure has but little to boaſt of. Intenſe Pain may continue long, intenſe Pleaſure cannot.

L.

MANKIND are in ſome deluſion as to that point. Mr. Boerhaave and others are very good, for ſhewing the Frame and Texture of the Organs belonging to each Senſe. Mean time the Touch and Taſte are generally moſt gratified, and the Taſte yet more than the former. And to theſe two Senſes may be referr'd all that's call'd Luxury: the [29] Smell is but gratified in a manner for diverſion. Elegance is properly the purſuit of the Eye. Sometimes, 'tis true, all Extravagance is call'd Luxury: as the Luxury of Building, Gardening, Apparel, &c.

TO enter into all the bad Conſequences of indulging the Senſes, were an endleſs Affair. There are few Perſons but know too much of it from their own Experience; with relation to their Eſtate, their Character, and the Body itſelf. And if they want Authorities they may ſee what Horace ſays of the Effects of gratifying a ſweet Tooth, as Dr. Cheyne calls it: Dulcia ſe in bilem vertunt.

BUT the Inconvenience of Senſuality is one thing, and the Injuſtice of it another. Mere ſelfiſh Gratification, without regard to Society and Friendſhip (ſuppoſing the Heart not to be engaged in the Pleaſure) is a thing below Humanity, but 'tis infinitely more agreeable to think of what Nature has done for our ſupport and delight, than what we do our ſelves to our uneaſineſs, our deſtruction, and our diſhonour. We have the Benefits and Pleaſures of all the Senſes to think of, and we can never think of them enough. Mr. Boerhaave is in * Raptures, [30] ſpeaking of the very Organs: How much more ſatisfaction muſt it give to reflect on the Uſes, the Delights, and the Certainty of the Operations themſelves? To ſuppoſe them fallacious, were to give our ſelves the lye, as well as to unhinge all Society, Law and Commerce. A Man diſtinguiſhes his Friend well from a Stranger, he knows his very foot before entring the Room. Witneſſes are admitted upon their Knowledge of Facts: and a Judge, from his Conviction of the Proof, acquits the Innocent or condemns the Guilty: To ſay nothing of more familiar Diſtinctions, known to young and old.

Ae.

SOMETIMES, you know, we muſt have recourſe to one Senſe for confirming another, or rectifying its miſtakes. But this can never overthrow the certainty of the Senſes in general. If a Stick appears crooked in the Water, there needs no more but to take it out, to be convinc'd that it is ſtreight. 'Tis the Philoſophers that perplex people, or rather confound themſelves, with their Subtilties and their Marks of Certainty: an honeſt Farmer is at no loſs to know whether he is ſleeping or waking.

L.
[31]

THE Quickneſs of the Senſes, as well as the Health of the Body, depends very much on Sobriety and good Rules; tho', to be ſure, there are higher motives for Sobriety than Health and Pleaſure. And beſides that the Body is thus kept righter for the Exerciſe of its proper Functions, the Mind is freed from an exceſſive trouble in ſeeking after thoſe ſeeming Neceſſities of Luxury which grow upon us the more they are indulg'd, and make us delicate and fretful, uneaſy to ourſelves and others.

Ae.

BESIDES the five Senſes, the Naturaliſts generally ſpeak of a Senſorium, or common Senſe, which they reckon the ground of all Senſation, or a Medium, as it were, for modifying the Impreſſions and conveying them to the Mind. The Eye, ſay they, knows not that it ſees, nor the Ear that it hears, till this common Senſe interpoſes its Verdict.

THIS makes no addition to the number of our Senſes, whether it be granted or denied; it only ſerves, as a new Inſtrument, to account in ſome dark manner for their Operations. And perhaps it is owing to this Medium or Canal, among other things, that having two Eyes and two Ears we do not ſee nor hear double.

[32] MANY other things belong to the animal Life, which we may call indifferently Senſations, Actions, Powers, Faculties. Phyſicians ſpeak of the action of the Stomach, as well as that of Eating and Drinking. What name ſhall we give Sleeping, which puts a ſtop to moſt of our Powers and Actions? What ſhall we ſay of Hunger and Thirſt? Some have call'd them internal Senſes: Senſations they are at leaſt, and ſometimes extreme Preſſures; and our Pleaſures ariſe moſtly from ſuch uneaſy preceding Senſations. Thus Reſt and Motion are agreeable by turns: and that Faculty of moving from one place to another may be ſaid to enlarge our Confinement, (for we are but Priſoners here on Earth) ſo that the taking a walk becomes a Pleaſure, were it but in a Chamber. In ſhort, we are ſo wonderfully contriv'd, that we can hardly ſpeak ſenſe when we attempt to give any Deſcription of our ſelves; and muſt leave many things untouch'd after all. We feel our Wants, and are eager to ſatisfy them right or wrong. We have indeed ſtrong Arguments within us of our Indigence. Without Nouriſhment the poor Animal ſtarves in a very little time. Without Sleep he is intolerably uneaſy, and 'tis as great a neceſſity upon him as the former. But let us ſuppoſe all that's neceſſary for the Subſiſtence of the animal Life, Meat, Drink, Clothes, Sleep, Lodging, [33] and all theſe to the full, and of the beſt: what ſhould poor Man do without Objects to entertain the reſt of his Senſes! How melancholly muſt he be, and how little Joy would his fineſt Ideas often give him? I ſay often, becauſe ſometimes there is a pleaſure in them: but no body can promiſe himſelf the continuance of that Pleaſure, and ſometimes a Man would quit it for a Pipe of Tobacco. And if Ideas yield to the Senſes, theſe muſt yield to the Affections. For if the Affections are not gratified, or any one of them that chances to have the Dominion for the time, what good could the whole Earth do us? Let a Man in ſuch a ſituation try how he can ſuffice himſelf, and make the beſt of his Self-Love that he can, he'll find ſo little pleaſure from that Fountain, that he would wiſh he were out of Exiſtence.

V. IMAGINATION.

L.

SELF is indeed a poor Center, as Bacon ſays. But our Imagination impoſes upon us, I know not how.

Ae.

WE hardly know what Imagination is.

L.

'TIS a dark Affair indeed. This Faculty has ſuch a Dependence upon the [34] Senſes, that Mr. Hobbes calls it nothing but decaying Senſe; and he compares it to the toſſing of Water after the Wind ceaſes. But the Compariſon is lame. A thouſand things are imagin'd that never enter'd into the Senſes: and the Images of former Impreſſions are recalled at pleaſure.

FANCY is another word for the ſame Faculty; and both words are taken promiſcuouſly for the Faculty and the Act, and ſometimes for the thing imagined. Thus we ſay a mere Imagination, a mere Fancy.

SOMETIMES this Faculty is taken for Invention, and is diſtinguiſhed from Judgment: the one laying the Materials in order, which the other collects. And ſometimes Fancy is taken for Choice or Taſte: We ſay a Perſon of a good or bad Fancy.

Ae.

I believe the Fancy is a real Faculty of the Soul: you know * Milton calls it ſo, and deſcribes it finely.

[35] IT ſerves to recall the Images of Things formerly perceiv'd, and ſo they are more languid than in the firſt Impreſſion; as the Idea of the Sun and Light is very poor and imperfect at Midnight.

L.

BUT as we can recall abſent Images, they come ſometimes upon us uncall'd in a very tumultuous and irregular manner, and when we would gladly be rid of them; ſo that we may be ſaid to dream even in the day-time. It may be called Dreaming, tho' we do not entertain theſe Imaginations voluntarily, ſince they are for the moſt part but Caſtles in the Air. Nor is it future Proſpects only that intrude upon our Imagination: there's hardly a Trifle that we have done or heard of, twenty years ago, but what breaks in upon us, and often the moſt unſeaſonably in the World. 'Tis difficult to fix the Attention ſo long as not to wander before the Lord's Prayer can be repeated. All which argues ſome Diſtemper in our internal Frame, and yet very few I believe are ſenſible of it.

Ae.
[36]

THAT may be call'd involuntary Imagination. One and the ſame Faculty may be ſaid to be both paſſive and active. The Mind has certainly a Power of raiſing Images or Appearances of things within itſelf, and it often feels them rais'd it knows not how.

BUT tho' we can tell many things the Fancy can do, 'tis impoſſible to tell every thing. It adds, it pares, it joins, it ſeparates, it mixes, it jumbles, it builds, it razes; in ſhort, it works wonders in its own Shop, and the beſt Deſcription will ſtill be inferior to its power. It can frame new Ideas upon the model of old ones: as when we ſuppoſe a Perſon we have not ſeen, to reſemble one we have ſeen; and when we frame an Idea of Conſtantinople from what we have ſeen of London, or perhaps but from a Map of London. This ſort of coining is very often a forging. Nor muſt it ever be forgot, that ſuch images are quite wrong, or rather no Images at all; that are form'd when the particular Senſe is wanting or hurt: as in the known Story of the blind Man, that reckon'd Scarlet was like the Sound of a Trumpet.

L.

HOW the Imagination impoſes upon us when the Senſes are entire, is ſtill harder to explain. But ſometimes we ſay, the Imagination [37] is impos'd upon, when 'tis the Senſe that's miſtaken; as when the Stick appears crooked in water: but the Error lies neither in the Sight nor in the Fancy, but only in our pronouncing too haſlily. Hence we may ſee the advantage of that great Rule, Not to judge according to Appearances; eſpecially in things relating to Religion and common Life. As to Religion, 'tis well known how haſtly Imaginations, or rather haſty Concluſions, bring all things into calamity and ruin. And the bad effects of raſh Judgment are no leſs ſeen in Life: we ſee others in a glittering ſituation, we immediately pronounce them Happy: and by a natural conſequence think ourſelves miſerable, if we have not the like Finery. Ben Johnſon makes Fungoſo faint away, upon ſeeing another Beau get into the Faſhion before him. The ſame ſort of judging obtains in houſhold Furniture, Equipage, and Titles. 'Tis true, it may be call'd Staring rather than Judging, when we have no other Standard of Felicity but to gape and admire with the Mob,‘Qui ſtupet in Titulis—’ But ſuch is really the caſe, and ſuch influence has Imagination both on private Quiet and the publick, that the want of a Ribbon may endanger a Government. Pride indeed mixes with the Admiration: from what [38] other ſource can it proceed, that a Man in perfect Health is not eaſy to travel the length of a Street, unleſs he have a Coach? and that another is not eaſy in a very fine Coach, becauſe it has not a Coronet?

Ae.

'TIS this Faculty of Imagination, however, that makes the greateſt Figure in Life, eſpecially in Company, and ſtill more when there is a ſtock of Memory along with it. 'Tis alſo the Work-houſe of Poetry, and ſometimes of Politicks. Examples are needleſs.

L.

TO make a Figure in Company, there muſt be alſo a ſtock of Confidence.

Ae.

NOTHING truer. Mean time Invention has much the advantage of bare Imagination: and every Man either wiſhes for it, or boaſts of it. Some Perſons indeed have a very ready Talent. But even in this readineſs of Invention a Man has nothing to call his own: for tho' Expedients come in his head, yet he is not Maſter of that Art when he pleaſes; and 'tis a very common way of ſpeaking, ſuch a thing did or did not occur. So that the hitting on a good Thought may be reckon'd as much an accident, as the unexpected meeting with a Friend. And then, how many things do occur, that are very impertinent! Falſe Humour, Ribaldry, and dull Conceits! And [39] 'tis very vexatious when all this is paſſed for Wit.

L.

THE chief Buſineſs of Wit ſeems to be in ordinary Converſation and Scribling, whereas Invention is extended to all Affairs and Offices in Life; from the firſt Miniſter of State to the loweſt Mechanick, or the pooreſt Maſter of a Family.

Ae.

ROCHESTER has pleaſantly obſerv'd, that Riches and Power were very unequally ſhared among Mankind, but that it was quite otherwiſe as to Wit; at leaſt that every one was well ſatisfied with his own Portion:

Of this none thinks (the due Diviſion's ſuch)
His own too little, or his Friend's too much.

And tho' his Lordſhip (whoſe ſhare indeed was very great) ſaid this only for his Diverſion, yet really the Diviſion is more equal than is generally believed. One ſhall hear very good Jeſts and Repartees among People of the meaneſt condition: they have their ſmart Lads, their witty Laſſes, and their ſatyrical Old Men.

L.

What paſſes moſt currently for Wit in this Iſland, is properly but Humour, and often of a very low kind. But true Humour is when the Fancy puts different things together, [40] which have no outward Reſemblance, nor Connection in Nature. Thus Butler ſays of his learned Champion,

—He knew
When Butter does refuſe to come,
And Love proves croſs and humourſome.

Again, when things in tolerable eſteem, are apply'd to the moſt vulgar uſes:

For he by Geometrick Scale
Could take the ſize of Pots of Ale,
Reſolve by Sines and Tangents ſtreight
If Bread or Butter wanted weight.

IN ſuch a jumble of Images, ſome Ridicule naturally falls upon one of the things for its being in company with the other. And ſuch a merry burleſque Vein may be pretty allowable when it brings no contempt on Things or Perſons that ought to be more reſpectfully treated: for in that caſe it is like the hanging naſty Rags upon a fine Statue. Mr. Hobbes lays down ſome Regulations and Remarks with reference to this tickliſh Affair, which ſhew the greatneſs of his Genius beyond many that have ſucceeded him, and which likewiſe ſhew the unſucceſsfulneſs of any Genius, when it meddles in a deciſive manner with things out of its reach. You may compare what he ſays in the eighth [41] Chapter of his Leviathan, with what he had ſaid of the Cauſe of Senſation in the firſt.

‘"THE ſecret Thoughts of a Man run over all things, holy, prophane, clean, obſcene, grave, and light, without ſhame or blame; which verbal Diſcourſe cannot do, farther than the Judgment ſhall approve of the Time, Place, and Perſons. An Anatomiſt, or a Phyſician, may ſpeak or write his Judgment of unclean things [natural things] becauſe he is not to pleaſe, but profit: but for another Man to write his extravagant and pleaſant Fancies of the ſame, is as if a Man, from being tumbled into the dirt, ſhould come and preſent himſelf before good Company. And 'tis the want of Diſcretion that makes the difference. Again, in profeſt remiſſneſs of Mind, and familiar Company, a Man may play with the Sounds and equivocal Signification of Words; and that many times with Encounters of extraordinary Fancy: but in a Sermon, or in publick, or before Perſons unknown, or whom we ought to reverence, there is no jingling of words that will not be accounted Folly: and the difference is only in the want of Diſcretion. So that where Wit is wanting, it is not Fancy that is wanting, but Diſcretion. Judgment therefore without Fancy is Wit, but Fancy without Judgment not."’

Ae.
[42]

I was ſtill mightily pleas'd with that Paſſage.

L.

IF many Books (as well as Converſation) were examined by that Standard, they would run a great hazard. I would only differ from Hobbes in one of his Concluſions, that Judgment without Fancy is Wit. For it is the Exuberance of Fancy which produces the thing call'd Wit in general: the office of Judgment being to keep that Current within its due Limits. All poetical Compoſitions (whether in Verſe or Proſe, the Adventures of Telemachus, as well as the Iliad, or Aeneid) are Works of Wit and Judgment both, but are more properly referred to the Claſs of Wit; becauſe of the Invention and Fancy that prevails in them. A Hiſtory is the pure work of Judgment and Memory. But to do Mr. Hobbes juſtice, if Wit were taken according to the ſignification of the Latin and French Terms Ingenium and Eſprit, or according to our Engliſh word Genius, it were hard to refuſe the Epithet of Wit to a good Hiſtory, or to any Compoſition that's good in its kind.

Ae.

IN comparing poetical Works together, ſome of them are obſerved to abound moſt in Judgment, others in Fancy; as Fancy is reckon'd to prevail in Homer, and [43] Judgment in Virgil. In the French Performance 'tis hard to diſcover whether Fancy or Judgment prevails moſt; all is ſo well adjuſted, temper'd, and mix'd together. I do not mean to derogate from the Praiſe given to Milton's Paradiſe Loſt, a Performance of a quite different nature.

L.

I muſt own, I have often thought Milton has given too much ſwing to his Imagination.

Ae.

I ſhall not diſpute that with you.

L.

IN many Compoſitions, Humour is what appears more than either Judgment or Fancy: and often it deſerves not the name of Humour, but rather of Ribaldry. And this Obſervation ſeems to hold pretty well, that Wit in the moſt uſual Acceptation of it is an edg'd Tool, and generally hurtful to thoſe who have moſt of it. 'Tis a ſort of involuntary, incontinent, deriſive Spirit, which muſt burſt out either in Converſation, or on Paper, from a mixt deſire of pleaſing and of being admired; accompanied with a certain Pleaſure of disburthening. The ſame Lord Rocheſter ſays very truly,

And Wit was his vain frivolous pretence,
Of pleaſing others at his own expence.
Satyr on Man.

[44] But this deſire of pleaſing is not very diſintereſted.

VI. The PASSIONS.

Ae.

THE Force and Activity of the Soul appears much more in the Paſſions than in the bodily Senſes, which are but paſſive and languid in compariſon of thoſe violent Commotions, or even in compariſon of the more gentle Affections. When the Paſſions break looſe, they are like Hurricanes and Eruptions of Fire: and they are fitly call'd Paſſions, becauſe we ſuffer under their Dominion. But then, as they are bad Maſters, they are excellent Servants; as we uſe to ſay of Fire and Water: and without Paſſions, Life would be a very inſipid thing. For let us ſuppoſe a Man poſſeſt of a Fortune ſufficient to give him all the Gratifications of the Senſes, and that in the moſt elegant way imaginable: let him have Ragoûts and Burgundy, and Dogs and Horſes, and what elſe he has a mind for: yet if we ſuppoſe him in the bare ſtate of Senſuality, without Love and Friendſhip; no deſire of Knowledge, no reliſh of giving or receiving Obligations, neither ſatisfaction in Virtue, nor indignation at Vice: ſuch a Man would be reckon'd by moſt People to paſs his time very dully.

[45] ON the other hand, let us ſuppoſe a Man heartily animated with one ſingle Paſſion, it will keep him at leaſt awake; and the proſpect of ſatisfying it, will be to him inſtead of the moſt delicious Senſualities, and ſometimes inſtead of the Neceſſaries of Life.

L.

IT is ſometimes reckon'd, the ſtronger the Paſſions are, the better, provided they are under due Regulations. Be angry, and ſin not. But this I ſuppoſe can mean only a vigorous Conſtitution of Soul, to love heartily what we ought to love, and to hate heartily what we ought to hate. For there muſt be an Exception as to ſuch Paſſions, or ſuch Forms of them as can produce no good effect. For inſtance, Fear and Revenge: the latter is diabolical, and the former often very baſe. Such a Fear I mean, as is ſaid to give a body to our Imaginations, to diſconcert our moſt valuable Faculties; and which may be called an Alienation of Mind while it laſts: and ſuch a Fear alſo as makes us recede from any Duty that would expoſe us to the Cenſure of the unthinking World. Such Paſſions we had better wiſh extinguiſhed.

THE Paſſions, you know, are alſo called Affections of the Soul: for tho' Affection is taken particularly for Love (which word too has its different ſignifications) yet Affection or Paſſion denotes any Motion or [46] Feeling, whether agreeable or diſagreeable. And thus the Paſſions are commonly divided into the concupiſcible and the iraſcible, two old-faſhion'd words, but which intimate to us that all the various and variable Motions of the Soul turn upon theſe two Hinges, Deſire and Averſion.

THIS Diviſion of our Paſſions, or fetching them from two Sources, gives indeed no Idea either of Virtue or Vice; but only a general notion of Pleaſure and Pain in the Soul, without any conſideration of Merit or Demerit: ſo that there had need to be another Diviſion of the Paſſions, into the Virtuous and Vicious. But becauſe this way of claſſing them would be inſignificant to thoſe, who will not allow the diſtinction of Virtue and Vice; it will be enough to divide them into the Social Paſſions, and the Selfiſh, or the Diſintereſted and the Intereſted. 'Tis true, thoſe Perſons will not allow there is ſuch a thing as Diſintereſtedneſs neither: but they'll at leaſt allow there is ſuch a thing as Compaſſion, Tenderneſs, Kindneſs, (they may chuſe their word) and ſo the Paſſions might be diſtinguiſhed into the Kind and Unkind, which I ſuppoſe would paſs current with all the World: ſince the greateſt Advocates for Self-Love do not deny that Men can be friendly, but only affirm that their Friendſhip is founded upon their own Intereſt.

Ae.
[47]

I think this may be ſaid too, that as Deſire and Averſion (eſpecially when they come the length of Paſſion) imply Want, Uneaſineſs, Trouble, and violent Motion in the Soul; ſo Joy is the Satisfaction, Delight, and Acquieſcence that enſues on our meeting with our Deſires, or even on getting free of our Averſions. Joy is to the Soul what Pleaſure is to the Senſes: (and Sorrow may be called its Pain) with this difference, that true Joy and Sorrow of the rational Soul are ſtill founded upon Reaſon. And in all the Paſſions the Will has ſome more power than in the bodily Feelings, which we cannot augment nor leſſen: the greateſt Stoick muſt feel the Gout; the moſt abſtemious Recluſe cannot put a ſtop to his Taſting, while the Glaſs is at his mouth. Whereas in the Paſſions or Feelings of the Soul, a Man can either cheriſh them, and conſequently raiſe them higher, or he can make ſome Efforts againſt them, and we ſee they die the ſooner.

SIMPLE Deſire, and ſimple Averſion, are juſtly reckon'd blind. And if Fancy may be ſaid to enter often into our Deſires, it enters yet oftner into our Averſions: for we can generally give a better Reaſon why we like, than why we diſlike. So that many of our Averſions are much owing to ſome diſorder in ourſelves, or our being out of [48] Tune; which appears remarkably in thoſe Averſions and Diſguſts that are perſonal.

L.

I believe Hope and Fear iſſue from Deſire and Averſion, according to the Views, or the Apprehenſions which the Mind hath of meeting with things agreeable or vexatious. Hope and Fear therefore are ſuppos'd to be attended with ſome reaſon: the pannick Fear excepted as before, becauſe it concludes the dreadful thing to be already preſent. Our Hopes ſeldom impoſe ſo far upon us: tho' they riſe very high, and from very narrow Foundations in ſome Tempers, and not the worſt ones neither. But if we conſider Hope as a rational Expectation of the Mind, it will rather come under the Liſt of the Virtues than of the Paſſions.

THE natural Fear of Death is wiſely implanted in us, for the Preſervation of our bodily Frame: and neither the fear of Death nor of Pain is ſhameful, unleſs it make us ſhun what we ought to do, or do what we ought to ſhun. Luxury and ſoft Living muſt neceſſarily increaſe Fear, and magnify Danger: as 'tis told of an honeſt Gentleman, who thought to have join'd King Charles I. but could not reſolve to lie out of his own Bed.

Ae.

POOR Gentleman!

L.
[49]

I was thinking that as the Mind from ſimple Deſire and Averſion, Appetite and Abhorrence, proceeds to Hope and Fear: ſo when theſe are accompliſhed, or come to their period, it would ſeem to proceed no farther, but to reſt on the Enjoyment, or in the Affliction; tho' Affliction or Sorrow is not properly a State of Reſt.

Ae.

JOY, no doubt, is Acquieſcence and Delight. When we are told that Joy is of ſhort continuance, I ſuppoſe we are to underſtand it of the Pleaſure of the Senſes and of the Imagination: for the Soul ſeems to be capable of infinite Joy, both as to Duration and Extent; and no leſs capable of Sorrow.

L.

BUT how hard is it to give the Anatomy of the Soul, and to reduce all its Motions into a regular Syſtem! I know not whether our Terms or our Ideas fail us ſooneſt. How many little Baſtard-Paſſions are there that go under the name of Ill-Humour! Fretting, Diſguſt, Chagrin, Contradiction, &c. ſhall we refer theſe to the Article of Anger or of Pride? Or are they not rather made up of both?

HOWEVER, we muſt never blame Nature; as if ſhe had put ſo many ſources of Trouble and Diſquiet within us: for we [50] have likewiſe other Sources, or Funds of Satisfaction, if we would cultivate them faithfully; but this we can never do, till we endeavour to change the Principle of our Deſires and Actions.

Ae.

I confeſs 'tis the Principle, or Cauſe, our Paſſions proceed from, that makes them deſerve either Praiſe or Blame. Thus Grief is ſhameful, when it proceeds from the loſs of Money; but honourable, in the loſs of a Friend.

L.

NUMBERLESS Obſervations might be made on the Paſſions, each whereof would require a Book, if one was to conſider their Riſe, their Progreſs, their Decay, their Extinction, their Riſing again, their giving way to other Paſſions quite oppoſite, their Combinations, their Force, their Subtilty, their Enchantment, &c. All which are but the different turnings of Human Nature.

Ae.

THE Duke of Rochefoucault would throw them all into the bottomleſs Pit of Self-Love.

L.

IT will be good to conſult the beſt Authors who have wrote of our ſeveral Powers and Propenſions, if they write good Senſe, and make a true report of Nature; whatever their Profeſſion be, Clergyman or Laick: and the Sex by no means to be excepted, [51] ſince we have from their hands ſome of the fineſt Compoſitions upon the moſt delicate and important Subjects.

INDEED the Paſſions (like every thing elſe) are better known by feeling than deſcription. What better can be ſaid of Love, than that 'tis Love? 'Tis difficult even to give a Liſt of them. Nor do I find people agreed either as to their Number or their Claſſes.

Ae.

*MR. Hobbes has treated of a great many Motions of the Soul under one Head of the Paſſions. And the long train he there mentions, are but Modes, and Diverſifications of five or ſix primary Motions, which he calls the Simple Paſſions, and perhaps fitly enough, viz. Appetite, Deſire, Love, Averſion, Hate, Joy, and Grief. I think he proceeds in his Scheme thus:

" Appetite with an Opinion of attaining is called Hope.

" The ſame without ſuch Opinion, Deſpair.

*** " Sudden Courage, Anger.

" Conſtant Hope, Confidence of our ſelves.

*** " Deſire of good to another; Benevolence, Good-will, Charity. If to Man generally, Good-nature.

[52] HE diſcuſſes other Paſſions or Tendencies after the ſame Aphoriſtical manner, and (it would ſeem) juſt as they have come into his head; ſuch as Ambition, Puſillanimity, Magnanimity, Valour, Liberality, Miſerableneſs, [Churliſhneſs] Love, Jealouſy, . . . Curioſity, Religion, . . . . Pannick Terror, . . . Glory, . . . Dejection, . . . . Laughter, . . . . Shame, . . . Impudence, Pity, Cruelty, Emulation, Envy. He ſpeaks of certain Tendencies that I do not remember, and I wonder he ſaid nothing of others, ſince he was giving the Hiſtory of Man; for inſtance, Affectation. But 'tis hard for one to know what he ſhould write, or what he ſhould not write: and there is ſomething ſo like Pedantry in all thoſe diſcuſſions, that perhaps Mr. Hobbes has been glad to diſpatch them off as ſoon as he could; and it muſt be own'd, he often writes in a very natural way. I cannot, however, ſubſcribe to all his Aphoriſms or Definitions; for inſtance, that conſtant Hope is a confidence in our ſelves: for it may proceed as naturally from a confidence in another. And as to Religion, he places both the true and the falſe only in Fear: ‘"Fear of Power inviſible feigned by the Mind, or imagined from Tales publickly allowed, Religion; not allowed, Superſtition: and when the Power imagined is truly ſuch as we imagine, True Religion."’

L.
[53]

A poor account of true Religion!

Ae.

We find by Experience that the Paſſions domineer by turns; and when two, or more of them, are in competition at once, the weakeſt muſt certainly yield, unleſs Reaſon interpoſeth. But the Duke of Rochefoucault obſerves, that Sloth or Indolence (tho' it deſerves not the name of a Paſſion) often gets the better of them all, and triumphs equally over our Vices and our Virtues.

THERE is another of his Maxims which I cannot ſo eaſily join with, that the Paſſions are but different Degrees of Heat and Cold in the blood. That I think were a little too mechanical: tho' we are undeniably under a ſort of Mechaniſm, and are drawn like Puppets by Strings, as Antoninus has expreſt it. We may be literally ſaid upon ſome occaſions to be tranſported and inflamed. Nothing is more common even in the ſacred Writings than ſuch Expreſſions.

L.

THE Degrees of every Paſſion are infinite: a Man may eaſily ſuppoſe himſelf capable of greater Sorrow, or greater Joy, than ever he has yet felt. And an extreme violence of any one of the Paſſions is more than enough to ſeparate the Soul from the Body.

VII. COMPLEXION, DISPOSITION, HUMOUR.

[54]
Ae.

THE Conſtitution of the Body is reckon'd to depend much on the Fibres, the Blood, and the ſolid Parts and the Fluids; from the good or bad Temperament or Habit of all which, we may expect the better or worſe Health, the longer or ſhorter Life. The Complexion implies ſomething more a-kin to the Soul, tho' it ſeems alſo to depend on the more or leſs happy mixture of the Elements, and certain Chymical Ingredients in us.

L.

THERE is a ſtrange Variety among Mankind: but to give the preference to one Complexion above the reſt, might be thought too forward and partial. Each Complexion has its advantages, and each has its defects. The ſanguine Perſon would think it hard to be reproach'd for the haſtineſs of his Temper, which ſometimes indeed flies out like Gun-powder; but when he cools and comes to himſelf, he is all kindneſs and civility. It is moſt adviſable for the Complexions not to diſpute too much about their ſeveral Prerogatives: for in all ſuch Reckonings, each Party comes off with loſs.

Ae.
[55]

AND there is nothing a Man diſparages in another that he has not a part of himſelf, and ſometimes the largeſt part.

L.

THE Complexion and Diſpoſition ſeem to differ in this point, that the latter is a more internal thing than the former. We ſhall find two Perſons equally ſanguine or equally phlegmatick, and yet the one remarkably prouder than the other. Pride is not reckon'd a complexional thing, but to lie deeper in the Soul: (the ſame may be ſaid of Covetouſneſs) and ſome Souls have a remarkable Tendency to ſome predominant thing, almoſt from the Cradle.

Ae.

BUT whatever Inclination prevails in the Soul for the time being, the Wits are ſet at work to bring it about. Men are both drawn by Pleaſure, and purſue it: the ſame Perſon, as it were, going out of himſelf, for what he cannot find within. 'Tis true, 'tis for his own ſake that he goes thus out of himſelf: but then he often goes on the Errands of a Fool, or a Madman: ſo that the Term Self-Love might be with as great propriety chang'd into Self-Will; and 'tis in this view that the Duke of Rochefoucault takes it when he ſays, it will purſue things not only frivolous, but deſtructive, merely becauſe it will.

L.
[56]

THIS Quality of the Mule muſt be purely unreaſonable, and Butler ſays excellently:

For Obſtinacy's ne'er ſo ſtiff
As when 'tis in a wrong belief.

But it is not always from Pride that this Obſtinacy ariſes: for it acts often without any Reflection on its own Qualifications, or any regard to Conſequences.

Ae.

THERE is another Diſpoſition no leſs hard to account for, not leſs hard to conquer; and that is, Inconſtancy. The Soul grows weary; and loaths, and knows not why: the Object has loſt nothing of its agreeableneſs, and yet can no longer pleaſed And this happens as ſuddenly as frequently.

*New Paſſions new Opinions ſtill excite,
And what we like at Noon, we loath at Night.

Heaps of Verſe and Proſe might be produced on this Subject. And it may be ſaid the Paſſions and Opinions excite one another, tho' the Paſſions or Inclinations are the greater Favourites; and we take it more impatiently to have our Inclinations condemn'd than our Opinions. We are [57] alſo for the moſt part as forward to ſhew our Opinions, as we are unwilling to ſhew our Inclinations; in which reſpect theſe laſt may not be very ill compar'd to a dirty Shirt.

L.

THO' it is not poſſible to find words for all the Motions of the Soul, yet we may diſcover what things Men are moſt naturally carried to, when we diſcover their Differences of Complexion and Diſpoſition. And it were very profitable for us to make thoſe Diſcoveries at home: but we are ſeldom at leiſure for that; nor indeed is the Study very agreeable. The Patrons of Self-love would have fewer Proſelytes, if People were more inclin'd to Self-examination. But whether we look at home or abroad, the nature of things will continue the ſame: and we may make this general Concluſion as to the difference between the Complexion and the Diſpoſition, that 'tis the Complexion which makes us quicker or ſlower, warmer or colder, and the like: as 'tis from the Diſpoſition, that we are more or leſs proud, humble, cruel, mild, covetous, honeſt, and whatever falls under the Denomination of Vice or Virtue.

Ae.

THE Knowledge of Tempers and Diſpoſitions ſeems to be very neceſſary for a firſt Miniſter, in order to deal with his particular Men, to gratify one with Money, another with a Ribbon, and ſo on.

L.
[58]

SOME are even gratified with a Nod or a Smile.

Ae.

HUMOUR is a word that ſeems to imply ſomething different both from Complexion and Diſpoſition, which are reckon'd ſettled things; whereas Humour changes like the Weather, and may be call'd the Mother of Freaks, Whims, Frolicks, and even of Moaping, the reverſe of theſe. Good Humour, or good Temper is more properly good Diſpoſition; and to be in good humour, and good-humour'd, are different things; the worſt-temper'd Perſon being ſometimes in good humour. But in all the Turns and Caſts of Human Nature (whatever ſource they come from) there is ſuch an endleſs variety, that every Perſon may be juſtly called an Original.

VIII. LIBERTY.

AFTER what we have obſerv'd of the Paſſions, and Inclinations, their inſinuating Power and open Violence, and from what is daily to be ſeen in the world; we might be induced to think there is no ſuch thing as Liberty in Man, but that he were a piece of Clock-work, or an Engine actuated by Fire, Wind or Water.

Ae.
[59]

SOME have refuſed Liberty even to the Deity, ſubjecting their Jupiter to Fate: and our Moderns borrow from old Opinions.

OTHERS, thinking Liberty the Prerogative of the Almighty alone, cannot allow it to Mankind, leſt their abuſe of it might ſeem to alter the Purpoſes of Heaven, or leſt too much ſhould be aſcrib'd to Creatures in procuring their own happineſs. But no ſuch Conſequences can be apprehended from all the Liberty that we ſuppoſe to be in weak Man: 'tis nothing but ſuch a Power as the opening or ſhutting his Eyes, not of ſeeing without Light, a Power only to accept or reject what is freely offer'd him, and which he could by no means furniſh to himſelf; no more than he can make the fruits to grow for the Subſiſtence of his natural Life, tho' few will deny that he can ſow and plant.

L.

LIBERTY, no doubt, is a pure Gift from Heaven: and in all Creatures it is only a Power to uſe their Faculties for the Purpoſes they were given. In this general acceptation of it, the meaneſt Creature that has Life has Liberty. And we ſee among Beaſts and Birds great marks of Deliberation and Choice.

Ae.

IN rational Creatures, Liberty muſt be ſuppoſed not only as a Foundation of [60] Virtue, but of Reaſon itſelf: ſince the niceſt Engine in the World cannot be ſaid to act rationally, nor ſo much as to act freely. Mr. Hobbes, indeed, propoſes to reconcile Liberty and Neceſſity by the Compariſon of a River which is ſaid to run freely when nothing hinders its courſe. But this is mere playing with words. A River will hardly be called a free Agent: and I think it may be affirm'd, that thoſe who make Self-Love the ſole Spring, or Motive, of human Actions, allow no more Liberty to a Man than to a River. There is only this difference of Conſciouſneſs between them, the one knows what it is doing, the other not: but both are under a like overbearing unvirtuous Neceſſity.

L.

ANOTHER Term for Liberty is Free-Will, which imports no more than a freedom of Choice. But ſometimes People confound the Will with the Inclinations; and theſe having ſo much the upperhand in us, 'tis no wonder if Liberty is abſolutely deny'd. But as we do many things from our Inclinations, ſo we do many things againſt them; but can ſtrictly be ſaid to do nothing againſt our will.

*'TIS but a Jeſt that Butler ſays on ſwearing. The acting againſt our Inclinations is a pretty good proof of our Liberty.

Ae.
[61]

THE Term Liberum Arbitrium ſuppoſes the Underſtanding to act without any byaſs, or rather without any thing that may darken it; in which caſe it may be ſaid, to act freely and neceſſarily both: freely, becauſe it is not hinder'd, as Mr. Hobbes ſays of the River; and neceſſarily, becauſe its nature is to ſee and judge. But there is ſtill a further Power of chuſing, after all Tryal and Examination is made. If it be alledged that this choice it ſelf is determined; it may be ask'd by what? If'tis by the reaſonableneſs of the thing, then the choice is as it ought to be; but it cannot be ſaid to be neceſſarily determin'd, becauſe it might have been (and often is) otherwiſe; that is, contrary to Reaſon.

L.

MAN then ſeems to have got a Power or a Spring within himſelf to determine him: if this Spring be called the Will, it muſt be free, ſince a forc'd Will is no Will.

Ae.

THE unhappy Diſputes concerning Liberty being rather with reference to things moral than natural, it might help to ſhorten them, if it were referred to every man's Breaſt, whether in any thing he ever did that was wrong, he could not have done otherwiſe? Unleſs this Queſtion be [62] anſwer'd in the Affirmative, what Foundation can there be for Remorſe, or even for Guilt, or for Juſtice in puniſhing it? All Divines admit of Moral Evil: wherein can it conſiſt but in the abuſe of Liberty, or the making a wrong choice! St. Auguſtine ſearching for the Origin of Sin, lodges it only in the Free-Will of the Creature: being well aſſured that Blame (which muſt fall ſomewhere) cannot fall on the Author of all Good. The Gnoſticks indeed maintain'd with a bare face that God was the Author of Sin: and 'tis probable, the abſurdity of that Thought has given riſe to the other, the two Eternal Principles.

L.

THE Scripture too always ſpeaks of Man as a Creature endow'd with Freedom of Choice. Hence ſo many Exhortations, Threatnings, Expoſtulations, and expreſs Declarations of his Liberty, and that his Ruin is only of himſelf. Many Texts might be adduced: but I ſhall only read you a few Lines of Milton, who founds the moſt of that excellent Work of his on Scripture Authority. He ſuppoſes the Almighty to declare that Man will be deceived by the Suggeſtions of a more crafty revengeful Spirit.

*—So will fall
He and his faithleſs Progeny: whoſe Fault?
Whoſe but his own? Ingrate, he had of me
[63] All he could have; I made him juſt and right,
Sufficient to have ſtood, though free to fall.
Such I created all th' Ethereal Powers
And Spirits, both them who ſtood, and them who fail'd;
Freely they ſtood who ſtood, and fell who fell.
Not free, what proof could they have given ſincere
Of true Allegiance, conſtant Faith or Love,
Where only what they needs muſt do appear'd,
Not what they would? What Praiſe could they receive?
What Pleaſure I, from ſuch Obedience pay'd?
When Will and Reaſon (Reaſon alſo is Choice)
Uſeleſs and vain, of freedom both deſpoil'd,
Made paſſive both, had ſerv'd Neceſſity,
Not me. They therefore as to right belong'd,
So were created, nor can juſtly accuſe
Their Maker, or their making, or their Fate;
As if Predeſtination over-rul'd
Their Will diſpos'd by abſolute Decree
Or high Foreknowledge; they themſelves decreed
Their own revolt, not I; if I foreknew,
Foreknowledge had no Influence on their Fault;
[64] Which had no leſs prov'd certain unforeknown.
So without leaſt Impulſe or ſhadow of Fate,
Or aught by me immutably foreſeen,
They treſpaſs, Authors to themſelves in all
Both what they judge, and what they chuſe; for ſo
I form'd them free, and free they muſt remain,
Till they enthrall themſelves; I elſe muſt change
Their Nature, and revoke the high Decree.
Unchangeable, eternal, which ordain'd
Their Freedom; they themſelves ordain'd their Fall.
The firſt Sort by their own ſuggeſtion fell,
Self-tempted, ſelf-deprav'd: Man falls deceiv'd
By the other firſt. Man therefore ſhall find Grace.
Ae.

HAPPY Genius!

L.

IT would be an idle thing to make any Commentary upon ſo clear Senſe. It muſt only be remember'd, that the Liberty of Created Beings is rather a Power of making themſelves miſerable, if they will needs do it, than any Power of making themſelves happy, tho' they have ever ſo great a mind, without a higher Support, and a Compliance with the Conditions upon which Happineſs is yet before them.

Ae.
[65]

Theſe two words Fate and Fortune ill underſtood, have helped to perplex Men in their diſputes upon Liberty and other Subjects. Neither of them are words current in Sacred Writ: but Fate, which is the ſame thing as Edict, is ſometimes taken for the Decree of the Supreme Being, as it relates to the happineſs of intelligent Creatures; and it is alſo conſider'd as the ſettled Order of Nature, and the connection of Cauſes with their Effects. A Stone goes to the bottom, whilſt a piece of Wood floats above: the Fire melts Metals, hardens the Clay, and reduces Wood to aſhes: and Nature is another word for this Conſtitution of things. To uſe Scripture-Images, if a Man takes a Coal in his Boſom, he muſt be burnt with it; and if he touches Pitch, it will ſtick to him. Such neceſſary conſequences might therefore be called Fate, and eternal Decrees: to which may be added the Pleaſures and Pains of the Mind, from a review of its good or bad actions: Remorſe is an natural as Sickneſs; and the Torture of the Mind may become ſo great, that a Man may be ſaid to be in Hell.

L.

All ſuch Conſequences, and the whole Courſe of Nature, are really of the Divine Eſtabliſhment; and Liberty is ſo in a particular manner. So many Faculties without the power of uſing them to the right purpoſes, [66] would be a much ſorer Evil than what Solomon obſerv'd, of a Man to whom God had given Riches, but had not given him power to eat thereof. But the laſt part of the Verſe is not to be preciſely taken: for the gifts of God are compleat and perfect. You know what * Prudentius has ſaid on this head of Liberty, after he had laid the Objection as ſtrong againſt it as poſſible. And it ſeems Homer has had it much at heart, that the Abuſe of Liberty ſhould not be charged againſt the Gods.

Perverſe Mankind! whoſe Wills created free,
Charge all their Crimes on Abſolute Decree.

Is it not ſo that Mr. Pope has it?

Ae.

I think ſo. Some have made ſtrange work with the Decrees of God!

L.

BUT thoſe Opinions are wearing out in this Iſland.

Ae.

THE word Nature has alſo occaſioned Diſputes among Men, ſome having confounded it with the Author himſelf; whereas it is only to be look'd upon as his Divine Art. Some of the Stoicks fail'd much in this point, and Spinoza improv'd upon it, to the total excluſion of the Deity. All that [67] Nature implies, is but the Birth or Production of things, which ſtill ſuppoſes a Producer or Author, who was (according to the Expreſſions of the Pſalmiſt) before the Mountains were brought forth.

L.

FORTUNE is a more inſignificant Term than either Nature or Fate: Juvenal ſays, 'tis only we that make her a Goddeſs. And indeed when the Word is rightly conſidered, there's nothing at all in it; no more than in Chance, Hit, Accident, and the like, which can produce nothing; as all the different Materials for building collected together could not put up the Houſe, without the Contriver and the Workman. There's a trifling Exception of a Pencil Apelles is ſaid to have thrown in his anger, which perform'd what he wanted to have added to the Piece: but 'tis to be remembred the Colours were already prepared by the Hand, and the Pencil thrown by it; ſo the Hand ſtill gave the Direction, tho' out of the common way. There is a large Field for ſuch Accidents as that, if we conſider the Freaks of Man, and the preſent State of things. Inſtances of ſucceſsful Raſhneſs are very common.

Ae.

SOMETIMES our exterior Situation, or Circumſtances in this Life, is called Fortune: and ſome Perſons being ſo unexpectedly rais'd, and others depreſs'd, without [68] much to be aſcrib'd either to their Skill or Merit; thoſe who have not recourſe to Providence are induced to think with Salluſt, that Fortune certainly rules in every thing. But there is no loſs tho' particular words ſtand, if people are but convinc'd of an inviſible unerring Direction and Superintendency in the Government of the Univerſe, and in the Concerns of every individual Perſon. Our Saviour has deſign'd we ſhould be much perſuaded of this, when he told us the Hairs of our Head are all numbered.

L.

THE Belief of an over-ruling Providence is mighty comfortable, and Liberty is very conſiſtent with it: 'tis agreeable to find that Gift aſſerted; for without admitting Liberty, Men can hardly be brought to condemn themſelves. 'Tis only the Atheiſts that formally deny it, others diſpute rather about the Extent and the Conſequences of it. But 'tis remarkable, that the ſame Milton makes thoſe Diſputes the Amuſement of ſome of the fallen Angels; and ſo an Amuſement, one would think, to be avoided.

Others apart ſat on a Hill retir'd,
In Thoughts more elevate, and reaſon'd high
Of Providence, Foreknowledge, Will and Fate,
Fixt Fate, Free-will, Foreknowledge abſolute,
And found no end, in wandring Mazes loſt.

IX. REASON.

[69]
Ae

HITHERTO we have chiefly conſider'd Human Nature with reference to the Senſes and Affections, according to that Diviſion of Body, Soul and Spirit; the laſt of which I will be glad to have your opinion of. For tho' the Soul is often taken for the higheſt thing that can be ſuppoſed in Man, and is to be conſidered as an immortal thinking Principle, of an inexpreſſible Activity, and of a quite different Creation and Conſtitution from unactive lifeleſs Matter; yet according to the Plan above mentioned, there is a ſuperiour Region in Man, called indifferently by the Philoſophers Mind, Spirit, or the governing Part: and what they call Spirit, St. Paul takes in a higher ſenſe ſtill.

L.

HERE is my Opinion without ceremony. In the Body itſelf mention is made of three Regions, the Belly, the Breaſt, and the Head; which bears ſome analogy to the Senſes, the Affections, and the Underſtanding. But as there is no fix'd Standard for moſt words, ſometimes the Heart, and ſometimes the Bowels, is made uſe of, to ſignify thoſe Sentiments of Tenderneſs and Pity, and alſo the Seat of them; the Head being [70] generally taken for the Seat of the Judgment, as well as for the Judgment it ſelf.

ACCORDING to theſe three Regions in the Body, the Pleaſures are generally claſſed, and denominated. Thoſe of Senſe being the loweſt, are ſent down to the Belly: whoſe God is their Belly, ſays St. Paul, and he gives a Character of the Inhabitants of Crete * from one of themſelves. The Chineſe God of Pleaſure is alſo repreſented like a diſmal Creature, all Belly. But theſe Repreſentations and Expreſſions are only figurative, and not deſign'd to be taken according to the preciſe Letter. The Pleaſure of the Taſte it ſelf is far from the Belly. The Pleaſure of the Eye has yet leſs connection with it; ſo that the Epithet of the Cretians ſeems deſign'd to expreſs their Luxury in general, tho' perhaps they have been particularly remarkable for eating and drinking.

MEAN-TIME the Body, which we ſtudy to ſoak in Pleaſure like a Sponge, is of it ſelf but a mere dead Husk, and drops off at laſt: and a Man reckons upon it no farther, than as a Machine for bringing him Pleaſure, and would ſometimes be content to change it for another Body, if he could, and does often wear it out before its natural period.

[71] BUT to come to the higheſt Region in Man. The Mind, or Underſtanding, is conſider'd as a Principle of Light or Diſcerning; as the Senſes and Affections are ſuppoſed to be blind. The Mind ſees the Order and Value of Things, their Relations, and Properties; and this either by immediate Intuition, like the bodily Eye, or by a ſort of Proceſs, which conſiders one thing after another; and ſo is called both Reaſoning and Reaſon.

THUS Reaſon, or Judgment, is taken both as a Faculty and as an Act. We ſay a Perſon of Judgment, or of no Judgment; a Judgment given, and the like.

YOU know Reaſon is alſo taken for the Cauſe or Motive; as ſuch a Law is founded upon ſuch a Reaſon, and ſuch a thing has no Reaſon in it, or no Senſe in it. The ſame words are uſed promiſcuouſly for different things, and 'tis but a dry affair to adjuſt their Significations.

Ae.

IT ſeems one great uſe of the reaſoning Faculty is to ſupply the want of Intuition, which is ſeeing at a glance. For this purpoſe the Mind puts things in a certain order, as Figures in Cyphering, that we may find out the Sum, the Remainder, the Proportion, or whatever we want to [72] know about them. Theſe three Operations of numbering, weighing, and meaſuring, ſeem to anſwer to the ſeveral Exerciſes of Reaſon; and ſo 'tis compared ſometimes to a Ballance, ſometimes to a Line.

REASON then muſt fall into the groſſeſt Miſtakes, when it meddles in things beyond its Line, or out of its Sphere: in this caſe 'tis like an incompetent Judge, and the Concluſions muſt be abſurd. * Buchanan's Paraphraſe on the ſeventy-third Pſalm is very applicable to this purpoſe. It miſtakes alſo in things within its Sphere, when it is impoſed upon by the Affections, like a Judge that's corrupted. And nothing is truer than that Obſervation, the Underſtanding is the Dupe of the Inclinations.

L.

BUT the Underſtanding, or Reaſon, however often miſ-led, may ſtill (in ſome reſpect) be called the leading Faculty, and ſuppoſed to be free of any byaſs; all Light, without any Heat. Pure Deliberation, aſſenting, denying, chuſing, rejecting, &c. imply the operation of the Head only, as if the Heart had no intereſt in the thing: for certainly [73] we judge thus coolly on ſome occaſions. And as Liberty was conſidered but as a power to make uſe of our Faculties in general, ſo the laſt ſtep of Reaſon is to make its choice, which it does (in ſound unbyaſs'd Minds) according to the nature of Things; or, in other words, according to the Truth.

AT preſent, we are ſuppoſing Reaſon to be entire, ſo far as it goes, without conſidering the narrowneſs of its Limits, nor the Clogs that are upon it, nor whether theſe Clogs are moſt owing to the Appetites or the Paſſions. All ſuch Diſcuſſions are endleſs.

TAKING Reaſon therefore only for the natural Light of the Mind, we may well enough conclude, that natural Truths, or Principles, belong to it, as viſible Objects belong to the Eye. Knowledge is but the ſeeing things as they are, or in the way they are deſign'd to appear to us: for, ſtrictly ſpeaking, we ſee few things as they really are, no more than we ſee the Sun in the Firmament as he is.

Ae.

WE may thus have ſome little Idea of Faith, Reaſon, and Revelation; the laſt of which (like the drawing of a Curtain) gives a Diſcovery of what the natural Powers of Man, or the preſent Frame of his Underſtanding could not find out, [74] By Revelation Men might be inform'd of the ſtate of Things, paſt, preſent, and to come; of Things relating to the viſible World and the inviſible, of Things in Earth, and Things in Heaven.

WE may likewiſe ſee how Faith is taken in different Senſes: one acceptation of it is Truſt, Confidence, Dependence; another acceptation is Honeſty and Fair-dealing, bona fides. But the acceptation relating moſt to the preſent purpoſe, is that Divine Conviction of the Underſtanding, whereby we cannot refuſe our aſſent. And tho' we ſee but through a glaſs darkly, as St. Paul ſays, (and how few ſee like him!) yet the leaſt remove from Infidelity is a kind of Faith: and if there is but an honeſt Heart to receive it into, it will grow like the greateſt Trees from the leaſt of Seeds. Nor is a Man to be diſcouraged if he does not perceive its growth; and even tho' he ſhould think he had no Faith at all. Such a dark uncertain ſtate, as it is very afflicting, may perhaps alſo be purifying. But to ſay the truth, moſt people are in the contrary ſtate, rather inclin'd to think their Faith greater than it is, than leſs: and ſuch Perſons would do well to conſider what Faith is, and examine their own by St. Paul's Definition, who calls it the Subſtance of Things hoped for, and the Evidence of Things not ſeen. We [75] ought to take great care that our Faith be not found to be bare Opinion.

THUS we ſee alſo that there is a difference between Faith and Reaſon, or that ſome things are ſpiritually diſcerned, and others naturally. I only wiſh it were conſider'd how Religion and Society ſuffer by ſetting theſe two Gifts at variance. Religion ſuffers when things are obtruded as Articles of Faith, and an Aſſent required to them under the higheſt Pains, without ſatisfying the Mind that ſuch Articles are of the boaſted Importance, or even that they are not repugnant to common Senſe. 'Tis true, Religion cannot properly ſuffer: but Society, or the particular Members of it, ſuffer many different ways; Perſecution and Obſtinacy mutually exciting each other. All Hiſtories, eccleſiaſtick and civil, are the melancholly Regiſters of mutual Oppreſſion, Bigotry, and Contempt among all Parties. And yet all Parties muſt make uſe of Reaſon, either true or falſe, when they argue for their Faith; otherwiſe there muſt be nothing for it but an Act of Parliament, and a Standing Army. The Proteſtants are profeſſed Admirers of Reaſon, their Faith hangs upon it; and the Papiſts, who ſay they believe upon the Authority of the Church, muſt make uſe of Reaſon to prove the Church is infallible.

L.
[76]

RELIGION even ſuffers by ſuch Diſputes and Hatred, in ſo far as occaſion is given to its profeſt Enemies to deſpiſe it; and to the negligent part of Mankind to be ſtill the more careleſs about it. I have interrupted you.

Ae.

To ſee Things as they are (even the Things of Nature) there muſt be another Light than the natural. How little do we know about the Things we ſee and handle? only ſome of their outward Properties, Colour, Hardneſs, and the like; as Mr. Locke inſtances in Gold, its Yellowneſs, Ductility, and other Qualities; without any Knowledge of the Eſſence, as 'tis called, or the Subſtratum. Again, how little do we know about ourſelves? Can we tell, as Dr. Garth ſays,

Why paler Looks impetuous Rage proclaim,
And why chill Virgins redden into flame? &c.

And Dr. Burnet, who was as much a Freethinker as a Man ſhould be, takes notice how little we know of Things that are Objects of Faith. Shall I read you a few of his elegant Expreſſions?

L.

WITH all my heart.

Ae.

‘—"Theſe Revelations, as moſt in Sacred Writ, are ſhort and incompleat: [77] as being deſign'd for Practice more than for Speculation, or to awaken and excite our Thoughts, rather than to ſatisfy them. Accordingly we read in Scripture of a Trium Deity: of God made Fleſh, in the Womb of a Virgin; barbarouſly crucified by the Jews: deſcending into Hell: viſibly aſcending into Heaven: and ſitting at the right hand of God the Father, above Angels and Arch-angels. Theſe great Things are imperfectly reveal'd to us in this Life; which we are to believe ſo far as they are reveal'd; in hopes theſe Myſteries will be made more intelligible in that happy State to come"—’

THAT Article of the Crucifixion, and the other of the Aſcenſion, are indeed two Points of Fact which Reaſon may be ſatisfied about, by enquiring into the Character of the Witneſſes, and other things relating to Proof. The Crucifixion is a piece of Hiſtory, and a much leſs ſurpriſing Event than the Aſcenſion. But the Myſtery is, that ſuch a Barbarity ſhould have been permitted againſt the Son of God: This is to the Jews a ſtumbling-block, and to the Greeks Fooliſhneſs. And ſo a new Enquiry ariſes, if Jeſus Chriſt was the Perſon aim'd at in the Prophecies? To be ſatisfied about which, the Prophecies muſt be conſider'd, and the Old and New Teſtament compared together, and both theſe with the Doctrine [78] and the Works. In all ſuch things Reaſon may modeſtly exert itſelf, and we are guilty of ſloth if it be not exerted. But we muſt be in the dark about many things ſtill: So the Doctor ſubjoins;

‘"IN like manner, how little is it we underſtand concerning the Holy Ghoſt? That he deſcended like a Dove upon our Saviour: like cloven Tongues of Fire upon the Apoſtles—Theſe things we know as bare Matter of Fact, but the method of theſe Operations we do not at all underſtand. Who can tell us now, what that is which we call Inſpiration? What change is wrought in the Brain, and what in the Soul; and how the Effect follows?—Theſe Things we ſee darkly, and hope they will be ſet in a clearer light, and the Doctrines of our Religion more fully expounded to us in that future World, &c. *"’ This is an inſtance of great Honeſty in that ingenious Man, ſo frankly to confeſs his Ignorance, when far meaner Heads take upon them to explain the deepeſt Myſteries! As a ſtrange turn appears in others, who will not admit of the poſſibility of a thing, becauſe they cannot conceive how it is! Reaſon would at leaſt tell them thus much, that every thing is poſſible to the Almighty, which does not imply a Contradiction.

L.
[79]

IT muſt certainly be very ill ſervice done both to Religion and Society, to make an Oppoſition between Faith and Reaſon, as if they were two Contraries, like White and Black, or Fire and Water; whereas they ſeem to differ more in the degree than in the kind: the natural Light itſelf being from God, as well as the divine; there is one Glory of the Sun, and another Glory of the Moon. And then the ſame thing may be the Object of Faith and Reaſon both; for inſtance, the Fall of Adam: it is indeed reveal'd as a Fact that has happen'd, and is conſequently an Object of Faith: we do not hear that it occur'd to the Philoſophers, (tho' ſomething like it is imply'd in the opinion of the Pre-exiſtence of the Soul) and this Ignorance of the Fall made their Syſtems ſo imperfect and claſhing. But after getting a hint of that unfortunate Hiſtory, many Men are ſatisfied of the Truth of it by their natural Reaſon; as they are alſo of the Creation of the Heavens and the Earth. And this may be called a mixture of hiſtorical and rational Faith, but cannot be ſaid to come up to divine Faith, which carries along with it a more forcible Conviction, and may be reckon'd ſuch a thing as the * intellectual Senſation of the Platoniſts.

Ae
[80]

HOWEVER, the Faith of common Chriſtians is not to be deſpiſed. Our Saviour's Diſciples believed in him becauſe of the Miracles they ſaw him perform. This does not derogate from the Divine Operation upon their Hearts: but it was very natural for them to think, and reaſon with themſelves, that no Man could do ſuch Works if God was not with him. But he ſays himſelf upon another occaſion to St. Peter, that Fleſh and Blood had not revealed theſe things to him, &c.

L.

'TIS no better ſervice done Religion and Society, to put Faith and Works at variance together. There is a natural enough Agreement between the two, if the Scriptures were well conſidered: and they may be ſaid to be two things God has joined, and which therefore no man ought to ſeparate. St. James and St. Paul are in perfect harmony with one another; and with the reſt of the Apoſtles, upon this Subject. Faith without Works is dead: that is, without the Works of Charity. The Works St. Paul ſeems moſt to run down, in his diſputes with the Jews, are the Works of the Law, upon the Obſervance of which they valued themſelves to an exceſs; as they did alſo upon their Free-will, and natural Powers: which perhaps may be a Key to [81] ſome of the darkeſt of that Apoſtle's Writings. You may conſult Smith's Diſcourſes.

Ae

IT is remarkable that both the Partiſans of Faith and Infidelity have high Pretences to Reaſon, and each ſide accuſes the other of Pride and Lazineſs. 'Tis certainly as reaſonable to aſſent when the Proofs are clear; as to deny when they are not; and to be in ſuſpenſe when the Probabilities ſeem to be equal. But, I know not how, 'tis thought a prettier thing to contradict than to agree to RECEIV'D OPINIONS, and ſo 'tis natural for thoſe who ſet up to make a Figure in the World to fall into that way; as it is as natural too not to be at much pains to enquire into the Proofs and Preſumptions that are adduced: Excepting always out of the number of the Lazy ſome laborious old Unbelievers, who are as indefatigable as Miſſionaries.

L.

THERE is ſtill a worſe Quality in Man than the two former, which is Inſincerity: but as this Character is not level'd at any particular Perſon, it is ſo very baſe in it ſelf, that I ſhall not inſiſt any farther upon it.

Ae

WHAT is beſt and higheſt in Man, is certainly the moſt agreeable to be thought on. He has a Mind made for the ſearch after Truth, the Diſcovery of it, and the delighting [82] in it: and all this may be granted even to the natural Man. We have St. Paul's word for it, that the Gentiles who had not the Law, did by Nature the Things contain'd in the Law. But he tells us alſo, the natural Man knoweth not the Things of God, and even that they are fooliſhneſs to him. Upon which account the natural Man (if he would be a wiſe Man) ought to be very humble; and tho' he had come to all the Knowledge and Virtue of St. Paul himſelf, to follow his advice, to take care leſt he fall.

IN ſhort, as the natural Underſtanding, or the Mind, was conſidered by ſome Philoſophers both as the Diſcoverer of Truths, and the Director of the Affections, (and the Horſes will be confeſs'd to be very unruly) ſo the Spirit, in St. Paul's ſenſe, muſt be look'd upon as the Director of the Underſtanding it ſelf, and as it were a Deity within us: and thoſe Philoſophers even look'd on Man as a Temple where ſome Divine Genius reſided, and have almoſt made uſe of St. Paul's Expreſſions, grieve not the Spirit, &c.

L.

WHAT if this ſhould be called Enthuſiaſm, and a high Flight?

Ae

IF it ſhould, let St. Paul and the Philoſophers anſwer for it. It is indeed a high Flight, if Men can get into that true [83] Spirit to ſee things as they are, to put the eſtimate upon them they deſerve, to love them according to their dignity, and from the proper motives. This is truly a Flight, above Self-Love; and what Human Nature, as it is now fetter'd, cannot poſſibly attain unto, without ſuperiour aſſiſtance. But the bare Speculation of the thing is no more than one of thoſe Truths or Principles which natural Reaſon can be convinc'd of.

L.

BUT as to the Compariſon of Faith and Reaſon; when they are conſidered as two Lights of the Mind, the principal difference between them ſeems to be with relation to their Objects. The natural Man receiveth not the things of God. This natural Man is not denied by the Apoſtle to have the Faculty of Reaſon: but for all that, the things of God are fooliſhneſs to him; and he adds, neither can he know them, becauſe they are ſpiritually diſcerned. There muſt be another Faculty therefore in Man for knowing the Things of God, whatever Term be uſed to expreſs it; and ſo the Spirit of Man may be ſaid to receive intelligence from the Spirit of God, concerning ſuch things as his natural Underſtanding is not capable of.

I ſhould not indeed wiſh to add to the number of our Faculties: ſince it were the ſame thing, as to our Happineſs, whether we [84] had many or but one, if that one could perform all the Offices of the reſt. So if it be alledged that what is called Divine Illumination is nothing but the making new Diſcoveries to the old natural Underſtanding; I ſhould readily enough give up the Argument, if it were own'd that it was impoſſible for Man to make thoſe Diſcoveries himſelf: but then I know not what to make of thoſe expreſs words of St. Paul above mention'd, whoſe words the Clergy at leaſt will grant me are not to go for nothing.

BUT tho' Reaſon be confin'd to natural Knowledge, its province is ſtill very extenſive: it can examine ſeveral things concerning Revelation it ſelf; for inſtance, *whether a Propoſition ſaid to be divine (and which really may be ſo) is conſiſtent with what we know already of the Divine Nature: it can alſo ſearch into Records, and judge if they are authentick or ſpurious; here is large ſcope for exerciſing Reaſon, and for baffling it.

Ae.

THE ſearching into Records would ſeem the firſt thing to be done in point of [85] Order, tho' few have time for it: but Providence ſupplies the loſs to the Poor and the Well-intention'd.

L.

WHERE I ſaid it differ'd from Faith rather in the Degree than in the Kind, I meant not to make their difference conſiſt only in more and leſs, as one Man may have more Reaſon than another; but that they were both a kind of ſeeing, the one ſupernatural, the other not.

X. The MEMORY.

Ae.

THEY who make the Soul to conſiſt of three Powers (taking the Soul in the ſame ſenſe with the Mind, and in a direct oppoſition to the Body) have claſs'd this power of the Memory with the Underſtanding and the Will; tho' it does not come up to the Dignity of the other two. Every body complains of his Memory, but no body complains of his Judgment. A bad Will is the worſt of all.

L.

BESIDE the advantage of a good Memory, as it ſerves for making a figure in Converſation, it is ſtill valuable upon better Reaſons; ſince it may be made a Storehouſe of the moſt profitable and agreeable things. If it is for the moſt part but a Magazine [86] of Traſh, the Gift itſelf is ſtill to be eſteemed; and a Man has his own bad choice to blame, for making ſuch a Collection.

Ae

THE Memory is not only a Regiſter of Tales, and Names, and Fictions, (the Materials of common Diſcourſe) but may be called a Regiſter of every thing that enters into the Senſes and the Imagination. But what ſhall we think of this ſtrange Sieve, which lets ſome things paſs through, and retains others; and often retains the moſt unprofitable? To forget, is certainly among the Defects of our Nature: and yet, as things go, it were a kind of Happineſs to forget the moſt part of what we hear; and we ſhould be at no loſs to forget even ſeveral things that we read: tho' we may blame our ſelves more for what we read than what we hear, not having at all times the choice of our Company.

L.

INDEED I have often thought it a misfortune to have a Memory of ſuch a caſt, as not to be capable of forgetting any thing, not ſo much as the pooreſt Scandal; a Memory of that kind may very well be reckon'd an unhappy Memory.

Ae

BUT what ſhall we think of this odd Treaſury, which retains things during a certain time, and then loſes them, even before [87] the Infirmities of Age come on? We ſay a thing has dropt out of our head: (where does it drop?) and it drops in again when we leaſt expect it. What Corners do thoſe Images lurk in? and how do they caſt up? What portion of Matter, and of what figure, are they united to? and what Canals are they convey'd in? I hardly expect theſe Queſtions will be reſolved; and the propoſing them is only deſign'd to keep my ſelf in mind of our Ignorance, both of the Defects, and the remaining Excellencies of our Nature.

L.

THE Memory being conſider'd as a Regiſter of Things, whether perceived or imagined, theſe Things are uſually called Ideas; or, in plainer Engliſh, Images; and are accounted the Materials of Science: when they are exact, our Knowledge is exact, and not otherwiſe.

Ae

OUR Perception, or Reception of Ideas, even in the firſt inſtance, is but ſuperficial and defective; and when we recall them from our Memory, 'tis but a Picture form'd in abſence of the Original.

L.

As to the firſt Entry of Ideas into the Mind, you know Ariſtotle has been blamed for affirming that nothing is in the Underſtanding which was not before in the Senſes. But there ſeems to be no great danger [88] in that Opinion, if we do not limit the Senſes to too ſmall a number. You remember Mr. Locke's Account of their Entry?

Ae.

NOT well.

L.

'TIS to this purpoſe: ‘"The Senſes at firſt let in particular Ideas, and furniſh the yet empty Cabinet: and the Mind, by degrees growing familiar with ſome of them, they are lodg'd in the Memory, and Names got to them, &c."’

Ae.

Obſcurum per Obſcurius. The queſtion is, how this Familiarity ariſes? and how the Cabinet comes to be ſenſible of any thing that's put into it? A Scritore knows nothing of the Papers which the careful Banker locks up in it? Or a Glaſs, tho' it may be ſaid to receive the Image of a Beau, and he really ſees ſomewhat of himſelf in it; yet it can hardly be ſaid to ſee any thing of him. It would rather ſeem the Mind had ſome native Light of its own, which is awaken'd we know not how, and flies out, as it were, thro' the Senſes to the things it apprehends or lays hold on.

L.

THIS might be the Foundation of a Diſpute like that they ſay was in Holland, Whether the Bait catches the Fiſh, or the Fiſh catches the Bait. And truly moſt Diſputes are of that ſort—de Lana Caprina. [89] But one would think it might eaſily be granted that the Mind is of an inconceivable activity, and yet may be called paſſive, in its admittance or reception of what comes into it. Nor does it lay hold and take in at random, but has a diſtinguiſhing perception of one thing from another; to ſay nothing of a farther Power ſtill, of judging, accepting, and rejecting.

Ae.

THO' Ideas, or Images, would ſeem applicable only to the Senſe of Seeing; yet all the Senſes have their reſpective Ideas, or Notices, (if the laſt Word be liked better) ſo that one may be ſaid to have the Idea of a Sound, as well as of a Sight: and on hearing a Tune one had heard twenty Years before, one knows and remembers that 'tis the very ſame: and ſo of the reſt of the Senſes.

XI. SPEECH.

L.

MR. LOCKE was an ingenious Man.

Ae.

HE was really ſo. Pray what account does he give of Speech?

L.

I proteſt I don't know. But 'tis pity this Interpreter of the Thoughts ſhould not always interpret fairly, or that the Mind [90] and the Words ſhould not agree together. But the Gift is ſtill to be admired, and its uſes cannot be thought of without pleaſure.

To ſay nothing of the common Advantages of Speech in the Commerce of Life, how is the Mind inſtructed and calm'd by it! How ſweet are the Words of a Friend!

Ae.

EXCELLENT Gift ill uſed! The Concurrence of all the Organs, by which Speech is formed, with the Air that carries it, and gives it a ſort of Body, would be extraordinary ſurprizing, if the thing (being ſo common) were not quite overlook'd. You may ſee what Mr. Boerhaave has ſaid in his Inſtitutions we have ſo oft mentioned, where he alſo refers to * a curious little Treatiſe printed at Amſterdam in the Year 1700.

L.

THE Abuſes of Speech are but the natural Conſequences of an unhappy Diſpoſition; and the Tongue is blamed for the Vice of the Man. But the Tongue is only one of the Inſtruments of Speech, tho' a principal one; and may be compared to a Pump that brings up either clean Water or foul. Out of the abundance of the Heart the Mouth ſpeaketh.

Ae.

WORDS therefore may be called Thoughts in Vehicle. We find Ideas are [91] convey'd to the Ear by certain Sounds, and to the Eye by the more arbitrary Daſhes of a Pen or a Stamp. How Minds are agreed about the meaning of theſe Sounds and Strokes, is not eaſy to conceive, without having recourſe to the Inſtruction of Heaven in the firſt Parents. We ſee how it goes now by Imitation: the Organs of Speech are form'd in Children by degrees inſenſibly; and their Minds ripen the ſame way, to find out the meaning of what is ſaid to them. But it is not conceiveable how any number of old People meeting together, who had not learn'd to ſpeak in their Infancy, ſhould be able to contrive any Language at all: it would be nothing but Cries, and Signs, and Confuſion. For, admitting that the ſtrongeſt, and the loudeſt Perſon ſhould force the reſt to call a thing by the ſame Name he took in his head to expreſs it by, what ſhould become of all the intermediate Parts of Speech neceſſary to connect thoſe arbitrary Terms together? The Invention will appear impracticable on a very little reflection.

L.

I had a little diſpute on this head with a Friend, who thought a Language might be artificially contriv'd: but as we could not convince one another, nor were at much pains about it, we agreed that it might be left as a moot Point.

Ae.
[92]

THE uſe of Letters is alſo reckon'd by many, to have been taught Mankind from Heaven. For, altho'Figures and Shapes (like the Egyptian Hieroglyphicks) might have been fallen upon to expreſs ſome Precepts and Inſtructions, yet this could give no notion of Letters, which are rather the Marks and Figures of Sounds than of Things: and here is a great Conveniency, that ſo few of them are needed; ſo that from the various Combination of this ſmall number of Characters, or Letters, ariſes the infinite number of Words that make up the different Languages; and more new Languages might ariſe without end.

L.

THOSE Characters are a happy Invention for conveying Thoughts from one end of the Earth to the other. Thus we are informed of the Welfare of a Friend in the Indies! and thus we are inſtructed, as well as delighted! 'Tis needleſs to enter into the Abuſes of Writing and Printing, ſo often made the Conveyances of Error and Deceit, they proceed (like the Abuſes of Speech) from a bad Heart; but the Faculties and Inventions are ſtill to be valued and admired.

XII. A REVIEW of the foregoing ARTICLES.

[93]
Ae.

FROM what we have obſerv'd of Man, Body and Soul and all his Faculties, it will eaſily be perceiv'd that of himſelf he is a mere Void, and all that is in him precarious and dependent.

To apply this to the Body: as it is faſhioned we know not how, ſo it muſt have Life infuſed into it, to put it out of the Condition of ſo much dead weight, an unactive Lump of Matter. And as Life can be call'd nothing but the inconceivable Knot that holds Body and Soul together, ſo neither can Death be called any thing but the Diſſolution of that Union; 'tis but a Ceſſation of Life, or the retiring of the Soul, which is often in great concern and horrour to think of being driven out of its Lodging.

Animula vagula Blandula, &c.

L.

POOR Adrian! what did his Empire ſignify then?

Ae.

As the Body is ſo dependent upon the Soul for its ſhort duration and exiſtence [94] in this World, the Soul is no leſs dependent upon the ſupreme Being for all its Operations and Enjoyments both here and hereafter. David ſays upon good ground, He holdeth our Souls in Life. For tho' Immortality is natural to the Soul made after the Image of God, yet it may be conceiv'd capable of extreme anguiſh without Objects to nouriſh and delight it; ſo that a ſtate of that kind were rather to be called Death than Life, and is ſo called in ſacred Writ.

L.

NOT only are the Objects of our Faculties to be reckon'd Gifts from our Creator, but the Faculties themſelves are Gifts. We ſee ſome of them taken away, or loſt we know not how, both the external Operations, and the internal: and ſuppoſing them to be ever ſo durable, Man is ſtill but a Void, and ſo cannot be the Object of his own Love. Love always ſuppoſes an Union with, or a deſire after ſome other thing than the Subject that loves; ſo that, Self-Love would be found an Impropriety, if one had a mind to quarrel with common Expreſſions. For what is it that a Man calls Self, or Himſelf, but a Creature endued with certain Appetites, Deſires, Qualities, or whatever they may be called? And what can he make of himſelf, without Objects adapted and proportion'd to his Wants? Again, what can he owe to himſelf farther than Care and Benevolence, which every animated Creature, [95] in ſome meaſure, has a ſhare of; and in which there is nothing to be blamed or praiſed? If it be ſaid, a Man owes himſelf Reſpect; this is not as he is ſuch a particular Perſon, but as he is one of the Human Species: and he had beſt take care not to think too often of his particular Qualifications, leſt they appear to him greater than they do to others, and make him alſo overlook his Defects.

Ae.

WITHOUT all queſtion Love is moſt eminently due to God, or He is to be loved with our whole Heart, Strength, and Mind. And this is even reaſonable on our own account (no other Object being able to ſatisfy our infinite Deſires) as well as juſt, with regard to Him. Inferiour rational Objects are only to be loved with a Love that may be called Relative, or ſubordinate, as we have often agreed on, by which Juſtice and Order are not violated.

L.

WE only condemn'd Self-love, where Self is made the Center: and what is thus condemn'd is properly Self-intereſt. Whatever is loved from that Principle, is not loved according to Juſtice. For the preferring greater Delight to leſſer, and endleſs Joys to tranſient, would indeed argue good Judgment; but where is the Righteouſneſs of it, and the Piety? It is but Wiſdom for a Man's Self; which Sir F. Bacon calls a left-handed [96] Wiſdom. But Love makes no Bargains, and has no Limitations. Moſes was willing to be blotted out of the Book of Life; and St. Paul to be an Anathema for his Brethren: it were ſtrange, after two ſuch Inſtances, to deny a diſintereſted Love to the Saviour of the World; or to draw Inferences from a falſe Reading of a Text of Scripture, as if the Love of his Father, and even of Mankind, was not the prevailing Motive when he made the choice of enduring the Croſs, and deſpiſing the Shame. Nor is it any Argument againſt the Purity and the Force of Love, that in a Competition of eternal and temporal Delights (as in the caſe of Moſes, with the Delights of Egypt) the preference is given to the eternal; ſince the Clearneſs of the Underſtanding cannot be ſuppoſed to exclude the Love and Obedience of the Heart.

Ae.

THE Dignity of Man appears conſpicuouſly in the Power of Loving, and in the Object that can only ſatisfy his Love: if it center'd in himſelf, it would be wretchedly directed, and no acquieſcence could enſue. The lower Appetites are ſatisfied for a time: the Belly being full, demands no more till the Digeſtion is over, and the Fibres of the Stomach irritated anew. It is not ſo with the Eye and the Ear, as Solomon informs us; nor with the Mind neither, for it muſt be conſtantly amuſed with new Diſcoveries and [97] Tales: there is a Fund of Curioſity in Man, or a Deſire of knowing, which muſt be ſatisfied one way or other; ſo that Knowledge may be called the Food of the Underſtanding.

L.

NATURAL Affection, Love, and Friendſhip are ſatisfied by the Solaces and Endearments proper to the Soul and Body; and were it not for the ſelfiſh Principle, many of our Satisfactions would be much greater than they are. 'Tis true, the broken State of things makes all our Enjoyments very uncertain, and we often find our ſelves unexpectedly bereaved and deſolate. But if the higheſt Faculty in Man were exerted, or, which is much the ſame, if his Love were principally directed to the higheſt Object, perfect Satisfaction would readily follow; at leaſt Man would be in the State of Order, and where he ſhould be: if divine Conſolations were denied or ſuſpended, it would be but for a while, and the reſign'd Soul would have Contentment in the Divine Will, whatever Deſertion or Pain it might ſuffer. The bearing our natural Afflictions is recommended upon the ſame Principle.

IT muſt be own'd, this State of Mind, in which God is loved for himſelf, is not at preſent natural, like our other deſires: we naturally love created things, or deſire them for our Convenience; but the Love of the Creator may be call'd a ſtranger to us: it [98] cannot dwell with Self-Love, for either the one or the other muſt give place.

Ae.

MOST certainly. Mean time in this Review of Man, the Diſtinction of Body, Soul, and Spirit, may ſtill be had recourſe to; or the Senſes, the Affections, and the Underſtanding. This laſt is called the governing Part by Antoninus, who makes little account of the inferiour Powers, as being in common with the Beaſts. He makes a kind of Diffection of ſome Pleaſures (perhaps a little too far) and ſpeaks of them with diſparagement. But every Senſation, as well as every Motion of the Soul, is ſurprizing to think of. Even Smelling, which is counted the moſt frivolous of all the Senſes, is of more uſe than we can imagine; and in fact we ſee it can raiſe the Spirits as it were by Magick.

L.

'Tis generally in favour of the Senſes that the Paſſions are exerted; theſe are alarm'd and riſe in arms, when our Pleaſures are in danger. It belongs to the Underſtanding to regulate the Paſſions or Affections; or, in other words, to keep the Pleaſures in order: for it cannot alter our Senſations or Feelings. And if it be ſaid that the Underſtanding, which is but paſſive it ſelf, like the bodily Eye, cannot be called the Leader of the reſt of the Faculties; it muſt be granted, that (ſtrictly ſpeaking) it [99] is rather the Light than the Guide: for if we conſider it in the *three Operations mention'd by the Logicians, 'tis ſtill but one Light operating in three different manners. The governing Power therefore muſt be ſomething of Life, Force, and Activity, which ſets all the other Faculties at work; and tho' the Will is a more vital Principle than the Underſtanding and the Memory, the Spirit may be conſider'd as ſomewhat ſuperiour to the Will it ſelf, ſince the ſame Perſon may have a very different Will at different times. Sometimes the Will is manageable, ſometimes obſtinate; a Man will not ſo much as hearken: What is it that makes him reflect and yield? Sometimes the Perſuaſion is addreſs'd to the Underſtanding, ſometimes to the Heart; and Intreaty commonly prevails more than Reaſoning. The Memory is only applied to as a Regiſter.

Ae.

SHALL we ſay then, that there is a firſt Mover within us, a Mind, Rector, or preſiding Faculty over the reſt? Indeed we may be indifferent what is concluded in ſuch Speculations, for it will not alter the ſtate of the things. People frequently do ſpeak of ſuch a leading Principle, and of a Spirit in Man: and then this Spirit is as frequently denominated, or receives its Character, from any Quality that appears moſt prevailing, not only with regard to the moral [100] Diſpoſitions, but even the Complexion, Temper, Genius, and whatever is moſt obſervable in the Perſon: thus we ſay, a proud Spirit, a violent Spirit, an active Spirit, and many other kinds of Spirits (ſome better, ſome worſe) that are to be met with in the world.

L.

To aſſert the Superiority of the Human Spirit (or if it ſhall only be called the Human Nature) above that of other Animals upon this earth, has been the endeavour of many Perſons, who (I cannot but think) have made their Syſtem more coherent than thoſe who have endeavour'd to put Men and Beaſts upon a level. Some of this laſt Party indeed acknowledge the advantage that Mankind have from the Frame of the Body and its Organs, which they pretend makes all the difference. But what Texture of the Brain is ſufficient to perform all the various Operations they aſſign to it, Senſation, Reflection, Wiſhing, Loving, Hating? Of what figure are the Cells for Poetry, and thoſe for Mathematicks? And what Lodgings of the Brain are Honeſty and Knavery to be found in?

Ae.

WHATEVER Senſations and Powers inferiour Creatures may be endued with, the bodily Organs are but the Inſtruments of their Operations; and it muſt be ſomething even within them, that ſets thoſe Engines [101] a going. The Bee and the Elephant have little reſemblance of each other in their outward figure, and there may be ſuppoſed as little in the Texture of their Brain: but each performs very remarkable things; for which there had need to be recourſe to ſome inward Principle actuating their different Machines.

L.

THE ſame Concluſion holds as to Man: whatever is perform'd in him, bateing ſome Actions called Vital, ſuch as thoſe of the Heart and other inward Parts, is properly the Action of the Soul upon the Body, and the Change is firſt made within; the Soul is touched before the Blood fluſhes out in the Face, to proclaim either Baſhfulneſs or Anger: and the Notion of a Contact, and reciprocal Action betwixt the Soul and the Body, is but a way of ſpeaking; for if it were ſtrictly true, the Soul would depend as much on the Body, as the Body does upon it; or rather, all would be reduced to Body, according to Lucretius:

Tangere enim & tangi ſine corpore nulla poteſt res.

The truer Philoſophy ſeems to be * tangitur Corpus, ſentit Anima.

[102] 'TIS pretty evident the Soul moves the Body, as the Hand moves the Glove; but that the Body moves the Soul, is not evident. If they ſay Muſick ſtrikes the Soul, and raiſes different Paſſions, and Muſick is Sound, and Sound is Body; and therefore, &c. it may be granted that bare Senſation is excited by the means of bodily things, as all Sounds make impreſſion upon the Hearing: but in Muſick you know all Ears are not equally affected, ſome People only hearing the bare Sound, without being ſenſible of the Harmony, and ſo are ſaid to have no Ear. Much leſs is it mere Sound that raiſes any Paſſion in us, but ſome other thing that we have no name for; as it is not mere Words that touch the Heart, even in friendly Expreſſions, but the Perſuaſion we have of ſome Friendſhip deſign'd by them, common Compliments affecting us but little.

BUT in all this, they'll ſay, the Superiority of Man does not appear, the Beaſts having Senſations and Paſſions as well as He: a Dog or a Horſe is ſenſible of a kind Word and a gentle Stroak.

Ae.

THAT is very true; but 'tis ſeldom affirm'd that Dogs and Horſes have as high a Senſe of Friendſhip as Mankind. If any were really of that opinion, we ſhould eaſily know what eſtimate to put upon their Friendſhip.

L.
[103]

THAT which is call'd moral Senſe, implies both a Tenderneſs of Affection, and a Reliſh of Juſtice; or Benevolence and Honeſty. And 'tis remarkable that this Tenderneſs, or Benevolence it ſelf, muſt be regulated by Juſtice, as appears in that Precept, Not to reſpect the Perſon of the Poor: for in a Claim of two Perſons, the one in great Poverty, the other flowing in Riches, there would be a natural Byaſs in the poor Man's favour; which would alſo be increaſed, if he were found to be the honeſter Man: and yet both theſe Conſiderations muſt be over-ruled, and Right take place. The ſame Rule, every body grants, ſhould be followed if a Man were one of the Parties himſelf, where the benevolent Byaſs may yet be ſuppos'd ſtronger: but becauſe of this Byaſs, neutral Judges are apply'd to, tho' it has ſometimes happen'd that mutual References have been made by each Party to the other, and both Intereſts equally ſafe.

Ae.

THIS ſhews there is ſuch a thing as Diſintereſtedneſs, and it ſeems to be the higheſt Quality in Man: an honeſt Heart implies a great deal. Nor is there any weight in the Objection, that this Honeſty is only from Conſiderations of the next World: for ſuch an Inclination to Juſtice may be found, where the Belief of another World is not [104] very ſtrong. And if the peeviſh Objection be puſh'd farther, that 'tis for the ſake of a Character in this World; this is nothing but an Aſſertion without proof, and the contrary may be aſſerted with more probability. Every one muſt judge for himſelf.

L.

WHAT is moſt valuable in Man, is certainly his kind Affections and his Senſe of Equity: He has even inferiour Faculties, which alſo diſtinguiſh him from other Animals. I wiſh every body may make the beſt uſe of their Faculties that they can; and that it may be remember'd they are all but Gifts, as well as the Objects of them; that Man conſequently is but a mere Void, and muſt be miſerable if he hath not Objects to ſatisfy him; that, in the placing his Eſteem and his Affection, the Giver is to be conſider'd above all Gifts; Theſe, and many other Truths would naturally preſent themſelves to the Mind, if it were compoſed and free of diſtraction.

Ae.

'TIS ſtrange, that ſo natural Reflections come ſo ſeldom into the Mind. They muſt certainly be very obvious, becauſe the very mentioning them is often tedious and ſhocking.

L.

THERE are other Reaſons for that. You know People have their Heads taken up for the moſt part with their Buſineſs or their [105] Amuſement: and then they don't love it ſhould be thought they wanted Inſtruction.

Ae.

THEY ſhall never be inſtructed by me.

L.

NOR by me: but there is no reaſon why two Friends may not talk together of whatever they pleaſe.

Ae.

I know none.

PART II. A SHORT ACCOUNT OF THE WORLD.

[106]

I. The WORLD taken in different Senſes.

Aemilius and Lucinus.
Ae

SOMETIMES by the World is meant the whole Creation, viſible and inviſible; 'tis alſo called the Univerſe. Sometimes there is a diſtinction of the Natural World, and the Moral; and among ſome Perſons we find much Talk of the Polite World.

[107] THE Natural World is juſtly acknowledged to be a beautiful and harmonious Syſtem, as implied in the *very Names of it. We are obliged to the Aſtronomers for the Accounts they have given of the Motions and Order of the Planets, and to the Natural Philoſophers for their Diſcoveries of the Productions of this Earth: but a great deal of Beauty lies open to the Eye of the ſimpleſt Beholder. The Sun and the Fields are delightful to the Farmer, as well as the Philoſopher. Every Animal and every Vegetable have their Beauties, both to conſider them in whole, and in the parts that make them up; a Leaf of the meaneſt Plant is a Demonſtration of an infinite Wiſdom.

L.

THIS Earth of ours is but a ſmall Part of the World, notwithſtanding all the Diſputes about it, and often about very uſeleſs Parcels of it. Dr. Burnet ſpeaks of the whole Globe as meanly as if it were a Turnip: the Great-ones (ſays he) ſlice it among them. He ſhews alſo the Ruins and broken State of it ſince the Flood; to which another excellent Theoriſt aſcribes the ſame Ruins. This latter Author reckons it has ſuffer'd more by the Fall, than the [108] former takes notice of. And not only has the Earth ſuffer'd in its Make and Luſtre, but all the Creatures upon it are ſaid to groan*.

Ae.

There are, however, great Excellencies and Beauty remaining in this lower World; and no Deformity can be found, except in the Manners of Men.

'TIS this Moral World therefore we are chiefly to conſider, in order to diſcover our Duty, to ſhun what we ought to ſhun, and follow what we ought to follow. I call it the Moral World (tho' there is little Morality in it) only to ſhew that it is with reference to Mens Manners or Actions, that inſpired Writers exhort us not to be conformed to the World; giving us this good reaſon, that all that is in the World is the Luſt of the Eye, &c. They exhort us, 'tis true, not to love the World, meaning the Love of the Creatures, as well as the Love of the Faſhion; becauſe it is not in their Nature to ſuffice our Hearts; and they contribute to nouriſh in us that Principle of Self-Love, by which we covet every thing without Juſtice and common Senſe.

II. The WORLD divided into two Cities.

[109]
L.

TIS a fine Paſſage of St. Auguſtine, * Two Loves have made two Cities; Self-Love makes the City of the World, which is alſo called Babylon, even to the Contempt of God: The Love of God, which is called Jeruſalem, makes the City of God, to the Contempt of Self. He has been very happy in this Thought, as in many others; for it lets us into the Cauſes both of Strife and Concord in this World, and ſhews the Foundation of Miſery and Happineſs in the next, as we cultivate the one or the other of thoſe two Loves or Principles.

Ae.

SELF-LOVE will be readily acknowledged to be the cauſe of Strife and Confuſion in the World, if we conſider it but in the leaſt impetuous of its Streams, Senſuality. But what is meant by Senſuality? and why is it leſs impetuous than Pride and Covetouſneſs? Senſuality may indeed include the Pleaſures of all the Senſes; and ſo the Luſt of the Eye may be Senſuality, as well as the Luſt of the Fleſh: and the Fleſh is often taken for all the Deſires of the natural Man, and put in oppoſition to the Spirit. But 'tis probable that by the Luſt of the Fleſh St. John means what is generally [110] underſtood by Voluptuouſneſs in Eating and Drinking, and all Pleaſure and Indulgence of the Body, abſtractly from Elegance and Parade, which are properly the purſuit of the Eye, and are peculiar to the Human Kind, as well as Pride; the Beaſts contenting themſelves with plain Senſualities.

COVETOUSNESS ſuppoſes both a deſire of fine things, and a ſuperfluous abundance of them; Pride a deſire of Diſtinction and Superiority.

SENSUALITY alone, without ſuppoſing Covetouſneſs and Pride in company with it, is look'd upon as an inoffenſive thing; and if a Man falls into Intemperance of any kind, all the harm is ſaid to be done to himſelf.

L.

BUT it rarely happens that Senſuality is free of the other two Vices. Our Fancy ſuggeſts to us imaginary Wants; and alſo makes us think Nature is not ſo eaſily contented as we find upon Experience it is. Thus we covet things both as to Quality and Quantity: and then our Pride, which is ſeldom aſleep, wants to have Witneſſes of our Magnificence, and of our elegant Taſte. 'Tis ſaid Luxury wants many things, and Covetouſneſs all things; but Pride is certainly the moſt inſatiable of the three.

Ae.
[111]

WHAT is condemn'd under the name of Senſuality, is not the Senſation of Pleaſure, for there is no Crime in Feeling; but in the exorbitant Deſire of Pleaſure, and the Exceſs of the Indulgence, by which the Mind is indiſpoſed for other Attainments. Antoninus allows Man to indulge his Nature as he is an Animal, but with this caution, that it make not his Nature worſe, as he is an Animal endow'd with Reaſon and deſign'd for Virtue.

IN this View, the harſh Idea of Self-denial would be ſoftened, as contributing to our higher Intereſts, tho' its proper and ſolid Foundation is only upon Juſtice.

L.

BUT why did you call Senſuality leſs impetuous than the two other Streams of Self-Love?

Ae.

BECAUSE we ſee theſe make more miſchief and deſolation in the World. Particular Perſons are indeed carried away by certain Pleaſures, but the general Competition is for Riches and Honour. Wars are now ſeldom made for a Miſtreſs; and even few Duels are fought in that Quarrel.

L.

VERY true, luxurious People may agree together better than the Covetous can be ſuppoſed to do. For the natural Effect [112] of Covetouſneſs is to diſunite and alienate Men from one another; every Individual aiming at nothing leſs than to engroſs what belongs to the whole Society. Such Men, ſays the Prophet, would add Field to Field, till there be no place; that they themſelves may be placed alone in the midſt of the Earth. The covetous Man would leave the World to ſtarve, whereas the Luxurious, tho' without deſigning it, is an Inſtrument in the hand of Providence for ſupporting many, who would otherwiſe be deſtitute; and ſo Luxury in ſome manner ſupplies the place of Charity. Indeed the Luxurious cannot be acquitted of Injuſtice; for it is not Fair-dealing that one Man ſhould drink as much Wine, or any other Liquor, as would cheriſh the Hearts of twenty; and that the Expence of adorning his ſingle Perſon, might keep a greater number from going naked.

Ae.

OF all the three Branches of Self-Love, Covetouſneſs has ſomething in it ſo peculiarly graſping and appropriating, that a covetous and a ſelfiſh Perſon are almoſt convertible Terms. What is moſt remarkable, is, that this graſping ſelfiſh Temper ſometimes produces a ſort of illegitimate Self-denial, and renders the poor Miſer hard-hearted and uncompaſſionate to himſelf. You know how Mr. . . . . . lives.

L.
[113]

THERE have been Inſtances of this Diſeaſe of the Mind in all Ages, ingenious Men have exerciſed their Wit upon it long ago; but ſuch Diſeaſes ſeldom yield either to Raillery or Argument.

Ae.

IN this caſe Money is the Object of the Love, not becauſe it anſwereth all things, but becauſe it is Money; and ſo this Love of Money can hardly be reduced to Self-Love, becauſe the Deſire ſeems wholly to terminate upon the Metal.

L.

IT muſt be granted, however, that Covetouſneſs is for the moſt part attended with Luxury and Pride, or it may be ſaid as properly to attend upon them; for 'tis very natural for the Profuſe and the Ambitious to deſire much Money, and to take many ways of getting it. *Thoſe Extremes in Catiline's Character are often united. Prodigality makes ſome Atonement for Covetouſneſs in the World: but when this laſt Vice is predominant, 'tis the moſt contemn'd of any, and is indeed the leaſt reſtrain'd by Shame, and creeps the loweſt.

Ae.

BUT at the ſame time that the Love of Money is deſpiſed, the Poſſeſſion of it generally draws Reſpect. Saluſt was ſenſible of this in one of his Diſcourſes to [114] Caeſar, where he propoſes, as a great ſtop to Reformation in the Commonwealth, to take away the Reſpect given to Money, pecuniae Decus; concluding *"that the paying ſuch Honour to it, proves the contempt of all Virtues."’ But how to bring about that point of Reformation, is not eaſy to conceive.

L.

NOT eaſy indeed. The ſhorteſt way to Wealth would be plain Stealing and Robbing: but theſe being too hazardous, cunning people have recourſe to the ſafer Arts of Tricking and Deceit: and hence all thoſe Infidelities in Truſts and Contracts, thoſe Diſappointments in Trade and Politicks; and ſometimes this Love of Money produces Diſappointments yet more delicate and vexatious.

Ae.

IS not Pride the third branch or ſtream of Self-Love, the moſt raging and impetuous of all?

L.

NO doubt: it makes Cities and Kingdoms deſolate, and the Earth a Field of Blood.

Ae.

THIS Spirit alſo diſcovers it ſelf moſt univerſally. Mr. Paſcal ſays, ‘"Vanity [115] has taken ſo firm a hold on the Heart of Man, that a Porter or a Turnſpit can talk big of himſelf, and is for having his Admirers: Philoſophers do but refine upon the ſame Ambition."’

WE ſee therefore that Pride, which may be called the eldeſt Daughter of Self-Love, has ſtill a more ample dominion than either Covetouſneſs or Senſuality: it enters into the privateſt Houſes, it breaks the cloſeſt Tyes: Covetouſneſs divides Friends, but Pride divides nearer Friends.

L.

THE difference between Pride and Vanity is ſeen in the different appearances of Men; and ſometimes by their appearances we may know what they have moſt at heart. A Man that delights in fine Clothes, ſhews them upon his back: ſo that Vanity conſiſts in outward Shew and Oſtentation in general, and a Man's Vanity appears in the finery of his Servants, and all his Parade without doors and within. Pride is a ſturdier kind of thing, and lies deeper in the Heart: thus, ſays the Duke of Rochefoucault, ‘"Pride always ſaves its intereſt, even when it renounces Vanity."’

Ae.

SOMETIMES Pride aims at dominion over others, ſometimes barely at their applauſe; and 'tis ſtrange to ſee what ſome people will endure for this light thing. [116] Self-Love, or rather Pride, is ſaid to live upon nothing, and to find its account in Auſterities and voluntary Mortifications, from that deſire of applauſe; tho' Pride ſeldom takes that way of ſhewing itſelf in this Iſland.

INDEED the exceſſive deſire of Eſteem, without doing ſomething for it, argues ſmall experience of the World; for it is ſeldom ſo good-natur'd as to give praiſe for doing nothing.

L.

THE deſire of Eſteem, and the fancy that we are eſteem'd, are very different things: the former may be without the latter, but the latter is never without the former.

Ae.

AS the fancy that we are eſteem'd when we are not, ariſes from Self-conceit, ſo the ſame turn of Mind makes us eager to ſhew our ſelves upon all occaſions: we run into every company, and affect to ſhine in every converſation. But ſometimes we think to ſhew our ſelves more ſuperior by a profound ſilence, and then we are the proudeſt.

L.

YOU are a little ſevere. But whatever way our Pride diſcovers it ſelf to others, it muſt be a torture to the ſoul that's poſſeſt with it, and an Inlet to many diſturbances, [117] of which it may be called the Parent. The proud Man is the apteſt to fall into Jealouſy, which he would have to be thought a juſt concern for a delicate part of his Property; not perceiving that it is rather Pride than either Juſtice or Love that tortures him. Could Jealouſy be ſtript of Pride, it would neither be ſo racking nor ſo ugly.

Ae.

BUT what do you think of Envy?

L.

'TIS a more ſhameful Ulcer of the Soul than Jealouſy, and more viſibly the effect of Pride; and the more unaccountable, that it grieves at the good of another, when we our ſelves loſe nothing by it. This, 'tis true, is the Idea of pure Envy; but generally there is in it a mixture of other Paſſions, which render it ſomewhat more excuſable, ſuch as Anger or Grief ariſing from competition or diſappointment: however, there is nothing a man labours more to conceal, than that he has any Envy at all.

Ae.

I believe we are at no leſs pains to conceal our Hypocriſy, tho' it is a more voluntary thing, and all over art and deſign rather than infirmity; and having a more extenſive view than Envy, it runs more through our whole Life and Actions.

L.
[118]

WE are got into a ſad Field.

Ae.

THERE are other effects of Pride more undiſputed, to wit, Hatred and Revenge; the Pulpit declares againſt theſe: and the Stage, tho' it does not always ſpeak ſo diſhonourably of them as they deſerve, yet it ſhews many of their bad conſequences. Nor does the Stage fail to expoſe ill humour, not ſo much indeed becauſe it is the effect of Pride, as upon account of the Ridicule that is found in it: Vanity is alſo expoſed upon the ſame account. And this ſhews us another part of our Conſtitution called Shame, which ſome reſolve wholly into Pride: but there is a Right and a Wrong in every thing. We ſee from * fine Spirits of old, the diſtinction betwixt two kinds of Shame and Honour, which ſome Moderns ſtruggle hard to get free of, and take help from ſome old Hands. And they forget another diſtinction, betwixt the ſenſe of Shame and the exceſſive fear of being ridicul'd. We ſee how People are laugh'd out of their Virtue, and ſometimes out of their Life: they drink for fear of being thought abſtemious, and they fight for fear their Courage ſhould be called in queſtion; as my Lord Rocheſter honeſtly acknowledges.

L.
[119]

THIS puts me in mind of a contrary Suppoſition of the Characteriſticks, which does not ſhew ſo much knowledge of the World. ‘"I can very well ſuppoſe (ſays that * Author) "Men may be frighted out of their wits: but I have no apprehenſion they ſhould be laugh'd out of them. I can hardly imagine that in a pleaſant way they ſhould ever be talked out of their Love for Society, or reaſon'd out of Humanity and common Senſe."’ Now an appeal may be made to the World, if the reverſe of this be true. Indeed Men cannot well be ſaid to be reaſon'd out of Humanity and common Senſe, but they are certainly talk'd and laugh'd out of both. We have a more natural account from Quevedo, where (ſpeaking of thoſe in the righthand way) he ſays, ‘"ſome of them ſtopt their ears and went on without minding our Raillery: others we put out of countenance, and they came over to us."’

Ae.

'TIS certainly the fear of being put out of countenance, and ſuffering confuſion, that keeps Mankind (eſpecially thoſe who affect moſt Politeneſs) in ſuch a ſubjection to one another, notwithſtanding their contempt of one another. This is the foundation of many troubleſome Modes and [120] Points of Decency, invented by no body knows who, and yet obſerv'd with a rigorous exactneſs.

L.

'TIS indeed very remarkable that many who ſet up for an univerſal Independency and Exemption from all Rules, ſhould be govern'd at ſo eaſy a rate.

Ae.

IT tends much to preſerve ſome Quiet and good Order in the World: and 'tis really a ſatisfaction to obſerve, that vain extravagant Man is ſo eaſily govern'd, that a Straw is ſufficient to bind him.

L.

A little Experience of the World, and careful obſervation of what paſſes within our ſelves (where indeed we ſhould properly begin) join'd to the information of ſome of the beſt Books and the beſt Company, will let us ſee what the World is, and how we ought to behave in it.

III. The Mixt STATE of Things.

Ae.

HAD not the Doctrine of the Fall ſome footing among the Heathens?

L.

IT had: but not being ſo thoroughly receiv'd and underſtood by them, the accounts [121] that many of them gave of the World and of Human Nature were ſo much the more defective. Some who have enquired into the ſentiments of remoteſt Antiquity, inform us there was a pretty general belief of a former State, wherein Juſtice and Innocence prevail'd, which they call'd the golden Age, without any diſorder in the Elements; perfect Health and perpetual Spring. They ſpoke alſo of a Revolt, which reduc'd things into the preſent confuſion and weakneſs; and that all would be renewed and brought again into the primitive Beauty and Perfection.

A few indeed among the Ancients did argue for the preſent State of things, as if it were the beſt State they could poſſibly be in; and ſo they concluded ‘"there was no Evil nor Defect in the Univerſe, but that every thing contributed to the perfection of the Whole."’

Ae.

THE laſt part of the Concluſion may be true in ſome ſenſe. But what could they make of Sickneſs and Death? 'tis hardly natural to ſay they are things indifferent, much leſs that they are really good. Every body knows this Doctrine of Fatality landed in Atheiſm, and how Spinoza improv'd the Notion of the Univerſe to exclude the Maker and Governour of it; a deſign Antoninus is never ſuſpected of. The Characteriſticks, [122] who have taken much of their Scheme from that Emperor, are at great pains to perſuade the World that 'tis they who do the greateſt juſtice to God in baniſhing Evil from the Creation; affirming, ‘"that to ſuppoſe it to have enter'd into his Works, the Government of the World is arraign'd and the Deity made void."’

L.

IT muſt be left to the publick Judgment, who are the beſt Apologiſts for the Deity (if any Apologies are needed) they who ſpeak in the common way, and acknowledge there is Evil both Natural and Moral; or they who acknowledge neither? If the inference were certain, to wit, that there is no God if there be any Evil, the laſt part of the Propoſition wou'd be contradicted by few. And truly the Arguers againſt Evil expoſe themſelves much to the ſcorn of another Set of People, who are as adverſe to reveal'd Religion as they themſelves can be. There is one thing remarkable, the old Stoicks did not deny there was ſuch a thing as Pain, but only maintain'd that Pain was no Evil: ſo if their Followers ſay no further, the diſpute is only about Words.

Ae.

WE are told by Moſes that moral Evil enter'd firſt: Man abuſed his Liberty, and fell into Diſobedience. The fault is ſpecified. Whatever Allegory may [123] be in that Hiſtory, there muſt be Truth alſo in the Letter. Now the outward State of Man being ſtill to be ſuited to the inward, his Body to his Spirit; this Spirit is condemn'd to inhabit a frail, heavy Body, very unlike to what it ſeems to have been in the firſt State, and ſtript of ſeveral advantages which the Bodies of many Animals have at preſent. Moreover, the Earth is ſaid to have been curſed, by which a conſiderable change may be ſuppoſed in its Beauty as well as its Fertility; but this alteration is alſo wiſely adapted to the condition of Man now become mortal and proud, who muſt work hard both for his Life and his Humiliation.

L.

ST. Auguſtin has preſerv'd to us a paſſage of * Cicero, which ſhews at leaſt the preſent State of Man in lively colours: 'tis to this purpoſe, ‘"that Nature has brought Man into the World rather as a Stepmother than a Mother, his Body naked, frail, and infirm; his Mind anxious, timorous, and ſoft; prone to Luſts: but that nevertheleſs there is a divine Fire of Genius and Spirit, tho' in a manner buried."’ [124]After which Quotation he adds, ‘"Cicero ſaw the thing, but knew not the cauſe; for he was ignorant why the heavy Yoke was laid on the Children of Adam."’ The ſame Father had ſaid in his Confeſſions, which ſome reckon the moſt uſeful of all his Works*, ‘"that Man carries his Mortality about with him as a Teſtimony that God reſiſteth the Proud."’

Ae.

THE beſt Authors are far from beſtowing flattery upon Man. You know what Dr. Burnet ſays in particular.

L.

I remember ſome of his words. But as to this heavy infirm Machine of a Body, tho' it is very ſoon to be void of all Senſation, and reduc'd to a State of great Diſgrace, yet St. Paul informs us it is raiſed in Honour; and in another place he ſays, Jeſus Chriſt ſhall change our vile Body, that it may be faſhion'd like unto his glorious Body.

Ae.
[125]

As we are inform'd that Man's Pride brought ſuch diſgrace upon him, ſo we are inform'd by the ſame ſacred Hiſtory (tho' in few words) that he was tempted and ſeduced by a Spirit of more cunning. 'Tis much eaſier therefore to account for the Sin of Adam, than for that which happen'd firſt. Only St. Jude ſpeaks of the Angels who kept not their firſt ſtation, and a Prophet mentions Lucifer's affecting an equality with the moſt High: by which Pride is generally believ'd to be the firſt Sin. But the difficulty ſtill remains how it could ever have enter'd. Ingenious Men have given their Conjectures, but it ſeems to be one of thoſe ſecret things which belong to God.

WE know how things ſtand at preſent with regard to Man, all his Faculties, the Earth he treads on, and the Elements that ſerve him, and often maſter him. It were an endleſs, as well as a melancholy Task, to enumerate all the Infirmities and Diſeaſes of the human Body alone; ſome of theſe ſo very painful and loathſome, that Nature ſhrinks at the very thought of them. If we are told that Pain is confin'd to that Senſe alone which is call'd Feeling; 'tis very true that racking Pain or Torture, and indeed all thoſe uneaſy Senſations which commonly go under the name of Pain, are [126] confin'd to that Senſe; the Nerves being ſtretch'd out of their natural Poſition, or whatever be the cauſe: but the reſt of the Senſes have their uneaſy Senſations too; the Smell, the Taſte, the Eye and the Ear are grated and offended, or in general render'd very uneaſy, whatever Term the uneaſineſs is expreſs'd by. A delicate Perſon would be ſhock'd to find himſelf led into an Hoſpital, or to have a Liſt of Diſeaſes laid before him; all repreſentations of Pain and Naſtineſs are diſagreeable, two things (however) the Body in its preſent State is very liable to. And the general tendency of all Bodies, animate and inanimate, to Corruption and Diſſolution, is very conſpicuous.

L.

IF the Diſorders of the Mind were inquir'd into, they would be found in no ſmaller number; and the diſcovery no leſs unpleaſant. The Diſorders of the Imagination are the moſt harmleſs, but often exceeding melancholy to behold; as any body will acknowledge, who has ever ſeen a Madman. Even the common Diſtempers of the Fancy in thoſe that are not reckon'd quite out of their Senſes (we may ſay in their beſt Senſes) are not the marks of an original State. And it were pretty well, if all that could be ſaid of a Perſon, were, that he is a little fanciful: Dark, Sullen, Peeviſh, are leſs agreeable Epithets; Unjuſt and Cruel leſs ſtill.

[127] BUT 'tis beſt not to dwell upon Evils, and what is ſhocking, and afflicting; if we turn our Eye to the other ſide, we ſhall find many fine things ſtill left, and alſo be forc'd to acknowledge that the diſagreeable things mixed with them, are the effects of Wiſdom and Goodneſs in the ſupreme Governour, whoſe purpoſes of doing good remain invariable, and whoſe Mercies are over all his Works.

Ae

INFALLIBLY ſo. The contrivance of the divine Artificer appears in the frame of the meaneſt Animal, nay of the meaneſt Vegetable, which is made up too of its Fibres and Canals, and woven and join'd together with Order and Beauty. How agreeable does this Still Life appear, from the Cedar to the Hyſop! How gay are the Flowers! how ſweet, how refreſhing! This ſingle Subject would be a large Province for declaiming, to any who had that Talent. Nor is the Wiſdom leſs conſpicuous in the care taken for the propagation of all theſe inanimate Beauties, as ſo many Philoſophers and Divines have obſerved, whoſe Works are in every body's hands: Cicero, Ray, Derham, and many more.

BUT as the Idea of Goodneſs is more endearing than that of Wiſdom, ſo every [128] thing that has Life and Fecling does actually feel the effects of the former Attribute of the Deity; and rational Creatures both feel, and can reflect with Pleaſure and Love. It would ſeem to be this Capacity in Man that made Ovid call him a more holy Creature than the reſt.

L.

I know not what Ovid has meant by Holineſs. But theſe two words, Righteouſneſs and Holineſs are very near a-kin: moſt Actions that are called impure, are only ſuch becauſe they are unjuſt, and it were eaſy to give examples. I am ſtill glad to ſuppoſe there is ſome Righteouſneſs remaining even after the Fall. Nor will this claſh with St. Peter, in the character he gives of the new Earth wherein dwelleth Righteouſneſs; for tho' it is to dwell there openly and in triumph, a little of it may lurk here under a Cloud. There is yet ſome Honeſty and Friendſhip in the World, which is a very uſeful Conſideration in a dark Fit of the Spleen.

Ae.

THERE are really ſo many good things remaining after the Fall, that one would ſometimes think there had been no Curſe. Nor muſt we take that word for an execration, ſince it is chiefly to be taken for a change to an inferior from a ſuperior State. We cannot indeed know how great the [129] change is (and 'tis much for our eaſe) the Scripture being ſo ſhort in the Deſcription of the former State. To conſider only the Body: tho' it is called both frail and vile, yet ſtill it has its attractions, and whatever is ſhocking about it, is well diſpoſed of, out of ſight; to ſay nothing of the uſefulneſs of thoſe things that may be counted the vileſt, as the Gall it ſelf. Then, with relation to the Spirit which inhabits this Body, as there is a congruity that ſuch a Spirit ſhould be ſo lodged, or impriſon'd, let it be conſider'd what diſorders would be committed if this Vehicle were not ſo groſs and heavy as it is: what would greater degrees of Strength and Agility have produced but more miſchief. How good is it for the publick Quiet that we are ſubjected to Hunger and Thirſt, Cold, Wearineſs, and all the reſt! And if we are deſign'd for a higher State after this, ſuch Defects and Vexations ſeem alſo deſign'd to keep us from doating upon this Jayl: for, as Sir Thomas More uſed to ſay, ‘"to aim at Honours here, is ſetting a Coat of Arms over a Priſon-Gate."’

L.

THERE are ſo many ſmiling things ſtill in the World, and really pleaſant and good, that many would wiſh to live in it for ever; even when their ſhare of Comforts appears to be very ſmall, and when they confeſs this to be a State of Tryal [130] and Diſcipline, as the State before the Fall was a State of Tryal alone. Mr. Locke calls this Life a Probationerſhip: this ſuppoſition would be of great uſe, both for regulating our own Conduct, and vindicating the Author of Nature, when the Humour ariſes of criticizing his Works.

Ae.

BUT moral Evil (ſay they) is harder to digeſt.

L.

WITHOUT doubt; and it is certainly a more melancholy thing to think of: but there is a great difference betwixt ſome moral Evils and others, betwixt a flaſh of Anger (for inſtance) and deliberate Malice. Thoſe little Humours, and Whims, and Oppoſitions of Temper, ſo common in the World, do contribute to the mutual Diſcipline of its Inhabitants, beſide what they muſt all ſuffer from the diſorders of the Elements and the infirmity of their own Bodies. Indeed when inſtances of Cruelty and Fraud are objected, this is a greater blot upon the divine Workmanſhip; and a ſeverer Diſcipline ſtill: but who could ever ſay he was forced to be a Villain?

Did Fate, or We, when great Atrides dy'd,
Urge the bold Traitor to the Regicide?

The good Emperor, 'tis true, ſpeaks of * neceſſary Raſcals, yet any body may take [131] the liberty to ſay, the World would be better without them. A Government, indeed, may find ſome advantage from Spies and Informers, and other Servants: but thoſe neceſſary Men are only ſo at times, and the Miniſtry could fall on a more agreeable way of imploying the Money. Many things therefore call'd neceſſary are only convenient in certain Situations and Caſes, as one Poiſon is made uſe of for driving out another.

Ae.

WE have but one of three Opinions to follow, That things could not poſſibly have been in a more perfect State than they are at preſent; or to believe what the Scripture ſays of a Fall: or, laſtly, to ſuppoſe that Man was created with all the corruptions of Soul and Body that we find in us, and the Earth and all other things about it to have been always as they are at preſent.

L.

THE firſt Opinion will have few followers that know any thing of the World, and are acquainted with Complaints and Groans: 'tis much if the moſt unthinking Beau that's carried in a Chair can believe it. The third Opinion (tho' not blaſphemous) does not ſeem honourable for the Deity, whoſe Works can ſcarce be ſuppoſed to have been made imperfect originally; tho' if that were true, it would make no [132] alteration upon the duty of rational Creatures, who ſhould ſtill do the beſt they can, and ſtruggle with their Infirmities and bad Tendencies, which way ſoever they have come. The ſecond Opinion therefore ſeems moſt rational, that Evil has enter'd, tho' we cannot comprehend how.

IV. Remains of VIRTUE.

L.

'TIS agreeable to leave the gloom, and to conſider what remains after ſuch a melancholy Shipwreck. We did not indeed ſpeak much of the Fall, nor can it be repreſented by Mortals. If ſuch an Event had been capable of deſcription, Milton's Imagination had bidden fair for it. Paſcal's reaſoning to evince the fact, * from the Contrarieties of human Nature, is very fine.

Ae.

ALL he writes is ſo.

L.

BUT to come to what remains after the ſad Overthrow, external Nature is generally granted to abound with good things; no body denies the Beauties of the Spring, Summer and Harveſt; the Winter itſelf has its Beauties. The great diſpute is concerning the moral State, and two ſorts of Authors are at war with one another upon this [133] Point. The Controverſy was pretty ancient, as Paſcal obſerves, between the Stoicks and Epicureans, and other claſhing Sects of Philoſophers. Among the Moderns the Duke of Rochefoucault is thought too rigid in his Sentiments upon Virtue: but he only reckons the thing a greater rarity than the pretences to it. Monſieur Bayle is indeed ſeverer, and ſeems to reſolve it wholly into Complexion and Education; upon which, a delicate Affair (the Women's Chaſtity) has been brought upon the Carpet. Bayle may be put at the head of the Moderns, who ſtrike againſt Virtue in general; and my Lord Shaftesbury (becauſe of his Quality) may get the command of the other Party, who reckon the ballance of the Paſſions may be ſo eaſily kept, and all the Virtues to be of our own growth.

Ae.

IT may be granted to the ſevere Men, that whatever is the bare reſult of Complexion is no Virtue; 'tis but a mechanical ſort of thing, nor can it be called Vice neither, as being but a tendency of Nature to its Relief or Pleaſure, without any reflection of the Mind upon the Moral Good or Evil. One may have naturally a greater Thirſt than another, and drink more to ſatisfy it, and yet be as ſober as the other. There are very different Conſtitutions in both Sexes, and it was an injury done the Women to place their chief Virtue in the point [134] of Chaſtity, as if it were their greateſt Difficulty and Trouble; whereas Men have much more to ſtruggle with of that kind, and indulge themſelves without much blame from the World. The Sex are at another loſs in that way of reckoning, they are tempted to believe this ſingle Virtue may give them a diſpenſation from obſerving all the reſt. The Men therefore have themſelves to blame, in making their Syſtem of Virtue ſo imperfect, which ſeems to have ariſen from their Jealouſy and Pride.

L.

SOME of Bayle's followers have kept no meaſures with the Sex at all, and would ſeem to have forgot the difference betwixt being capable of Love and being Lewd. He at leaſt keeps the appearances of Civility, and is much more a Maſter in the Art of *Sneering. But in ſhort, when rude Hands [135] attempt to draw the Picture of both Sexes, it looks as if Proſtitutes had ſit to the one, and Cowards and Sharpers to the other.

Ae.

THE reſtraints of Pride and Shame are evident enough: but why may not Virtue have its attractions as well as Vice? not is it properly Vice, but Pleaſure, that has the Charm; as in the Story of Hercules. Sir Thomas More is of opinion, that Virtue is [136] attractive, and I'll read you his account of the Sentiments of the Utopians. ‘"They think not Felicity to reſt in all Pleaſure, but only in that Pleaſure that is good and honeſt, and that hereto, as to perfect Bleſſedneſs, our Nature is allured and drawn even of Virtue, whereto only they that be of the contrary Opinion do attribute Felicity. For they define Virtue to be a Life order'd according to Nature, and that we be hereunto ordain'd of God. . . . His Utopians ſet up much for harmleſs Pleaſures, and a merry Life: but (he adds) in all things this Counſel they uſe, that a leſs Pleaſure hinder not a bigger; and the Pleaſure be no cauſe of diſpleaſure, which they think to follow of neceſſity if the Pleaſure be diſhoneſt," &c.’ Here are different Ideas of Pleaſant and Honeſt, and Conſcience and Remorſe ſuppoſed. They had already contemn'd the fooliſh Pleaſures of the Imagination (Gewgaws and common Honours) and preferr'd the Pleaſures of the Mind to thoſe of the Body; ſaying, ‘"the chief part of them doth come of the Exerciſe of Virtue, and Conſcience of good Life, &c."’

BY this account of Human Nature, which may be admitted to be pretty juſt, before bad Example and Habits have added a ſecond corruption to it; we ſee the Oppoſition is not betwixt Virtue and Pleaſure, but betwixt honeſt [137] and diſhoneſt Pleaſure: nor is the Oppoſition betwixt the Pleaſures of the Body and thoſe of the Mind, no Pleaſures being diſhoneſt that are natural; but that which ſpoils all, is the bad Principle from which the Actions and Intentions proceed.

L.

WHAT do you think of thoſe that call Virtue a thing ſo much of our own growth?

Ae.

I differ very much from them. But ſuppoſe it were yielded; the Conſequences would not be ſo dangerous, if it were conſider'd that whatever we have that's good is free Gift, and that of our ſelves we cannot think a good Thought, no more than we can keep our ſelves in Life and Health. The only Queſtion is, whether we are not born with ſome Tendencies to Virtue as well as to Vice? I ventur'd to ſay above, that there is ſtill ſome Honeſty and ſome Friendſhip in the World, which ſome of the Advocates for Self-Love do not deny, maintaining only that 'tis all for our own ends: but I would beg leave to put the following Queſtions.

MAY not a Judge give a juſt ſentence without any view to Applauſe, or any fear of Cenſure? He may be ſuppoſed to be in ſuch Circumſtances, that his Name ſhall never be heard of; and his belief of a future State can likewiſe be ſuppoſed to be very little, [138] or nothing. May not a Merchant give up a fair Account, when he might give up a wrong one without all poſſibility of Diſcovery? We can ſuppoſe the ſame of all Truſtees, and whoſe Belief may be ſometimes of the ſame ſize with the Judge's. So much for Honeſty in dealing. Then may not a Man eat and drink moderately and unexpenſively, from a better motive than the Fear of being ſick, or for ſaving his Money? And, to ſuppoſe a greater Temptation, may he not abſtain from violating the tendereſt Right of another, when he might encroach with all the ſafety imaginable to his own Perſon? It were hard if the ſame favourable Suppoſition could not be made for the Sex, as if the Fear of Diſcovery were their only Reſtraint. Have not they the ſame Senſe of Juſtice, and a much greater Senſe of Modeſty, implanted in their Nature? But to talk of ourſelves, if a Man had two Women in his power, and equally charming, but the one free, and the other not; it were a ſtrange perverſeneſs to go deliberately to his Neighbour's Property, merely for the ſake of encroaching. It was Caeſar's Opinion, that if Right was to be violated, it was only to be for the ſake of a Crown: which ſhews a natural tendency to Juſtice when there is no temptation to the contrary; and I ſhall eaſily grant that Men are overcome with very ſmall temptations. But it is enough in the preſent Enquiry, if it can be ſaid that [139] they would naturally go the ſtraight Road, if there was nothing to allure and ſeduce them. Even when we are deceiv'd 'tis under ſome ſpecious appearance or other; decipimur ſpecie Recti—So that if we ſhould allow that a Man might be ſo perverſe as to wrong his Neighbour in the point already mention'd, we may ſuppoſe him to have been previouſly deluded by falſe Ideas of Glory and Gallantry; he has imagin'd it a pretty thing to break thro' all Laws, 'tis a ſort of Conqueſt too, and he can talk of Favours he has obtain'd, and of more than he has obtain'd.

L.

IT ſeems when the Springs of Actions are laid open, it will be found that 'tis Vanity or the Love of Glory which determines Men, rather than the Love of pure Vice, or the doing Ill for Ill's ſake. If it be ſaid, that Men in their honeſt Actions are neither determin'd by Ill nor Good, but by mere Chance; this word has nothing in it that can make it to be the motive of any Action whatſoever. And when we ſee Men acting in the ſame uniform way, as we have ſuppoſed in the Caſe of your honeſt Accountant, it may be fairly concluded that the natural Love of Honeſty, which alſo implies an abhorrence of Roguery, is the determining Principle, tho' it may not be much reflected on by the Perſon himſelf.

Ae.
[140]

AS to Friendſhip, it will perhaps be alledged, there are ſo many endearing things in it, that we are ready to do good Offices to our Friends becauſe we are fond of their Perſons; ſo that in this affection there can be no Virtue: a Man would not cheat his Friend, no more than he would cheat his Son, becauſe he loves him, &c.

IT muſt be confeſs'd, that where there is true Friendſhip there is ſurety enough for fair dealing, and all the good that can be done beſides; Love is the ſtrongeſt of all tyes. But if an honeſt Man ſhould have to do with known Cheats (a thing that may readily happen) will he not find himſelf oblig'd to give them fair play? 'Tis true, my Lord Rocheſter ſays, * You'll be undone, and one may really be at a loſs: but this lively piece of Poetry (every body knows) is not to be ſet up as a ſtandard of Virtue, and at the bottom it is rather a banter upon Vice.

Ae.

I believe 'tis difficult to determine whether Men are more capable of Honeſty or of Friendſhip: both are comprehended in Virtue, and both ſeem to be natural. But Men differ from one another very much in their Tempers and Diſpoſitions; ſome are ſtrictly honeſt to all, but very limited in their Affection. If the Benignity be univerſal, it will draw Honeſty along with it: [141] but the contrary cannot be affirmed. However, Virtue in general may ſo far be ſaid to be innate, or of our own growth, (let the Word paſs) that all the Inſtances of it are pleaſant to hear of, Friendſhip and all other Sentiments of Humanity, Juſtice and all that falls under the Idea of Honour; ſome of which Sentiments are upon occaſions actually exerted in Minds corrupt enough, good Offices are honeſtly done; and perhaps none are born ſo very corrupt, as not to wiſh they could do better. The Underſtanding ſees very often what is right: if the Will follows it but ſeldom, there are at leaſt Intervals of regret, and a Man is angrier with himſelf than with all the World.

L.

HAD not the Author of our Nature implanted in us ſome tendency to Virtue, we might have had ground to complain of our unhappy Conſtitution and of his Severity (greater than that of the Egyptian Taskmaſters) in requiring ſo much, and furniſhing ſo little. * Milton ſays,

—yet once more he ſhall ſtand
On even ground againſt his mortal Foe:

Which had not been the caſe, if all our natural Byaſſes had been entirely to the wrong ſide. But the Moral Senſe extends both to the Underſtanding and the Heart, tho' every [142] body knows which of the two proceeds with the moſt warmth: the one barely approves or diſapproves, the other loves or abhors. When they act in concert, and under the right direction, then all is right.

BUT that vain Man may not imagine himſelf to be ſomething, he will do well to conſider the weakneſs and diſorder of all his Faculties. A very little Self-examination would ſoon undeceive us. If we have ſometimes a pleaſure in doing good, and the kind Affections ſtir in us, we too often find what may be called unkind Affections; we are affected with Anger and Reſentment, and feel a ſort of joy in proſecuting thoſe unhappy Motions. Man's Heart is compar'd to a Seed-plot, where very oppoſite things ſpring up together, and the worſt Plants need no cultivation; as the beſt and tendereſt are brought up with difficulty, and ſoon choaked.

Ae.

SOMETIMES this Soil is almoſt incapable of producing any thing either good or bad: ſtupid Sloth extinguiſhes all. We are all Fire or all Ice by turns. This is ſome little account of our Heart. As to the Underſtanding, the ſhortneſs of its Reach agrees with the ſlowneſs of its Apprehenſion; and how often are we but dazled and deceived, when we think we ſee beſt! The Fall has produced very contrary Effects upon us, we are fanciful, ſtupid, giddy, timorous, ſtubborn, [143] impatient, &c. In ſhort, if we would dwell at home (as Perſius ſays) we ſhould find our houſhold Furniture very poor and ſcanty.

L.

BUT after all, we have ſomething given us to cultivate and improve. Mr. Locke does not deny the vis inſita, you know: 'tis on the Title-Page of his Book of Education; and in his Eſſay on Human Underſtanding, he does not deny neither, ‘"*That there are natural Tendencies imprinted on the Minds of Men."’ . . . He ſays indeed, (§. 4) ‘"Another reaſon that makes me doubt of any innate practical Principles, is, that I think there cannot any one moral Rule be propoſed, whereof a Man may not juſtly demand a Reaſon."’ . . . And he adds, ‘"ſhould that moſt unſhaken Rule of Morality, and Foundation of all ſocial Virtue, That one ſhould do as he would be done unto, be propoſed to one who had never heard it before, but yet is of Capacity to underſtand the meaning; might he not without any abſurdity ask a Reaſon why? And were not he that propoſed it bound to make out the Truth and Reaſonableneſs of it to him?"’

Ae.

IT would be ſtrange, I think, if a Man of capacity to underſtand the meaning of that Rule could really want a Reaſon for [144] obſerving it. It muſt be ſuppoſed he has ſome Notion of Right and Wrong, or he can never ſee the Obligation of any moral Rule, let it be put in any Shape or Terms whatſoever. If he has any Notion then or Senſe of Equity, his Friend the Propoſer can have ſome acceſs to his Mind, and will be able to make out the Reaſonableneſs of that Rule to him in ſome other form of words more adapted to the ſlowneſs of his apprehenſion; for the Defect muſt be only there. The Principle is innate, only a particular Propoſition may not chance to be aſſented to on the firſt hearing; or there may be no innate Idea of a moral Propoſition, any more than of a mathematical one, before the firſt hearing, and even not 'till certain ſteps are made for getting at the bottom of it. But as to that ſacred Rule of doing as we would be done unto, 'tis highly probable, that having been given by the Saviour of the World, and ſpoken to the ſimpleſt Multitude, every Man will ſee the Reaſonableneſs of it at a glance, and alſo wiſh (if he is not wholly abandon'd) to be able to put it in practice.

V. Helps to RELIGION.

L.

I Suppoſe, tho' all Virtues are comprehended in Religion, yet there are ſome of them that muſt properly be call'd Divine [145] and Spiritual, and conſequently not of our own Growth, or natural to us ſince the Fall.

Ae.

No doubt: and upon this ſeems to be founded the Diſtinction of the Virtues of Nature, and thoſe of Grace or Religion.

AGAIN, the Virtues of Religion itſelf are all comprehended in Charity or the Love of God, without which they would ſignify nothing.

L.

BUT this divine Love ſeems to be quite loſt ſince the Sin of Adam, Faith which is previous to that Virtue being now extinguiſhed. Before we can love we muſt believe, ſince (according to the old Maxim) there is no deſire of a thing unknown. All the Faith natural Men can pretend to, is work'd up by their Reaſon, * the things of God appearing Fooliſhneſs to them. We may ſee God indeed in his Works, for the Heavens declare his Glory, and there may be an impreſſion of his almighty Power upon our minds ſome other way than by our own Reaſoning or making Inferences from the things that ſtrike our Senſes: but this is only what they call believing à poſteriori, and we could give no Demonſtration of the Exiſtence of God to others who doubt of it, but that either they muſt believe it, or they [146] muſt believe a Contradiction; as Dr. Clarke very well argues in his Diſcourſes upon Mr. Boyle's Eſtabliſhment; the ſubſtance of which is this.

‘"EITHER there has always exiſted ſome independent Being, the Author of all others, or elſe there has been an infinite Succeſſion of dependent Beings produced one from another. If this ſuppoſition were true, there would be nothing Self-exiſtent: and then what ſhould have determin'd ſuch a Succeſſion of Beings from all Eternity? Neceſſity is already excluded, becauſe there is nothing ſuppos'd neceſſarily exiſting: Chance is but an inſignificant word, and can produce nothing. So of two Caſes equally poſſible, to wit, whether any thing or nothing ſhould have exiſted, the one is determin'd rather than the other, by pure nothing, which is a palpable Contradiction. And therefore ſome unchangeable and independent Being muſt have exiſted from all Eternity."’

THIS Reaſoning (which does better in the Doctor's own words) is ſtill but reaſoning, and an ignorant Countryman may have as ſtrong an impreſſion of an eternal Author of all things; but the impreſſion is ſtill faint in compariſon of true Faith, which may be called a ſpiritual Senſation; as St. Paul ſpeaks of things that are ſpiritually diſcerned: [147] he alſo calls Faith the Evidence of things not ſeen.

Ae.

HOW weak the Belief of inviſible things is at preſent, may be eaſily gathered from the Practice of the World, even of thoſe who make a profeſſion of believing. We are much more determin'd by the Love of things on this contemptible Earth, which we are ſo ſoon to leave, and the Fear of what a few of our Fellow-Mortals will ſay of us, than by all the Encouragements and Threatnings of the Goſpel. Our Hopes and Fears are confin'd to this Life. We are ſo far from believing an immortal Life to come, that we hardly believe we ſhall die; notwithſtanding we have carried many of our Acquaintance to the Grave! and yet upon the leaſt Fit of Sickneſs we are in fear of Death, but hardly fear any thing after it; and hardly wiſh for any thing after it! Sometimes, 'tis true, there is a confuſed ſort of Fear of things inviſible, but it rarely operates ſo far as the Fear of natural Death, or of bodily Pain, or common Cenſure.

L.

BEING thus ſtupid, and without ſenſe of future and inviſible things, Faith is the firſt thing we have need of in Religion: but as it is itſelf a part of Religion, and contains ſeveral Articles, we have need to cultivate our natural Faculties, to employ our Reaſon, and exert our Activity (ſo far [148] as it can go) in proper Enquiries and Reſearches, in order to obtain this lively Faith.

Ae.

BUT is there not alſo a Neceſſity of praying, in order to obtain our Wants of all kinds?

L.

No doubt: For tho' our Pride is unwilling to acknowledge our Wants, yet Prayer is among the firſt Helps to Religion, and a part of it alſo. Then every body knows that Prayer ſignifies nothing without Sincerity, by which I mean an upright Intention of obſerving whatever we ſhall believe our Duty, and to do the beſt we can in our Uncertainty about it. As Prayer therefore is ſuppos'd previous to Faith, Sincerity is previous to Prayer; or the firſt ſtep of all is to wiſh to do well.

Ae.

I know not what Thoughts would occur to us, and what we would do in a meer natural State, without the advantage of ſome Inſtruction. Mr. Wollaſton has given a Scheme of the Religion of Nature very handſomely, and towards the end of it, confeſſes he wants a Guide: but then he had Plato and Cicero, and the Rabbins, to be Guides to Him, as they had others before them: ſo that unleſs a Man was writing who had ſeen no Books, and had received no verbal Inſtruction, we can hardly [149] tell what his ſelf-taught Opinions would have been; perhaps of very ſmall conſequence. It would ſeem enough to allow to Man a Power within himſelf of diſcerning things after they are preſented to him in [...]ordinary way, or a Capacity of being inſtructed, which irrational Creatures have not. And if the uſual means of Inſtruction ſhould be denied, (as in the caſe of a Man brought up, by ſome ſtrange Accident, among wild Beaſts) we can ſet no Limits to the Source of Light, the Eternal Reaſon, which may communicate it ſelf in ſuch Circumſtances; and very eaſily ſupply the loſs of all ordinary means whatſoever. But theſe Enquiries are of no great uſe.

L.

SOME would ſay you were a Quaker, and an Aſſertor of the Light within.

Ae.

I'M pretty eaſy. I have heard others ſay that Truth is ſplit, and each Party had got a bit of it. But to return to the Helps of Religion: Sincerity and common Senſe being ſuppoſed, a Perſon that finds himſelf ſo indigent and out of order, will naturally have recourſe to Prayer, either with words or without them. Finding that he is far from being ſelf-ſufficient, he will readily ask the Aſſiſtance of the Almighty; for it is here likewiſe ſuppoſed that he has ſome Belief of the ſupreme Being, and a [150] Confidence in his Goodneſs, Faith implying both theſe.

AGAIN, ſuppoſing our imperfect Believer to have been born in a Chriſtian Country, and to have read the Bible, he will ſee more poſitive Marks of the divine Goodneſs, which will incline him to Praiſe and Thankſgiving, as well as to Prayer: Fear would ſeem to be the Source of the latter, as Love is of the former. Even the Writings of ſome Philoſophers, (Plato's in particular) ſhew us the propereſt kind of Prayer, which is, to refer to the Deity to chuſe what is beſt for us. His Dialogue named the ſecond Alcibiades is well known, and upon that Model * Juvenal and Perſius have form'd two admirable Poems. Epictetus makes Praiſe the chief Character and Buſineſs of a rational Creature. Indeed, true Prayer and true Praiſe are much of the ſame nature, and each of them is accompanied with Love of the Object to which the ſolemn Addreſſes are made.

L.

No doubt, the Eminence and Purity of that Love is the End of all Religion, as appears from many clear Paſſages in the old and new Teſtament. For tho' Faith and Prayer, and other Duties, are call'd Parts of Religion, yet ſince they lead to [151] that Charity, which is the end of the Commandment, the Diſtinction betwixt the End and the Means is very obvious. And among the Means themſelves, there is a Diſtinction betwixt thoſe things that are to be done, and thoſe that are to be avoided. But there are ſtill things of an inferiour Claſs, which are only to be called Helps to Religion, and therefore not properly Parts of it, as any body may ſee.

Ae.

IF the Love of God be the Point, or Stage to which we muſt arrive, Self-Love ſeems to be the Stage from which we muſt ſet out; thoſe two Loves, as St. Auguſtin tells us, having made two Cities. They are certainly two States of Mind diametrically oppoſite, (the one alſo contemning the other) or two contrary Principles, by which we are determined: but as they are not for the moſt part in their utmoſt force, but the one ſometimes weaker than the other, and ſometimes ſtronger, ſo we may be ſaid to be Inhabitants of both Cities, and to go from the one to the other by turns: which of the two we are ofteneſt found in, is eaſy to diſcover.

L.

THE removing of Hindrances is much a-kin with the Helps to Religion, and both theſe are ſo numerous, that we cannot enter into the Detail: every body talks [152] of bad Company, and the Example of the World, as being very pernicious.

EVERY body likewiſe ſpeaks of greater and leſs Duties, and of Religion or the Tye that binds us to all Duties, as the word imports. If ſome contemn this Tye, or profeſs to contemn it, the Number of ſuch Profeſſors is very ſmall, and 'tis but in ſome random Expreſſions over a Bottle, or elſe from a ſingular Affectation of being impudent. The Profeſſors on the other ſide are vaſtly more numerous.

Ae.

I believe this may be farther obſerved, that among the ſeveral Parties into which the Chriſtian World is now divided, moſt People are mightily pleaſed with their own choice, which (God knows) is very accidental: but the wonder is not ſo great, that they ſhould like their own Opinions, as that they ſhould hate the Perſons, who differ from them; and this ſometimes, when there is no Intereſt to interfere, to make the Quarrel look a little ſolid.

L.

BUT moſt People having juſt as much Religion as to make them hate one another, and to go to their particular Houſes of Devotion, the wonder ceaſes that they load each other with Names of Contempt, viz. Superſtition, Enthuſiaſm, Bigotry: There are, no doubt, ſuch Characters in the World, [153] but to whoſe ſhare they ſhould fall heavieſt, would not be eaſy to know, without more labour than People commonly are at before they cenſure. A reaſonable Diffidence therefore of our ſelves, and a due reſpect for others, may be reckon'd among the chief Helps to Religion, tho' they are properly two States of the Mind which produce one another; and the Eſteem we bear our Neighbours contributes to make us love them, which is a great part of our Duty accompliſh'd, and without which the other part is impracticable: for He that loveth not his Brother whom he hath ſeen, how can he love God whom he hath not ſeen?

Ae.

IT were to be wiſh'd that they who own the ſacred Authority of the Scriptures would apply themſelves more to the ſtudy of theſe Books, wherein they will find a great variety of things; ſome for Speculation, I mean the Exerciſe of the Underſtanding, but more for Practice, which is by far the moſt important. Perhaps Curioſity will ſometimes take it ill to be ſtopt ſhort and put to a nonplus: but Impatience becomes a Reader ill, who has once aknowledged a Writing to be Divine. His Inattention argues diſreſpect of a different kind, and it cannot well be denied that Folly accompanies both the one and the other.

VI. The EQUALITY of Men by Nature.

[154]
Ae.

'TIS a current Maxim, that all Men are born free, equal and independent.

L.

THE Equality is more eaſily made out than the other two: for all Men are born helpleſs, and many ways in ſubjection. If by Freedom is meant the Liberty of the Mind, there would ſeem to be little ground for Diſpute about that; no man having any power over his Neighbour's Thoughts, farther than he can perſuade him either by Reaſon or Sophiſtry: for in compliances from Fear or Profit, the opinion ſtands much as it was.

Ae.

THE natural Equality therefore ſhould be granted, both as to the Mind and the Body; all Creatures of the ſame kind are in that reſpect equal. There are indeed differences of Complexion, Genius, Diſpoſition, and Temper, all which may be called Natural, as appearing very early, and continuing very late; but theſe differences are only in the particular Conſtitution of Souls and Bodies, or in the Degrees of certain Qualities, every Man having leſs or more of the ſame Quality; as for inſtance, Pride, Compaſſion, Hatred, Joy, Curioſity, Penetration, [155] &c. for of every Quality or Power relating to the Affections, the Underſtanding, or the five Senſes, every Man has ſomewhat.

EVERY Man has ſomething in him of the Mathematician, the Mechanick, the Lawyer, the Stateſman, the Mountebank; and ſo of all other Trades or Profeſſions. A Man, no doubt, may miſtake his Genius, and enter upon a wrong Trade; but ſtill he may know ſome little thing of his Buſineſs, tho' as little as you pleaſe. *Mr. Paſcal obſerves, ‘"There is a wide difference between a Genius for the Mathematicks, and a Genius for Buſineſs or Policy."’ The French word is Fineſſe, which is not always taken in a bad ſenſe. He ſhews at ſome length the different Principles on which thoſe Profeſſions are founded; and drawing to a concluſion, he ſays, ‘"But then 'tis certain, between both, that a falſe Genius will neither make a Geometry Profeſſor, nor a Privy Counſellor."’

L.

NATURAL Differences are no leſs remarkable in things relating to the Heart, than in things relating to the Genius: you ſhall meet with one Man whom you would not truſt with a Half-penny, another whom [156] you could frankly and ſafely truſt with all you have. 'Tis true, bad Education and Example are often to blame; and even Good Natures, Bene-nata, are corrupted: but ſtill there are natural Differences; and if it ſhould be ask'd, Whence do they come? or what makes one Man differ from another? no Anſwer can be given, but that in fact it may be ſaid, one Man has got two Talents, and another ten. St. Paul's Queſtion is very much to be remembred, What haſt thou, O Man, that thou haſt not received? But I believe People are not ſo much inclined to think that what they have received is not freely given, as that their Gifts are greater than in reality they are.

Ae.

THE natural Equality of Mankind appears moſt of all in certain unavoidable States and Appointments of the great Lawgiver. It is appointed for all Men once to die, and after this the Judgment. The firſt part we ſee. The Midwives know how equal Men are at their birth, and the Gravemakers at their burial. And in all the paſſages between, or the ſtates intervening, the Equality is not diſputed. If any Man arrives at the Weakneſſes of Old Age, he muſt paſs thro' the raw State of an Infant, the Sillineſs of a Child, the Raſhneſs of Youth; in ſhort, the common Follies and Miſeries adhering to all the Periods of Life.

L.
[157]

OUTWARD Vexation and Trouble is another point of Equality, not only affecting the ſeveral Periods of Life, but all the Situations and Circumſtances which Men can be placed in.—* Great Travail is created for every man . . . . . from him that weareth Purple and a Crown, to him that is clothed with a linnen Frock.

Ae.

BUT beſides the Troubles annex'd to the different Circumſtances of Fortune, every Man has a particular State of his own, which few are or can be acquainted with. And there are ſome little things that may be call'd the Troubles of the Day: the French call them les Occaſions journalieres; and upon theſe daily or hourly Incidents the Quiet of our Life is obſerv'd very much to depend. Thoſe that are in the higheſt Stations will be the moſt ſenſible of ſuch nameleſs Difficulties.

L.

THERE is one thing to ſhew the natural Equality among Men, which may help alſo to ſweeten ſome uneaſy Reflections upon Life; and that is, the natural Promptneſs of contracting Friendſhip. (I believe, we obſerv'd it before.) We ſhall find Men engaged in the cloſeſt Tyes of Good-will and Fidelity, from the pureſt Accidents imaginable, a Stage-Coach, or a Track-Scout. [158] 'Tis true, as St. Paul ſaid to the Athenians, God made all Nations of one Blood; which ſhews a common Relation among Men, as well as an Equality: but how this Relation is minded, every body knows. The very words Relation and Blood are confin'd to certain narrow Degrees of Kindred, into which ſome Perſons are admitted with great reluctancy, or truly becauſe they cannot be diſown'd.

Ae.

AND among thoſe who admit each other into that Diſtinction, the Friendſhip is ſeldom very warm: ſo that we often find it the moſt hearty, when it has riſen the moſt accidentally. I ſay, without Blood, without any Combination of Intereſt, any Deſign of overturning Governments, or of quietly making rich under them, or any private View whatſoever, we ſhall ſee Friendſhips contracted, which can only end with Death; if they end then.

VII. Accidental Characters.

L.

THERE are Differences among Men by Nature, which may be call'd natural Characters; as the Differences occaſion'd by Fortune may be call'd accidental Characters. Tho' all Power is from God, yet to us it appears a great Accident [159] that one Man ſhould have been a King, another an Archbiſhop, another a Colonel of Horſe, and ſo of other Offices and Employments.

Ae.

WHICHSOEVER way Power comes into a Man's hands, 'tis natural for him to endeavour to keep it, and even to increaſe it; as the Deſire of it is pretty natural to all Men. Theſe are new Inſtances of their Equality; and many other Inſtances of it may appear in their accidental Situations.

L.

POWER and Dominion ſeem to have been appropriated before any Property could be fixed in Goods and Money. The natural Power of Parents is not to be call'd Appropriation, becauſe the Safety of the Young depends upon the Care of the Old; and this is a Dominion founded in Love. But if we could ſuppoſe a Company of any grown-up People to have met together by ſome uncommon Chance, unleſs they agree that one or more of themſelves ſhall have the Rule, there is great likelihood of War to enſue among them. If every one ſhould ſuppoſe himſelf as fit to govern as his Neighbour, and had an equal ſtock of Courage to back his Pretenſions, whoſe hands would the Government fall into? But we ſee even among Pyrates there is Command and Subjection, and great need for it. How far [160] Cunning or Force, or a mixture of both, are uſed in the forming of Governments, is needleſs to mention; nor how they go on afterwards (for ſome time) pretty regularly like a piece of Clock-Work. In both Inſtances there is more to be aſcrib'd to Providence than is commonly imagin'd. You know Philip de Comines aſcribes a good deal to it.

Ae.

EVEN Horace acknowledges that the Dominion of this World is from the Powers above:

Dîs te minorem quod geris imperas,
Romane—
L.

IT were a difficult Task to enquire into all the different Forms of Government, and much more to adjuſt the Prerogatives and Privileges of the Governours and the Governed. 'Tis enough that every body is ſatisfied of the Neceſſity of Government, and that, whatever the Form be, it muſt be abſolute; tho' this laſt Point is not ſo much taken notice of, becauſe of the Diſagreeableneſs of the Sound. One Deſign of Government, no doubt, is to ſecure Property, but then the Governours will call for ſuch a Quota as they ſhall find expedient: for no body has yet ſaid that eight Shillings in the Pound may not be demanded as well as Four. All the queſtion is, where this great Truſt ſhall [161] be lodged? And here an Opportunity might be taken of extolling the Britiſh Conſtitution, but that 'tis needleſs; moſt People being agreed that 'tis a very good one. All Panegyricks upon an Adminiſtration are yet more to be avoided, ſince they are liable to be ſuſpected either of Flattery, or a deſign of reproaching with ſafety.

Ae.

PRIVATE Property being ſecured by the Government, there ariſes a mighty equality among the Subjects as to that point in a Free Country; every Man being allowed to get as much Money as he can, provided he keep within the bounds of the Laws.

L.

WHY do you call it private Property?

Ae.

BECAUSE the Governours muſt determine in the firſt place what is neceſſary for the Support of the Government. But tho' the Subjects are equally allowed to get all the Money they can, there is a great inequality in the Hits of Fortune, which creates diſtinctions without number. Hence Nobility and Gentry of ſeveral Claſſes and Denominations: hence Officers of the Church, the State, the Army, the Exciſe, and the reſt. But ſtill every Man has his chance for Preferment, and moſt Men are ſtill climbing, and ſtill many breaking their necks.

L.
[162]

BUT Men venture for Money as well as for Preferment; and no wonder, ſince Money anſwers all things, and that a good deal of it would purchaſe an Empire; as it actually happen'd at Rome, where the Empire was put to ſale by the Soldiers, and bought by a ſubſtantial Citizen.

Ae.

MEN venture a great deal alſo to ſhun Poverty, or rather the Contempt of it:

Per mare Pauperiem fugiens, per ſaxa, per ignes.

BY the way, the Change of the Roman Taſte is remarkable between the firſt Ages of the Commonwealth and the Age in which Horace makes his Obſervation. And Livy makes a boaſt in his Preface, that there was no People among whom Poverty was held in ſo much honour, and for ſo long a time. This Poverty does not mean Beggary, but Food and Raiment, with which theſe old Heathens were content.

L.

PROPERTY being an excluſive Right to uſe and diſpoſe of the Goods one has acquired, or is Maſter of for the time; it might be thought that when great Eſtates are got, they would be kept for ever: but it ſeems in the Courſe of things there is a natural Tendency to Equality or a Level, as Heaps artificially [163] piled up, fall almoſt by their own weight. If Men were determin'd by Covetouſneſs alone, they would have a fairer Chance for keeping their Goods, and tranſmitting them to their Repreſentatives; but having Vanity and other Inclinations alſo at heart, the far greater part of their Wealth, muſt be for others who aſſiſt them in thoſe Gratifications: and thus when the Eſtates are tolerably good, there is an Opportunity for Shop-keepers and Taylors, and a world of other Trades, to make ſomething for themſelves, till the Profits ariſing from the ſeveral Bubbles produce a new one, that is, a new Family, to make a Figure and to be ſerv'd like the old ones.

Ae.

IT ſeems the word Bubble has two Significations, and both agreeing to the Subject.

L.

THERE is an Univerſal Circulation: Ranks muſt be ſtill ſhifting about, new Meteors appearing, and forgetting their old Acquaintance, and even their Blood-Relations. But in the humour of taking care of Relations, People differ very much: ſome are willing at leaſt to ſee their Friends, and to do for them what they can. Others are of a different humour, and conclude that thoſe who are already under the hatches, ſhould be kept under.

Ae.
[164]

BUT Fortune often takes care of thoſe whom Nature forgets. Some who are born to nothing, and ſometimes (one may ſay) of no body, make a mighty appearance. Inſtances of the preſent time would be diſobliging: I ſhall only mention two, neither very modern nor very ancient, Sextus Quintus, and Caſtruccio Prince of Lucca; the latter a Foundling, and the former a Keeper of Hogs. Their Friends indeed could do no better for them: the Pope uſed to jeſt upon his Family, and call himſelf the Deſcendant of an illuſtrious Houſe, becauſe the Light came through the Roof for want of Tyling. But Fortune takes care of many who have not ſuch metal as thoſe two had: One would often wonder how ſome are raiſed ſo unexpectedly, while others are as unexpectedly depreſſed! And this unequal Proceedure of Fortune has made her ſometimes be called a Goddeſs, and ſometimes (eſpecially by thoſe ſhe neglects) a blind Gypſy.

L.

BUT to talk of the matter ſoberly, it would ſeem there is a ſecret Direction in the Affairs of very private Perſons, either to make them beneficial to others, or for their own particular Diſcipline; ſecond Cauſes being ſtill allowed to work. If ſome are ſaid to be raiſed up to be Scourges to others, it certainly may be called a particular misfortune to themſelves. However, [165] the Abuſes of Power and Diſtinction are not of ſo bad conſequence, as the want of them would be in the preſent Diſpoſition of Men. *Mr. Paſcal has a pretty Illuſtration of this Subject, which Mr. Kennet tranſlates with ſome Humour.

Ae.

BUT the odds of four Footmen to one, is a real Diſtinction of Power as well as of Figure; 'tis a ſort of Life guard to a great Man. 'Tis even remarkable how far a bare Name will go, without much Attendance, or much Money, to ſecure a Man from Inſults, and to keep thoſe who have a dependence upon him in ſome order among themſelves. So that Name and Rank have a magical kind of Power in the World, which, as things now ſtand, is of no ſmall benefit.

L.

MONS. Domat, who has very good Reflections on the Nature of Society, and the Diſtinction of Ranks, gives us a view of the different Orders of Perſons who compoſe [166] the State or Commonwealth, as they are rank'd in his polite Nation. *They ſtand thus:

AFTER the general Diſtinction of the Clergy and Laity, in which the Clergy has the preference, the firſt Order among the Laicks is that of the Officers of the Army; the ſecond, the Council of the Prince; the third, the Adminiſtration of Juſtice; the fourth, the Finances; the fifth, the Sciences and Liberal Arts; the ſixth, Trade; the ſeventh, Handy-Crafts; the eighth and laſt Order, Husbandry and the Care of Flocks. He ſeems to make an Apology for putting Agriculture in the laſt place, and makes a ſufficient Encomium upon it; yet he adds, ‘"But as this Labour is very painful, and employs the greateſt part of Men, and removes them farther than any other from Ranks and Precedency, thoſe who exerciſe it are placed in the laſt Rank."’

THIS way of claſſing Men, we ſee, is pretty arbitrary: Domat ſays on Place, as if he had ſaid Cuſtom has ſo determin'd; and that's all.

Ae.

INDEED in all Nations there is ſcarce any other Rule of living than as Cuſtom determines; People ſeldom enquiring [167] any farther than whether a thing is done, or is not done? But to ſay nothing of the Hardſhips of putting Men in the laſt Rank, becauſe they have the moſt Toil, which affects only thoſe who work at the Plough and other Parts of Husbandry, and many other Trades have as hard Labour too; if Agriculture were to be conſider'd in the view of taking a Leaſe of a Piece of Ground, the Farmer may be look'd upon as a Party-Contracter with the Proprietor, and ſometimes he may be the richeſt Man of the two, and may do as little Work as his Landlord: in this caſe his Employment will ſcarce be reckon'd derogatory. And if there is any Honour in being independent, the Farmer is more upon that Lay than the Followers of the Sciences and liberal Arts. Illuſtrations upon this Head would not be very agreeable neither. But ſome Gentlemen's Sons would probably make more of their Patrimony by laying it out upon a good Farm, than in ſeveral Trades they take to; and if it once become faſhionable, it would have a double Advantage.

L.

SOME have made a Diviſion of Mankind into the good People, that is, the People of Faſhion, and the Mob. If this Diviſion has no great Foundation in Nature, it has a good deal in the Appearance; for it is very eaſy to diſcern who is of the Mob by one's Clothes. But Mr. Cowley, (if I remember [168] well) makes a Diſtinction between the great Vulgar, and the ſmall: and he has * Seneca's Authority upon his ſide. With theſe two and ſome others, 'tis the Qualities of the Mind, and not the Clothes, that raiſes Perſons from the Character of the Vulgar; but this reckoning would be a little dangerous.

THE Canaille, or Rabble, is another Term for the great Body of the inferiour People: 'tis much the ſame with the Mob or the Mobile, which denotes Inconſtancy and Giddineſs; and in this Character alſo many of the rich and faſhionable might be included. But the Mob ſignifies principally the Croud got together, ſometimes for bare Curioſity, ſometimes to make Diſturbance, and of which King William uſed to ſay, the Mob is not always in the wrong. Indeed the common People may be ſaid to ſee pretty exactly within certain Limits, tho' they cannot be ſaid to ſee far. The Canaille is moſtly applied to the Dregs, or the worthleſleſt of all.

Ae.

'TIS pity that People are ſo ready to look with Contempt upon others of an inferior Rank, which I ſuſpect they will do ſtill; but they would do well to reflect upon the Equality by Nature: tho' this may be [169] attended with ſome other Reflections a little uneaſy; for if they once begin, (ſuppoſing Pride to keep a while out of the way) they will probably regret the ſenſeleſs Faſhion of the World, which has ſeparated them from the great Body of Mankind, and ſo has deprived them of the Familiarity of ſome Perſons who would have made excellent Friends, had it not been for the Coarſeneſs of their Clothes. Marriage ſuffers by this Confinement as well as Friendſhip, and the Choice in that State is ſtill more confined thro' particular Views of Money or Alliance. 'Tis pity the Appearances of Good-Humour, (tho' ſometimes they are but Appearances) and the Reports of a good Education are ſo much neglected. I believe I have been upon this head before.

L.

YOU have ſo. I wiſh the World may not take you for a Leveller.

Ae.

YOU know I'm pretty cautious in declaring my Sentiments to the World. And truly any body will eaſily ſee, that tho' all Ranks by ſome Miracle were reduced, the Equality would not continue half a Day. And for the renouncing of Property, it will be reaſonable to wait till one ſees the Apoſtles, at whoſe Feet the Goods are to be laid.

L.
[170]

WE have as yet talked of the different Characters among Mankind, chiefly with regard to their Fortunes, and 'tis theſe indeed which make their natural Characters appear more remarkably; ſo that the ſame may be call'd natural and accidental both.

WITH reference to Religion: Every Body knows 'tis accident, for the moſt part, that makes us of one Religion, rather than another. 'Tis either the Religion of our Parents, or the Religion of the Times; and our Parents ſeem to have been determin'd the ſame way that we are. This is with reference to Forms and Syſtems. Thoſe Defects and Blemiſhes in Religion, called Superſtition, Enthuſiaſm, and the like, are owing to the particular Temper of Perſons, and not to the Syſtem they eſpouſe: for we ſhall find ſome of the ſame Profeſſion very warm, and others very indifferent.

THERE is hardly a Pamphlet comes out, that does not take notice of thoſe two Characters. Both the Superſtitious and the Enthuſiaſts, I believe, have a deſign of pleaſing the Almighty, and the Enthuſiaſts imagine they pleaſe him better than they do: the Superſtitious have more of Fear than Pride, and ſo they are rigid Obſervers of little things, without which they think there is no Salvation. Both Characters may meet [171] in the ſame Perſon, but 'tis the prevailing one that gives the Denomination. Enthuſiaſm is apt to deſpiſe all Obſervances, Superſtition to magnify and multiply them.

Ae.

THE Diſeaſe of Enthuſiaſm has more or leſs dangerous Effects, both for Society and the Perſons themſelves, according to the Tempers it ſeizes. If a Man whoſe Pride is not exceſſive ſhould fancy himſelf inſpir'd, or cloathed with ſome extraordinary Commiſſion from Heaven, the Government may be pretty ſafe from his Attempts: but if one ſhould think himſelf God's peculiar Favourite, and that his Commiſſion was given him on account of his ſingular Merit, or even tho' his Fancy ſhould not carry him to the Extremity of Inſpiration, if he but thinks himſelf a peculiar Favourite, it will be enough to make him ſet up for temporal Dominion, and fight, (if he have Courage) like John of Leyden.

BIGOTRY and Zeal may be call'd the Offſpring of Superſtition and Enthuſiaſm.

CARELESSNESS in Religion, is much the ſame as the having no Religion: it proceeds partly from Stupidity, and partly from the Love of Pleaſure. The Contempt of Religion is chiefly from Pride, or the Love of Independency. Hence, 'tis eaſy to trace the Sources of Atheiſm and Deiſm.

L.
[172]

IF the Atheiſts are ſincere in their Profeſſion, they muſt be very dull. The Deiſts may be ſuſpected of affecting more Unbelief than they have: nor can they be altogether freed of the Character of Dullneſs. But then their Antipathy at the Clergy, whoſe Poſt they envy either for its Eaſe or its Grandeur, added to the Pain they have to enquire any farther, makes them take up with very weak Arguments againſt revealed Religion. Sometimes they put on reſpectful Airs, and call it in Irony their moſt holy Religion, pretending to differ from thoſe Scepticks, who think * the holy Records were compil'd by an intereſted Party, in behalf of the richeſt Corporation or Monopoly that could be erected.

Ae.

THAT'S Shaftesbury. But theſe are poor Doings.

L.

BUT they're ſufficient to make a young Gentleman ſwear 'tis all a Trick, the Prieſts contriv'd the Bible. But I can never believe the Prieſts would have contriv'd it ſo well. If one ſhould ask the Lad what Prieſts did contrive it? the Popiſh Prieſts, or the Proteſtant? he will be a little at a ſtand, when 'tis told him the Books are older than Popery it ſelf. Again, if he reflects that [173] ſome of thoſe Books are called the Old Teſtament, and others of them the New; he will find the Old was in the keeping of the Jews long before Chriſtianity was heard of. It would perhaps be ſome loſs, if the Deiſts were hindered from writing againſt Chriſtianity; for their Arguments are ſometimes of more uſe to help a weak Faith, than ſome Arguments that are brought in its behalf. But in return for this Privilege of writing, they ought to do it in a fair honeſt way.

Ae.

VANITY and Ill-Humour being known to be the Springs of moſt of the doings of Men, there needs little to be ſaid concerning the Characters of moſt other Profeſſions. As every Man has got a particular Stamp from Nature, ſo every Trade or Profeſſion has its particular Air or Appearance: the Military Men have their Airs, the Clergymen theirs, the Courtiers theirs, and ſo on. There is alſo the Air of a Rake, and the Air of a Deiſt: but this Rank of Men are beſt diſcover'd by their Converſation and their Writings.

L.

IT may be ſome help towards keeping one's ſelf in good humour, to conſider the Equality of Mankind, both as to their Nature and their Proceedure, and to give allowance alſo for Accidents: if all deſire Eſteem, it can be no ſurprize that they take [174] the way to obtain it that appears to them the fitteſt. And if a Man happens to be remarkably ſaucy, perhaps he might have been leſs ſo in a different Poſt, or had he not been ſpoil'd with Flattery

Ae.

ALLOWANCES indeed ought to be given. And the Conſideration of natural Equality will likewiſe help People to ſome Humanity and make them wiſh at leaſt that every body were eaſy in their different Statious In this view there will be ſome care taken of the meaneſt Servant.

L.

ONE thing muſt indeed be granted, that if this Life be deſign'd as a State of Tryal and Diſcipline, the Inequality of Fortunes and Humours anſwers that End very well.

Ae.

'TIS very remarkable too, that the ſame Principle of Self-Love, which divides Men from one another, and produces ſuch a variety of fanciful Diſtinctions, ſhould yet in ſome meaſure unite them again, their Neceſſities making them ſubſervient to one another; and, which is ſtill more remarkable, the inferiour Ranks often ſerving their Superiours chearfully, and without the leaſt diſdain. Domat has very good Obſervations upon this Head, in his Treatiſe of the Law, ſhewing how out of Self-Love, which is the Poiſon of Society, God brings Remedies for [175] its ſubſiſtence. And there ſeems to be the like Impreſſion on the Minds of the generality of Mankind, very much to the honour of the divine Wiſdom, that God draws Order out of Confuſion.

L.

THERE is farther a certain Mildneſs to be obſerv'd in the Conduct of Providence, Sapientia diſponit omnia ſuaviter: by which Society not only hangs together, but the great Body of it, upon whom the drudgery of Labour is thrown, has an Equivalent of ſounder Sleep, and (generally ſpeaking) more Contentment.

Ae.

THAT divine Truth is of an extent that reaches to the whole Creation: à fine ad finem pertingit fortiter.

VIII. CONVERSATION.

L.

THE thing generally underſtood by Converſation is that grand amuſement of Talking, when People meet together, either by chance or deſign, to paſs the time; or, as the French ſay, to murder it. Drinking or Gaming does that pretty effectually: the former making the Converſation very tumultuous, as the latter confines it to narrow bounds.

Ae.
[176]

THE Perſons who have moſt time on their hands, are they whoſe indulgent Parents, or their own particular good Luck, have left them Rents to live on, without the neceſſity of working either without doors or within.

THE Labourers in the Field, and Tradeſmen (Handy-crafts, Mechanicks, Artificers) generally work the moſt part of the day; they eat their Meals with a good appetite, they ſpeak little, and ſleep ſound.

MEN of publick Employment, ſuch as Officers of State, Judges, Lawyers, Clergymen, &c. have more or leſs time for Converſation, according to the Nature of their Employments and their Diligence in them.

L.

IT were neither kind nor civil in this Argument, to forget the Women; for they can ſpeak too. But to ſay the truth, Idleneſs and ſpeaking for ſpeaking ſake is not their general Character: they are more active, more foreſeeing, and better Managers than we. If a fooliſh Education ſometimes ſpoils them (as whom does it not ſpoil?) the fault ſhould be laid where it ought.

BUT ſince there is ſuch an Equality in both Sexes as to the Operations of Self-Love, [177] that the ſame Principles only ſeem to act in a ſofter or rougher skin; the ſame Motives to Converſation, and the ſame Errors in it muſt prevail in both.

Ae.

THE firſt Project, before Vanity begins to ſtir, is to make Life eaſy; and this is founded on Self-Inſufficiency, as it may be called: but ſuppoſing People once met together, 'tis natural enough to endeavour to ſhine a little, and to be glad to be in ſuch Companies, where one ſhines moſt. Eſt quod gaudeas te in iſta loca veniſſe, &c.

L.

IT were too ſevere, however, to affirm that a Man never opens his mouth but out of vanity, and that he never goes into Company, but with the View of leaving a reſpectful Impreſſion of himſelf. Such Reflections wou'd lead to Melancholy. They ſerve but to imbitter Life, or at beſt to make it taſteleſs. Nor are they true in fact; for a great deal of that Talk or Superfluity of Words which ſeems to proceed from Vanity, is often but meer Habit or Infirmity. And juſt ſo in the caſe of Detraction, which tho' it ſeems to ſpring from Illnature and Vanity both, yet is rather a ſenſeleſs Cuſtom than any thing elſe: indeed the Duke of Rochefoucault ſays, 'tis more from Vanity than Ill-nature that we are Slanderers; which is a milder Conſtruction than he generally makes of Actions: but I humbly [178] think he might have been a little milder ſtill.

Ae.

THERE are certainly other Inducements to Converſation than Vanity and Ill-nature. There is Curioſity, Amuſement and Friendſhip. The Mind naturally deſires Knowledge, tho' there was no pleaſure in ſhewing it to others. That Curioſity which is the bare Itch of hearing a new thing, is much the ſame with Amuſement. But Friendſhip may concur with both, or it may be alone the Inducement of going into Company; there being a pleaſure in the very ſight of Faces, where no great Information is to be expected.

L.

To turn this Affair to ſome account, there muſt be a good deal of Familiarity, and ſome little Philoſophy. I believe we obſerv'd it before, that Horace lays down a very good Plan of Converſation, wherein he tells what his Friends and he talk'd of, and what they did not talk of. One cannot think of it too often.

Sermo oritur, non de villis domibuſve alienis;
Nec male necne Lepos ſallet: ſed quod magis ad nos
Pertinet, & neſcire malum eſt, agitamus: utrumne
Divitiis homines, an ſint virtute beati?
[179] Quidve ad Amicitias, Uſus, Rectumne trahat nos?
Et quae natura boni, ſummumque quid ejus? &c.

AGAIN,

Brunduſium Numici melius via ducat an Appî:
Quem damnoſa Venus, quem praeceps alea nudat;
Gloria quem ſupra vires & veſtit & ungit, &c.
Ae.

HERE is a good deal of Scandal and many frivolous things cut off, and uſeful things inſiſted on: but they would be too philoſophical for moſt Converſations. One muſt often hear Stories of a Cock and a Bull, and talk of them too, with an Air of Contentment, when one cannot make better of it. 'Tis in familiar Converſation, and chiefly between two, that free Sentiments can be exchang'd upon grave Subjects. In promiſcuous Company, ſuch Diſcourſe muſt be avoided, leſt it ſhould look like Cant, and give a Diſguſt.

BUT care muſt be taken in familiar Chat, not to fall into Detraction, to which it muſt be confeſt there is a natural Tendency, eſpecially when two Heads are got together. This Whiſpering puts one in mind of the [180] hiſſing of Serpents, and for the moſt part ſome body is ſtung. But in this there is much of Habit, as was ſaid before; tho' it is a very unlucky Habit, and often produces very bad Effects.

L.

AMONG the ſeveral Abuſes of Speech mention'd in the Government of the Tongue, there is none the Author deſires People more to beware of, than that of Detraction; giving this Reaſon for it, that few ſeem to be ſenſible of its Guilt. He ſays, ‘"many who would ſtartle at an Oath, whoſe Stomachs as well as Conſciences recoil at an Obſcenity, do yet ſlide glibly into a Detraction, &c."’ The good Author probably has had the Sex in his eye, when he mention'd the recoiling at an Obſcenity: But upon the matter, what is it but Obſcenity, that's ſo currently talk'd under the peculiar Term of Scandal? The talking of Baſtards has a great reſemblance of Obſcenity. What are the Scandals about Court, or in the neareſt Village, which will do juſt as well for Diſcourſe, but Obſcenity? And yet this is a great Subject of Converſation among much commended Women!

Ae.

AMONG Gentlemen, 'tis of uſe to have ſome knowledge of Hiſtory, the common News running ſoon out; whereas Hiſtory can laſt a while, and can be as little ſuſpected of Vanity as any Subject a Man [181] can talk of: for it chiefly requires the Memory, which few are ready to value themſelves upon, and it gives Opportunity to others in the Company to tell what they remember too; and even thoſe who have read very little, can keep their Countenance, by putting in a Word, or asking a Queſtion. But to dwell too much upon Hiſtory will not be diverting, and therefore Allowance muſt be given to ſomething that's more familiar, and tending a little to Mirth; with this Caution always, that it be at no body's expence, either in the Company or out of it.

L.

HERE a Queſtion might ariſe concerning Jeſting, whether it be conſiſtent with the Rules of Chriſtianity? Some are apt to conclude it is not, from the Words of St. Paul to the * Epheſians: But Fornication, and all Uncleanneſs, let it not be once named among you, as becometh Saints: neither Filthineſs nor fooliſh Talking, nor Jeſting, which are not convenient: but rather giving of Thanks, &c. 'Tis hard to underſtand the preciſe Senſe of the two laſt things to be avoided, at this diſtance of time; tho' the Chriſtians in thoſe days have been at no loſs to know it: but among us Fooliſh Talking is an undefin'd Expreſſion, and if nothing were to be admitted into Diſcourſe but what is wiſe, there would be [182] little talking at all. As to Jeſting, People are not agreed even about the Tranſlation of the *Word; it may mean either Scurrility, or Quaintneſs, or Buffoonery. Caſtellio tranſlates it Facetia, but Facetiouſneſs has not a hard meaning in Engliſh, nor do I know who can juſtly condemn it: I'm ſure very grave Perſons, and who have a great regard for Chriſtianity, ſometimes uſe it. On the other hand, who can take upon them to give formal Allowances, when they are not abſolutely ſure but it may contradict the meaning of an Apoſtle? For St. Paul, after he had exhorted the Epheſians to abſtain from bad Actions and bad Diſcourſe, tells them how they ought to employ their time, to wit, in giving of Thanks; which agrees with the Directions of St. James, Is any of you afflicted? let him pray; is any chearful? let him ſing Pſalms. But every body knows theſe Directions are not for common Converſation, wherein too great Gravity is to be avoided, as well as too great Liberty. How hard is it to keep the Midway! 'Tis Vanity to pretend to it: all we are to endeavour, is to keep as near it as we can.

Ae.

I think inſtead of inconvenient, (ver. 4.) our Tranſlators might have put unbecoming, or impertinent, which ſeems to agree better with the Greek Word. All I would infer, is, that there is ſuch a thing as [183] Decency, as well as Religion: and tho' we cannot now ſo well judge of what becometh Saints, yet we may know what is becoming or unbecoming to be ſaid in honeſt Company. And therefore all Traſh, Scandal, and Detraction will be carefully ſhunn'd, where the Taſte is not already vitiated by ill Habit: for it muſt be own'd, that ſome things have a Reliſh, or Smack, beyond others; as Scandal, in compariſon of common Prate: and even in theſe 'tis well known how much precious time is waſted.

L.

WASTED indeed!

Ae.

BUT as to Jeſting, when it has no worſe Tendency than to keep the Company in good humour, or from falling aſleep, ſome grave enough Perſons have not declared againſt it: and there may be as little Vanity in that ſort of Diſcourſe, as in any other. There is an advantage too, that to tell any merry thing ſaid by any other Perſon is all one to the Company, as if the Jeſt were the Repeater's own; and in this he only ſhews a little of his Memory, which generally ſucceeds better than when he endeavours to ſhew his Wit; as we find little Tales are more taking than Quirks, and Raillery, and other Things that are call'd ſmart.

L.

THERE is one thing that may juſtify a harmleſs Jeſt, and it is the natural [184] Diſpoſition Men have to laugh; which other Creatures have not, nor the Faculty it ſelf. Monkeys can grin, but it hardly comes up to laughter? I ſhall not however affirm, that it is one of the diſtinguiſhing Characters of a rational Creature, ſince it often ariſes without Reaſon, the Fancy being only tickled, and an unvoluntary, convulſive Motion produced, little better than coughing or ſneezing.

Ae.

SOLOMON ſays of Laughter, that it is Madneſs. We muſt allow, that beſides his inſpir'd Character, he was in a ſituation to know the value of things better than moſt Men, and had left nothing untried. It might therefore be concluded from his Words, that Laughing ſhould have no place in this Valley of Tears. But it ſeems more probable that the wiſe King ſpoke only againſt Exceſſes, and that he would not have refuſed a little innocent Laughter to poor heavy Mankind, no more than taking the Air to revive their Spirits.

I ſhall not ſet up to be a Caſuiſt; but we ſee in Fact, that one of the greateſt Plots in Life is to laugh: even drinking would go heavily down without it, tho' Men are not wholly indifferent about the Liquor neither; yet to laugh, ſeems more to be the End of their meeting, than to drink.

L.
[185]

BUT however allowable Laughter may be, it had need to be put under Regulations; and as to theſe, Prudence and Good Manners muſt judge, pro re natâ.

Ae.

THE moſt allowable as well as agreeable kind of laughing, is that which proceeds from chearful Good-Humour: the Perſon that laughs is pleas'd, and no body offended; the Satisfaction even runs thro' the whole Company. On the other hand, the Laughter that proceeds from Contempt, argues a Diſturbance of Soul, and gives a quite different Air to the Countenance: 'tis really an Effect of the Spleen, Nature taking that way to relieve it ſelf, tho' there is ſomething involuntary in it too; the Fancy being touch'd uneaſily, not tickled.

L.

A very diſagreeable kind alſo of laughing to the Beholders, is that which is affected, wherein the Fancy is not touched at all, and the Sides are only ſhaken artificially, or rather aukwardly; as well as the Face is put in a fooliſh Set, without any Charm or Life: ſuch is the Laughter of thoſe who ſtudy to pleaſe, Attendants upon Levees, Pages, Chamber-Maids, and many others.

Ae.

THAT which makes Boys and Girls, and generally young People, more [186] ready to laugh than the older, ſeems to proceed from the Temperature of the Body, as well as the State of the Mind; ſince we ſee all young Creatures are merry and ſportive. Care muſt be taken however, both in young and old, that this Mirth degenerate not into Inſolence and Deriſion; young Women arriving ſooner at their Wit and Mettle, are apt to laugh at young Men, and are great Obſervers in general of what is heavy and blundering, or any way ridiculous either as to Perſons or Things. Sometimes Children are corrected, but who ſhall correct the older? Mean time 'tis remarkable, that the Exceſs of Laughter is generally ſucceeded with Lowneſs of Spirits, Uneaſineſs, and Pain in the Breaſt and Sides; concerning which Mechaniſm, the Anatomiſts may be conſulted.

L.

IT were to make too great a Panegyrick upon Laughing, even the beſt ſort of it that can be imagin'd, to ſay that it gives the greateſt Pleaſure in Converſation; for People are truly better pleaſed, when the Underſtanding is well inform'd, than when the Imagination is tickled: and then a kind Word is more delightful than the greateſt Diſcoveries of Speculation. The Underſtanding and the Heart are very different Regions. Indeed in common Converſation a Laugh is the beſt Fruit we can propoſe to reap: but to be convinc'd there is no great [187] Excellency in it, we have but to conſider that 'tis only frivolous Things that make us laugh moſt; a Word out of joint, an odd Geſture, and the like. And which is ſtill more unphiloſophical, we ſometimes fall a laughing alone, on the Remembrance of ſome of thoſe out-of-the-way Things we have ſeen or heard. Nay, a thing will tickle the fooliſh Fancy, that was never ſeen nor heard before.

Ae.

WHAT ſhall we make of that readineſs to laugh, when one ſlips a Foot and tumbles over? We are even afraid he is hurt, and yet cannot refrain from laughing! In very ſmall Inſtances we may diſcover plain Evidences of our Diſorder.

L.

WHAT do you think of Smiling?

Ae.

SMILING may be called Laughter in its Infancy, and ſometimes it is moſt agreeable when it goes no farther. The Difference between a natural Smile, and an artificial, is eaſily perceived; for tho' the ſame Muſcles ſeem to be imployed in both, yet there is a Sweetneſs and Vivacity wanting in the artificial Smile, which one needs not go to the Drawing-Room to be convinc'd of, but may diſcover it upon all Occaſions.

L.

THE tedious Drawing-Room!

Ae.
[188]

IT ſeems Sneering is meant both of ſcornful laughing and ſcornful ſpeaking, and is far from being a pleaſant Thing. There is a Severity in it, as it expoſes a weak ſide, or a Ridicule, a thing that no body is reckon'd to be free of. 'Tis a ſtanding Maxim, that every Man has his Whim and his Ridicule. There is likewiſe national Ridicule as well as perſonal; and there is the Ridicule of every Profeſſion: but it belongs rather to the Play-houſe, than private Converſation, to lay open theſe Infirmities. 'Tis true, the Stage is ſeldom ſucceſsful in the Cure: but it is at leaſt of ſome uſe to let People ſee the Follies of their Neighbours, and if they will not look at home, the Stage cannot help it. But as new Queſtions ariſe at every turn, it may be ask'd who ſhall correct the Stage when it goes wrong it ſelf? I know no Cure for Dullneſs; but plain Immorality is a ſtaring thing; and the Wiſdom of the Legiſlature muſt take notice of that, the beſt way it can.

L.

As Hiſtory is among the proper Materials for Converſation, ſo the more particular the better: ſuch as Memoirs and Lives, if they be well done; becauſe the Nature of Man, and the Springs of Actions are there beſt diſcovered. Travels afford good Materials too, as the different Cuſtoms [189] of Nations, their Climates, and what they produce.

Ae.

WHAT ſhall become of Romances?

L.

IN ſome caſes I'm very unwilling to give a preciſe Anſwer; ſo I muſt ask again, who would part with Virgil and Milton? Was not Telemaque writ by the Biſhop of Cambray? Who would even part with Hudibras, and ſeveral other Performances? The old voluminous Romances are well out of faſhion.

Ae.

SOME Novels are even but dull.

L.

AS to the Attention that ſhould be given to frivolous Diſcourſe, 'tis enough if one appears to give attention to it; he may take ſome liberty of thinking with himſelf of what he has a mind, and a Nod now and then will be enough. There ſhould be ſome Appearance of Attention, or elſe it would be very mortifying; like what is told of the Prince of Lucca, who hearing a tedious Diſcourſe one day, of which he took little notice, and the poor Man, who began to perceive it, making an Apology for having ſpoke ſo much; anſwer'd, ‘"You need make no Apology, for I hardly know what you were talking of."’—This [190] was a little ſevere, but perhaps the Prince had reaſon.

Ae.

BUT 'tis much eaſier to know how to hear others, than what to ſay our ſelves. The Government of the Thoughts is previous to the Government of the Tongue. How ſhall the Wheel of the Imagination that's continually in motion, be either ſtop'd or regulated? But ſince the Tongue muſt talk of what is rumbling in the Head, it were to be wiſh'd, that every one ſhould empty his Head of the high Opinion of himſelf, and the Contempt of others. I think Cardinal de Retz ſays, ‘"A Man ought to be much upon his guard againſt the Pleaſure he is apt to take in Raillery; for upon many Occaſions it coſt the Prince of Conde dear."’ It ſeems, Contempt and Deriſion are very ill to digeſt: when 'tis to one's face, 'tis hard to ſhun a Quarrel; and when it is behind the back, it uſually comes round again, to the diſturbance of both Parties: ſo that Jeſting is often inconvenient, according to our Tranſlation.

L.

COMPLAINING is alſo a poor thing; and when groundleſs, very unjuſt, But as Affectation is ready to enter into every thing, theſe Complaints are put on, to procure Sympathy and a little Eſteem, as being the Due of a patient Sufferer. It is not [191] prudent however to be ſtill complaining, eſpecially of unkind Uſage, becauſe People may be apt to think there is not much in it, or that 'tis taking the firſt word.

Ae.

'TIS really ſtrange, how Affectation runs thro' our whole Behaviour! We are every thing by turns. We affect to be weak, and we affect to be ſtrong; we affect to be poor, and we affect to be rich; we affect to be temperate, and we affect to be debauch'd: the Deſire of Eſteem ſtill working in us, and producing it ſelf, as ſeems moſt likely to turn to the preſent account.

IX. BOOKS.

L.

HERE is another Amuſement, which thoſe that are at leiſure have more at their hand, than thoſe that are haraſs'd with hard Labour, or with Buſineſs. 'Tis true, a Book may be for more uſe than bare Amuſement; but that depends upon the Qualities of the Performance, ſome Books being good for very little.

Ae.

IF a Man were to conſider for what End Life is given him, quidnam victuri gignimur, he would readily enquire after the Books that could direct him beſt. But in this he is apt to meet with very different [192] Advices. If he be already ſworn to a Party, he muſt be directed by his Maſters; and if he's only to follow the Starts of his own Fancy, he can hardly have a worſe Guide. If again he is to ask Counſel from every Party, he muſt be much divided about what he ſhall chuſe. Here is one fixt Point however, as to Books of Religion, all Parties of Chriſtendom acknowledge one Book, which is called the Bible, as the Standard of all Belief and Practice: and tho' it is called but one Book, yet it is a Collection of many, and has a Variety of Subjects, which I need not enumerate. There is alſo a Variety in the Style, according to the Character of the Writers. That Irony does not ſignify much, *that in the Compoſition there is nothing miraculous or ſelf-convincing. A miraculous Style is a new Phraſe: but the Style of the Scriptures is by moſt People acknowledged to be natural, and by ſome even to be ſublime. Conviction muſt alſo come another way than from the Words of a Book: a ſelf-convincing Style is another Curioſity.

L.

BUT the deepeſt Objections are againſt the Authority of thoſe ſacred Books: I ſhould have called them Inſinuations rather than Objections, for generally they are [193] nothing elſe; and where any Arguments have been really form'd againſt any particular Book or ſingle Prophecy, they have been anſwered by very good hands, and the impartial Reader will judge whoſe Arguments are the ſtrongeſt. But for thoſe who acknowledge the Scriptures both to be Authentick and Divine, and who may want to know the beſt Rules of living in order to be happy in the next World, and even in this; ſuch Perſons, I believe, will find in that neglected Collection of Writings, what will be uſeful for both theſe Ends, and an Agreeableneſs of Style very diſtinguiſhing. I could name ſeveral Books wherein Plainneſs or Simplicity has been ſtudied; but the Authors have not been able to hinder the Art from appearing.

Ae.

WHEN a Perſon happens to have ſuch a Value for the Bible, he will of conſequence make it a good part of his Study; and will approve of other Books on Religion, as they ſhall appear to agree to that Standard. Let him dip in Commentaries and Sermons, and where-ever he thinks his weak Faith may be beſt aſſiſted. And tho' he may chance to think ſome of thoſe religious Books a little heavy, he ſhould not reject them all in a lump: for that which he may ſuppoſe to be the Effect of his delicate Taſte, may be in reality but the Weakneſs of his Appetite. Nor let him think [194] that Dullneſs is confin'd to the Labours of the Pulpit, and Works of Divinity; ſince not only the Workmen for the Stage, who muſt labour for their Bread, but even fine Gentlemen who might live at their eaſe, and yet labour for Eſteem, do often produce Works of great heavineſs. It is alſo to be conſider'd in behalf of the Clergy, that they are ſo limited to a few Topicks, and theſe often inſiſted on, that their Fancy has little ſcope to exert it ſelf, in compariſon of the Authors whoſe aim is Ridicule, and ſometimes Ribaldry, (things that rarely do well in a Sermon;) and ſo they whoſe Profeſſion is Seriouſneſs, muſt be at a conſiderable loſs, and therefore ought to have the Allowances that Juſtice requires.

L.

AFTER Books that treat expreſſly of Religion, thoſe of Morality have the next place. Perhaps Mr. Cowley, when he recommended to Dr. Sprat to publiſh nothing in his Compoſitions that might be offenſive either to Religion or Good Manners, has by Good Manners chiefly meant Decency; becauſe Morality has a higher meaning, and is a Part of Religion: and 'tis remarkable, that there was nothing found in the Works of that fine Gentleman, which a worthy Divine could have any ſcruple to publiſh.

Ae.
[195]

MORALS and Divinity are by no means to be ſeparated. And as to thoſe Writings that are properly called Books of Morality, 'tis among the old Philoſophers they are principally to be ſought after. Not to ſay but ſome of thoſe great Men have alſo left many Inſtructions concerning Religion, and Diſcoveries of the divine Nature; as a ſmall Acquaintance with Plato and ſome others will teſtify. Tho' Socrates wrote nothing himſelf (in which he reſembles the great Inſtructor of Mankind) yet we have his Sentiments and his Manner of Life recorded by thoſe who were familiar with him, and at the ſame time the fineſt Hands in the World. Epictetus wrote none neither, but we have that Loſs ſupplied by Simplicius and Arrian. Nor are the Poets to be overlook'd among thoſe ancient Writers, Morality being their aim too in another Dreſs. It would ſeem, the earlieſt Authors have wrote beſt. Horace recommends thoſe who were counted Ancients in his time, as being worthy to be read day and night.

AS to modern Authors, a Man is to make the beſt uſe of them he can, without diſparaging or over-valuing them. All Searches are painful, and much rubbiſh muſt be turn'd over before coming at the beſt Books, and before coming at what is excellent in ſeveral [196] Books that are not deſpicable. This I mean of ſome Books where Inſtruction is openly intended: where it is intended more covertly, the Authors have a better Excuſe to plead for the Rubbiſh that muſt be turn'd over. And the Reader's Intention being often Amuſement, he will ſtill find his account leſs or more, even in that View. All then, it ſeems, muſt be look'd into, even the common Performances of the Time. Wit is always Wit, and Dullneſs always Dullneſs.

L.

IT ſeems you have a mind to keep the Ballance between the Moderns and the Ancients.

Ae.

'TIS true: but I have ſome Biaſs to the Ancients. But, non noſtrum eſt tantas componere Lites.

L.

THERE is one Point in which a Reader has a conſiderable advantage of an Author; any Dullneſs he has is apparent, whereas the Reader's is beſt known to himſelf, unleſs he ſet up (againſt his Stars) as a Critick, and give his Opinion mal à propos. It may happen alſo, that what has been writ in good Humour, ſhall be read in bad Humour; which is another Diſadvantage of an Author. And there is ſtill ſomething expected that's new, which is a hard Demand upon one hand, and a fooliſh Pretence on [197] the other. Such Authors (who are to blame in their turn) ſhould mind honeſt Chaucer:

For out of old Fields, as Men ſaith,
Cometh all this new Corn, fro Year to Year;
And out of old Books, in good Faith,
Cometh all this new Science that Men lear.
Ae.

PRETENDING is very ſilly. When a Book is brought into another Language, 'tis a Tranſlation of the Words; and when the Thoughts of one Book are brought into another Book, this is but a Tranſlation ſtill.

L.

THERE can be no better Deſcription given of ſome Books upon all Subjects, than Ovid gives of the Chaos, for five or ſix Lines together;‘—rudis indigeſtaque Moles, &c.

BUT a Reader cannot always free himſelf either of want of Penetration or want of Attention; ſo that Authors have a harder Fate than is imagin'd.

Ae.

WRITING is indeed a tickliſh ſort of Affair: for the ſame advances by which one grows into a Familiarity with [198] the World, are apt to make him forget the Reſpect he owes it; and on the other hand, to bring him into Contempt with it.

L.

SINCE Amuſement is the great Deſign of Converſation, no wonder it is the Deſign of Reading: and why not of Writing? I think Horace calls it playing with Paper. Yet ſometimes he ſeems to have been weary of writing upon ludicrous Subjects*, and to have bid farewell to it, becauſe of ſome bad Conſequences.

Ae.

BUT Horace might have writ what he pleas'd, and have been pretty ſure of Approbation: others ought to risk but moderately. Nor can there be a greater Miſtake than to think of pleaſing People of quite oppoſite Taſtes, the ſincere and the ſcornful, the wiſe and the fooliſh. But there is a certain Incontinence of Fancy, which often proves too hard-mouth'd for the Judgment, as the Tale of a Tub honeſtly acknowledges. 'Tis pity Mr. Hobbes's Cautions upon this Head were not more obſerv'd than they are. A witty Man happens to let ſome Flings at Religion and the Scripture, for both which he has a real Value; and his Words are treaſur'd up by ſhallow Heads, and retail'd againſt his Intention. [199] But what Help? They have a mind to ſhine by the repeating, as the Author could not ſhun it in the writing.

L.

IN a Country of Liberty, whatever is publiſhed will be read; and it were hard to take away this Privilege, tho' it were practicable. As to that of Publiſhing, it muſt be left to the Diſcretion of the Legiſlature: and whatever Difficulty there might be in reſtraining the Liberty of the Preſs, there would be much more in reſtraining the private Uſe of Pen, Ink, and Paper; and therefore one would think it were not unworthy of the Care of the Government to appoint a moderate Sallary for ſome who have a little Scholarſhip and common Senſe, to enable them to tranſlate the moſt approved Books whether ancient or modern. This would keep them from a certain Theft, and tranſmit to us the Sentiments of thoſe Standard-Performances entire and unmixt.

Ae.

I wiſh that were done.

L.

THERE are two kinds of Books almoſt exploded a while ago, the voluminous Romances and School-Divinity. It was pity ſome of the School-men had not employ'd their Talents upon more ſolid Things, for they have been great Men, and had a Senſe of Religion; but their metaphyſical [200] Subtilties made their Writings of little uſe to the World, and ſerv'd principally to nouriſh Diſpute and Contradiction. The Writers of large Romances had ſome very good Ideas of Virtue; but all was loſt in tedious Narratives: and ſometimes they gave too favourable Ideas of Vice, as Revenge in particular. Our Novels deal moſt in Scandal.

Ae.

CONSIDERING the great Variety of Humours, 'tis no wonder there is the ſame as to Books. But when a Man reflects on the Variety in the former, it will hinder him from preſcribing or recommending Entertainments in the latter, concluding that People are generally beſt pleas'd with their own Choice. You will ſee, I have here chiefly in view the Books deſign'd for Amuſement. Harmleſs Raillery is univerſally acceptable. Gibing is pretty paſſable, and 'tis the more honeſt when it diſcovers itſelf in the very Title of the Performance; for inſtance, the Praiſe of Folly, a Tale of a Tub, and the like. If a daſh of unlucky Humour happens to mingle, 'tis what an Author cannot always help. Sneering is ſeldom taking, becauſe of the Air of Inſincerity that attends it: there is ſomewhat more agreeable even in Writings of profeſt Remiſſneſs, to uſe Mr. Hobbes's Expreſſion. I ſhall not ſay poſitively that all Books are to be read, but every [201] body will agree that many of them may be read with very little Attention. . . . . . . I'm ſorry I can't ſee you again for ſome days, being obliged to go a little into the Country.

L.

PRAY return as ſoon as you can.

Ae.

YOU know how uncertain all Things are: but I'll endeavour to ſee you in a few days.

TWO DISCOURSES ON DECENCY.

[]

DISCOURSE I.
Decency is the leaſt of all Laws, and the moſt obſerved.

[205]

THIS Reflection we have from an eminent Perſon, who knew the World very well; and it ſhews how much we ſtand in awe of the Opinion of Men. But whence comes it, that we are ſo very much afraid of what others will ſay of us, even when we have a very mean Opinion of their Judgment? Words are but imaginary Laſhes, and ſtill more when we do not hear them; nevertheleſs ſome would chuſe to undergo the ſevereſt Whipping, (if no body was to ſee it) rather than undergo the Laſh of Cenſure. And this dread of Cenſure goes yet farther: we are afraid of what others will think of us, as well as of what they will ſay.

[206] AND here 'tis all one, whether Decency has any real Foundation in Nature, or if it ariſes only from the Fancies of Men; ſince it is the Fear of Reproach that chiefly makes us avoid indecent Things, or what paſſes for ſuch in the Eye of the World: tho' it cannot be fairly deny'd that there is a real, as well as an imaginary Decency; as there is real, as well as imaginary Honour: and tho' the Reality of both is deny'd by a few Perſons; 'tis a great queſtion if they are in earneſt.

IT muſt be granted that Decency, whether imaginary or real, reaches no farther than the Outſide and Circumſtances of an Action, without rendering it either morally good or bad, virtuous or vicious. Decent is one thing, and Lawful another. 'Tis unbecoming to eat alone, when a Man can have Company, tho' no body reckons it unlawful: in ſome other Actions no Witneſſes are to be admitted, for very good Reaſons. And the Cynicks who had all manner of Decorum in ſuch contempt, only diſcovered their own Pride, and Ignorance of Human Nature, the Dignity of which muſt needs put our Actions under different Regulations from thoſe of inferiour Animals.

[207] IF any ſhould ask, How we make out this Dignity of human Nature? it might be anſwer'd, that the Power which Decency has in the World, is at leaſt a ſtrong Preſumption of ſome Reſpect, juſtly due to the Sentiments of our own Species; for we are not afraid of what Dogs and Horſes will think of us. And we may judge of this Power of Decency by its being ſuch a Reſtraint upon Pleaſure, ſometimes in the moſt Voluptuous.

DECENCY then owes its force to ſome tacit Conſent, and Conviction of the Dignity of Mankind. What may be call'd real Decency, has its Foundation in the natural Congruity of Things; and what may be call'd imaginary, depends only upon Cuſtom. If any has a mind to call it cuſtomary Decency, as being a ſofter Term, I ſhall eaſily go into it.

IT ſeems to be this laſt ſort of Decency, which the Duke de Rochefoucault calls the leaſt of all Laws; by which Term he would ſeem to have an eye to the great Obligations of Religion and Humanity, the Laws of the Land being tolerably well obſerv'd for fear of temporal Puniſhment. And ſome Things belonging to Religion are pretty well obſerv'd too, either to compound the Matter with our Conſciences, [208] or to get the Name of religious Perſons, or at leaſt to be call'd Obſervers of good Order.

THERE is even ſome Reaſon for obſerving cuſtomary Decency, or the Modes of the World, in things that are harmleſs, of inferiour Claſſes; becauſe an Affectation of Singularity muſt be Pride or Folly, or both. If a Man, for inſtance, living in a Country where they wear Hats, ſhould wear a Turbant, how impertinent would this be? In things that are not unlawful, nor too inconvenient, a Compliance ought to be given, both on our Neighbours account and our own. Why ſhould we offend others, or expoſe ourſelves to laughter for nothing at all? Indeed if the thing required by this Decency appears unlawful, (about which a Man's own Conſcience muſt be ſatisfied) he is to ſtand as firm as he can: and if the thing is too inconvenient (which muſt be determin'd by his Prudence) a Compliance in this caſe would be want of Senſe, as in the former it would be want of Religion. Altho' a Man is to wear a Hat, he is not obliged to have a new one every Week; nor to put Lace about it, unleſs ſuch Hats were as much the Faſhion as once were Shoulder-knots. But as ſome things are evidently fantaſtical as well as ſuperfluous, it would ſeem Deference enough to Cuſtom to comply with it, only [209] in things of the latter ſort; and a good Mixture of Folly will be found even in theſe. There is no help, one muſt be a little fooliſh, in a fooliſh World.

IT were much eaſier to lay down general Rules, than to point out all the Exceptions and Limitations that are to be made upon them. The World abounds in good Maxims, but the Difficulty lies in the Application. We ſee imaginary Decency often interferes both with Religion and Prudence, and often gets the better of both: but the greateſt wonder is, that even Pleaſure ſometimes ſubmits to it.

THE Matter ſeems plainly to ſtand thus: we are at more pains to pleaſe the World, than either to pleaſe our ſelves or the ALMIGHTY. The Foundation of all which is the vain Fear of getting a mean Character among the few Perſons that know us, or among thoſe that chance to hear of us.

'TIS true, there is a Deſire of Praiſe, as well as an Averſion to Reproach; but ſince they both produce the ſame good Behaviour, and may proceed from the ſame Vanity, 'tis a matter indifferent which of them be conſidered as the Foundation of Decency, that great Diſturber of Quiet and Pleaſure: as in another view it may be [210] called the great Security of our moſt valuable Poſſeſſions.

CIVILITY and Politeneſs are comprehended in this Notion of Decency we have been talking of, which is but a ſort of Tenderneſs for our own Character: But there may be a Civility really proceeding from a Fear of making others uneaſy, which may be call'd a Branch of Humanity, and is capable of continual Advances in true Friendſhip.

SOME Hints given by Cicero, who had the Practice of Decency much at heart, may be of good uſe to fix ſome Notion of the thing itſelf. Speaking of the Difference between the Words Oportet and Decet, he ſays to this purpoſe:* ‘"To be neceſſary, is underſtood of the indiſputable part of a Duty, or the Perfection of it, which is to be obſerv'd to all Men without diſtinction: and thus we ſay it muſt. To be decent, or when we only ſay, 'Tis fit, or proper, implies no more than the Sutableneſs of the thing to the Time or the Perſon; which, tho' it is to be underſtood moſt frequently of Actions, is to be underſtood alſo of Words, and [211] deſcends even to Looks and Geſtures. The Failing in any of theſe things is indecent."’

THIS great Man always diſtinguiſhes carefully between things of a perpetual Obligation, and ſuch as only depend upon Times, Places, and Characters; and he is ſo willing there ſhould be nothing wrong even in the ſmalleſt matters, that he has not forgot to mention the Air and Gait.

HE had but little occaſion to ſay any thing about Dreſs, and ſome other Points of Decency that perplex the World now, ſuch things being at that time under more ſtated Regulations.

IT would appear ſometimes as if the Apoſtles themſelves had not look'd on Decency as a thing altogether unworthy of their Care; for St. Paul ſpeaks of honeſt things in the ſight of Men. 'Tis true, the two Words which are tranſlated into honeſt and decent, and by ſome Perſons ridicul'd, are uſed promiſcuouſly by that Apoſtle; but they would ſeem in ſome places to denote ſomewhat of a lower Order than the Duties of Religion and Morality. Perhaps they may be conſidered as being oppoſite to ſhameful, when it does not imply moral Turpitude, but only ſome Impropriety ſhocking to the Eye; as when he ſays [212] it is a ſhame for a Man to have long Hair, and that Nature even teaches the ſame. No doubt this Inſtance has appear'd ſtronger at that time than it does now: but we need obſerve no more about it, than that there are ſome natural Congruities and Incongruities, neither to be call'd Virtues nor Vices, which Perſons of good Taſte muſt be more ſenſible of than others; and 'tis generally reckon'd, the Ancients had a better Taſte than the Moderns.

INDEED any body that knows the World but very little, will ſee how many Difficulties muſt ariſe from the fantaſtical Cuſtoms of Men, and their claſhing Opinions concerning Decency, now that Plainneſs and Simplicity of Manners are baniſhed the World. Some new thing happens every day, or almoſt every hour, to put one's Diſcretion to the trial; for 'tis impoſſible to have Rules for every thing laid down to our ſelves beforehand. We find Cicero, for inſtance, adviſing to treat People according to their Ranks and Offices, which is certainly a good Rule in the general. But how are we to treat thoſe Perſons whoſe Rank is not fix'd, nor their Office known? If their Fortunes are made, that is, if they have got ſome Money (the quantity of which is not fix'd neither) it is not uſual to enquire any farther, but to treat them according to the Value they put [213] upon themſelves; and we find they make their way into the greateſt Aſſemblies, of what kind ſoever. But as this Indulgence may be a good expedient to make ſuch Perſons eaſy, it muſt naturally make others uneaſy at the ſame time, who look upon the ill-plac'd Reſpect as if it were ſo much robbed from themſelves.

FOR as Decency reſpects not only a Man's own Character, but the Character of thoſe he muſt hold Commerce with in the World; the difficulty of obſerving it with reference to others, is often greater than with reference to one's ſelf alone. For tho' the World will meddle to judge of a Man's fulfilling his Character purely as to what he owes himſelf and his Station, yet in dealing with others, he muſt both ſatisfy thoſe that are not concern'd and thoſe that are; the laſt of whom will be ſo much harder to pleaſe, that they are Parties as well as Judges.

IN ſhort, there are ſo many little things to be obſerved under the Notion of Decency, that, as matters now ſtand, it is become a very troubleſome Affair. In the Inſtance of perſonal Reſpect, there ſeems to be a Contradiction between the Rules given by Cicero and St. James, which might be ſuch a ſtrait upon Chriſtians, as to make them free themſelves from very much [214] of the Burthen. *The Apoſtle forbids the Reſpect of Perſons in very plain Words, and gives a very plain Example of unjuſt Preference and Partiality. 'Tis true, the natural Tendency of this would not be to overturn all Civility, it would rather make it more equal and extenſive: For another Apoſtle bids us honour all Men . But the Face of Chriſtianity is ſo much alter'd ſince thoſe times, that in ſeveral Things relating to Politeneſs and cuſtomary Decency, I'm afraid we muſt follow Cicero rather than the Apoſtles; ſince it would be an ill-ſuted thing, and contrary to true Decency, to join the Forms of primitive Chriſtianity with the Spirit that now prevails, which may be call'd a modern Heatheniſm. I ſhall leave this Point without any further Explication.

THE firſt thing that occurr'd concerning Decency, was the Power it has in the Actions of Men, without regard to its Foundation in nature: but it ſeems there is a real Congruity in things, altogether independent on Fancy or on Cuſtom; and the Violation of this Congruity, or Order of Nature, is in ſome Caſes not only indecent, but abominable. If any body ſhould ask a proof of this Aſſertion, I know not how it could be prov'd by any thing clearer than itſelf. An Appeal may be made to [215] any Man in his Senſes, whether he is not perſuaded there is right and wrong in general? If any ſhould deny ſuch a Diſtinction, he would ceaſe to be a Member of Human Society; and all Correſpondence muſt be given up with him: as if one ſhould deny there is any difference between Light and Darkneſs, or bid us prove that we ſee and hear, we muſt take leave and part. Even thoſe who would pull up the Fence of worldly Decency, would introduce very wretched doings: but they will make very few Proſelytes, while the Deſire of pleaſing is ſo rooted in the Heart of Man.

MOST People are not only convinced of the Diſtinction of Right and Wrong in things of higheſt conſequence, but they allow it to take place even in Trifles. There are certain Demonſtrations of Civility, which are more or leſs ſhocking to the Eye: but as ſuch things are properly the Dancing-Maſter's care, ſo an Error as to them is not to be called Incivility, but Aukwardneſs. An honeſt Farmer may be a very civil Perſon, tho' he knows not how to make a Leg: and his clowniſh Behaviour is even more agreeable than finical Airs and Speeches.

SUCH things are indeed but arbitrary ſigns of Civility, and purely depending upon Cuſtom; tho' ſtill there is a better and a [216] worſe manner of performing them. And it were ſtrange if the Mind of a rational Creature, made for Truth and Benevolence, were not ſhock'd with things of an immoral kind, as well as the Eye is uneaſy to ſee ſuch frivolous Incongruities.

THE very word Bienſeance ſuppoſes there is a natural Fitneſs or Agreement, or ſomething that every body underſtands by the words proper, becoming, fit, ſeemly, and twenty more to the ſame purpoſe; which may have taken their Riſe from ſome ſenſible Ideas, as that of People's Clothes ſitting well or hanging well about them; the Taylor being here the great Law-giver. And hence Decent Pride has come to be a current Expreſſion, for 'tis certain that one Perſon's Pride has a more becoming air than another's.

TO ſay that all this proceeds purely from Cuſtom and Education, is to begin at the wrong end: for theſe are founded upon Decency, and not Decency upon them. Imaginary Decency will allow Cuſtom a large enough Province, but real Decency will allow it no Province at all. It ſtands upon it's own Foundation. And when Inſtances are brought from the miſerable Behaviour of the Hotentots, and ſuch rude Tribes, to overthrow Decency in all its Acceptations; the Objection can [217] have little weight againſt the general Senſe of Mankind in all Ages. Theſe poor People are certainly ill educated, and ſo are many of the Polite World in a different reſpect. Education is commonly but a ſervile Imitation of others; the Rule that Parents propoſe in bringing up their Children, being to make them mere Apes, as they have no better ſtandard of Life themſelves: and ſo the World goes on. But the miſtake is in ſuppoſing that Education conſtitutes the Beauty of Things, whereas it only helps us to ſee it; as a Muſick-Maſter may be ſaid to help the Ear to perceive the Harmony, at the ſame time that he teaches the Hand to play. And here indeed we ſee the force of Cuſtom very remarkably: the external Practice is not only facilitated, but the internal Reliſh is improved alſo. The frequent hearing good Muſick, and the ſeeing good Painting, improves the Taſte in both; and the contrary tends evidently to corrupt it.

NOR can this Influence of Cuſtom be denied in matters of Vertue, and even in Speculations. As ſome little things in Dreſs and outward Behaviour are call'd either Decent or Naſty, juſt as they happen to be faſhionable or unfaſhionable; many Perſons have hardly a better Rule either for their Opinions or their Practice. But as Philoſophy cannot pretend to account for [218] thoſe Impreſſions; all the uſe that ought to be made of the Obſervation, is to guard againſt bad Examples, and to think as freely and deliberately as poſſible. I have not deſign'd in any of theſe little By-reflections concerning the Dignity of Man, and the Order of things, to carry the Notion of Decency any higher than was given of it at firſt; that is, only as it affects the Circumſtances of our Actions, without making us innocent or guilty in the ſight of Heaven. 'Tis very true, that every thing that's ſinful is indecent, the leſſer being comprehended in the greater, but every thing that's indecent is not ſinful; and many things which the World would reckon indecent, are far from being ſo in reality. But the Vexation that ariſes upon Cenſure, or the Fear of incurring it, works ſo ſtrongly upon that Fund of Shame within Mankind, that they hardly do or omit any thing without putting the Queſtion (as it were) to themſelves, What will be ſaid of it? And it is well that this reſtraint is in the World.

THERE is indeed a true Shame, as well as a falſe: or rather, it takes its Denomination from the things we are aſham'd of. If they are contrary to real Decency, the Shame is juſt; either when we feel it or fear it: if they are only contrary to Fantaſtical Decency, the Shame is fooliſh. But [219] the Confuſion and Dejection of Mind may be the ſame, as People are ſometimes really frighted at a Shadow. The mauvaiſe Honte of the French often means Baſhfulneſs, which is much owing to the Complexion; the Blood being more eaſily put in agitation in ſome Perſons than others; and the Appearance it makes in the Countenance is far from being unbecoming in the Sex and in young Men.

THAT the Paſſion of Shame is peculiar to Mankind, is generally agreed on; as alſo that it is often the Reſult of Pride, another Quality peculiar to our Species. Fear and Fierceneſs belong to other Animals, but they are hardly touch'd with Shame, or capable of reflecting on the Conſequences of their Actions: all their Motions are ſudden, and they go directly to their Aim. If in their Anger they ſeem to deliberate before they attack, it muſt be from ſome Apprehenſion of getting the worſt: but in following their Appetites they have neither Reflection nor Remorſe. In which reſpect Mankind, are not ſo happy, who have their Pleaſure to gratify, and their Character to ſupport at the ſame time; and when the one or the other muſt give way, Decency pleads for the Character, and is ſometimes hearkened to, and ſometimes not.

[220] THE greater the Pride is, this Decency has the greater Dominion. We find every body complaining of the Tyranny of Cuſtom, which is, in other words, the Tyranny of Decency. But it gets a new Dominion from the Elevation of Perſons, or their Rank in the World: for tho' the meaneſt Perſon has his Pride and his Decencies to obſerve, yet they are far more numerous and troubleſome to thoſe in higher Stations, who, having for the moſt part little elſe to do, contrive many fanciful things, and ſubject themſelves and others to the Obſervance of them. And as the World is the School where theſe painful Rules are learned, the thing chiefly recommended is the Acquaintance of People of Faſhion; and the Advice is by no means to be deſpiſed: but it ſhould be remembred, that the World is alſo the School of Vanity, wherein Self-Love is more nouriſhed than either Virtue or true Decency, which may be call'd its Offspring; ſo that we ſhould look out for Perſons of Virtue and good Taſte, in order to form our Manners, as well as to make our few Days paſs with the leſs Chagrin.

OUR Quiet muſt certainly have ſome other Foundation than the Decency of the World, or we ſhall have no true Quiet at all. We may well hug our ſelves [221] a little in the Concealment of our Actions and Motives, and reckon it clear Gain what is thus hid from the Eyes of Men; but ſtill many Diſcoveries will be made againſt us, notwithſtanding our ſlaviſh Hypocriſy, ſo long as we have no better Principle than the Deſire of Men's Eſteem, or the Fear of their Reproach. Any body may conſider how poor a thing a Life muſt be that's ſpent in Grimaces and Airs, tho' Religion were out of the queſtion. Even our Obſervance of Punctilio's ought to be from the Heart, that is, from an honeſt Intention not to ſhock our Friends and Acquaintance. And upon that account chiefly the Treſpaſſes againſt Decency of all kinds are to be avoided: Singularity is very offenſive, as being a tacit Reprimand of the Behaviour of others; who fail not in their turn to call thoſe Singularities ridiculous, and they may really appear ſo thro' their Unuſualneſs.

'TIS always to be remembred, that we are to conſult the World no farther than as to our outward Behaviour: nor does it pretend to teach us the Rules of Virtue, but only how to ſhun Ridicule, a thing on the other hand we ought not to be too much afraid of, leſt we make a Sacrifice of our Virtue, our Convenience and all. There is the more reaſon for this Caution that the World is made up of ſo many [222] different Taſtes, that 'tis ſimply impoſſible to pleaſe all: This Man ſhall complain, that you uſe too much Ceremony with him; if you uſe leſs of it with another, he ſhall think you brutal; and perhaps the former Complainer would not have been ſo eaſy, if any part of it had been omitted. This is but one Inſtance: it is impoſſible to mention all the Treſpaſſes and Regulations in the Affair of Decency, and the Miſtakes People fall into by their injudicious Endeavours to pleaſe; very often miſtaking the Objects of their Civility and Complaiſance, as well as the right Proportion of the thing. If a Man ſhould be ſurly to his own Family, and his neareſt Friends, and obliging and frank with thoſe he only makes an Afternoon's Viſit to; this were no Argument either of his good Senſe or his good Humour, but would look like a vain Deſire of Applauſe from thoſe he has little to do with: and if a Woman ſhould fall into the ſame Affectation, it would be nothing to her praiſe. Husbands and Wives have certainly a Title to good Looks and good Words, as well as Strangers.

THE World will be a good enough School to form our Behaviour in many little things, to tame our natural Wildneſs, to ſmooth our Roughneſs, and even to qualify our Civility, that it may not dwindle [223] into formal Ceremony, or too ſoft Complaiſance: all which muſt bring Ridicule upon us, and 'tis the proper Buſineſs of this School-Miſtreſs (for ſo the World may be likewiſe call'd) to prevent that Mortification.

THE Severity of the School-Miſtreſs will hardly be complain'd of, when we conſider the Allowances that are given to gratify the ſtrongeſt Inclinations of the Heart. A Man is not found fault with for ſtriving to get as much Money as he can, or aſpiring after the higheſt Employments and Honours in the Commonwealth; he is rather blam'd if he omits any Opportunity of raiſing himſelf, or neglects any Pleaſure. All the Inſtruction the World gives, is to keep free of certain Blunders in our Conduct, and weak Appearances, which affect the outward Character, without any regard to Vice or Virtue. The neglect of that Inſtruction does expoſe us to the Severity of the World, which in different reſpects may be call'd tyrannical and gentle; and the higheſt Prudence is to know when to make it our Guide, and when to deſpiſe its Maxims.

DISCOURSE II.

Plerique Homines quos cum nihil refert pudet,
Ubi pudendum eſt, ibi illos deſerit Pudor.
[224]

AS Creatures of the ſame Species have commonly a Pleaſure in herding and flocking together; the like Pleaſure is found among Mankind, with the Deſire of mutual Approbation added to it. Solitude and Selfapprobation will not always ſupport us, nor will Company and our own Approbation do it ſeparately; we muſt often have the Approbation of others, in order to reconcile us to ourſelves. 'Tis true, there is one ſort of Pride, which will very much leſſen the Deſire of Approbation; that is, when a Perſon is throughly poſſeſt with an Opinion of his own Excellency. But this Pitch of Extravagance is very rare: inferiour Degrees of it will be enough to ſlacken the toilſome Purſuit of Applauſe, nay, if one is hot in the purſuit of any other thing, he will mind the Judgment of the Publick ſo much the leſs, and applaud himſelf, as the Miſer does when the People hiſs him.

[225] BUT as any Inclination is ſeldom ſo ſtrong as to make one renounce all views of popular Applauſe, ſo the too eager Purſuit of that Uncertainty, is called Vanity rather than Pride: Vanity denoting the emptineſs of the Thing, as well as the frivolous Temper of the Perſon. And thus ſome have made a Diſtinction between Pride and Vanity, giving us an Idea of two different ſorts of Men, thoſe who content themſelves with their own Approbation, and thoſe who are uneaſy without the Approbation of others. But perhaps the firſt Temper is not only very rare, but impoſſible in nature, and ſo the Difference is only in the greater and leſſer Degrees of Selfſufficiency, or in the way that Pride diſcovers itſelf in different Perſons. Thoſe that are fond of outward ſhow, or of making an appearance, are called Vain; thoſe that value themſelves upon their inward Endowments, Proud: but both Parties value themſelves, and both Parties may be called Vain, as both are really Proud; ſome proud of their native Ornaments, others of borrowed ones: and the very proudeſt can hardly be ſuppoſed free from the Deſire of Eſteem from others. They are indeed freer from Oſtentation, and their Deſire of Eſteem is more conceal'd; but pure independent Selfſufficiency is not a natural ſtate of Mind; and if the Notion ſhould enter the Thoughts [226] of any created Being, it muſt argue the greateſt Diſorder of the Underſtanding that's conceivable.

BY Self-conceit is meant a much inferior Diſorder, implying only an Opinion of one's own merit not well enough founded; and this ſtate of Mind is only chargeable with more or leſs Folly. But the ſimple Deſire of Approbation is neither chargeable with Folly nor Vice: for 'tis as natural to deſire the Approbation of others as their Friendſhip, tho' Friendſhip is the moſt delightful Poſſeſſion, and commonly draws the other after it: we always eſteem thoſe we love, tho' we don't always love thoſe we eſteem.

THERE are other kinds of Pride which belong not ſo naturally to the preſent ſubject, ſuch as the Deſire of Power or Deminion over the Perſons of others, and the Deſire of ſubduing their Judgment. The latter of theſe is moſt found in ſpiritual Matters, tho' a deſire of temporal Power may ſometimes be at the bottom. The Deſire of a little Triumph in Converſation is leſs extravagant, but more common, and ariſes almoſt upon every Subject whether grave or frivolous. But this Obſervation may be made, that according to the ſeveral kinds of Pride in Man, in conjunction with their ſeveral Tempers and Humours, [227] ſome are more inclined to Company, others to Solitude. The Purſuers of Fame muſt expoſe themſelves to publick view, coſt what it will; the leſs Oſtentive are more diſpos'd to Solitude. Thoſe again who are remarkably afraid of Contempt, will for that very reaſon prefer Solitude, thinking they make a good bargain * to renounce all the Good that others might ſay of them, upon condition they would ſay no Ill.

THIS Maxim (by the way) might infer ſome middle ſtate between Approbation and Reproach, which is not ſo conceivable; unleſs the ſaying nothing ſhould proceed from an abſolute ſuſpenſe of the Mind: but this is not uſual, moſt Minds being forward enough to pronounce Sentence one way or other, and moſt Actions and Motives being pretty evidently either worthy of Praiſe or Blame.

THERE is likewiſe a certain Diſtinction betwixt Approbation and Applauſe, the former being underſtood to be given by good Judges, and the latter by the Multitude. Applauſe will never be deſired where there is Wiſdom, and the Deſire of Approbation is only Pride when it is courted for itſelf, without deſiring a virtuous Diſpoſition. And again, tho' the Fondneſs for Reputation may be an Argument of Pride, [228] the Neglect of it will be no Argument of Humility, but of an abandon'd Character, or being without ſhame. But Man is not only under different Directions or Impulſes from his Pride, but alſo from his oppoſits Inclinations; theſe alſo varying according to different Circumſtances of Age or Fortune: ſo that our Motions muſt be very uncertain and irregular, and ſometimes our Opinions are excited by our Inclinations, and ſometimes our Inclinations by our Opinions.

THESE Reflections, and many more that will eaſily occur, may be of ſome uſe to diſcover the Foundation of Decency, as well as to ſhew wherein it conſiſts. If ſome things are naturally becoming, Men muſt be pleaſed to ſee them obſerved; and the Doer is pleaſed doubly, by his adhering to Nature, and his pleaſing others. There is Good-Humour and Complaiſance, as well as Vanity, in Mankind. But this very Complaiſance had need of Regulations, that it go not to an Exceſs; and, as things now ſtand, a little Pride muſt often come to the ſupport of weak Virtue. If it ſhall be called only the ſupport of a Character, it may be granted that the Aim often goes no farther: but then the Character may be reckoned at leaſt among the Out-works for the Defence of Virtue.

[229] RELIGION and Good Manners ſeem to expreſs all the Obligations Men are under. Natural Affection and Humanity, no doubt, are Obligations too; but they are included in Religion, as all the Duties are that concern our Neighbour. But by Good Manners People generally underſtand Morality, or Moral Virtue, which is reckon'd inferior to Religion, and yet is a higher thing than what is call'd Good Breeding or Decency; ‘"which, tho' the leaſt of all Laws, is more obſerved than any."’

OUR Obligations ſtanding in this Order, it may be thought ſtrange that the loweſt ſhould be ſo much minded, and the higheſt ſo little! All other Laws have a Sanction to enforce their Obſervance, Decency has not ſo much as the Name of a Law, and the Sanction of it is only Cenſure; and yet the Fear of incurring this imaginary Pain is ſometimes greater than the Fear of Hell. Many Perſons, I know, would take it very ill to have their Belief of a future State called in queſtion; but let them examine themſelves, and ſee how far their Belief affects their Conduct, and whether their Fears are not more awakened as to the temporal Confuſion than the eternal, and all the exquiſite Torments they believe are join'd with it.

[230] THIS Fear of Shame and Diſgrace contributes not a little even to the Obſervance of temporal Laws: it ſometimes goes farther than the Fear of Death. And where the Opinion of the World makes a crime extraordinarily diſgraceful, it is very rarely committed; as Theft among Men of Faſhion. If the Opinion of the World ſhould happen to change, the taking a Bribe would be as little hear of among ſome Ranks, as the picking a Pocket.

BUT as neither Opinion nor Cuſtom can alter the Nature of Things, there will ſtill be a Party (however ſmall) that will approve and blame according to Reaſon; and ſo Decency will be allowed all the Privileges it can juſtly pretend to, and no more.

COU'D a Man be contented with the Approbation of this ſmall Party, he would find himſelf conſiderably at eaſe: good Judges are not only juſt, but mild, ſo far as the thing will bear, and are not ſevere upon every little Treſpaſs or Punctilio. The Multitude indeed (by whom are meant the cager Followers of Cuſtom) are very indulgent in ſome matters of Conſequence, but ſometimes they cannot forgive the leaſt Trifle. Again, the great Body of the People, as they are almoſt without the Sphere of Decency eſtabliſhed by Cuſtom, [231] which does not dazle them; ſo they ſee better in Matters of real Decency, and abhor thoſe Crimes which the higher Ranks overlook.

IF this Diſtinction ſhould be quarrel'd, as if it were making two different Multitudes, or two Claſſes of the Mob; it may be anſwer'd, the Diſtinction is not new, and only ſhews that the Difference between * fine Clothes and coarſe can add no weight to the Judgment of the Wearers. And certainly 'tis a great Point gain'd towards a Man's Quiet, when he knows who are his proper Judges, and is indifferent about the Opinion of others. This (if one could get at it) is not going too far in Stoiciſm. Nobody would chuſe to be on the Rack to their Lives end; and a Creature that pretends to Reaſon, had need alſo to conſider what Life is deſign'd for, as well as what the beſt means are to make it eaſy.

NOW upon a very little Reflection a Man will find, that he has not been made to be a Mountebank, but to act a more ſolid part; to do what Good he can, and to endeavour heartily to acquire a Delight in all Virtues, in proportion to their value. And Delight, every body knows, makes a Facility in Practice.

[232] BUT this is ſtill to be remembred, that tho' the Delight in Virtue is ſaid to be acquirable; yet the Senſe of it, or the Faculty of reliſhing it, is brought with us into the World; as we bring the Faculty of Reaſon itſelf, which ripens by degrees, and all our Powers are improved or weaken'd by good or bad Management, to ſay nothing of the Foundation that's laid in this ſtate of trial for our future Happineſs or Unhappineſs.

'TIS true, Decency and Virtue have different Provinces; and the former may be ſaid to lie only within the Verge of this Dream of Life, wherein our Fellow-Paſſengers may indeed ſet up Tribunals to judge of our Behaviour, but we know all the harm theſe Judges can do us.

As we diſcover our Pride therefore by affecting an univerſal Eſteem, and our Cowardice by the Subjection we put ourſelves under; ſo in both Inſtances we diſcover our Folly, the thing in the world we wou'd wiſh to diſcover leaſt. We can put a plauſible Face on ſome of our Weakneſſes, and imagine other People will ſhew the like Favour; our Fear we can term Prudence, our Covetouſneſs good Management, and ſo of other Failings: but Folly is laugh'd at and hiſſed by every body; and when our own good Opinion forſakes us, 'tis natural to [233] conclude, that we are ridiculed by others: nay, ſometimes thro' the Diſorder of our Judgment we think we are more ridicul'd than we are, or that certain Practices and Omiſſions will draw more contempt upon us than poſſibly they can; and ſo we fall into the very thing we wou'd avoid, by our Apprehenſion of falling into it.

THUS Mankind, by miſtaking their Judges and their Duties, are ſtill upon the Rack and in conſtant Slavery; unleſs we ſhould except a very few Emperors; to whom no Rules are preſcribed but their own Will. But tho' we do not know all that paſſes in their Breaſts, we may preſume they have ſome Fear of Cenſure like other Mortals. Nor, if we turn our Eyes to the oppoſite and loweſt Rank, can we affirm that they have got over all human Regards: 'tis probable that even ſturdy Beggars are afraid of ſome Reproach among their own Gang.

WHATEVER be of that, we are pretty ſure the greateſt Rakes among Gentlemen have ſome Qualms about their Reputation; and tho' they talk and write againſt Decency, as if they wiſhed it were out of the World, and probably they do bear it a Grudge, yet they cannot ſhake off its Yoke, and are as much Hypocrites (in another way) as thoſe who pretend to have a value [234] for it; both Parties paying it a ſort of Homage, whether they will or not.

DECENCY, it ſeems, will triumph over all Ranks and Characters, and will be a conſtant Diſcipline to Mankind. But our Pride and Ignorance make it a greater Diſcipline than otherwiſe it would be. For if Virtue be agreeable to a Taſte that is not wholly vitiated, Decency will be agreeable too: it is not inconſiſtent with Virtue, but rather is inſeparable from it, as the Shadow from the Body.

VIRTUOUS Perſons therefore will obſerve Decency from the Principles of Virtue (the Love of Order, and true Civility) as the Vicious will obſerve it from Self-Intereſt: and ſo it may be look'd upon as a great Inſtrument for preſerving ſome Peace and good Order in the World; few Perſons being ſo thorowly virtuous as to need no reſtraints, and few ſo thorowly abandon'd as neither to be capable of Remorſe nor Shame.

PERHAPS it would be expected after theſe little Speculations concerning Decency, that ſome Inſtances ſhould be given of the Treſpaſſes againſt it. But as it would be but a diſagreeable Task, any Perſon of tolerable Senſe will eaſily know ſuch Treſpaſſes when he ſees them; and 'tis no advantage to have the Head filled with unlucky [235] Images. All Treſpaſſes againſt Virtue, are certainly Treſpaſſes againſt Decency, tho' the contrary Poſition does not always hold: but ſeveral things that are only look'd on (by ſome) as Breaches of Decency, are really Breaches of Virtue and even of Religion. If any Man among you ſeemeth to be Religious, and bridleth not his Tongue, but deceiveth his own Heart, this Man's Religion is vain *. But not to make the World worſe than it is, a great deal of the Humour of Detraction proceeds not ſo much either from Pride, or Malignity, as from a meer Habit of idle talking; till at laſt the Head becomes a Regiſter of Traſh and Scandal, and the Itch of Repeating increaſes with the Itch of Hearing. If this Apology ſhould not be kindly received, I ſhould be content to know another Source of the Errors in Converſation than either Vanity or Ill-Humour, or downright Folly; and there is ſometimes a Combination of all the three.

THE Inſtances of Indecency in common Converſation (which would make a very large Book) are not the only Treſpaſſes. We treſpaſs againſt Decency in moſt things we do for our pleaſure, and even for the ſupport of our Character: Tho' in things of this latter Claſs 'tis Cuſtom under the name of Decency that miſleads us; for if we are but told, that ſuch a thing is done [236] or not done, we enquire no farther. But as we are not to torture ourſelves with the Fear of being ill ſpoke of, we muſt even ſhun too great a Squeamiſhneſs, or the Fear of doing ill. Where Religion and Virtue are ſilent, common Senſe muſt determine the beſt way it can.

THE Sex have their particular Decencies, both natural and artificial, which they obſerve with great exactneſs. Decent Pride is appropriated to them: and tho' it is but a poetical Expreſſion, both Sexes being under equal Obligations as to Virtue, and under equal Reſtraints as to Vice, yet the Women have a right to value themſelves a little upon their native Charms and the outward Advantages of Fortune, that Men (who have more Ill-nature than they, and as much Vanity of another kind) may not look upon them as too eaſy a Conqueſt. Good Senſe and ſome Religion (to which Women are more inclinable than Men) will help to keep this Self-Eſteem of theirs within due bounds, that they may not forget their lovelieſt, and even brighteſt Character, Good-humour; nor appear without the Ornament of a meek and quiet Spirit. For it muſt not be forgot, that there is a difference between decent Pride and Decency itſelf, and it ſeems to be this: Decency is a certain Gracefulneſs in Actions; decent Pride is a Regard to Reputation, with [237] ſome mixture of Self-Eſteem not too obſervable: and it were good upon ſome occaſions that even Men had a little more of this Quality, till a better Principle takes place. If Self-Intereſt could be wholly ſeparated from the regard to Reputation, it would immediately be of the number of the pure Virtues; and if a Man had any view of being uſeful to the World, the more Reputation he has, the more he is uſeful.

PRIDE would get very little footing in the midſt of Applauſe and Approbation, if a Man knew himſelf well, and what he is in Soul and Body at his beſt. He would ſoon acknowledge the Truth of that ancient Expreſſion, Pride was not made for Man. The ſame Knowledge would inform him, that Applauſe is a dangerous thing for a Mind ſo eaſily puffed up. And as the Knowledge of ourſelves, and the Knowledge of the World are ſubſervient to each other, ſo by this latter Knowledge we find out the Difficulty and the Emptineſs of that airy Conqueſt; and by ſeeing the Ridicule that others fall into, we are ſomewhat on our guard to ſhun it; the Fear of Shame being as natural to us, as the Fear of Pain: and Shame is truly a Pain of the Mind, as every one that has felt it will acknowledge.

[238] THOSE who alledge that Shame is only artificially work'd up in human Nature, may as well alledge, that any other Senſation is ſo work'd up: the Fear of it indeed may be artificially excited in us, as the Fear of ſeveral things may be excited the ſame way: We may be afraid where no Fear is, as well as aſhamed where no Shame is; and we may be inſenſible both as to Fear and Shame, when we have moſt reaſon to be ſenſible of both, as the old Comedian has told us.

ONE might eaſily be led into a Diſſertation upon Shame (eſpecially from the words of the Text) deſigning only to make a few Reflections upon Decency; ſuch a Connexion there is between the two; and the different ſorts of Ridicule, or the Variety of ridiculous Characters are ready alſo to come into the Mind: but as ſuch Characters are without number, and are all Treſpaſſes againſt Decency, many of them are repreſented every day in Books of Wit and Humour, and even in Books of Divinity; ſo that the World may be well inſtructed in the ways of ſhunning Deriſion. And indeed all the Authors have reaſon for touching upon that ſtring, ſince the Fear of Shame is ſo prevalent with Men: 'Tis a thing that ſtirs very early, for even Nurſes endeavour to ſhame their young ones into [239] good Behaviour and Decency, before Reaſon is awakened in them; and it often has a good Effect, beyond the Threats of whipping.

THIS Senſe of Shame is often a promiſing Diſpoſition towards Virtue, and is a very agreeable Delicacy of Spirit. Impudence is Stupidity, 'tis the want of one kind of Senſe, or of ſomething implanted by the Author of Nature in rational Creatures. We ſee how carefully thoſe Decencies are obſerved, that relate to the Body, as if there was a Reſpect due even to it, and Men were conſcious of ſome Advantage in their outward Form: No Nation goes upon all four. The Body is not only covered, but adorned. 'Tis true, this may infer a Conſciouſneſs of Defect, and ſome natural Diſadvantages, which muſt be granted; but it is the part of Reaſon to ſupply and rectify all Diſadvantages, ſo far as it can. We even obſerve numberleſs Decencies naturally, without Art and Inſtruction, from a Senſe of what is beautiful as well as of what is unſeemly. If we hear ſometimes of poor doings, and great Degeneracy in human Nature, it needs give no more ſurprize than when we ſee a good Tree illtrain'd, or a piece of Ground over-run with Weeds. It happens on the other hand too often, that external Decencies are minded with an extraordinary Carefulneſs, when [240] there are horrid Treſpaſſes committed againſt Virtue.

A few Hints or Items well remembred, will ſave a multitude of Illuſtrations, that might be made upon this Subject of Decency. What follows is not propoſed to have the Authority of Maxims, but is offer'd only to the Conſideration of ſome Perſons who have not much leiſure to read large Treatiſes; and upon a very little attention, a variety of Reflections will ſpring in their own Minds in a ſhort time.

THERE muſt be a Fund to work upon, in concurrence with good Inſtruction.

MAN naturally loves Virtue and Decency: and when he is deceived, it is under an appearance of ſomething that's good.

WE are often led by meer Imitation, and often ruined by it.

DECENT, with moſt People, is but another word for Cuſtomary. Hence the interfering of Decency and Virtue.

DECENCY in Opinions is more properly Truth: in Inclinations and Actions 'tis Virtue and Goodneſs. But the common Province of Decency goes no farther than [241] the Circumſtances of Actions, or the Manner of doing them.

WE often fall into Extravagances and Follies, thinking to avoid what is reckon'd Indecent, and the Contempt that follows upon it; but more frequently we fall into theſe Inconveniences from the Humour of Diſtinction and Superiority.

THE Indecencies of Converſation ariſe from Vanity, Ill-humour, and a baſtard kind of Good-humour. This falſe Complaiſance appears much in the Cuſtom of Detraction: it goes on againſt the Abſent, becauſe 'tis ſuppos'd to be agreeable to the Preſent, who become the Abſent the next moment, and ſuffer in their turn.

PROFESS'D Indecency of any kind is Inſolence. Vanity is commonly the firſt Inducement to fooliſh talking. Thus ſmutty Jeſts oftener ſhew the Oſtentation of Wit than the Inclination to Lewdneſs; and impious Expreſſions are no ſure Argument of Unbelief.

AN Exceſs of talking of any kind is ſeldom free from the ſame Vanity.

MOROSENESS is the Effect of Pride, as if the Company was not worthy of our mixing with it. The Indecency lies in the ſullen Air.

[242] INDECENCIES in Apparel are as much ſhunn'd as any. Herein Cuſtom triumphs eminently: 'tis the chief Point of Uniformity among all Ranks and Parties.

IN all other Articles of Expence, that which is neareſt the middle muſt be Decency; the preciſe Point not being diſcoverable: the Extremes of High and Low are either call'd Extravagant or Sordid.

WE ſee of what uſe this inexplicable thing, Decency, is for regulating all our different Motions: it keeps our Pride itſelf in ſome order, tho' it be call'd its Daughter; and if it does not reſtrain our Inclinations and Averſions, it often hinders them from breaking out. It lulls our Spirits aſleep, and by turns rouſes them. In ſhort, Decency may be now reckon'd of ſuch ſervice in the Commonwealth, that without it the Judicatures both in Church and State wou'd have much more to do than they have; to ſay nothing of the Tranquillity it helps to preſerve in private Families.

AN ESSAY ON SELF-LOVE.
[245]AN ESSAY ON SELF-LOVE.

[]
‘Modus ergo diligendi praecipiendus eſt homini; id eſt, Qu [...] ſe diligat, aut proſit ſibi: quin autem ſe diligat, aut [...] ſibi, dubitare, dementis eſt.’

INTRODUCTION.

THE Diſputes upon this Subject have been very much increas'd (as it ſtill happens) by the different Acceptations of the Terms, which ought regularly to have been adjuſted before entering upon the Merits or Demerits of the Thing. Some Men have exalted Self-Love ſo high, as to make it the Source of the greateſt Duties, while others have look'd upon it as the Sink of all Wickedneſs! And ſometimes its greateſt Advocates, when they are preſs'd with Difficulties, declare plainly they meant no other thing but Self-Preſervation; which, if duly regulated, no body can have a good Reaſon to condemn.

[246] FROM this Obſcurity, and Contradiction, have ariſen new Diſputes concerning Human Nature; ſome making very unfavourable Reports of it, and others affirming it to be without fault. The former Party aſſert, ‘"That a Man is not capable of the leaſt Act of common Honeſty, or common Friendſhip, without a deliberate Proſpect of his own Intereſt as the prevailing Motive."’ And thus the ſelfiſh Principle, which may be compared to the dead Fly in the Apothecary's Ointment, is ſet up as the only Wiſdom or true Rule of all Actions and Deſigns! This is alſo a falſe Account of Religion, if we ſuppoſe Man to have a higher End than himſelf, or conſider Religion as the Duty we owe another Being, and a Being of ſuch Perfections as are only to be found in the Deity.

THE latter Party maintain the Principle of Diſintereſtedneſs ſufficiently: but as they deny the Infirmity and Corruption of human Nature, their Doctrine labours under inſuperable Difficulties.

THESE two Partys are diametrically oppoſite to each other in their Schemes and Opinions, agreeing only in their Averſion to reveal'd Religion, which indeed would be an uſeleſs Thing if either of the Schemes was true: a Creature ſo highly exalted, and [247] able to govern itſelf, needed no other Aſſiſtance; and a Creature ſo very low, and deprived of all Liberty, muſt be incapable of any Degree of Virtue.

THERE is a third ſort of Men, who admit the Difference between Right and Wrong, and ſhew likewiſe a great Reſpect for the Chriſtian Religion; I ought to ſay farther, that I believe them to be ſincere: but at the ſame time they are ſo violent Advocates for Self-Love, or the intereſted Principle, as to ſpeak of the pure diſintereſted Love of God in very unbecoming Terms.

SINCE any Controverſy that may ariſe in this Eſſay, is chiefly with thoſe who own Chriſtianity, I ſhall ſay little in behalf either of its Proofs or its Doctrine, both which have ſtood firm againſt the Attacks of more ſubtile Spirits than we have at preſent; my principal Deſign being in a rational way to ſhew the beſt and the worſt of Self-Love, and in what ſenſe it is to be underſtood, before it can be ſet up either as the Principle of Vice or Virtue.

SECT. I. Self-Love commonly taken in a bad Senſe: the D. of Rochefoucault's Account of it.

[248]

CUSTOM, which determines the Signification of Words, has generally put a bad meaning upon Self-Love; ſo that a Self-Lover is reckoned the ſame with an intereſted unjuſt Perſon, whoſe Intereſt or Pleaſure (in whatever Form it appears to him) will be his conſtant Aim, without any regard to the Rules of Equity.

WHEN St. Paul ſays, in the laſt days Men ſhall be * Lovers of their own ſelves, no body doubts but that he ſpeaks of a very remarkable Degeneracy. There Self-Love is put at the head of a great train of Vices, as if it was the Parent of them all: Lovers of their own ſelves, Covetous (or Lovers of Money) Boaſters, Proud, &c. We find alſo in St. Auguſtin's Confeſſions, an Account of a very extravagant perverſe ſtate of Mind, wherein Self-Love or Self-Complacency is carried ſo far, that the Perſon minds the pleaſing of no body but himſelf; and values himſelf upon thoſe Gifts he receives freely from God, deſpiſing [249] others who he thinks are not ſo privileged, and envying ſuch as are. Hence the Idea of ſpiritual Pride.

CONFORMABLE to theſe Acceptations of Self-Love, the French and other Nations generally underſtand by it Pride and all other ill Qualities of the Mind; but Pride moſt frequently. Selfiſhneſs is every where a vile Character.

AMONG the eaſieſt Acceptations of Self-Love is ſuch a Self-Complacency or Self-conceit, as is repreſented by the Fable of Narciſſus, and which is only conſidered as a Folly.: But it is accompany'd for the moſt part with Arrogance, and a Deſire of engroſſing all things. And thus Self-Love has become a current Term for Pride, (as was ſaid before) or another Word for corrupt Nature in all its Tendencies: at the ſame time 'tis a ſofter Word, and ſo has been introduced by polite Perſons, when they had not a mind to ſhock delicate Ears.

THERE is a maſterly Deſcription of Self-Love, ſuppos'd to be done by the Duke of Rochefoucault, as it now works in the Heart of Man: 'tis a ſmall Book, and very much known. He begins thus, *Self-Love is the Love of one's ſelf, and of all things for the ſake of one's ſelf. After which Definition, [250] he proceeds to mention the Effects. It makes Men Idolaters of themſelves, and would make them the Tyrants of others, if Fortune gave them an Opportunity. This ſuppoſes the total Subverſion of our Duty, both to God and Man: we not only act as if we were independent of the Almighty, but we ſet up ourſelves to be worſhipped in his ſtead; and are not only careleſs and unmindful of our Neighbour's Intereſt, but make a Sacrifice of it, and him to our own. Such is the Modeſty of Self-Love!

MEAN time, the firſt part of the Definition, Self-Love is the Love of one's Self, gives us but little Diſcovery; and the ſecond part of it is not quite ſo proper: for the Love of Things for our own Sake, implies only a Deſire of them, as being ſerviceable to us, the Love terminating upon ourſelves. And thus ſome have blunder'd, who confound Self-Love with the Love of Pleaſure, or any thing the Heart is ſet upon. And ſometimes *Pleaſure, and Intereſt, and Happineſs are all jumbled together, and made convertible Terms for Self-Love; which is a greater Confuſion ſtill. But this Criticiſm has nothing to do with the Duke of Rochefoucault's Account of Self-Love, who ſeems only to have intended to give a Repreſentation of that Principle in its various Shapes and bad Conſequences. Accordingly, [251] he next conſiders it in its Impetuouſneſs, its Subtilty, its Refinements; and adds, that it is often inviſible to it ſelf: that it hatches and nouriſhes an infinite Number of Inclinations and Averſions, ſome of which are ſo very monſtrous, that it cannot believe them to be its own Brood. He ſays, it is made up of Contradictions, and can act the moſt contrary Parts; proud and fawning. It changes its Purſuits of Glory, Riches and Pleaſure, according to our Complexion, and the Changes of our Age and our Condition: but it is equal to it, to have many Purſuits, or but one; for it can divide itſelf into many, or contract itſelf into one, as it has a mind. He gives a View of its Inconſtancy, both as it proceeds from the Inſufficiency of Things which pleaſe us, and our own natural Changeableneſs. He ſhews its extreme Poſitiveneſs, which makes a Man do the moſt fantaſtical Things, and even ſuch as are hurtful to himſelf, for no other Reaſon but merely that he may gratify his own Will. And this gives the Idea of poſitive blind Self-Will; Inſtances of which are very frequent in Life. He concludes, that Self-Love is found among all Ranks, and in all Conditions: it lives every where, it lives upon every thing; nay, it lives upon nothing! It finds its account even in the moſt rigid Auſterities, hoping (it ſeems) to get the Reputation of Sanctity in exchange. This, (ſays [252] he) is a lively Repreſentation of Self-Love, the continual Agitation whereof may be compared to the reſtleſs ebbing and flowing of the Sea. The Prophet Iſaiah makes uſe of the ſame Image*; the Wicked are like the troubled Sea, when it cannot reſt, whoſe Waters caſt up Mire and Dirt.

FROM that Deſcription of Self-Love, (abridged as it is) we may form an Idea of it, as of a bottomleſs Gulph, out of which iſſue thoſe three Rivers of Pride, Covetouſneſs, and Senſuality; as there is nothing that proceeds out of the corrupt Heart of Man, but may be reduced to one or other of thoſe impure Streams, or, as Mr. Paſcal calls them, thoſe Rivers of Fire. All that is in the World is the Luſt of the Fleſh, the Luſt of the Eyes, and the Pride of Life.

SECT. II. The Change made on SELF-LOVE, by the Fall.

AS the Fall of Adam is concluded by all Chriſtians, (from the Authority of ſacred Writ) to have made a ſtrange Alteration upon all the Powers and Faculties of human Nature; ſo Mr. Paſcal gives different Accounts of Self-Love before the [253] Fall, and after it. He ſays*, ‘"Man was at firſt created with two kinds of Love; the one for God, the other for himſelf: but with this Condition, that the Love for God ſhould be infinite; that is, without any other End but God alone; and that the Love for himſelf ſhould be finite, and leading to God as the End. [rapportant à Dieu.] Man in that State not only loved himſelf without Sin, but he could not lawfully have ceaſed to love himſelf. When Sin enter'd into Man, he loſt the firſt of thoſe Loves; and the Love of himſelf, having remain'd alone in that great Soul of his, which was capable of infinite Love, this Self-Love ſpread itſelf, and overflow'd the vaſt Space which the Love of God had forſaken: and thus he loved himſelf alone, and all things for himſelf; or, in other Words, he loved himſelf infinitely."’

THIS Suppoſition of the Fall makes the Injuſtice of Self-Love certainly no leſs than it was before, and the Folly of it infinitely greater. If Man was to love himſelf when he was uncorrupted and intire, only with ſuch an inferiour and ſubordinate kind of Love as Mr. Paſcal repreſents, ſhall he love himſelf now in his Corruption and Miſery, with ſuch a ſupreme and ultimate Love, as if he were the Deity itſelf? [254] This is a thing that even ſome of the Deiſts exclaim againſt, as the higheſt Extravagance; and it is ſhocking to common Senſe, tho' Chriſtianity were out of the queſtion.

WE ſee Mr. Paſcal does not pretend to account for the Fall of Man, but only tells by way of Hiſtory, ‘"That when Sin enter'd, his Condition was ſo very much changed, that he is now overſpread, as with a loathſome Diſeaſe*."’ But what Idea can we have of Sin? 'Tis but a negative thing: We can only conſider it as an Apoſtacy, or ſome perverſe State of Mind, which has brought ſuch Miſeries upon Man, and all things about him. And what is this Apoſtacy, but ſome Defection in our own favour, the Source of which ſeems to have been Pride? And Pride is but Self-Eſteem, forgetting the Original from whence all good things are derived, and ſo tranſgreſſing every day as at firſt: but it may now (according to the common Phraſe) ſee its Sin in its Puniſhment: We ourſelves, and whatever we may be ſaid to have commerce with, being reduced to ſuch extreme Infirmity and Diſorder! The Charity alſo of the great Author may appear in changing the State of Things from what they were, that ſo Man might have wherewithal to be undeceived, both from within himſelf, and from the Defects of the inferiour Creation.

SECT. III. What may be call'd lawful in SELF-LOVE, from ſome of its improper Acceptations.

[255]

THAT Art or Addreſs, which the Divine Wiſdom has implanted in every living Creature for its own Good, is often call'd Self-Preſervation, and ſometimes Self-Love; tho' it is thus common to all Animals, and is no more than an Impulſe or Determination towards their own Safety. Every Animal is dear to itſelf, without thinking of it; and at the approach of any Danger, we find a ſudden Effort uſed for Self-Defence; as when we are falling, we naturally throw out our Arms. The want of this Care and Addreſs would be Stupidity.

THE ſame Divine Wiſdom, which is alſo call'd Nature, has added to the Impulſe of Self-Preſervation, another Impulſe in every living Creature towards its Eaſe or its Delights. And tho' in rational Creatures we hear much of a Deſire of Happineſs, and they actually have it; yet it operates often without Reflection, or any deliberate Project and Deſign. If this Deſire be call'd natural Good-Will to ourſelves, Self-Affection, [256] or even Self-Love, there is no harm in any of the Terms, if we but allow of a Principle of Good-Will towards other Creatures upon their proper account, as well as upon our own; that is, if we allow of a Deſire of Good to them, as well as of Good to our ſelves. In both Caſes the Benevolence, or Deſire of Good operates firſt; Reaſon ſerving to direct us in the Choice of proper Objects, and the Means of Happineſs.

IN rational Creatures, (when they act rationally) the Deſire of Happineſs is the ſame with the Deſire of Perfection. Here is meant the higheſt Happineſs. When a Man diſcovers the Dignity of his Nature, he immediately wiſhes to arrive at all the Excellency he is capable of: and his Good-Will to himſelf, far from being extinguiſhed, is put under new Regulations.

THE Queſtion at preſent is not, how we come to diſcover our Dignity, whether by our own natural Light, or a ſupernatural? All the Deſign is to ſhew that the Deſire of Happineſs in general, was before that Diſcovery, and continues after it, independent of Reaſon; the due Exerciſe of which, would indeed inform us that our Happineſs muſt be founded in the diſintereſted Purſuit of Truth and Juſtice.

SECT. IV. The Deſires of MAN, conſidered more particularly.

[257]

WE may therefore conſider in Man, theſe ſeveral kinds of Deſire. 1. A Deſire of ſimple Exiſtence. 2. A Deſire of Eaſe or Indolence: 3. A more poſitive Deſire of Pleaſure, either for the Body or the Mind; and, 4. A Deſire of Perfection or true Happineſs, which is only to be found in the Love of the Sovereign Beauty and Goodneſs. The three firſt Deſires are natural, and can only be call'd criminal, in ſo far as Injuſtice or Vice enters into them: the fourth muſt have been natural to Man in his original State, tho' it is not ſo natural in the preſent; and therefore now appears to be rather a divine Deſire, than a natural: ſo rare and ſo languid is the Deſire of Perfection! Nor, ſuppoſing it to be in the ſtrongeſt Degree, would it be virtuous; unleſs it were animated by the Love of Truth and Juſtice.

IT muſt be remember'd, that the Idea of Love implies more than ſimple Deſire: it ſuppoſes ſome Acquaintance and Notion of the Object, which it eſteems, and with which it deſires to be united: 'tis a ſecret Attraction, and the Pleaſure or Charm is [258] derived from the Object. Whereas Deſire is here ſuppoſed to be only blind Appetite, in which the Underſtanding has no ſhare, and the Value of the Object is not conſidered. It muſt be remember'd too, that even Love, the more it is ſtruck with the Beauty of the Object, will ſtill act with leſs Reflection on itſelf, and ſtill have its own Intereſt leſs in view. This may be apply'd to Love in general, which is often call'd blind, as well as Deſire: but where the Object is ſuppos'd worthy of the Affection, blind is too harſh an Epithet; ſince no more can be meant, but that the Heart is captivated, and, only if it be unreaſonably ſo, is the Love to be call'd blind or blinded.

BESIDES the ſeveral Deſires abovemention'd, Nature has farther implanted in us, a Deſire of the Approbation of others, our own not being ſufficient to ſupport us; which ſeems to be founded on a tacit Reſpect, that all Mankind have for one another, or a Conviction of the Dignity of human Nature. With all which Deſires there is a Self-Complacency, almoſt conſtantly ſuppos'd to attend us, and to have been wiſely given to reconcile us to our low State, and to ſupport us againſt the Contempt of others. But the Self-Complacency here ſuppos'd to be without fault, is a quite different Thing from that which was ſpoke of in the foregoing Sections, as implying either Folly [259] or Arrogance, or both: and the Deſire of Approbation is an additional Tye upon Men to obſerve the Rules of Humanity, and all good Order.

NOW as the Gratification of all our lawful Deſires (lawfully purſued) may be call'd our true Intereſt, ſo this Intereſt cannot properly be call'd Self-Love; becauſe a very great Degree of that Principle may be found in the Purſuit of Things altogether deſtructive. If it ſhall be ſaid, ‘"That it is not a right Self-Love that makes Men purſue ſuch deſtructive Things,"’ it may be ſaid juſt as well, ‘"That it is not a right Pride, or a right Covetouſneſs that makes Men purſue them:"’ which would not be a very ſignificant Way of ſpeaking.

SECT. V. The two Principles of ACTION, or the oppoſite Sources of VIRTUE and VICE.

IN rational Creatures there are but two Principles, or two Sources, to which all deliberate Actions are reducible, viz. Self-Intereſt and Diſintereſtedneſs. If we ſeek for the moral Good or Ill of an Action, the Virtue or Vice of it, we muſt have recourſe to one of theſe two Principles. What a [260] Man does merely for his own Ends, has no ſhare of Virtue in it: on the contrary, the ſole Motive of Intereſt, rather ſtains an Action that's otherwiſe materially good. To uſe a plain Inſtance, if I do a Man a good Office, to receive in return either a good Office from him, or a good Character from the World, no body will reckon this a Virtue. We may therefore conclude, ‘"That the Virtue or Worth of an Action is only to be rated by its Diſintereſtedneſs."’

IT is not indeed in our power to put things always to that Touchſtone, and we may be impoſed upon by falſe Appearances: but we know well in the general, whence the Worth is derived, and fail not to pronounce Things both worthy and worthleſs, when no Intereſt of our own can poſſibly determine us. Friendſhip has been accounted a ſacred Thing all the World over: Whence can it have that Character, but from the Diſintereſtedneſs conceiv'd to be in it? And however intereſted the common Friendſhips of the World may be, yet every Man in his particular Profeſſions thereof diſclaims any View to Intereſt; being ſenſible that a Friendſhip founded upon that Bottom, is but mere Traffick and Merchandiſe.

THIS ſhews the general Senſe of Mankind, as to the Speculation of the Thing, [261] from which we may conclude the Reality of it; and it is not eaſy to conceive how that can be good, which every body is aſham'd to own. Even Horace, who was no extraordinary Divine, ſeems to intimate to us, that we ought to examine ourſelves upon the Motives of our Friendſhip, that we may diſcover * whether we are engaged by Profit or a better Principle. And he had reaſon: For the Deſire of any thing merely for its Uſefulneſs to us, implies that we have no more Regard for it (to uſe the Words of another Poet) than for the Desk we write upon.

IF virtuous Actions thus derive their Value from their Diſintereſtedneſs, the Baſeneſs of vicious Actions muſt be from their Intereſtedneſs. For Contraries cannot come from the ſame Principle, no more than ſweet and bitter Waters from the ſame Fountain.

VICE, and Sin, and Wickedneſs, are but different Words for the ſame Thing: they certainly imply ſome great Corruption [262] and Injuſtice, two other Words or Qualities, the Source of which we can find no where, but in Self-Regards or Intereſtedneſs. No Man*, ſays Saluſt, is wicked for nothing. When we are unjuſt, it is ſtill ſome way or other in our own favour. The Scripture ſays of Ahab, ‘"That he ſold himſelf to work Wickedneſs."’ So in many Inſtances of Corruption, Men may be ſaid to ſell themſelves, even when the Abominations are not ſo heinous: but there is ſtill ſome Intereſt or Bait preſuppos'd, to induce them to make the wretched Bargain.

SECT. VI. The Corruption of SELF-LOVE farther conſidered, with reſpect to all VIRTUES, and FRIENDSHIP in particular.

THO' I was againſt the making a Jumble of Self-Love with true Intereſt, ſo as to make each of the Terms ſtand indifferently for the other; yet Self-Love and Self-Intereſt may be convertible without any confuſion: that is, when a Perſon is ſaid to act from Self-Love, he may be as well ſaid to act from Self-Intereſt, or from the Principle of Intereſt; the View of his [263] own Advantage (whether he act prudently or no) being his Principle, and often his ſole Motive. And this leading Motive, or Intereſtedneſs, is frequently enough expreſt by the ſhort Word Self: as, ſuch a thing has a great deal of Self in it, and the like. But to paſs to what is more material.

IF Self-Love be not the ſame with Corruption, in things relating to Virtue, at leaſt it may be reckon'd the Cauſe of the Corruption. Men often talk both of Corruption and Integrity, but can neither define the one nor the other: and 'tis no wonder, ſince 'tis as hard to give a Definition of Sweetneſs and Bitterneſs, or ſuch things as ſtrike the outward Senſes. But we ſee in fact, that a Man led by his own Intereſt will ruin every thing committed to his Truſt, when he can do it with impunity, and will even venture on the higheſt Puniſhment and Infamy when the Temptation is great. This made Mr. Paſcal ſay, Le * moi eſt haiſſable: ‘"Self is a hateful thing, both becauſe it is unjuſt in making it ſelf the Center of all things, and oppreſſive to others, in deſigning to ſubject them to it ſelf: for every ſelfiſh Man is a common Enemy, and would be the Tyrant of all others if he could."’ Again, ‘"Our Inclinations ought to ſtand towards the Publick: and this Byaſs towards ourſelves, is the firſt [264] Spring of all Diſorder, in War, in Politicks, in Oeconomicks."’

'TIS this Byaſs towards ourſelves, which ſpoils all. In War it makes Diſputes about Command, and juſt ſo in Politicks; and even in Church-matters, the Deſire of Preeminence is a great Spring of Diviſion. The ſame ſelfiſh Byaſs is the Ruin of Domeſtick Affairs, not only as it occaſions what is call'd bad Oeconomy; but, which is of more importance, as it deſtroys the tendereſt and cloſeſt Unions.

AN older Author ſays ſtronger things yet of the ſelfiſh Principle, calling it by the Names Self, Me, Nature, the old Man; and affirms it to have been the Cauſe of Adam's Fall, and the Devil's before; both having affected to be ſomewhat, and arrogated to themſelves, what they ought not. 'Tis a ſmall Book, entitled the German Theology, and much eſteem'd by Proteſtants and Papiſts.

BUT to come lower down, to the Damage that Friendſhip ſuffers from Self-Love; it can hardly be better illuſtrated than by * Arrian upon Epictetus. He makes Friendſhip as uncertain as the Agreement among Children or little Dogs, who play together very cordially till ſome Bone of [265] Contention is thrown among them: and he adds, that Fathers and Sons will be divided in the ſame manner, if they chance to interfere in their Amours, or in any thing elſe. He alſo gives the Inſtance of Eteocles and Polynices, two Brothers who were brought up together, and lived in the ſtricteſt Friendſhip till the Sweet of Dominion ſet them by the ears, and made them fight hand to hand, and kill one another on the ſpot: 'Tis indeed unneceſſary to go to old Examples.

THE ſame Philoſopher ſays farther, that ‘"if Men take it in their heads, that the Gods are oppoſite to their Intereſt, they curſe them and overthrow their Altars."’ But his Deſign ſeems to be far from advancing the intereſted Principle, or the Byaſs towards ourſelves: He only ſhews how this Selfiſhneſs is ſo rooted in our Nature, that if we ſhall make a Separation between Intereſt and Virtue, we ſhall of courſe run to the ſide where we think our Profit lies: for this, he ſays, is dearer to us than all things; this is our Father, our Brother, our Country, our God. Arrian therefore, like the reſt of the Stoicks, applies himſelf chiefly to direct the Underſtanding; thinking if it was rightly inform'd, all the Work was done: but it is eaſier to make the Underſtanding ſee what is right, [266] than to make the Heart adhere to it; according to the famous Exclamation,

—Video meliora, &c.

THAT honeſt Confeſſion of ſeeing the Good, and approving it, and yet doing the Ill, is alſo made by St. Paul himſelf, when he ſays, the Good that I would, I do not; but the Evil which I would not, that I do, &c. A lively Repreſentation of our Inconſiſtency, and the War ariſing upon it in the Mind.

IT ſeems very plain, that whatever Reliſh we may have of Virtue in our preſent State, we are not neceſſarily determin'd by it; as our natural Byaſs to Vice is not ſo ſtrong neither, as to deprive us altogether of our Liberty. But it is no leſs plain, that, being blinded and corrupted as we are, a ſuperior Principle, Grace, or whatever it be called, is abſolutely neceſſary for expelling that Poiſon, wherewith Self-Love has one way or other infected and confounded us.

SECT. VII. NATURAL LOVE conſidered under different Denominations.

[267]

AS all Love implies both a Deſire of obtaining the beloved Object, and a Delight in it after it is obtain'd; Self-Love in the firſt of theſe Views is Nonſenſe, and in the ſecond, 'tis the next thing to Deluſion: nay, if the Complacency exceed the due Bounds, no Deluſion can be greater. 'Tis ſilly and fooliſh in the eye of the World.

BUT there are three ſorts of Love, all granted to be natural, and even reaſonable; our Love to our Children, our Love to the Sex, and our Love to our Friends. If any of theſe Loves is right, or what it ought to be, Self-Love is wholly out of doors: at leaſt, the more perfect they are, it has proportionably the leſs place. A Father loves his Children by a happy Inſtinct (or whatver it be call'd) without a View either of Profit or Pleaſure from them; for, as * Cicero ſays, we wiſh them to be happy after we are gone. The Pleaſure that may follow upon loving, is by no means the Cauſe [268] of the Love. Nature has wiſely and kindly deſign'd that every Man ſhould take care of his own Children in the firſt place: the Care and Affection of Mothers is yet more remarkable: and what Tenderneſs is there obſerved, even in Nurſes! The Love of Children to their Parents, not being ſo much determin'd by Inſtinct, has been ſometimes call'd Piety.

AS to the Inſtinct by which Parents are ſaid to love their Children, a burleſque Queſtion has been ask'd, viz. If this Love be an Inſtinct free of Selfiſhneſs, whence is it, that they feel that Inſtinct for other People's Children, when they believe them to be their own; and on the contrary, feel no ſuch Inſtinct for their own, when by Accident they are ignorant of the Relation? If a ſerious Anſwer was to be given, this perhaps might be it, That the Queſtion makes neither for Selfiſhneſs nor againſt it, and that in ſuch Caſes, Nature is hoodwink'd; but ſtill the End is obtain'd, which is the caring for the young helpleſs Creatures.

THE Love to the Sex is a more delicate Article. Every body knows what the Deſire of continuing their own Species leads them to: this is hardly to be call'd Love; and if any will call it Self-Love, they muſt allow other Animals the ſame cool, deliberate Motives of proceeding. 'Tis plain, that [269] when a Man is heartily in love, all Self-Conſiderations (Proviſions and Settlements) muſt yield; and the Lover will purſue his Aim, unleſs an extraordinary Principle of Juſtice, or Regard for the Perſon, make him lay it aſide. And this too is honourable for Love, that the Mind is firſt engaged by the Qualities of the Woman: If Fancy now and then gives the Object a Value, which in reality it has not, this is ſtill another thing than Self-Love; the Man is taken: and there ariſes not only a Deſire of poſſeſſing, but he feels a Tenderneſs as a Parent does for a Child; and for proof of this we may appeal to * Catullus. Whatever the Body may claim for its ſhare, this cannot be ſaid to proceed from Reflection; but is rather a kind of mechanical ſweet Impulſe.

LOVE then is a Concurrence of Ardor, Reſpect, and Tenderneſs. But ſome People ſeem hardly to have a right Notion of any ſort of Love, when they ſuppoſe we muſt ſtill be reaſoning and reflecting in it, with a View to our own Intereſt. An old Naturaliſt ſpeaks more Senſe upon the Love he treats of:

Unde feritur eò tendit—

[270] AND 'tis remarkable that Lucretius's Metaphor here agrees with the modern Philoſophy of Gravitation. And indeed St. Auguſtine ſpeaks of Love in general, as a Weight or Force by which we are carry'd: Amor meus, pondus meum, &c. But it ſeems the Love of our Philoſophers ſits very light upon them: they think they may put it in their Pocket, like their Gloves.

THE Love that enters into Friendſhip, is only free of that Ardor which tends to the Sex, but is accompany'd with no leſs Reſpect, and little leſs Tenderneſs, ſave what the Weakneſs or Delicacy of the Sex calls for at the hands of the ſtronger. But the Power of Love among Friends is ſufficiently known, and remarkably expreſs'd in theſe Words of Moſes, If the Wife of thy Boſom, or thy Friend whom thou loveſt as thine own Soul, &c.

'TIS evident now, that wherever Love enters, the Delight is from the Object, not from Self: the Perſon is delighted, or pleaſed, but the Pleaſure is not from himſelf; ſince he receives it from ſomewhat elſe. If they ſay he ſtill loves the Object from Self-Intereſt, or his Intereſt is the Cauſe of his Love, this is contrary to Nature: and as Horace ſeems to reject the Suppoſition in the Caſe of Friendſhip, Cicero is more expreſs [271] and full upon it. *He ſhews excellently, ‘"That Love is the Principle and Motive which engages us in Friendſhip: that Intereſt or Profit may be made even by a Friendſhip which is but acted; but in true Friendſhip all is for the ſake of the Friend, all is free, genuine, and real. Therefore (adds he) Love appears to be founded on Nature, and not on our Neceſſities and Occaſions; on a certain Reliſh and Bent of the Soul, (applicatione Animi) rather than any Thoughts of reaping Profit. That tho' Intereſt may attend Friendſhip, yet it is not the Aim of it. But (he ſays) moſt People chuſe their Friends, as they do their Cattle, to make a Gain of them; and therefore have no Experience of that moſt beautiful and natural Friendſhip, by which we love a Friend for himſelf, and cultivate Friendſhip for its own Value. That, in ſhort, as we love ourſelves without a View to any Reward at our own hands, we ought to love our Friend after the ſame manner: for to love one, is to cheriſh him for his own ſake, without any Regard to our own Indigence or Intereſt."’ Much more will be found to this purpoſe, in that excellent little Treatiſe upon Friendſhip. He ſuppoſes all along that Virtue or perſonal Worth is to be the Cement of Friendſhip, and the only thing that can render it durable: and he reckons the Charms of Virtue [272] ſo great, that we cannot but love it, even in thoſe we have never ſeen, and can never hope to ſee, and from whom 'tis impoſſible we can receive any Advantage.

THE only Evaſion ſome have fallen upon, is, that we love for the Pleaſure we find in loving; and ſo 'tis ſtill (ſay they) Self-Intereſt at the bottom. But this, as it would take away the Diſtinction of Vice and Virtue, and imply a fatal Neceſſity, without leaving any thing to Reaſon; ſo it is plainly a miſtaking the Effect for the Cauſe: we are attracted firſt, and ſeiz'd on by the Object, without Deſign upon either ſide; unleſs on ſome Occaſions, where certain agreeable intelligent Objects are ſaid to lay Traps for Lovers, by ſhewing their own Charms: but then this Forwardneſs of appearing, which the Sex is ſometimes accus'd of, proceeds more from Curioſity and a Deſire of Amuſement, than of exciting Love, or even of drawing common Admirers. But this is a Speculation foreign from the Purpoſe: whatever be in it, the natural Attraction, whether Love or Friendſhip, is accompany'd with a certain Sweetneſs in which we are but paſſive, and can challenge nothing of it as our own Contrivance. Pleaſure is the Reſult of Friendſhip, not the Inducement to it.

[273] NOW if the Conſtitution of our Nature is ſuch, that Pleaſure is inſeparable from loving our Friends, and doing them friendly Offices, this is the Contrivance of our Maker, and we cannot alter our Frame: nor have we any reaſon to wiſh it altered, becauſe our Maker ſeems thereby to have deſign'd that Self Love ſhould be ſwallow'd up by a more generous Principle, in which our Nature finds its account, without laying a Plot for it. And as Generoſity conſiſts in giving, not in receiving, our Saviour declares, that to give is more bleſſed. At this rate one would think Friendſhip ſhould not be ſuch a Rarity, ſince ſo much Pleaſure attends it: But let Self anſwer for that. 'Tis enough for us to have the agreeable Conviction, that our Nature is capable of a finer Caſt; and they who would reſolve every thing into ſordid Intereſt, do only argue from the Abuſe of our Faculties, without a right Knowledge of the natural Uſe of them.

SECT. VIII. Of other Engagements of the AFFECTION.

[274]

BESIDE the three kinds of Love mention'd in the laſt Section, there are other things more properly call'd Attachments than Love; ſuch as the Concern about one's Family, ſeparate from the Love to Children, and the lawful Concern we ought to have for our Poſterity and Kindred, which lies in the Deſire of having Repreſentatives, and keeping up a mere Name. We ſhall hardly diſcover a Foundation for this Love in Nature, unleſs it be ſaid to proceed from an Abhorrence of Extinction, or from an Anxiety that at leaſt a Sound ſhould remain after us to keep us from being forgot. Pride will affect that this Name ſhould be highly regarded, becauſe of its ſeeming Relation to our Perſons; and ſo we wiſh our Repreſentatives to be Rich and Potent, not ſo much for their Conveniency, as our own Glory.

TO this ſort of Love, the Love of our Country is frequently ſacrificed. But there is a nearer kind of Self-Love, which gets the better even of it: for we ſee good Eſtates play'd away, or otherwiſe ſquander'd, according to the Humour of the Proprietors. [275] And theſe will be call'd no extraordinary Diſcoveries.

THE Love of our Country has more of Nature in it than the former, as if it was an Inſtinct planted by the great Ruler of the Earth, that all the habitable Parts of it might be inhabited with Contentment, and improved to the utmoſt, without wandering to finer Climates, and diſlodging other People: and we ſee how alluring the native Soil has been in all Ages. But the Love of our Country farther implies (and with greater Reaſon) a peculiar Affection and Concern for the Society wherein Providence hath placed us; as if we look'd upon it as the Houſhold we belong to, and which we are therefore chiefly to care for, (the general Law of Humanity always obſerved) as being its moſt immediate and proper Members. However, if that kind of Self-Love, which aims no farther than the preſent Gratification of the Perſon, gets the better of the Concern for the Family; 'tis no wonder the Concern for the Country is ſo much forgot, and look'd upon as an old-faſhion'd ſimple Thing. The wife ſelf-loving Man has no Country, no Family, no Friends; but where he can eat beſt, or make the greateſt Figure, there he lives.

THERE is a Love which had almoſt been paſs'd over, viz. Party-Love. It owes its [276] riſe to Self-Love plainly enough, whether it be conſidered as an accidental Agreement of Opinions, or a Combination of Intereſts and Deſigns, without any Cement of Virtue, or Regard to Truth. And tho' we ſee this Attachment to Party ſometimes producing ſtrange Offices of Friendſhip; yet it muſt be a very ambulatory Affair, according to the various Changes of our Situation or our Humour.

THE ſhort Concluſion may be this, that Friendſhip is the Soul of all Relations, and the Soul of it is Diſintereſtedneſs.

SECT. IX. The Meaning of Diſintereſtedneſs. Two Sources of NATURAL VIRTUE.

PERHAPS it will be thought ſtrange that Diſintereſtedneſs, being but a negative ſort of Term, implying only an uncorrupt or unſelfiſh State of Mind, ſhould yet be mention'd as a poſitive Quality, and call'd the Soul of Friendſhip. To anſwer ſuch People in their own way, it may be maintain'd that Diſintereſtedneſs is really a poſitive Term, as well as a poſitive Quality: for Intereſtedneſs is but the Negation of Integrity, and Diſintereſtedneſs is the taking away that Negation: an intereſted Perſon is generally taken for an unjuſt Perſon.

[277] BUT not to dwell upon Words: if Man was originally upright and uncorrupt, by the Removal of the oppoſite Qualities, he is reinſtated in his primitive Integrity; ſo that an uncorrupt Man is the ſame with an upright Man, and Diſintereſtedneſs but another Term for Uprightneſs. This way of ſpeaking therefore, when the Matter is well conſider'd, will paſs both with Chriſtians and Deiſts; for both Parties ſuppoſe Man to be originally upright, the latter only denying his Defection from that State. And moſt Chriſtians, tho' they acknowledge the ſad Effects of the Fall, yet do not deny that there remains ſome Senſe of Equity, and ſome Fund of Good-Nature.

THERE ſeems to be a natural Love of Juſtice and Order, as there is of Proportion and Harmony. We are pleas'd with a fine Character, as well as with a fine Picture, or fine Muſick. 'Tis true, the Heart is properly call'd the Seat of Love: but the Underſtanding has its Objects of Pleaſure too, and what pleaſes is loved. The Underſtanding not only ſees, but it approves, and Approbation implies Delight. Let us ſay plainly, every Man has a Senſe of Equity and fair Dealing, whatever Stretch we may make in our own favour; and every Man is well perſuaded of the Difference between Right and Wrong, independent of Education [278] and Example. As in things relating to the external Senſes, no Man can be taught to ſee or taſte; ſo no Man can furniſh another with a Senſe or Reliſh of Virtue: all that teaching can do in this Caſe, is to lay things before the Mind in ſuch a way as it may perceive either the Beauty, or the Deformity of them, by its own native Force. Inſtruction, no doubt, is of great importance, as it helps to cultivate thoſe innate Powers of the Soul, that * Vis inſita, as Horace calls it: but that's another Affair.

TO return, a Man feels when the Rules of Equity are broke to his own prejudice, and he ſees when they are broke to the prejudice of his Neighbour, if the Injury is done by a third Perſon; for he does not always ſee it when it is done by himſelf. Thus the Prophet accoſted David under the Parable of the Ewe-Lamb, which made him ſee his Error immediately, and his Conſcience was convicted.

Mr. Hobbes himſelf does not deny there is ſuch a thing as Right and Wrong; he only ſays, ‘"the Doctrine thereof is perpetually diſputed both by the Pen and Sword; whereas the Doctrine of Lines and Figures is not ſo."’—And he gives a very good Reaſon for it juſt after. ‘"Becauſe [279] in this Subject Men care not what be Truth, as being a thing that croſſes no Man's Ambition, Profit, or Luſt."’ A Frenchman would have put l'Amour propre for all: but the Principle ſtill holds good, that Truth, and Juſtice, and Virtue, are naturally agreeable to the Mind, when it is free of Byaſſes in its own favour: and the Character of an honeſt Man will be as lovely as that of a Scoundrel will be hateful; which it ſometimes happens to be even among ſuch Folks themſelves.

THIS Senſe or Reliſh of Virtue, without any View to Self-Intereſt, is one Source of moral Actions; tho' often very unable to produce them, as was obſerved before, Sect. VI. To which this may be added, that our Inclinations not only hinder us from following what our Reaſon ſees to be good; but they confuſe and darken it in the firſt inſtance, making it often take the Ill for the Good. But we are here ſuppoſing Reaſon, or the underſtanding Faculty to be free of any Influence from the Inclinations, in which caſe it ſees and judges of things within its Sphere diſtinctly enough; and ſo may be call'd one Source of diſintereſted Actions or human Virtues.

WE may obſerve farther, that beſide that Reliſh or Approbation which the Mind gives to Truth, either after a Proceſs of Reaſoning, [280] or a more inſtantaneous Perception, there is ſtill in Man, fallen as he is; a Fund of Compaſſion or Tenderneſs, operating in a more warm and feeling manner, without any help of Reflection. And this is another Source of diſintereſted Actions, ſeated in the Heart (as the former is in the Underſtanding) which yet being but a happy Conſtitution of Soul, a Man is no more to value himſelf upon it, than upon bodily Health.

PERHAPS Benignity had been a fitter Word than Compaſſion, to expreſs that affectionate Temper which prompts Men freely to do good to others: but Compaſſion came firſt up, and in the preſent diſtreſs'd State of things, every Man is ſome way or other an Object of it; ſo it may be taken for a general Inclination to relieve and aſſiſt. However, Benignity has a more extenſive Signification, not only importing Pity for the Afflicted, but a Deſire to ſee every body happy, and an Endeavour to make them ſo: and ſuch a Temper muſt extend to the whole ſenſible Creation. The juſt Man is merciful to his Beaſt.

WHOEVER then has any thing of this compaſſionate Temper in him, (as none but a Devil is ſuppos'd to be wholly void of it) ought to cheriſh it carefully: for 'tis a ſurer and a more fertile Principle of good Actions [281] than that wherein the Underſtanding is only engaged. Moſt Men can love better than they can reaſon: and thus they are to blame who talk of Pity as a contemptible Thing; as Seneca call'd it the Defect of little Minds: but this great Man was carried away by a falſe Philoſophy, which did not allow what was due to the Affections, and would needs ſet up for an unnatural ſtiff Compoſure that was good for nothing, even ſuppoſing it to be free from Grimace. Benevolence generally implies a Warmneſs of Heart, and care ſhould be taken that be not too cool; otherwiſe it degenerates into Indolence.

NO doubt the warm Temper ought to be regulated by Diſcretion. A Judge, for inſtance, is not to be prevail'd on by more Tenderneſs for one Party, than the other; but muſt give the Subject in diſpute to the Perſon whoſe Right is cleareſt, tho' the other may be more neceſſitous: and Merit is not in the queſtion neither. Again, in giving charitable Aſſiſtance, a Man is not to ſtrip himſelf in favour of the firſt Object he meets; but to proportion his Charity ſo as none may juſtly complain for want of a Share, and that Mercy may agree with Judgment. As to our reſerving for our own Occaſions, Self-Love will readily take care of that.

SECT. X. Some Acceptations of CONSCIENCE.

[282]

CONSCIENCE is either the Senſe of Equity in general, or the Conſciouſneſs of our adhering to it; which is ſuppos'd to carry its Reward along with it, as was ſaid in an old elegant Speech.

—& Mens ſibi conſcia recti.
VIRG.

AND a good Conſcience is call'd in Sacred Writ, a continual Feaſt. If, on the contrary, we are conſcious that we have done wrong, or departed from Equity, this Reflection carries a Pain along with it, as the former carried a Pleaſure: and all the Account we can give of thoſe different Effects upon our Minds, is, that ſuch is the Eſtabliſhment of things. St. Paul informs us very plainly, that this Operation of the Mind has been uniform in all Ages of the World: When * the Gentiles which have not the Law, do by Nature the things contained in the Law; theſe having not the Law, are a Law to themſelves: which ſhews the Work of the Law written in their Hearts, their Conſcience alſo bearing witneſs, and [283] their Thoughts the mean while accuſing or elſe excuſing, &c. He ſays in another place, He had kept a Conſcience void of Offence towards God and towards Men. So that Conſcience may be conſider'd as one of the Powers or Faculties of the Mind, like an Ear for Muſick; with this difference, that ſome few Perſons have got no Ear, but no Man was ever without ſome Conſcience. The Taſte indeed may be corrupted, and ſo it fares with Conſcience.

THIS View of Conſcience, as a natural Reliſh of moral Rectitude, and not * merely our own Opinion or Judgment of the moral Rectitude or Pravity of our own Actions, (as an ingenious Author defin'd it) will help to ſolve ſome Difficulties ariſing from the different Opinions of Men, (particularly Chriſtians) and their mutual Perſecutions; each Party really thinking themſelves in the [284] right. For it is to be obſerved, that theſe Differences are chiefly in Matters of Belief, and concerning the Interpretation of reveal'd Doctrines, and that all Parties are nevertheleſs agreed in the Principles of Juſtice and natural Equity. For inſtance, every one's Conſcience declares to him, that God is to be honoured in the moſt perfect Manner: ſo that the Diſpute comes only to be, what is the moſt perfect Manner? As to which, (tho' Men muſt neceſſarily be divided, ſo long as they differ in the Interpretation of what has been reveal'd, or do not all equally agree upon the things that are to be received as Revelation) their Conſciences (if they would hearken to them) would tell them that they ought to love one another, notwithſtanding any ſuch Differences of Thinking. But Hurry, Prepoſſeſſion, and Intereſt, darken the Underſtanding; making People take human Inventions for the Commands of God, or leſs earneſt to obſerve the weightier things of the Law, than the moſt inconſiderable Ceremonies. But this Confuſion of the Judgment does not infer that we have no ſuch Faculty, ſince it might be as reaſonably ſaid we have no Sight, becauſe ſometimes we do not ſee clearly. Nor is Chriſtianity to be charged with the Perſecutions among the different Sects and Parties, which its Enemies make a handle of in their Arguments againſt it: for Religion is commonly but a Pretence for [285] ſuch Severities, the Quarrel rather riſing from Ambition, or Covetouſneſs, or both. And if blind Zeal or Fury, without any other Mixture (which is even very rare) ſhould really be the Cauſe of the Severities, what more could the Founder of the Chriſtian Religion do, to inform Men's Underſtandings, than by making their Love to one another, the principal Mark of being his Diſciples? If People will call themſelves Chriſtians (as each Party call themſelves the only Chriſtians) and yet retain their Pride and Ill-Humour, and all the Vices of Nature, is Chriſtianity juſtly to be blam'd for that? They who thus blame it, as they are no leſs corrupt than the Chriſtians, are alſo guilty of a manifeſt piece of unfair Dealing; ſince any body that can read, may ſee what the Goſpel requires, and what it forbids.

THE ſame View of Conſcience, as a natural Senſe of Equity, may help to ſettle the Debate about innate Ideas, which is not now ſo high as it was ſome Years ago: for it needs not be aſſerted, that we came into the World with the Ideas of Virtue, or Dictates of Morality, no more than with the Ideas of Squares and Triangles, and their ſeveral Properties. 'Tis enough that the Mind ripens as to its Comprehenſion of Truths both geometrical and moral: and whatever may be call'd Science in either, is [286] only as it were an Evolution of ſome firſt Principles which Mankind are agreed upon; and ſo in Matters of Right and Wrong there lies an Appeal to the moral or internal Senſe, as in mathematical Demonſtrations there lies an Appeal to the external.

IT was very agreeable to find that Sir Matthew Hale had aſſerted both the moral Senſe, and the moral Dictates, in a Diſcourſe on our Saviour's Precept of doing as we would be done to. Here are a few of his Words: ‘"As *the Eye of Senſe, as ſoon as it is open, diſcerns the Light, without any ſolemn Proceſs to evince it to be ſuch; ſo there be ſome kind of Truths that the Eye of the Underſtanding aſſents to, as it were by Intuition."’—He adds, ‘"The great Reaſon of Inequality in our Actions is Self-Love, that makes a Man partial to himſelf, and warps him from that Equality and Juſtice, that ſhould direct him."’—And ſpeaking afterwards of the ſeveral Parts of Charity, he mentions, ‘"A general Frame of Humanity and Benignity to all Mankind, whether Relations or Strangers, Friends or Enemies—The contrary whereof (ſays he) is Selfiſhneſs, making a Man's ſingle Self the Center of all he doth."’ And having ſaid again, ‘"That Self-Love blinds and ſeduces the Judgment, whereby a Man [287] often attributes to himſelf ſuch Circumſtances as render the very ſame Action done by him to another, to be juſt and righteous; when the very ſame Action done by another to him, ſeems to be unjuſt."’ He therefore propoſes a Tranſpoſition of Perſons, which would put the Matter in a quite different Light: ſo he concludes moſt ingeniouſly, ‘"The truth is, this Precept doth diſcharge Self-Love from having to do in this Buſineſs of moral Righteouſneſs or Charity; or at leaſt puts it in that Condition, by Tranſpoſition of the Perſons, that it ſpeaks as much for Gaius as it doth for Titius, when Titius ſuſtains the Perſon of Gaius; and ſo Self-Love becomes equally an Advocate for Titius and againſt him."’

OUR Saviour has in a manner propos'd ſuch a Tranſpoſition of Perſons in that ſame glorious Precept, when he ſays, Therefore all things whatſoever ye would that Men ſhould do to you, do ye even ſo to them; for this is the Law and the Prophets. And he has made the Command univerſal and abſolute, without any prudential Limitations which Self-Love would be too ready to ſuggeſt. But the ſame natural Reaſon which ſees the Fitneſs of the Command, ſees alſo where the Tranſpoſition is to take place; and that the Precept is not deſign'd to defeat Order and Government among Men: as a [288] Parent is not to abſtain from correcting a Child, nor a Judge from puniſhing a Criminal: ſuch Power, being given for the Good of others, muſt be exerciſed accordingly, and is ſometimes exerciſed with grief.

A world of things might be ſaid about Conſcience, were it not for fear of being too intricate or too obvious. But 'tis remarkable, that the ſame thing which acts within us ſometimes as a Judge, acts at other times as an Accuſer, and even as an Executioner: and hence the uſual Expreſſion of the Laſhes of Conſcience. Nor is it any Argument that People have no Conſcience, becauſe they do not always feel thoſe Laſhes, nor are troubled with any Remorſe. For, not to ſay that they ſometimes feel more than they are willing to own, they are under the power of another Principle (Self-Love) which hinders them from ſeeing that they have done wrong, or may at firſt puſh them on to commit it, contrary to their plain Conviction. 'Tis this Liberty they take of doing what they know they ſhould not, that makes it be ſaid they have no Conſcience, or, which is the ſame thing, a large Conſcience: both Expreſſions importing that they ſtick at nothing.

IT is not poſſible to account for the Difference of Souls in the point of Conſcience: ſome have it of a very delicate [289] Senſe, others of a very dull one. And this Difference would ſeem to be in their very Nature, like the Difference of Complexion or any thing elſe. Why the ſame Perſon has this Senſe quicker and duller at different times, is another Secret, but the thing is certain in fact: for the ſame Temptation will prevail at one time, that would have no force at another.

A ſcrupulous Conſcience implies a Defect in the Underſtanding, and is a-kin to Superſtition and Bigotry; with this difference, that theſe two (which differ very little) often prompt Men to do extravagant Things: whereas Scrupuloſity reſtrains them from doing what may be very reaſonable.

BUT it is not always Scrupuloſity to differ from the current Practice of the Times, the Multitude being an ill Guide; and bare Example ſtrong enough to carry People away, even when neither Intereſt nor Pleaſure ſollicite. But this one Obſervation may be made, that whatever may contribute to raiſe Scruples, Intereſt is very apt in moſt Caſes to remove them.

SECT. XI. The REALITY of VIRTUE.

[290]

IF there is ſuch a thing in Man as Conſcience, there muſt alſo be ſuch a thing as Virtue, tho' this is as hard to define as the former: but the Exiſtence of both is diſcoverable from the Diſtinction of Right and Wrong, and ſo Virtue may be conſidered as the adhering to what is right, the Lovelineſs of which the Conſcience was convinced of before. Nor does it ſtrike at the Exiſtence of Virtue, that it is ſometimes repreſented as *an abſtracted Notion of the Mind; for all Qualities are nothing more, when they are conſidered ſeparately from any particular Subject; and Men ſpeak of ſuch Qualities that fall under the outward Senſes, as well as of thoſe moral Qualities affecting the Mind; as they ſpeak of Streightneſs, both in Lines and Actions. What is there more common than to talk of ſweet and bitter, without joining theſe Words to any particular thing taſted, or any other way perceiv'd?

THIS Pedantry ſeem'd the more allowable, that ſome Men have call'd Virtue, a Chimaera, a Phantom, and at beſt an arbitrary [291] thing: but honeſt People are at no loſs, when they hear of a virtuous Action, to know whence the Virtue of it proceeds, and they call both Actions and Perſons good without heſitation; ſo that Virtue and Goodneſs often paſs for the ſame thing, and no Confuſion enſues. Only it muſt be remembered, that the Idea of Goodneſs is leſs reſtricted than that of Virtue, which is chiefly applicable to rational Agents (call'd alſo moral Agents) and their Actions and Intentions.

AS every body allows that Goodneſs is the Object of Love, ſo Virtue muſt be the Object of it too. Yet there is a ſort of Reaſoning, which, if it took place, would deſtroy the very Being of Virtue: and that is, when People affirm, ‘"That no Man can love any thing but under the Notion of Good with reſpect to himſelf."’ But this in the firſt place is contrary to Experience, ſince we love many things under the Notion of Good with reſpect to others, with whom we have not the leaſt Connection, and therefore cannot be ſaid to love thoſe things with reſpect to ourſelves. In the ſecond place, by that reaſoning we could acknowledge no Difference between Good and Evil, but in ſo far as we found our Account (or thought we found it) in the one or the other: or, in other Words, the Goodneſs of things conſiſting only in their being good to [292] us, or giving us pleaſure, the Ideas of Goodneſs and Virtue would be ſwallow'd up in the ſole Idea of Pleaſure; and ſince vicious Perſons muſt be own'd to be pleas'd with their Purſuits, as well as virtuous Perſons are with theirs, the moral Difference between theſe two Parties would vaniſh. I do not ſay, that both Parties are equally pleas'd with their Purſuits; but both certainly are pleas'd. Nay, mad People are highly pleas'd with their extravagant Fancies; and where ſhall the Difference lie between them and the ſober, if Pleaſure is the only thing to be appeal'd to, and no Appeal to be made to the common Senſe of Mankind in their right Wits? Both muſt be equally mad, or both muſt be equally ſober.

THOSE Reaſoners bring themſelves into this farther Difficulty, that when 'tis ask'd them, Why they love any thing? and they make anſwer, Becauſe it gives them Pleaſure; a ſecond Queſtion (why Pleaſure?) leaves them nothing to ſay at all: unleſs they ſay they are pleas'd, becauſe they are pleas'd. Whereas others, who acknowledge the moral Difference of Things, independent of private Good, could anſwer readily, they lov'd a thing becauſe it was lovely, or good in it ſelf; which is much the ſame.

[293] THE Idea of Virtue as a thing lovely upon its own account, ſhews the Reaſonableneſs of the old Expreſſion, viz. Virtue is its own Reward, and that meer Pleaſure (without Juſtice) does not conſtitute the Happineſs of rational Creatures; otherwiſe Vice might have been as well ſaid to be its own Reward. 'Twas pity indeed the ſincere Stoicks had not had ſome more lively Thing to fix on, than their abſtracted Notion of Virtue: if Brutus, who perhaps had more of it than any Man at that time in Rome, had ſeen a little farther, he would not have call'd it an empty Name. But 'tis poſſible his Virtue (without diſparagement to him) has been pretty much tinctur'd with the Deſire of Applauſe, which is empty enough; and likewiſe the Diſtreſs and Perplexity of his Mind at that time, may have forc'd that Expreſſion from him. But Cicero, and thoſe who wrote of Virtue deliberately, always repreſent it as a real Thing, and infinitely charming.

HOWEVER, tho' the Underſtanding may be pleas'd with certain Ideas and Speculations of moral Goodneſs, and the Heart (ſuppoſing it honeſt) may partake of the Delight; yet the Heart muſt have ſomething to cleave to, that has Life; ſince otherwiſe the Affections would not have an adequate or ſuitable Object: ſo that (if ſuch a way of ſpeaking can be allowed) we muſt conceive [294] Virtue and Juſtice, and all that's lovely, even Love itſelf; as it were in Perſon, or united to an intellectual Nature.

VIRTUE then is ſtill a real Thing, whatever way it be ſuppos'd to affect Men: and there can hardly be a greater Proof of its Reality, than the melancholy State thoſe are reduc'd to, who ſee it and forſake it. If a Curſe was to be wiſh'd to any, there could be none imagin'd heavier:

Virtutem videant, intabeſcantque relictâ.

THE Pleaſure that's found in the Practice of Virtue, is much owing to the Reliſh or good Taſte of the Soul. But as this Taſte is much vitiated ſince the Fall of Adam, Virtue is ſometimes repreſented as a very uneaſy Thing; and no doubt is ſo, in many reſpects: for if it were ſo very natural and eaſy as ſome make it, our Saviour's Precept of Self-Denial would be ſuperfluous; and if it were ſo very unnatural and hard as others make it, his declaring that his Yoke is eaſy, would not be agreeable to Truth. But that which is eaſy to Nature in a State of Order, is not ſo in a State of Diſorder; for Nature is one thing, and corrupt Nature another: and they who never heard of the Diſtinction, nor of the Fall, had reaſon to recommend a Life according to Nature; [295] and to maintain * that ſhe never differ'd from Wiſdom. But the Caſe is now alter'd, and to live virtuouſly and wiſely is a Matter of Difficulty and Labour: ſo that indeed our Saviour's Declaration ſeems to import that his Yoke is eaſy, rather in the Conſequences, than that it is always ſo in the firſt Inſtance.

NOW what makes Virtue uneaſy at any rate, but ſome unhappy Turn of Nature, ſome Poiſon of Self-Love, ſomething that is not right, whatever Name it get? But this is certain on the other ſide, that, corrupt as our Nature is, there are many Practices of Virtue, which are mighty agreeable; and therefore to affirm abſolutely, ‘"That nothing can be virtuous, but what contradicts, and does violence to Nature,"’ is not only falſe, but looks like a Deſign to diſcourage all Attempts towards Virtue, whether natural or divine.

SECT. XII. RELIGION.

AS † Religion is principally meant of Man's Duty towards God, it is therefore conſidered as a higher Thing than Virtue: yet if the Diſtinction of natural and [296] divine Virtue, be admitted, the higheſt Things in Religion will ſuffer no diſparagement in being call'd Virtues.

BUT the Deſign here, and all along, is only to give a general View of Religion, and to confront it with Self-Love, in order to ſee how far it gains or loſes by its being mixed with that Principle.

IF a formal Definition of Religion were to be ask'd, perhaps that might do well enough (with ſome variation) which the Civil Law gives of Juſtice, viz. a conſtant and perpetual Will to render every one his Due. A Man cannot be ſaid to have Religion, unleſs he hath a Love for Juſtice; and this Love ought to be in a very great Degree, as our Saviour hath made uſe of the Words Hunger and Thirſt, and placed it in the Number of the Beatitudes: Bleſſed are they that hunger and thirſt after Righteouſneſs.

'TIS very true, the above Definition repreſents Religion as a Thing that's internal; and lying chiefly in the Heart: but this does not take away the Idea, nor the Obligation of external Religion, which conſiſts in outward Practices, either moral or inſtituted; no more than the actual Exerciſe of Juſtice is taken away, by the perpetual Inclination of doing juſtly. Virtue and [297] Vice both are internal Things, breaking out according to the Occaſions that fall in our way. We call thoſe Practices of Religion inſtituted or poſitive, the Reaſons whereof do not appear clearly to us, tho' there may be good Reaſons for them in the Wiſdom of God; if it was but to make them the Figures of higher Things, and to excite the dull Affections, by ſtriking on the outward Senſes. The Jewiſh Ceremonies were remarkably calculated for that purpoſe: And Chriſtians will hardly diſown that they have need to be awaken'd by ſenſible Impreſſions. But this by the way.

THERE is a more expreſs Definition of Religion, given by a late Author; which raiſes the Idea of Juſtice very high: 'tis in theſe Words; Religion then is nothing but a reſpectful Worſhip of Juſtice and Truth, which makes us treat God as God, and the Creatures as Creatures. Perhaps few Definitions will be found more exact, and there is none that captious Spirits will not cenſure: this at leaſt agrees with Mr. Wollaſton's Rule*, to treat things as they are. 'Tis alſo very plain, that the trueſt Worſhip conſiſts in Imitation, and Imitation is the Effect of Love: ſo that whatever Ideas we form of Religion, if they be form'd right, they all hang together in an Order that may be call'd [298] natural, and whereof Reaſon itſelf may ſee the Conſiſtency.

AS to Mr. Wollaſton, his Rule is moſt juſt: but then we can make no more of it, but to treat things only as they appear to us, or according to the Notions we have of them; and however imperfect theſe may be, we may be ſaid to act juſtly if we follow our Light. But the ſame Apoſtle, who tells us that the Gentiles do by Nature the Things contain'd in the Law, tells us alſo that the natural Man knoweth not the Things of God; and that they are ſpiritually diſcerned. The Things therefore contain'd in the Law ſhould ſeem to be thoſe Acts of Humanity and natural Juſtice, which we find inſtances of in all Times and Places; and the Things of God may be ſuppoſed to be meant both of his unſearchable Nature, and the Myſteries of Religion, which are but reveal'd as it were hiſtorically, or that they are, not how they are; and therefore, as the Apoſtle concludes, only to be diſcern'd by a ſpiritual Light.

THE natural Ignorance of Man will eaſily be confeſs'd by thoſe who acknowledge reveal'd Religion: and let thoſe who deny it tell us honeſtly what things they know really, or in their true Nature. Indeed the Rule of treating things as they are, holds very well as to certain Relations and Characters: [299] Parents, for inſtance, ought to be treated as Parents, and Children as Children; and ſo of other Relations. Again, People of Worth are to be treated in a different Manner from the Worthleſs; and in all Caſes, Prudence and Equity (which are never ſeparate) will know how to diſtribute and render what is due to every Relation and Character.

BY thus conſidering the Difference of Relations and Characters, we may form ſome imperfect Notions of our Duty, even to our Maker and the Creator of all Things. If we ſuppoſe a Being of infinite Power, Wiſdom and Goodneſs, the Obligations of Fear, Reverence and Love naturally ariſe: Reaſon itſelf goes ſo far, as to make that plain Inference and Concluſion. Nor can we hinder ourſelves from making ſuch a Suppoſition, if we allow Reaſon any Exerciſe at all. We ſee and feel enough to perſuade us of the Exiſtence of ſuch a Sovereign Being, unleſs we are ſtupid or hurry'd out of our Reflection. Tho' we cannot comprehend the divine Nature, we cannot fail to ſee that it is; elſe we muſt fall into the Abſurdities of imagining Things that are made, to have made themſelves, or to have been made by nothing; or elſe to confound the Maker and the Works together, like Spinoza; who, in that point, imitated [300] ſome of the Stoicks, and (with them) is imitated by later Authors.

RELIGION now is principally to be taken for the Duties we owe to God: What we owe to Men is uſually call'd Morality, tho' it is alſo a conſiderable Part of Religion, as being enjoin'd by God, who puts no value on any thing we do to ſhew our Homage to him, if we neglect our Duties to our Neighbour. This is confirm'd by many Places of Scripture.

RELIGION alſo may be divided into the internal and the external, and this again into the moral and the ceremonial. What a Man hath of the internal, can only be known to God; and the external will only be approved by him, as it proceeds from the internal. To inſtance even in the moral Part; Giving of Alms (which is of more value than going to Church) is rejected by God, when it is done only to be ſeen of Men; or it is ſo far rejected, as it is tinctur'd with that Principle: for our Saviour told the Phariſees, they had already their Reward.

'TIS true, the ceremonial Part of Religion is much aboliſhed by the Chriſtian Diſpenſation (the Jewiſh Ceremonies certainly are) and the few Inſtitutions or poſitive Precepts in it may deſerve a higher Character; tho' [301] ſtill they are but Ceremonies, when the Heart does not go along with them. What elſe is taking the Communion to ſecure an Employment? Baptiſm alſo is a Matter of Parade in the Parents for the moſt part, and the Children generally think as little about it when they come to Age, as in their Infancy. There is this Difference therefore between the moral and poſitive Inſtitutions, that the former are of uſe to others, even tho' they are not done from a right Principle; but the latter, unleſs they be done from a right Principle, are good for nothing.

BUT true Religion, as it contains all Virtues, ſo it will not omit any the leaſt Obſervances, whether it may think them appointed by God, or Men having his Authority; nay, tho' it is not ſo ſure of the Authority, it will ſubmit for Peace ſake, when the things enjoin'd ſeem to impart no Diſadvantage to Society, nor any Diſhonour to the divine Nature.

'TIS only with reference to that Diſadvantage and Diſhonour, that the Diſtinction of true and falſe Religion has come in uſe: for falſe Religion is no Religion. There is indeed a Difference between the diſowning all Religion (which is Atheiſm) and the Defects ariſing either from the Confuſion of [302] the Underſtanding, or the Perverſeneſs of the Will; and the laſt is by far the unhappieſt. Bigotry and Superſtition flow from a diſturb'd Underſtanding. Blind Zeal or religious Fury ariſes more from the Temper or Complexion, if theſe are proper Words; and what is call'd Enthuſiaſm is generally from the ſame Fountain. I have no intention to enquire into all the Sources of Error. But Religion (which may be call'd the Wiſdom that cometh from above) is firſt pure, and then peaceable, &c. Hypocriſy does not even deſerve the Name of falſe Religion: 'tis a Cheat upon the World, either to get Money or Applauſe, or both, when they can be had.

How many things may be added on this Subject! But I ſhall refer to a few Hints in the *Appendix, from which the Reader will eaſily draw a thouſand more.

SECT. XIII. The Unfitneſs of SELF, as an Object of LOVE.

[303]

THE common Ideas of Love, Happineſs, and Juſtice, ſhew pretty evidently what rank Self-Love ſhould ſtand in. Some Perſons indeed ſeem to be fond of the very Word: but if they mean by it the Deſire of Happineſs, 'tis plain we ought to deſire the Happineſs of all Men, and thus we ſhould fulfil the Command of loving our Neighbours as ourſelves.

BUT as Love implies more properly a Complacency in the Object; what Senſe would it make, if Self were ſaid to be this Object? The Love of other Creatures (that is, an ultimate Acquieſcence in them) is juſtly reckon'd an Abſurdity as well as an Impiety, becauſe of their natural Inſufficiency to ſatisfy the Heart. But ſtill they are Supports of a certain kind, which Self cannot be, ſince it is like a Void, that wants other things to fill it. So that the Self-Complacency of a Creature is much of the ſame import with Self-Deluſion; the Notion of a Creature always ſuppoſing Indigence. For as the Body cannot be Food to itſelf, ſo the Soul muſt depend for its Nouriſhment [304] upon ſome other thing than itſelf. And this Difference is to be remember'd between theſe two, that the Soul cannot fall to pieces like the Body, but ſubſiſts by its unexſtinguiſhable Nature (in Miſery and Anguiſh) when its Deſires are not ſatisfied.

'TIS very true, in this ſhort Dream of Life the Soul has ſeveral Deſires; and theſe more upon the Body's account than its own: nay, often we cannot ſay the things we deſire are of uſe, either to Soul or Body; for inſtance, Titles and Ribbons. But the Fancy (with a mixture of Pride) finds its account in ſuch things; and to that Source we may refer moſt of the Deſires of Men, Women and Children.

IF it ſhall be ſaid, that thoſe Marks of Diſtinction not only draw more Money, but alſo the Eſteem of others; it muſt be only of ſuch as are fanciful like ourſelves. A thorow Pride leads to the Contempt of all external Riches and Pomp, that we may be thought ſufficient for ourſelves, like the Philoſopher in his Tub. I ſhall not determine that Diogenes was led by the ſole Deſire of Eſteem and Admiration, tho' it was ſo ſaid by ſome of his Contemporaries, who have ſeen his weak ſides as he has ſeen theirs: but wherever that Deſire prevails, it concludes for the Inſufficiency of Self as an Object of [305] Love or Complacency, ſince we cannot be eaſ [...] but from without.

NOR can we ever be ſaid in this Life to be ſatisfied, but only amuſed by getting one Rattle or Feather after another; (the Delights of Friendſhip are not of this Claſs:) and when we come to ſhake off this Body, and our Stupidity with it, what a State, can we think, the Soul will be in, that has been only accuſtomed to delight in Vanity, and follow Shadows; when all its imaginary Buildings are pull'd down, and nothing remains but Remorſe, Shame, Horror, and what no Words are ſufficient to expreſs! This is upon the Suppoſition of a future Life: and Chriſtians profeſs a Belief even of the Reſurrection of the Body, the Senſes of which will be infinitely more quick, both as to Pain and Pleaſure, than here. Men will make little by their Self-Love at the Day of Judgment.

As the Conſequences of Self-Love are ſuch as have been repreſented, tho' ſaintly; the Conſequences of loving the moſt perfect Object with the moſt perfect Love, are not only Reſt and Joy to the Heart, but the whole Man is dignified and exalted. The Underſtanding is enlighten'd, and the Heart enlarged, as David expreſſes it. If the divine Love poſſeſs'd us, we ſhould be no longe thoſe little, narrow, proud, angry, confus'd [306] Creatures, ſhut up in a hard Shell; we ſhould then be free, in another Element, and without Strife. Charity is the Principle of Union, Self-Love the Principle of Diviſion.

ALL this appears from the Nature of Things, and Experience of the World. Bateing a few Gentlemen who follow the Stoicks, every body complains of the Imperfections of Nature, which is indeed in a very poor State; and not only imperfect, but wretchedly diſorder'd. To take a view of Body and Soul, many things occur, that are very diſagreeable, and particularly with reſpect to the moral World, (ſtill more out of order than the natural;) and let any body judge what thoſe things are owing to. Our Self-Love not only makes us the Tyrants of others, but alſo our own Executioners, and Self-Tormentors: whereas the divine Love, by making us loſe ſight of ourſelves, leads us both into Truth and Peace. It rectifies our corrupted Taſte: 'Tis no longer inſufficient miſerable We, that are the Deities, but Honour is given where it is due. If we ſee any thing excellent in our Neighbour, we love it and him as Rays of the divine Excellency. If ever we turn an Eye to ourſelves (and the ſeldomer we do it with complacency, the better) we ſhall conſider ourſelves, and every thing we have as deriv'd from that Source.

[307] IF we obſerve this Order, there can be no Error. We can hardly love ourſelves too much, if we love our Neighbour as much; that is, if both theſe Loves center in a higher. And leſt People ſhould deceive themſelves with a Fancy that they love God, when they do not, they ought to examine themſelves, and ſee whether they love their Neighbours alſo: for he that loveth not his Neighbour, whom he hath ſeen; how can he love God, whom he hath not ſeen?

SECT. XIV. The LOVE of the CREATURES.

AS we have no Commerce or known Connection with any rational Creatures of another Species than our own, and Love always ſuppoſing a Deſire of Union with the Object; we can only be ſaid properly to love Mankind, and but to deſire the Poſſeſſion of other created things, which are ſtill leſs able to ſatisfy our Heart.

'TIS to be conſider'd too, that the Creatures of our own Species, as they are deſir'd by Self-Love only for our own Utility, are reduc'd to the ſame Claſs of inferiour things; to the great indignity and contempt of human Nature; nor are the Defects of human [308] Nature, either as to Soul or Body, any reaſon for treating it at ſuch a low rate. If the Body decays and rots, it is but in the Condition of Plants and Vegetables; and if Gold and precious Stones are of a firmer Conſiſtence and Duration, than any animal or vegetable Body, yet our Love of thoſe glittering Things, is more on account of the Diſtinction they give us, than for any ſenſible Pleaſure they are able to convey. 'Tis true, the Eye has a certain Pleaſure in looking at them: but then the Eye is never ſatisfied.

LET us ſuppoſe, that all the Creatures together are not able to ſatisfy the Heart of Man, and then ſee what Inference Reaſon might make from the Suppoſition: The Inference would ſeem to be this, that Mankind muſt naturally have recourſe to the Deity, as the ſole Object of their Acquieſcence and Love. But we ſee how ſmall advances Reaſon made this way: the great Body of Mankind were intent only on ſatisfying their lower Appetites, and their Pride; and the Philoſophers (who deſpis'd them) were ignorant themſelves of the true State of things: The Corruption of Man and the Fall was not found out by Man, but diſcovered to him by Revelation. This is ſo true, that ſome of the Philoſophers, who were ſenſible enough of the Defects of the viſible Creation, rais'd an Objection from thence [309] againſt Providence, and even a creating Power.

No body ſhews better than Mr. Paſcal the oppoſite and imperfect Schemes of the Philoſophers*, for want of that Diſcovery of the Fall. If at preſent the great Roll of Miſeries and Calamities are objected, to diſparage the Divine Providence; and thoſe diſmal Scenes appeal'd to, that are fo frequently heard of, Murders, Robberies, Frauds, War, Peſtilence, Famine, Earthquakes, Hurricanes, Inundations; in ſhort, all the Evils, whether natural or moral, which afflict and deſtroy poor Mankind; to ſay nothing of bodily Diſeaſes, and common Death, which attacks us in ſo many Forms, and often without any warning: if all thoſe things be objected, it will mend the matter nothing to deny, (with the Stoicks) that there is any Evil: it will be more reaſonable to acknowledge (with St. Paul ) that the whole Creation groaneth. And likewiſe it will be very proper to keep in mind the Difference between moral Evils and natural, and to impute all that belongs to the firſt Claſs to the Corruption of Man, and even to Self-Love; as the natural Evils may be reckon'd either as Puniſhments of the moral, or ſometimes as Preventions. [310] How many Extravagancies are prevented, as well as puniſhed by Sickneſs and Poverty!

As to the natural Evils, and Death itſelf, they cannot be ſuppos'd (no more than the moral Evils) to have been in the firſt Eſtabliſhment of things. * God made not Death.

BUT farther, all the Evils that are either felt or heard of (ſometimes indeed very terrible) may yet be call'd little, in compariſon of the Good that remains in the Creation. The Eruption of a burning Mountain is but like a Chimney on fire in a great City: And the Service of the Elements in general is a large Equivalent for the Deſolations they ſometimes occaſion, as the Pleaſure and Fertility of a River makes well up for what it carries away in a Stream. Not to mention the Beauty and Regularity of the Heavenly Bodies, with their beneficent Influences, (a Theme often and to good purpoſe inſiſted on) which ſufficiently declare the Glory of God.

SOME late Ridiculers of Providence, who do not ſpeak out, have occaſion'd this little Digreſſion, in acknowledgment of the infinite Power and Wiſdom that fram'd the World, and ſtill ſupports it, in a ſurprizing Luſtre and Harmony. They would alſo have [311] it believed that the World is without Virtue, as well as without a Governour; and argue from the common Practices of Men, of whom they reckon Chriſtians the worſt, and take a handle from thence to diſparage Chriſtianity. But their Cavils againſt reveal'd Religion ſignify nothing, who deny the natural; as theirs ſignify as little who aſcribe more to the natural than its due, and who are juſtly ſuſpected of a Deſign againſt all Religion, and as ſecret Abetters of Atheiſm, by denying that Religion, which alone accounts for the preſent Diſorders of Men and Things.

WE are indeed in a mixt State, and a very tolerable one. As we are among Thorns and Briars, ſo we are among Roſes and Violets: and our State here is juſtly reckon'd a State of Tryal and Diſcipline. The Belief of a better Life afterwards, and if we add the Fall from Paradiſe, will make the preſent Afflictions light, and account pretty well for Affliction itſelf.

'TIS in the view of the afflicted, broken, unſatisfying State of things, that the Love of the World and the Creatures is ſo much forbidden in Sacred Writ: Mankind being often addreſs'd with Arguments from their own Intereſt, as well as from the Point of Juſtice. The natural Diſorders of the World [312] ſeem to be the Conſequences of the moral. Our Lives are ſhort, our Bodies weak and full of Diſeaſes, as if the Souls that inhabit them could not have a fitter Lodging: And from theſe proud and giddy Souls proceed more Sorrows than can be number'd. The Enquirers into the Origin of moral Evil will ever be at a loſs to account for it. We ſee there is Pride, tho' we cannot tell how it firſt enter'd; and all our Speculations labour under Difficulties. But we ſee that of Pride cometh Contention, and that it doth more miſchief in the World than Covetouſneſs and Luxury put together.

THE Love of the Creatures then is condemn'd, becauſe they are frail and unſatiſfying of themſelves; and by the Love of the World may be meant the Paſſion of following common Cuſtom, as well as that of gratifying our own Inclinations, ſome of which we muſt often drop for fear of Cenſure.

BUT the Love which is thus condemn'd, is more properly a Dotage: even the Love of rational Creatures may be ſo, and the Love of Money and fine Things deſerves not ſo good a Name as Dotage, but rather Avarice and Folly. The Love of rational Creatures is more excuſable on account of their Relation to us; and the natural Capacity they have of delighting us, as any body will acknowledge, who has the leaſt Senſe [313] of Friendſhip, or even a Satisfaction in ſeeing Faces and keeping Company. At the ſame time, rational Creatures are full of Imperfections, and but like Apparitions for their Duration: ſo that our Reſt is not to be in them. Nor, on the other hand, are their Imperfections ſo to diſguſt us, as to make us hate and deſpiſe them. The Command of loving our Neighbour imports a great deal, and is a divine thing, wherever we are not allured to it from our own Satisfaction; for in that caſe it may be call'd natural Love (the Object making an agreeable Impreſſion upon us) but not Self-Love or intereſted Love, unleſs our own Intereſt were the only Spring of it. And 'tis ſtill to be remember'd, that the divine Principle does not extinguiſh the natural, and that the Pleaſure reſulting from the Conſtitution of things is not to be call'd Self-Love, nor the Effect of Selfiſhneſs, no more than it is ſelfiſh to be pleas'd with the Light of the Sun. In fine, tho' we ſhould neither ſuppoſe a Fall nor a future State, the Arguments for Self-Love (by which all along has been meant the ſelfiſh Principle) can have no Foundation: for if we do any thing that can be call'd good with reference to others, it is only ſo far good as we do it upon their account: And for this we may appeal to the common Senſe of Mankind, eſpecially to thoſe who have not been corrupted with Books.

SECT. XV. The LOVE of GOD.

[314]

RELIGION being conſidered as our Duty to God, the higheſt part of this Duty is Love, which may be call'd the Mother of all Duties. Particular Commands and Prohibitions ſeem only to have been given for leading Man back to that Love, which was natural to him in his firſt State.

IT was ſaid before, (Sect. vii.) that Love in general implies a Deſire after the Object, and a Delight in it. Now the Perfections of the divine Nature demonſtrate the Love of God to be perfectly reaſonable, both in the Purſuit and the Acquieſcence. And tho' Love is called blind, as in ſome reſpect it is really ſo; yet the Underſtanding being enlighten'd, actuated, and influenced by the ſame unerring Spirit that influenceth the Heart, both theſe Powers are in perfect Order and Harmony; and their Operations conſequently muſt be compleat, rational, and natural, every way right, ſtrong, and conſiſtent; nothing feeble, nothing fooliſh, nothing defective. The poor Expreſſions of Men, are more defective than their Conceptions.

[315] BUT however imperfect either our Words or our Ideas may be, we can well enough perceive the Diſtinctions of things and their Properties. Nor does any Diſtinction ſeem more neceſſary to be kept in mind, than that of the Underſtanding and the Heart. By the former we diſcern the Beauty of an Object, and by the latter we love it or cleave to it: In agreeable Objects each of thoſe Faculties is pleas'd, but the Pleaſures are different. Again, our Underſtanding is the Seat of our Opinions, the Heart is the Seat of our Inclinations.

UPON the different Operations of theſe two Faculties, Dr. Henry More forms an Argument for the diſintereſted or pure Love of God; *the Subſtance of which is, ‘"That as Truth is the Object of the Intellect, and is aſſented to becauſe it is true, without regard to the particular Underſtanding that contemplates it; ſo Goodneſs is the Object of Love, which is lov'd chiefly for its own Excellency."’ And he concludes, ‘"We may as well affirm that there is no Underſtanding, but what is ſelf-intereſted, as that there is no Love but what is ſelf-intereſted."’

No body was ever found that deny'd to Mankind a Faculty of loving, as well as a [316] Faculty of diſcerning: and one may be bold to ſay, that Love is ſo much the Perfection and Happineſs of our Nature, that 'tis deplorable it were not directed to the proper Objects, and attended with all the Conditions that render it worthy.

THE Heart is a Term both for the loving Faculty, and Love itſelf. Where your Treaſure is, there will your Heart be alſo: and Thou ſhalt love the Lord with all thine Heart. It is indeed added, and with all thy Might; to ſhew that the Dignity of the Object requires that all our Faculties and their utmoſt Force ſhould be employed in Love and Adoration. Again, an honeſt Heart is taken for a ſincere Intention; and in ſhort, the Heart is conſider'd as the principal thing in Man. My Son, give me thy Heart.

I have the rather mention'd this obvious Diſtinction of the Heart and the Underſtanding, that ſome (and I believe very good Perſons) have conſidered the Love of God only as an Act of the Underſtanding, by which the ſupreme Being is adored for its Excellencies, and lov'd alſo; but chiefly loved, becauſe thoſe Excellencies are beneficial to us: and ſuch Perſons are ſo much afraid of falling into Enthuſiaſm (meaning the Extravagance of a warm Imagination) that they exclude Love wholly from the [317] Heart, leſt it ſhould be call'd a Paſſion, or an indiſcreet thing. But why may there not be divine Paſſions, as well as human? Spiritual Affections, as well as natural? The Imagination is by no means the Seat of Love, any more than it is the Seat of Hatred, Joy, or any other Affection of the Soul. However, Imagination may impoſe upon us, or be impoſed upon itſelf, this is but like ſeeing thro' a falſe Glaſs; the Operations of the Heart belonging to a quite different Province.

‘"THE true Love of God (ſays a late *Writer) is calm, and ſedate, and permanent. The crackling Blaze of Paſſion is ſoon over; it dazles, and it ſcorches, for a moment; but leaves no laſting Warmth: whereas the ſilent Glowings of the Heart are ſtrong, and durable; and preſerve an equal Temper of Heat."’

THIS is very well expreſs'd. The Author does not exclude the Love of God from the Heart; he rather ſays it ought to be there always, only in a calm ſedate manner. But who can give Rules to Love? The State of the Heart, either as to its Sedateneſs or its Diſturbance, its Coolneſs or its Warmth, depends chiefly on the divine Power that acts upon it; and the ſame Perſon at different times is under very different Operations; [318] in Diſtreſs, in Joy, in Hopes, in Fears; as is evident from many Paſſagges in ſacred Writ.

I have not the leaſt intention of falling into a Diſpute with this Author, for I know nothing at all about him, nor have ſeen any of his Papers but this ſingle one. I'm willing only to quote ſome of his Expreſſions, as being among the beſt and the modeſteſt that are to be found in the Advocates for Self-Love, who often write both ſaucily and confuſedly.

He ſays, ‘"Whoever traces our Love of others, he will find, it ultimately terminates in ourſelves; and that our Affection towards any Perſon is in reality a Retaliation of ſome kind Offices we either have received, or do (at leaſt) expect from him. It is true, we often have a tender Regard and a Value for thoſe who have been Benefactors to others, tho' they never extended their Kindneſs to us: But he who ſearches deep into human Nature may obſerve, that here likewiſe we give a ſecret Glance towards ourſelves, and love the generous Perſon, not ſo much becauſe he did good to another, as becauſe we imagine we alſo ſhould have felt the ſame Effects of his Munificence, had he ſeen us in the like indigent Circumſtances."’

[319] HERE the Charge againſt Self-Love is carried as high as neceſſary, tho' the Author ſeems to have deſign'd it no diſparagement. The Search into human Nature can hardly be deep enough, ſo very latent is the Byaſs towards ourſelves. But the Retaliation of good Offices is by no means to be found fault with, Gratitude being a part of Juſtice; and it can have no Tincture of Self-Love, when we expect no ſuch Offices for the future. What ſeems to be unnatural in the Account given of our Love of generous Perſons, is the founding it on an Imagination, that we ſhould have felt the ſame Effects of their Generoſity; which is at moſt but a poſteriour Reflection, and 'tis poſſible the Fancy might never enter into one's head. And tho' the Apoſtle ſays, we love God becauſe he loved us firſt, this is to ſhew the Excellency of God's Love above ours; we having ſuch Motives for loving him, whereas he had none for loving us.

THE Oppoſition made to the pure Love of God, by Perſons of Integrity and good Senſe, has certainly ariſen from the Abuſe which has been made of that Doctrine by weak People, or vile Pretenders; the former really taking their own Fancies for the Operations of the Almighty, and ſo falling into ſhameful Familiarity and nauſeous Expreſſions; and the latter ſort, having no Senſe [320] of Religion at all, have by their Pretences to the higheſt Things in it, impos'd upon the Society they liv'd in, and ſometimes ſubjected them to their Dominion and Tyranny: as in the caſe of John of Leyden and others. Hence the Cry of Enthuſiaſm, heated Imagination, and the like. Hence the Love of God is put in oppoſition to all Affection, and confin'd to a ſimple Acknowledgment of the divine Attributes, and (perhaps) a deſire of keeping the divine Commandments, which may be more from a Regard to ourſelves than the Deity. True Love leads naturally to the keeping of the Commands of God: and our Saviour only makes it the Teſt of Love, to undeceive any who may vainly think they love him without that inward Diſpoſition and outward Mark.

ANOTHER thing that may have frighted People from the pure Love of God, is their imagining it muſt cut off all natural and lawful Affections. But this Fear is groundleſs: Husbands love your Wives, ſays the Apoſtle. Tho' God is to be loved with all our Heart, yet we may and ought to love ſome inferiour things, if we love them in the due Order and Meaſure: even Self-Love may ſtand, if it be turn'd down to its proper Station.

BUT as our Happineſs does not conſiſt in the Love of ourſelves, but in the Enjoyment [321] of things ſuited to our ſeveral Faculties; ſo the ſupreme Happineſs and Perfection of all intelligent Natures muſt conſiſt only in the Love and Adoration of the eternal Goodneſs. No words can expreſs the Perfections of the Divine Nature, and Mortals when they ſpeak of it ſhould be afraid of ſpeaking abſurdly. The Heavens are not pure in his ſight, and he charges the Angels with Folly. What is Man, wretched Man, that he ſhould preſume to open his Mouth on ſuch a Subject? But the Love of God is a known Expreſſion, and a thing of all things the moſt reaſonable; and yet unfortunately diſputed! By the Love of God muſt be meant the whole of Man's Duty and Happineſs; two diſtinct Ideas, but inſeparably connected together.

ST. Auguſtine gives a Reaſon for that great Duty, beſides the point of Juſtice, from the Deſign of our Exiſtence and the Nature of our Soul. He ſays, *"God hath made us for himſelf, and our Heart muſt be unquiet till it reſts in him."’ Mr. Paſcal likewiſe (after taking a View of all the Hurry and Amuſement we are engaged in, and the different Springs that move us) concludes, "That Man can find no Reſt, neither in himſelf nor in the Creatures, but in God alone."’

[322] 'TIS true, Moſes lays it down with the Authority of a Lawgiver, Thou ſhalt love the Lord with all thy Heart, &c. But the Command carries its Reaſon within it, if the Mind is but attentive. For without doubt the moſt proper Object of our Love muſt be, that which is in itſelf the moſt perfect; that which, tho' we love ever ſo much, we can never love up to its worth, having ſtill new and greater Cauſe to love it: and this can be nothing elſe but the alone uncreated, the infinite and eternal Beauty. Plato's Method of Aſcent from the Love of Beauty, which we ſee in the Body, to that which we ſee in the Soul, and from that to the immenſe Ocean of Beauty, is very remarkable.

THERE are ſome who do not deny, that God ought to be loved with all the Heart, or the Affection, in the Words of Moſes; but then they would make Self-Intereſt the only Foundation of all Love, which ſeems not at all reaſonable; and, as it was obſerved before, Dr. Henry More ſufficiently expoſes the Opinion. I know Moſes, tho' he ſpeaks as a Lawgiver, begins yet with an Encouragement: Hear therefore, O Iſrael, and obſerve to do it, that it may be well with thee, &c. But the higheſt Encouragement that can be given to excite Men to their Duty, cannot take away the Principle of it, [323] otherwiſe Duty would be ſubſervient to Intereſt, or a Man's higheſt Duty would be to himſelf, which no Chriſtian ever aſſerted in plain Terms: and the Idea even Horace gives of a *good Man, ſhews how much he was of another opinion; for the Difference between a good Man and a bad, muſt conſiſt in ſome other things than a Regard to themſelves, ſince the bad are afraid of Hurt, and deſirous of Happineſs, as well as the good; and no body would beſtow the Epithet of Virtue or Goodneſs upon Kites and Foxes.

THERE is ſtill a Principle of Juſtice, and 'tis the adhering more or leſs to it, at makes the difference between the good and the bad. Prudence is one Virtue, and Juſtice another; the former indeed reſpecting ourſelves, the latter ſomewhat elſe. And Cicero ſays, Juſtice deſires neither Price nor Reward, but is deſired upon its own account. If there is any Beauty in Virtue, any Lovelineſs in moral Characters, the Charms muſt be independent of any Profit, ſince they ſtrike before ſuch Views or Expectations can enter.

[324] THE greateſt part of what has been ſaid in this Article, has been to ſettle a Point of Speculation or bare Philoſophy, rather than to make Encomiums on the thing itſelf: for there need none to thoſe who feel it; and thoſe who feel it not, will hardly be affected with Words. All a Perſon can do, who preſumes to ſay any thing of it without feeling it, is to ask pardon of thoſe that do or wiſh to feel it. And perhaps the Pardon will be granted, when 'tis conſidered that this Doctrine has been ſo much decry'd of late, and the oppoſite Doctrine magnified as the higheſt Virtue, and made the Foundation of Religion: a miſerable Foundation! it has contributed to the diſparagement of Chriſtianity, and given a handle for Ridicule and Triumph to its Oppoſers, not to be anſwered but by owning the diſintereſted Principle, and placing Religion upon that ſolid and cleanly Foundation.

THE Reader may ſee how far the Ridicule has been carried in the Characteriſticks, by the Quotation in the Margin*, and indeed [325] with good Senſe as well as Severity. But the Blame falls only upon the modern Projectors, not upon the Chriſtian Doctrine, which ought not to ſuffer from the weakneſs of ſome who meddle to explain it: and one thing is remarkable, that the Deiſts ſometimes agree with thoſe very Projectors they had deſpiſed; for their Syſtem of calm Benevolence and Self-Approbation is much about one with the cool deliberate Selfiſhneſs of the other Party.

BUT the unquiet Heart of Man muſt have ſomewhat elſe to ſatisfy it than its own Approbation, as may eaſily appear from the Inſufficiency of created Beings, and the reſtleſs Purſuits of Men. And here one cannot but obſerve, how this Sett of the Deiſts and ſome of the Clergy diſtreſs each other on the Article of Self-Love; the Deiſts charging the Clergy with a finer ſort of Epicuriſm; ſince the moſt corrupt Perſon in the World is willing to renounce ſmaller Pleaſures for greater. And, on the other hand, the Clergy object againſt the Deiſts, ‘"That it Self-Approbation is their principal Aim, they muſt hug a Phantom. And not only ſo, but their Pride, which fills them with the Notion of their own Excellency, muſt render them incapable of thoſe Joys and Perfections only inherent in the Deity, and only communicable to ſuch Spirits, [326] as are diſpoſſeſs'd of ſuch imaginary Fulneſs and real Arrogance."’

BY the by, this Stoical old-faſhion'd Pride has been of late dreſs'd up into a kind of Syſtem, by which the defective Nature of Man (to ſay no worſe of it) and the whole viſible Creation, are repreſented as quite free of Imperfection and Evil. Now tho' it is difficult to argue againſt Experience, or to talk People out of their Senſes; yet it is poſſible ſome Minds of a certain Caſt may at length imagine their own particular Nature to be of ſuch Perfection, as to ſtand in need of no Helps but what they have from within themſelves; or, in other words, that their Reaſon is a ſufficient Guide for all Purpoſes of Belief and Practice; and conſequently that they are not obliged to aſſent to any thing but what they ſee clearly by this light: nay, that it were abſurd even to be in ſuſpenſe about it, but immediately to reject it; and that, as to Practice, their Inclinations being free from any wrong Biaſs or Tendency, there can be no better Guides than theſe neither! From hence proceeds the Averſion to all Revelation, and to the Clergy or Prieſts of all Religions, whom they look upon as too cunning for the reſt of Mankind, and ſometimes do them the honour to call them, the Compilers of the Sacred Records themſelves; not adverting to the Demonſtration of the Facts, nor the Purity of the [327] Doctrines, from which indeed the Lives of the Clergy as well as the Laity are very different, to the hearty Regret of the ſincere among all Ranks. And there is nothing but Inſincerity (a hard Suppoſition) or plain Deluſion, that can account for ſuch a ſtrange Repreſentation of the Excellency of human Nature, as to reject all Neceſſity of a Mediator, Revelation, and the continual Influences of the Divine Spirit on the impure fallible Spirits of Men, who are Blunderers in the commoneſt Affairs. When one thinks of the Ignorance and Corruption of human Nature, one is almoſt in danger of falling in with the oppoſite Party of Deiſts, (and perhaps the Name is too good for either Party) who allow nothing at all to Mankind that's good, not ſo much as the leaſt Approbation of Virtue, nor any Virtue and Decency, but what the fantaſtical Humour of People happens to eſtabliſh. But 'tis hard to ſay which of the Extremes is worſt: And ſome Perſons have been very unſucceſsful when they undertook to go the middle way, and would needs lay the Foundation of Religion and all Duty upon Self-Love; the very thing, which Religion deſigns to extirpate; that is, the ſelfiſh Principle in which a Man's Good is his higheſt Motive, or himſelf the Center of all his Aims. But to return.

THE Aſſerters of the diſintereſted Principle have this to ſupport their Doctrine, that [328] if one was to conſider Love, as it is in the divine Nature, the firſt Idea that would probably occur, would be that of a free Communication of Good; as the Sun ſends forth its Light and its Heat.

THE Source of Joy and Bliſs can want nothing for himſelf: ſo that the Deſign of making Creatures, is to impart Happineſs or Good to them. And 'tis very remarkable that St. John ſays, God is Love, and God is Light; as if he had deſign'd to exhibit the Deity to our imperfect Conception under the Characters of diſintereſted Goodneſs and diffuſive Joy.

'TIS true, God is ſaid * to have made every thing for himſelf: for every thing muſt be made for ſome end by an intelligent Agent: and the Source of all Power, Wiſdom, and Beauty, and whatever is excellent, muſt be an End to itſelf; ſince there can be no End higher. Again, we hear of the arbitrary Pleaſure of God; He hath created all things, and for his Pleaſure they are and were created. But the Idea of Goodneſs is inſeparable from that Pleaſure.

SUCH is truely the inexpreſſible Love of God, that he may be ſaid to hire us to do [329] good to ourſelves. He has annexed Pleaſure even to thoſe low things Eating and Drinking, as if we were to be bribed to ſupport our own poor Fabrick, as well as to repleniſh the Earth. Nor are theſe Pleaſures deny'd to the inferiour Creatures: Every thing living has its Enjoyments. So that tho' the common way of ſpeaking be true, ‘"God hath made every Creature for his own Glory, and all things here on Earth for the Uſe of Man;"’ yet it is no leſs true, that he makes every Creature that has Life for its own good. And if we might ſuppoſe greater and leſſer Motives in the incomprehenſible God, we would have reaſon to conclude that the good of Creatures is his greateſt Motive in creating them. He has no need of us, and we have need of every thing from Him.

WE are farther told, that Mankind ſtands in a near Relation to the Deity: For we are his Offspring, as St. Paul ſays from a Greek Poet, which was the fitteſt Authority he could bring to thoſe he was arguing with; tho' it was a bold ſtroke enough in that Poet: but it is ſupported by Moſes, who ſays, God made Man after his own Image; and Jeſus Chriſt has enjoin'd us to be perfect, as our Father in Heaven is perfect; ſhewing us at once our Relation and our Duty.

[330] THIS Relation (which we could not have ſuppoſed without the greateſt Arrogance) makes the Duty the more apparent. We ought to imitate the Divine Nature, and be perfect as far as we are able. Now where can this Perfection lie in us, but in Diſintereſtedneſs? 'Tis the only thing wherein we can imitate the Almighty, who (we are told again) does good even to the wicked and unthankful. Love muſt be diſintereſted, or intereſted, or mixt: 'tis undiſputedly diſintereſted towards ourſelves, and is enjoin'd to be ſo towards others, even the Wicked: how much more ſo ought it to be towards the Fountain of all Good? This ſeems to be plain Reaſoning, and no high Flight, as the pure Love of God has been unfortunately call'd by ſome Profeſſors of Chriſtianity, and thence a handle given the Enemies of that Religion to diſparage it.

IF God then loves us diſintereſtedly, 'tis reaſonable to think we ought to love him after the ſame manner: and if Love implies Union, that Condition of loving purely cannot be wanting; as it is only in Purity or Diſintereſtedneſs that we can find the Idea of Juſtice, by which every thing has its due, and is loved for its own Worth.

THE two Objections againſt the pure Love of God (for a third can hardly be imagin'd) [331] are firſt, that our Nature cannot attain to it; and ſecondly, that it is not required of us. If the firſt were true, the ſecond would be ſo of courſe; for impoſſible things wou'd not be required by the God of Righteouſneſs. But it is plainly required in the Old Teſtament, that we ſhould love God with all our Heart; and by our Saviour in the New, who makes it the Sum of the Law and the Prophets. The annexing Promiſes and Threats, appears eaſily a Condeſcenſion to human Weakneſs.

LET our Nature be call'd as weak and corrupt as any body has a mind, for 'tis certainly in a very pitiful Condition; but let not the Capacity be denied of being tranſform'd into a new Nature by the Power of God, or what is call'd Grace, as being out of the number of ordinary or moral Virtues, which muſt be own'd to come from above alſo. 'Tis for Grace that Prayers are ſo often put up by the Clergy of all Denominations, and the Love of God is pray'd for in expreſs terms. Properly Grace means Favour, and the Love of God to us is the higheſt Favour that can be vouchſaf'd; as our Love to him is the greateſt Tribute we can offer, and at the ſame time the moſt perfect State we can be in, and the happieſt for ourſelves. By Grace is farther underſtood the Removal of thoſe Impediments and Obſtructions which hinder the divine Influences from operating on the Hearts of Men; and ſo the Prayer runs, [332] Cleanſe our Hearts by the Inſpirations of thy holy Spirit, &c. For the Divine Nature may be compared to the Sun, than which we have no viſible Object of more Force and Efficacy. And what can be more neceſſary to be done away, than that ſelfiſh Diſpoſition of Heart, which has no Reaſon either for its Love or Averſion, but the Appearance of Gain or Loſs to itſelf?

THIS Article of the Love of God has been drawn out to a much greater length than was deſign'd, and 'tis pity any thing ſhould have been mixed with it that looks like Wrangling: But, as was before obſerved, the Advocates for Self-Intereſt have rais'd it ſo high, as to make it the only Principle of acting, not only among common Men, but the Apoſtles and Ambaſſadors from Heaven. They have like wiſe perplex'd the Matter by ſubſtituting Self-Love for Self-Intereſt, and ſo have render'd it an unfavourable thing to differ from them; ſince it is ſo natural to love ourſelves, and even to conſult our Intereſt. But they are to underſtand, that there is no difference but in this ſingle Point, ‘"Whether God is to be lov'd principally for his ſake or our own."’

IT is not to be denied, that Rewards and Puniſhments are laid before us in the Scripture, and that many of its Arguments are accommodated to Hope and Fear: But Religion [333] deſigns alſo that our Hopes and Fears ſhould have a juſt and reaſonable Foundation; in which caſe they are of great ſervice to us, as the Spur and the Bridle, to animate our Dulneſs, or reſtrain our Forwardneſs.

BUT tho' Hope and Fear have their Place in Religion, they are not to have the higheſt Place. St. John hath aſſured us, that * perfect Love caſteth out Fear: And St. Paul hath very deciſively given Charity (that is, Love) the preference above all Gifts and Graces.

BOTH Hope and Fear may be conſidered either as divine Virtues, or natural Diſpoſitions, Qualities, or what other Term the Reader ſhall chuſe.

THE Objects of our Hope and Fear are Pleaſure and Pain in the general. And tho' Fear ſerves as a Reſtraint upon our Actions, yet it ſerves alſo as an Inducement; the ſhunning of Pain being often as ſtrong a Motive, as the procuring of Pleaſure.

AGAIN, 'tis chiefly with reference to Pleaſure and Pain in this Life, that our Hopes and Fears are awakened: ſo that our preſent Quiet or Security as to the next Life is very much owing to our Stupidity. And the Pain that we are principally afraid of in [334] this World, is the Cenſure of others, who we cannot but ſee will take the ſame liberty with our Character, that we take with theirs; and thus we paſs our few Days in Dread and Slavery: this certainly will be own'd by the polite Part of Mankind, and there is hardly the meaneſt Perſon but has his Fears and his Pride.

WHAT is ſhameful in the Fear of Cenſure is the Exceſs of it, and when we are convinced our Judges are ignorant. What is ſhameful in the Fear of Death, or bodily Pain, or Loſs of Goods, is when we are too much diſconcerted, and eſpecially when we are frightned out of our Virtue.

WHEN Hope and Fear are directed to the next World, they muſt continue in ſuch a Station (with every thing that God has planted) as perfect Love ſhall aſſign them. We are told it caſteth out Fear, that is, any Apprehenſion about ourſelves; for by Fear is meant alſo Honour and Reverence, which can never be caſt out: And this divine Hope is founded on a Senſe of the infinite Goodneſs, and not on Self-Love, for this were but Preſumption. We may ſee nothing worthy of Love in ourſelves, and yet have a great Confidence in the divine Mercy. And we are never fit Objects of that Mercy, 'till we loſe our good Opinion of ourſelves, and ſee our own Inſufficiency and Corruption. For God reſiſteth the Proud.

[335] THE pure Love of God may be call'd an Element, which we can never breathe in till we get free of Self-Love: or, theſe two Loves having (as St. Auguſtine ſays) *made two Cities, a Man cannot at the ſame time be an Inhabitant of them both. But a very little Reflection may ſhew us, which of the two Cities or Elements can afford us moſt Pleaſure: for the higheſt Pleaſure is to love; and the higheſt Perfection is to love what is moſt excellent.

WHATEVER Helps we can think of, to excite our Love to the Deity, whether it be the Conſideration of his Goodneſs or his Power, Hopes or Fears, Gratitude, Prudence, or any thing that can occur to a reaſonable Mind, ſhould all be made uſe of in their order, and conſpire to lead us to that indiſpenſible Duty; which tho' it be our inſallible Intereſt, is yet to be purſued chiefly as our Duty: otherwiſe we have neither the true Notion of Love nor Juſtice, nor even of our own Intereſt, but confuſedly jumble all three together, or perverſely give Intereſt the preference, and ſet up ourſelves in the place of God, and conſequently fall into the Element of Trouble, or (at moſt) into a deluſive Quiet while it laſts.

ADDITIONS.

[336]

No. I. SELF-LOVE, PLEASURE, HAPPINESS, INTEREST.

SELF-LOVE is a compounded ſort of a Word, the Lover and the Beloved being one and the ſame, and the Object and the Faculty link'd together; as (in Dr. More's Phraſe) Ginger-bread-Love, Money-Love, &c. 'Tis true, theſe Expreſſions are not uſed in our Language. We ſay, the Love of Money, Brotherly Love, and the like: but other Languages make but one word of two, as [...], [...], [...].

WHEN the French ſpeak of a reaſonable Self-Love (which they ſeldom do) and make it the Foundation of Virtue, they [337] only mean * human Virtue, or ſuch virtuous Actions as aim only at the Rewards of this Life; of which ſort of Virtue, Self is undoubtedly the Foundation, and it muſt be allowed to be a very unſtable one.

THE Self-Love that's argued for by wellintention'd Perſons, as the Foundation of all Duties both in Morality and Religion, is that Self-Affection which Nature has planted in us: But all manner of Affection, and the Deſire of all manner of Rewards muſt be regulated by Juſtice.

IT ſeems fitteſt therefore to underſtand Self-Love (according to the moſt current acceptation) as the Sink of all Vices, or as a bad Tree, which, if the Branches are lopt off upon one ſide, will put forth new ones upon another, ſo long as the Ax is not laid to the Root.

THE Argument againſt cutting down what God has planted, has no place in this Idea of Self-Love; for God plants nothing that's ill: And therefore nothing that he has planted is to be deſtroyed in an abſolute Senſe; tho' ſeveral things are ſo to periſh, as to make way for what is more perfect. Meat [338] for the Belly, and the Belly for Meat; but God ſhall deſtroy both. Here is a kind of Deſtruction: and yet the Works of God can never periſh. Our Saviour ſays, He that loſes his Life, ſhall find it: the Meaning is obvious. And thus Self Love, or lawful Affection for ourſelves, may be conceived as a thing not to be extinguiſh'd, or loſt in a Phyſical Senſe, but ſwallow'd up by a ſiner Principle, as a River is loſt in the Sea.

Pleaſure.PLEASURE conſiſts in the Agreement of Objects with our Faculties: ſo to have agreeable Senſations or Perceptions, is to have Pleaſure. Reflections are alſo capable of giving Pleaſure, tho' ſainter.

IN the mere Senſation of Pleaſure there is neither Vice nor Virtue, Shame nor Praiſe; for we are but paſſive under the Impreſſion.

THE Love of Pleaſure and Self-Love are far from being convertible Terms. We love Pleaſure for our own ſake; and, if we are but pleas'd, we are indifferent what the Object be; and we readily quit one, from the view of more Pleaſure in another: and all this is reaſonable, provided we do not tranſgreſs the Limits of Juſtice.

PLEASURE is often taken for the lower kinds of Gratification; A Man of Pleaſure: [339] Lovers of Pleaſures, more than Lovers of God.

IT is from the different Pleaſures Men follow, that they are to be call'd childiſh, fantaſtick, brutal, diſhoneſt, impious; or the reverſe of all theſe. For, beſides the Pleaſures of the five Senſes, there are the Pleaſures of the Underſtanding, and the Pleaſures of the Heart, the Pleaſures of Speculation, and the Pleaſures of Practice; with an infinite Number of little Pleaſures depending on the animal Spirits, as Exerciſes, Diverſions, Mirth, &c. all which are very good in their own order.

FALSE Pleaſures muſt be allowed to have a certain Reality in them, ſince they actually do pleaſe; but the Pleaſure is owing to a vitiated Taſte: for inſtance, the Delight in hearing of other People's Defects, even when we have no deſign to exalt ourſelves.

Happineſs.HAPPINESS and Pleaſure may be uſed promiſcuouſly, without much Impropriety of Diſcourſe: for whatever Pleaſure Men eagerly purſue, they have no other Notion of Happineſs at that time.

THUS the revengeful Man's Revenge is his Happineſs, the luxurious Man's Luxury is his Happineſs; and a Man will ſometimes [340] be happy with the ſmalleſt matter in the world.

Intereſt.MUCH the ſame may be ſaid of Intereſt; it is not confin'd to Money-matters: but whatever the Heart is ſet upon, that's Intereſt.

THUS Men forego ſmall Pleaſures, or little Intereſts, for greater; or willingly ſuffer Pain from the Hopes of Pleaſure afterwards, or take their hazard of exceſſive Pain afterwards for a ſhort Pleaſure in the mean time: and it is not eaſy to calculate either the Degrees of the Intenſeneſs or the Duration. But it is enough to ſuppoſe in general, that 'tis the Proſpect of greater Intereſt that determines us to ſuch Changes.

THE right Notion of Intereſt, and the Purſuit of it, upon a deliberate Examination, is Prudence: for often Men are hurried on without any Conſideration at all, and often they are very confuſed in their Deliberations.

BUT the Ideas of Intereſt and Juſtice are diametrically oppoſite. Our Intereſt often ſuggeſts to keep what Juſtice would require us to give away.

YET nothing is our true Intereſt, but what is juſt; or nothing is really profitable, but what is honeſt.

[341] AND thus ſome Moraliſts had reaſon to make Honeſty and Profit inſeparable; and they had this View likewiſe in forbidding us to ſeparate them, becauſe we are ſo ready to go over to the profitable ſide: as * Arrian upon Epictetus argues very handſomely.

No. II. Deſcription of SELF-LOVE.

‘"SELF-LOVE is the Love of one's ſelf, and of every thing for the ſake of one's ſelf; it makes Men Idolizers of themſelves, and would make them Tyrants to others, if Fortune furniſh'd them with the means of doing it: it never takes any reſt but within itſelf, or dwells longer on any other Objects, than Bees do upon Flowers, to extract what may be to its advantage."’ Nothing is ſo impetuous as its Deſires, nothing ſo ſecret as its Deſigns, nothing ſo artful as its Conduct. In Agility, it ſurpaſſes all Repreſentation; in transforming itſelf, it exceeds all the Metamorphoſes; and in refining, goes beyond all the Art of Chymiſtry: There's no fathoming the Depth, or piercing thro' the Darkneſs [342] of its Abyſs. Here 'tis conceal'd from the moſt penetrating Eyes, and makes a thouſand inſenſible turnings and windings: Here 'tis often viſible to itſelf, and conceives and breeds up a vaſt number of Inclinations and Averſions unknown to itſelf; ſome of which are to monſtrous, that when they are brought forth, it does not know them, or cannot be prevail'd on to own them. From this obſcurity, with which 'tis overcaſt, ariſe the ridiculous Conceits that it has of itſelf; hence proceed the Errors, Ignorance, the groſs and ſilly Miſtakes it entertains of itſelf; hence it is, that it fancies thoſe Paſſions dead in it, which are only laid to ſleep, that it imagines it has laid aſide the Deſire of purſuing, when it does but reſt to take breath; and thinks it has loſt the Appetites, which it has only ſatisfied for the preſent. And yet this Obſcurity, thick as it is, to hide it from itſelf, hinders it not from ſeeing perfectly the things which are without itſelf; in which 'tis like our Eyes, which perceive all things, and are only blind with reſpect to themſelves. Indeed in its greateſt Concerns and moſt important Affairs, where the Violence of its Deſires ſummons all its Attention, it ſees, and feels, and hears, and imagines, and ſuſpects, and penetrates, and foreſees every thing ſo well, that a Man would be tempted to believe, that every one of its Paſſions was quieted by a ſort of Magick peculiar to it. Nothing is ſo cloſe and ſtrong as its [343] Engagements, which, in vain it attempts to break at the ſight of great and threatning Diſaſters. Yet ſometimes it effects that in a little time, and with little pains, which it could not effect in the courſe of many Years with all its Endeavours; from whence it may probably enough be concluded, that its Deſires are kindled by itſelf, rather than by the Beauty, or Merits of its Objects; that its own Palate gives them the value that enhances them, and the Gloſs that ſets them off; that itſelf is the thing it purſues, and its own Humour what it follows, when it follows the Objects that ſute its Humour. 'Tis made up of Contraricties, 'tis imperious and ſubmiſſive, ſincere and hypocritical, compaſſionate and cruel, timorous and audacious: It puts on different Inclinations, according to the different Tempers that diſpoſe and devote it ſometimes to Glory, ſometimes to Riches, and ſometimes to Pleaſure; all which too it changes, as our Age, Fortune or Experience change: but as to itſelf, 'tis indifferent whether it has many or but one, becauſe it divides itſelf into many, and collects itſelf into one, as its Pleaſure or Neceſſity requires. 'Tis inconſtant not only from the Changes produc'd by foreign Cauſes, but from a thouſand others, that ſpring from itſelf; 'tis inconſtant from Inconſtancy, Levity, Love, Wearineſs, and Diſguſt; 'tis whimſical, and may be obſerved ſometimes to labour with the utmoſt [344] Vehemence, and with incredible Pains to obtain thoſe things that are not only of no advantage, but are hurtful; which yet purſue it will, meerly becauſe it will. 'Tis fantaſtical, and often ſets all its Application at work about the moſt frivolous Employments; takes delight in the moſt inſipid things, and preſerves all its Haughtineſs in the moſt contemptible Circumſtances. It enters into all States and Conditions of Life: It lives in every place, it lives upon every thing, nay, it lives upon nothing: It makes itſelf eaſy either with the Enjoyment of things, or with the Want of them: It takes part with the People that make war upon it, engages in their Deſigns; and what is wonderful, joins with them in hating itſelf, conſpires its own Deſtruction, and works its own Ruin: In ſhort, its whole Care is to exiſt, and provided it does but exiſt, is content to be its own Enemy. We ought not therefore to be ſurpriz'd, to ſee it aſſociating itſelf with the moſt rigid Auſterity, and entring boldly in league with its Adverſary to deſtroy itſelf, becauſe at the ſame time that it loſes in one place, it gains in another. When we think it renounces its Pleaſure, it only ſuſpends or changes it; and when 'tis ſo conquer'd, that we fancy it entirely routed, we find it triumphing in its own defeat. Behold the true Picture of Self-Love! the whole Life of which is but one great and long Agitation: the Sea is a very ſenſible [345] Image of it; the Waves of which, in their Flux and Reflux, faithfully expreſs the turbulent ſucceſſion of its Thoughts, and the eternal Commotions of its Mind.

No. III. VICE, SIN, EVIL.

VICE implies both Defect and Corruption.

SIN and EVIL, that is, moral Evil, are of the ſame ſignification with Vice; and all the three words ſtand in ſuch an oppoſition to Virtue, as Darkneſs to Light, Confuſion to Order, Sickneſs to Health.

THERE are many other words uſed for Sin, as Iniquity, Tranſgreſſion, Treſpaſs, &c.

INIQUITY, tho' a negative ſort of term, implies a poſitive Breach of Juſtice and Order: and ſo long as the Mind is in the ſelfiſh Principle, it is in the State of Iniquity, even when it does not break out into Actions.

[346] THE Idea of Sin muſt be hateful, becauſe it implies a Violation of Order, which is lovely.

THE Fear of Puniſhment and the Abhorrence of Sin are different things.

IF Self-Love, in the beſt ſenſe it can have, were the Principle of Religion, the greateſt Sin would be againſt ourſelves.

A Man is indeed unjuſt to himſelf, when he acts not up to the Dignity of his Nature; and he is cruel to himſelf, when he brings Shame and Puniſhment upon his own Head: But the Notion of Offence and Crime ſtill ſuppoſes a higher Perſon injured.

SIN or Vice is the only thing that's hateful. Perſonal Hatred is hateful itſelf, and can only ſpring from ſome Diſeaſe of the Mind.

Evil.PHYSICAL or natural Evil (as a thing felt) is but another term for Pain, which is alſo the Conſequence of moral Evil. Thoſe who deny Evil and Pain, muſt only have a Quarrel at the words; and any other words might indeed do as well, if they were as current for expreſſing the oppoſite things to Good and Pleaſure.

[347] MORAL Evil may produce both natural Pain (as Sickneſs after a Debauch) and Remorſe, which may be call'd moral Pain: and both theſe follow upon Sin, by the natural Eſtabliſhment of things.

THUS Men are ſaid to encompaſs themſelves with Sparks of their own kindling: And thus God has made the wicked for the Day of Evil.

No. IV. From H. MORE's Letters.

Lett. 4. ‘"MOREOVER, as the Object of the Intellect is that which is ſimply true, and is aſſented to as ſuch, and not as true to this particular Intellect that contemplates it: (For this is not the Senſe of ſuch an Aſſent, but that it is ſimply and abſolutely true, and cannot but appear ſo to all Intellects that are fitted to contemplate it) ſo there is an Object that is ſimply good and lovely, and to be loved as ſuch, without regard to the Party that thus loves it; but ought to be loved of all, without regard to themſelves, but upon the account that it is ſo univerſally good. [348] Inſomuch that if God ſhould love all intellectual Beings, except One that were at the ſame time to be damn'd for his exceſſive and unparallel'd Wickedneſs, and Contumacy againſt God; it were yet an immenſe Specimen of his Goodneſs: And He were infinitely good, and were ſo to be acknowledged, even by that intellectual Creature that was to be damn'd; and ought to be lov'd by it, (tho' this wicked ſunk Condition makes it incapable of ſo fit a Duty) as well as a true Propoſition is to be aſſented to by him, whoſe Diſintereſt it were that it ſhould be found true. And a Man may as well ſay, that there is no Reaſon but what ariſes from ſelf-intereſted Underſtanding, as no Love but what ariſes from Self-Love. There is that which is abſolutely lovely, and to which Love, without any Self-Regard, is due; as well as there is that which is abſolutely true, and which every Underſtanding ought to ſubſcribe to, if not ſome Default in itſelf hinder."’

‘"AND that Things and Perſons are lovely without Conſideration of our own Utility, methinks is further evident from that Pleaſure and Content we take in the Hiſtory of worthy Perſons, and their excellent Virtues and famous Exploits in former Ages, and in far remote Countries, without any Reflection upon any Intereſt [349] or Profit we have in their Virtues or Actions; but we love them, and rejoice in their Memory, as abſolute Objects of deſerved Love, from thoſe lovely Perfections in them." . . . . . .’ ‘"And where Cicero ſays, that if Virtue could be ſeen with outward Eyes, mirabiles amores ſui excitaret; can we underſtand ſuch Love as is grounded upon Self-Love, not rather ſuch Love as raviſhes one out of Himſelf, and tranſports him to the Object?"’

‘"BUT to paſs by Reaſon, and the Senſe of Philoſophers. . . . . . . . . . That main Duty of every Chriſtian, THOU SHALT LOVE THE LORD THY GOD, WITH ALL THY HEART, AND ALL THY SOUL, AND THY NEIGHBOUR AS THY SELF, to me is not eaſy Senſe, if Self-Love is to be at the bottom; into which, as the very Principle, all Love is to be reſolved. . . . . . . . The former part of this Precept is . . . ſuch an Injunction, that takes a Man quite off from himſelf and all Self-Love. For how can I love God with all my Heart, and all my Soul, if that Love be reſolvible into the Love of myſelf, and ſubordinate to it? * Propter quod unumquodque eſt tale, id magis eſt tale. Suppoſe then my Love to God how ardent [350] you will, my Love to myſelf will be much more ardent. So that God is ſo far from having our whole Heart or Soul, that he does not ſo much as go halves with us. . . . . . . Wherefore it is manifeſt, we are entirely and abſolutely to love God firſt, and to love ourſelves in reference to him, as alſo the reſt of our Fellow-Creatures: all which Love being in reference to God [rapportant a Dieu, as M. Paſcal ſays] it hinders not but that God is ſtill loved with all our Hearts and Souls; and the Love of ourſelves, and of our Neighbour as ourſelves, is but the Fruit of our entire Love to God; and we ſhall be ſure then to love our Neighbour as ourſelves, and ſo as we ought to do."’

'Tis hard to know what to leave out of thoſe Letters: here are yet ſome more ſtrokes of them.

‘". . . WHO can endure to think . . . . or where St. John ſays, Perfect Love caſts out Fear, that he underſtands perfect Self-Love caſts out Fear; which is rather the Source of all Jealouſy, Anxiety and Diſtraction of Mind?"’

‘"LET me offer one Paſſage more out of our Saviour's Sermon on the Mount, Love your Enemies, &c. Now it ſeems [351] to me a marvellous unnatural Analyſe, to reſolve the Love of our Enemies into Self-Love, or Love of ourſelves. The Hatred indeed of them is evidently reſolvible into that."’

1 Cor. xiii.AGAIN, ‘"How can this tranſcendent Grace of Charity be lodged ſo low as in Self-Love? Or, if it be ſo, how can the Apoſtle undertake for it, that it will not ſeek its own," &c.’

‘"THERE is a Fear of God, and there is a mercenary Love of God; and theſe indeed are reſolvible into Self-Love: And the Scripture often applies itſelf to this Principle, to hale us out of the Hurry and Dirt of this World, by forcible Arguments upon thoſe Paſſions."’

Lett. 5HE acknowledges in the next Letter, ‘"That Self-Love may be an occaſional Beginning, or Excitement to Religion; making a familiar Compariſon of Gingerbread given to a Boy, to make him in love with his Book: But Self-Love (he ſays) is a Default, and Blemiſh, and Rottenneſs in Religion and Virtue, rather than an eſſential Principle or Baſis thereof."’

HIS Opponent had ſaid, That Religion does not extirpate Self-Love, but raiſes [352] and ennobles it, and keeps it from ſinking into the animal Life.

‘"BUT this (replies the Doctor) is impoſſible; for as much as Self-Love is the Sink and Fetulency of the animal Life. I underſtand here by Self-Love, loving one's ſelf as ſelf: and therefore Religion does at laſt quite extirpate it."’

HE intimates afterwards (as moſt Chriſtian Divines do) that the Extirpation of Self-Love muſt coſt Mankind very dear: the Old and the New Man, in the Language of the Scripture, ſignifying two oppoſite Principles, one of which muſt unavoidably be deſtroyed, in order to recover our loſt Happineſs.

No. V. RELIGION, CHARITY.

ST. James defines Religion thus: Pure Religion and undefiled before God and the Father is this; To viſit the Fatherleſs and Widows in their Affliction, and to keep ourſelves unſpotted from the World. We ſee what Practices are moſt recommended by that Apoſtle: and the keeping ourſelves unſpotted from the World, implies all that's [353] forbidden by Religion, both as to our Ac [...]ons and our Heart.

RELIGION further requires the Obſervance of other Practices, either ſuppoſed to be inſtituted by God, or appointed by thoſe to whom the Regulation of ſuch things belongs.

THE End of Religion is the ſame thing with the End of the Commandment, which is Charity.

ALL external Practices of Religion are deſign'd for promoting that internal Diſpoſition of Mind, both with reſpect to God and our Neighbour, and from it they derive all their Value. And this Religion is often called a ſpiritual and new Life.

THAT which is called the Religion of a Country, with reſpect to Forms, Uſages and Opinions, reſembles the municipal Laws of a Country, which are peculiar to it. ‘"And ſo (Mr. Paſcal ſays) Orthodoxy on the one ſide of the Pyrenees may be Hereſy on the other."’ Whereas among Chriſtians there is properly but one Religion.

THE Chriſtian Religion therefore may be conſidered as a Body of Doctrine and Precepts delivered from Heaven, which Men ought to follow as the univerſal Standard, [354] and according to which they ought to form their particular Societies.

BUT there is this Difference between the Religion and the Laws of a Country, that a Man muſt ſubmit to theſe of neceſſity; but not always to the Religion: as an Engliſhman may diſſent ſafely from the Church of England.

WHEN People talk of the Cruelties of Religion, Chriſtianity has nothing to anſwer for in that Charge. And when the Clergy are accuſed of Pride, the Accuſation lies properly againſt the defective Nature of Men.

MOST Men allow there is a Diſtinction between the End of Religion, and the Means; they allow alſo a Diſtinction among the Means themſelves, as to Weight or Importance: But the mortal Diſpute remains, what the weightieſt are; and the End is often forgot in the Controverſy.

THE End of Religion is therefore to be conſidered both as the Point to arrive at, and the principal Thing in the Affair.

SOME things may be called Parts of Religion, as well as Helps to it; as Faith, Prayer, Temperance, and whatſoever Jeſus Chriſt has ordered to be done and believed.

[355] PARTICULAR Forms of Religion, that is, ſuch things as are but the Inventions of Men, may be called Helps to it, but not Parts; no more than the Clothes are Parts of the Body, tho' they are of indiſpenſable uſe to it. And in Religion the very Obſervance of particular Modes comes to be a Duty, that, beſides their Uſefulneſs, there may be no offence given to the Society one adheres to. The Parallel between Religion and Clothes cannot be expected to run exactly.

'TIS with reference to religious Forms and Speculations, that Zeal (a good thing in itſelf) becomes both ridiculous and tragical.

AGAIN, as no human Inventions are perfect, to a ſcornful Temper they appear more imperfect than they are.

Charity.CHARITY is taken ſometimes only for giving of Alms, ſometimes for having a favourable Opinion of others: but the proper Interpretation of the word is Love, and St. Paul has fixed the Meaning of it, and clearly ſhewn its effects. 1 Cor. xiii.

IF we believe that God can reward us hereafter, this ſhews that we have Faith: if we ſuffer on a proſpect of Reward, this [356] ſhews that we have Hope: But if we go no farther, where is our Charity? Or where is our Religion? The Devils believe and tremble; and Hope without Charity, were but Preſumption.

RELIGION not only requires a change of the Objects of our Affections, but a change of the Principle likewiſe.

THAT which is not loved for itſelf (ſays St. Auguſtin) is not loved at all: it is only wanted for its Uſefulneſs.

THUS Charity and Self-Love are ever to be conſidered as two oppoſite Principles: and whatever the Apoſtle ſays of the one, the reverſe is to be ſaid of the other. For inſtance, Charity ſeeketh not its own, ſuffereth long, and is kind, thinketh no Evil, rejoiceth not in Iniquity, &c. Self-Love is intereſted, impatient, unkind, and delighted with Scandal.

No. VI. *VIRTUE, JUSTICE, DISINTERESTEDNESS.

[357]

VIRTUE is ſometimes taken only for ſome natural good Quality in Things. Thus 'tis ſaid, ſuch a Thing has a Virtue, or it has loſt its Virtue, the Virtue of Medicines, &c.

VIRTUE in Perſons is meant of the Integrity of their Intentions and Actions; and it may be conſidered too as a Line or Rule by which they are to be examined.

VIRTUE conſidered in itſelf, abſtractly from Things and Perſons, has its Exiſtence only in the Mind, and is called an Abſtraction of the Mind; as a mathematical Line is conſidered without any Breadth: and thus People talk of Colour, Beauty, Proportion, and an infinite number of Qualities, without regard to any particular Subject.

WHEN ſome Perſons talk of the Deceitfulneſs of Virtue, they do not mean that the Rule is fallacious or uncertain, but that Men act not from the Motives they pretend [358] to. The Duke of Rochefoucault ſays, Max. 207."What the World calls Virtue, is commonly but a Phantom form'd by our Paſſions."’

THIS is far from denying there is ſuch a thing as Virtue: on the contrary, that ſame Author ſays, Max. 263."Hypocriſy is an Homage which Vice renders to Virtue."’

IF a Man denies there is any Virtue in the world, he is only ſuppos'd to ſpeak for himſelf and his own Club.

CICERO makes all Virtues to center in Juſtice: and St. Auguſtin * makes them all to center in the Love of God, which may be called the higheſt Juſtice.

VIRTUE, according to the oldeſt acceptation of the word, is particularly reckon'd a Force of Mind: and the Inclinations of Man being much corrupted, it conſiſts much in the ſtruggle with theſe Inclinations. But [359] yet no body denies that Virtue has Charms and Attractions.

Juſtice.JUSTICE or Righteouſneſs is another abſtract Term, that's conſidered ſometimes without regard to Actions: but 'tis only from it that they can have their Worth.

MAN is ſo framed as to ſee Juſtice, and even to love it, naturally: and to have no Senſe of Juſtice, is the ſame as to have no Conſcience.

THUS the Senſe of Juſtice, Conſcience, moral Senſe, are Words of the ſame ſignification; and the moral Senſe is as natural to Man, as any of the Senſes that belong to his Body.

Diſintereſtedneſs.DISINTERESTEDNESS is that upright State of Mind by which a Man acts from a higher View than that of his own Good: or a diſintereſted Man may be ſaid to have no Byaſs that's capable to turn him aſide from his Duty.

HOWEVER Duty and Intereſt may unite in the Event, yet they differ widely as to the Motives.

THE diſintereſted State goes indeed higher than we are aware of, but it is ſtill a real one, not Chimerical.

[360] DISINTERESTEDNESS may at leaſt be conſidered as Health, by which the Functions of the animal Life are performed with eaſineſs.

AND as Health is conſidered as a Foundation for bodily Pleaſure, ſo Diſintereſtedneſs (which is a Soundneſs of the Mind) may be reckon'd a Foundation for thoſe Pleaſures that are called Virtuous and Spiritual.

AGAIN, when Diſintereſtedneſs is called the Soul of Friendſhip, the Life of Religion, and the like, it is indeed conſidered in a poſitive Senſe, and as a Principle itſelf; tho', ſtrictly ſpeaking, it is but the Effect of a higher Principle.

IT may be called a diſintereſted Action, which the Agent would have done juſt the ſame way, tho' he had foreſeen no Profit in it to himſelf.

No. VII. From Mr. PASCAL. Sect. 26.

[361]

‘"MANKIND having no infallible Remedy againſt Ignorance, Miſery, and Death, imagine that ſome Reſpite, ſome Shelter may at leaſt be found, by agreeing to baniſh them from their Meditation. This is the only Comfort they have been able to invent under their numerous Calamities. But a moſt miſerable Comfort it proves; becauſe it does not tend to the removal of theſe Evils, but only to the concealment of them for a ſhort ſeaſon; and becauſe in thus concealing them, it hinders us from applying ſuch proper means as ſhould remove them."’

‘"THUS by a ſtrange Revolution in the Nature of Man, that Grief and inward Diſquiet, which he dreads as the greateſt of ſenſible Evils, is in one reſpect his greateſt Good; becauſe it might contribute, more than all things beſides, to the putting him in a ſucceſsful method of Recovery. On the other hand, his [362] *Recreation, which he ſeems to prize as his ſovereign Good, is indeed his greateſt Evil: becauſe it is of all things the moſt effectual in making him negligent under his Diſtemper. And both the one and the other are admirable Proofs, as of Man's Miſery and Corruption, ſo of his Greatneſs and Dignity. For the reaſon why he grows ſick and weary of every Object, and engages in ſuch a multitude of Purſuits, is, becauſe he ſtill retains the Idea of his loſt Happineſs; which not finding within himſelf, he ſeeks it thro' the whole Circle of external things: but always ſeeks without ſucceſs, becauſe it is indeed to be found, not in ourſelves, nor in the Creatures, but in God alone."’

Mr. Kennet's Tranſlation.

No. VIII.

[363]

‘CIVITATES duas fecerunt Amores duo: Civitatem Mundi, quae & Babylonia dicitur, Amor ſui, uſque ad contemptum Dei; Civitatem Dei, quae & Jeruſalem dicitur, Amor Dei, uſque ad contemptum ſui. St. Aug. de Civit. Dei.

‘SAPIENTISSIMUS vitae noſtrae Magiſter, nempe & Auctor, unicum dedit ad vivendum Documentum, UT AMEMUS; gnarus vitam noſtram, ſi amemus fore faeliciſſimam, nec aliis opus Legibus. Nihil faelicius quam amare: Idcirco Deus & Angeli faeliciſſimi, quia amant omnia. Infaelicius nihil quam non amare, quo affectu miſerrimi ſunt Diaboli. L. VIVES Introductio ad veram Sapientiam.

No. IX. ARRIAN, Lib. II. Cap. XXII.

[364]

THIS Philoſopher (after Cicero and Socrates) conſidering the Force that Profit, or what appears profitable, has over Mankind; and deſigning to recommend Virtue to their earneſt Purſuit, labours to perſuade them that nothing is profitable but what is virtuous: he affirms, that it is only Wiſdom to love what is really good and uſeful; but that we have ſuch a Byaſs to ourſelves, that if we ſhall place Virtue and Utility on different ſides, we ſhall of conſequence betake ourſelves to the ſide we think profitable. So Arrian deſigns in this Chapter concerning Friendſhip to inform our Judgment as to our Duties, and to give us a view of our innate Selfiſhneſs. The whole Chapter ſhould be read, and it will appear whether this good Heathen has been an Advocate for the intereſted Principle or not.

'TIS true, he ſays no Creature is ſo much reconcil'd to another, as to its own Profit; which no doubt is the Caſe with Men in the common State of Nature: But thoſe who [365] own Chriſtianity, as they are ſtill more perſuaded of this Corruption, ſo they ſee a greater difficulty of getting free of it, for the Heart is corrupted as well as the Underſtanding is darkened; and it was to this latter Faculty that the Stoicks chiefly applied themſelves, thinking if the Underſtanding was rightly inform'd, all the work was done.

BUT it does not infer, that they thought Intereſt the chief Principle that ſhould determine Men, becauſe they pointed out where the true Intereſt lies; no more than the Scriptures can be brought to ſupport that Principle, becauſe in teaching Men the way to Happineſs, they ſometimes make uſe of Arguments from Hope and Fear.

IN the ſame manner, ſome great Men among the Heathens have condeſcended to the Weakneſs of thoſe they were endeavouring to inſtruct. They knew that Virtue is not perfect, nor ſuch at it ought to be, while Intereſt is the Motive; and they themſelves could be virtuous without regard to it: but they knew likewiſe the Diſorders of Human Nature, and that Profit was the chief Bait; and have therefore taken pains to ſhew that Virtue and Profit are inſeparable. But if we would judge of the Purity of their Sentiments, it muſt be from the Places where the Diſpoſitions of their own Hearts are mark'd. The following Words of Epictetus [366] may be conſidered, and they add a great Luſtre to the Doctrine of the Stoicks.

‘"IS it thy Will that I continue in Life? I will continue in it, and in a free and generous manner, as it pleaſes thee; for thou haſt created me of ſuch a nature, that I cannot be conſtrained in what concerns me."’

‘"BUT haſt thou no more for me to do? Bleſſed be thy Name! It is for thee, and for thee alone, that I have liv'd unto this Hour; and now I go away, in obedience to thee."’

‘"How would'ſt thou go thy ways? I go my ways as it pleaſes thee, as thy Servant, as having had the advantage of knowing what thou commandeſt, and what thou forbiddeſt."’

‘"But what Station doſt thou appoint me, while I live and converſe among thy Works? A Prince, or a private Perſon? A Senator, or one of the common People? A Soldier, Captain, School-Maſter, or Father of a Family? The Place and the Station which thou haſt aſſign'd to me, I will maintain, and die a thouſand Deaths rather than deſert it. I go where thou wouldſt have me; to Rome or Athens, to Thebes or to the Gyarae-Iſlands; [367] I go willingly. Only be thou there mindful of me. If thou ſendeſt me where Men cannot naturally live, I will not leave it contrary to thy Will: I will wait till thou commandeſt me to retire: I will not forſake thee; I will think thou haſt no more occaſion for my Service."’ Arrian, Book III. Chap. XXIV.

ONE might eaſily heap up Quotations of the ſame kind from this and other Authors, but it would be to no purpoſe: for allowing Defects in the Heathen Philoſophy, the Chriſtian Doctrine is ſtill out of the reach of Cenſure, and Diſintereſtedneſs is one of its diſtinguiſhing Characters.

No. X. TRUTH.

TRUTH is of the ſame import or ſignification with Reality: ſo that to know the Truth, is to know the Value of Things.

TRUTH (ſays Sir Francis Bacon) is a naked and open Day-light, that does not ſhew the Masks, and Mummeries, and Triumphs [368] of this World half ſo ſtately and daintily as Cande-lights. Eſſays. I.*

THE Love of Truth (conſidered morally) is the ſame with the Love of Juſtice. Thus the Apoſtle ſays, Charity rejoiceth not in Iniquity, but rejoiceth in the Truth.

ALL Truths are equal as to their Reality, but very unequal as to their Importance: and the Knowledge of the higheſt Truths, if it goes no farther than bare Speculation, is but Amuſement.

THE oppoſite things to Truth and Reality are Falſhood, Error, Lyes, Deluſion; and the Mind takes pleaſure in the one ſide or the other, according to the Diſpoſition it is in.

THE greateſt Breach of Truth, or the worſt kind of Lying, conſiſts in the Intention to deceive or injure. A Lye that has no End to ſerve, is not very conceivable; but there are Ends which muſt be own'd to be very frivolous.

[369] MAN'S Love of Truth, is an Argument of his Dignity.

HONOUR is properly a Regard for Truth. Falſe Honour is a ſort of Contradiction, or at beſt 'tis but a Regard for Punctilio's. But even this common Honour of the World is a conſiderable Guard againſt ſeveral kinds of Proſtitution and Falſhood.

No. XI. Why the Words (HEB. XII.) are ſuppos'd to mean inſtead of the Joy ſet before him, &c. rather than becauſe of the Joy, &c.

PASSING by all the Arguments that might be brought to prove the Sufferings of JESUS CHRIST to have been the Effect of his Pity to Mankind, and not for any Advantage to himſelf, or the Proſpect of Intereſt; ſuch Arguments ſeeming derogatory, as well as ſuperfluous, from the Inſtances of Moſes and St. Paul, who went ſuch lengths for their Brethren as cannot naturally be reſolv'd into Self-Intereſt, however People may differ as to the meaning of [370] theſe Expreſſions, Blotted out of the Book of Life, and the like: I ſay, waving all theſe Arguments, I ſhall confine myſelf to the words themſelves, as they ſtand with relation to other words not far from them; the Text being ſtill beſt explain'd by the Context.

I ſhall not inſiſt neither on the common Acceptation of the Prepoſition [...], ſince if at any time it be found in a different meaning, it may be contended to have that meaning here. However, Caſtellio's Tranſlation runs pro laetitia ſibi propoſita; Beza has it pro ſibi propoſito gaudio; and the vulgar Latin, ſuppreſſing the Prepoſition entirely, renders it propoſito ſibi gaudio: but perhaps the word propoſito has been deſign'd to be divided, and the Prepoſition to ſtand. Beza's Note or Paraphraſe on the Margin is ſtill more remarkable: Qui quum omne genus Beatitatis in manu ac poteſtate haberet, tamen ultro ignominiam Crucis ſubiit. Which is alſo to be ſound in Engliſh on the Margin of our Bibles.

BUT let us look at the end of the firſt Verſe of that Chapter, and we ſhall find the ſame words repeated in the ſecond; and conſequently they are to have the ſame Interpretation, in order to make out the Parallel or Compariſon, by which the Apoſtle exhorts Chriſtians to run the Race, or undergo [371] the Conflict, appointed or ſet before them, as our Saviour endured the Croſs inſtead of the Joy that was appointed or ſet before him. The ſame words ſet before appear in both Verſes, and it is juſt ſo in the * Greek: which ſhews that the Joy ſet before our Saviour was not a thing at a diſtance, or propoſed to him as the Condition of his enduring the Croſs; but that he choſe to bear the Suffering when he was already ſecure of the Joy, or had it before him. His Example is indeed recommended to us, that we may not be wearied; and his Recompence is alſo repreſented to us (in his ſitting at the right hand of God) as a Motive to make us run that Race without fainting: but there can be no Inference that he needed ſuch a Motive; and here the Compariſon fails between him and Mortals, the Joy having been ſtill in his power.

WE ſee alſo a Choice made by Moſes, in the former Chapter, rather to ſuffer Affliction with the People of God, than to enjoy the Pleaſures of Sin for a ſeaſon. We muſt ſuppoſe a Difference in the Pleaſures ſet before Moſes and JESUS CHRIST: it was but the Pleaſures of Egypt that were propoſed to Moſes, and theſe he rejected. The Joy propoſed to JESUS CHRIST, or ſet before him, was at a diſtance from Moſes; [372] and we are only told he had an Eye to it, as the Reward of his Choice.

IT is obſervable, that JESUS CHRIST is not included by St. Paul in that Cloud of Witneſſes, as being in a ſuperior order. He is the Author and Finiſher of our Faith, and ſat down at the right hand of God, as taking poſſeſſion himſelf of his recompence, or reaſſuming what he had left for a while, and what he always might have kept.

I need not run thro' all the Parallel between our Saviour and Moſes: it will eaſily appear wherein it agrees and wherein it differs, as all Compariſons do differ in ſomething. It is not indeed in that Inſtance of Moſes's rejecting the Pleaſures of Egypt, that we find ſuch Proof of his Diſintereſtedneſs as of his Wiſdom; tho' ſtill there may be an Eye to a Recompence conſiſtent with the Love of Juſtice: and this Proſpect and Love of Reward may be ſo far from excluding the Love of Juſtice, that upon occaſions all views of Intereſt may be extinguiſhed in the ſame Perſon, and Juſtice remain the only Motive or Conſideration: as in the inſtance of Moſes's offering to ſuffer for his Brethren. Inferior Motives may certainly conſiſt with ſuperior ones, and the former may ſometimes give way, as they always ought to do when Order requires it. 'Tis oppoſite things only (like Fire and Water) [373] that cannot be united, or conſiſt together; ſuperior and inferior Motives are not oppoſite, but different.

BUT I will not trouble the Reader with any more reaſoning upon that Point, having only deſign'd here a ſort of Criticiſm upon a Text of Scripture, to ſupport a Reading that all foreign Churches agree to; and it cannot be affirmed that our Engliſh Tranſlators (tho' they have left it a little doubtful) have poſitively deſign'd that their Tranſlation for the Joy ſhould be underſtood to ſignify becauſe of the Joy. We ſee in other places, that for very often ſignifies inſtead of, or in exchange; as they rewarded me Evil for Good, and the like. Nay, the Tranſlation of Beza's *Note (on the Margin of our larger Bibles) is a fair preſumption, that they have meant as he meant.

MILTON makes the Senſe of that Particle very plain, when he regrets the loſs of his Sight in ſuch moving Terms:

But Cloud inſtead, and ever-during Dark
Surrounds me, from the chearful ways of Men
Cut off, and for the Book of Knowledge fair
Preſented with an univerſal Blank.

No. XII.

[374]

‘AMOR (ex quo Amicitia nominata) princeps eſt ad Benevolentiam conjungendam: nam Utilitates quidem etiam ab iis percipiuntur ſaepe, qui ſimulatione Amicitiae coluntur, & obſervantur temporis cauſâ. In Amicitia autem nihil fictum eſt, nihil ſimulatum; & quicquid in Amicitia eſt, id verum eſt & voluntarium. . . . Quapropter a Naturâ mihi videtur potius quam ab indigentiâ orta Amicitia, applicatione magis animi cum quodam ſenſu amandi, quam cogitatione quantum illa res utilitatis eſſet habitura. . . . . . Non igitur utilitatem Amicitia, ſed utilitas Amicitiam conſecuta eſt. . . . . Sed plerique Amicos tanquam pecudes, eos potiſſimum diligunt ex quibus ſperant ſe maximum fructum eſſe capturos. Itaque pulcherrimâ illâ & maxime naturali carent Amicitiâ per ſe & propter ſe expetenda. Nec ipſi ſibi exemplo ſunt, haec vis Amicitiae qualis & quanta ſit. Ipſe enim ſe quiſque diligit, non ut aliter a ſeipſo mercedem exigat charitatis ſuae, ſed quod per ſe ſibi quiſque charus eſt; quod niſi idem in Amicitiam transferatur, verus Amicus nunquam reperietur. Eſt enim is [375] Amicus quidem, qui eſt tanquam alter idem. . . . . . Amare enim nihil aliud eſt niſi eum ipſum diligere quem ames, nullâ indigentiâ, nullâ utilitate quaeſitâ. Cic. de Amicitiâ paſſim.

No. XIII.

WITH ſubmiſſion to the Duke of Rochefoucault, I'm unwilling to call by the name of Self-Love all the Irregularities of Human Nature: neither the Violence of our Paſſions, nor the Fooliſhneſs of our Imaginations are Self-Love. We feel and imagine, and we cannot help it: Our Senſes are all paſſive, and our Imagination is often crouded with things we would gladly be rid of. Our Underſtanding is in a manner paſſive too, as it ſees by Intuition, like the bodily Eye; its Activity conſiſting only in comparing things together, in adding, ſubſtracting, weighing, meaſuring, and the like, all which are of the Province of Reaſon; and thus Reaſon may be call'd both active and paſſive; paſſive, as it perceives the Connections and Proportions of things; and active, as it examines and lays things in order. But neither wrong Reaſoning nor right Reaſoning is Self-Love; nor can the Diſorders of any Faculty be imputed [376] to the Faculty itſelf. Reaſon is ſure within its own Sphere, but is bewilder'd and loſt when it pretends to go father: And Self-Love is lawful within due Allowances, but unlawful when it violates Order.

To know this Order, and what we are deſign'd for, has been much at heart with ſome good Heathens.

Quid ſumus, & quidnam victuri gignimur, Ordo
Quis datus—

They were faithful to their Light: what a Change would Revelation have made in their Doctrine! How differently would the good Antoninus have writ, had he heard of the Fall of Adam, and of the preſent Corruption of Nature! One Sett of the Deiſts borrow moſt of their Scheme from him. . . .

THE Violation of Order would never happen in a ſound Mind without ſome wrong Biaſs towards Self. . .The Heart ſeems to be firſt corrupted. . . . . . So that Intereſtedneſs may be call'd the Source of Diſorder. . . . . . Nor is Self-Love and Intereſtedneſs properly the ſame. . . . . . Much leſs is it true that has been affirm'd by ſome Perſons, ‘"That all Love muſt be intereſted, not excepting the Love of God to his Creatures."’ 'Tis but very few that are of this Opinion, and [377] the ancient Perſians had a quite different Notion of God, when they ſaid, He is the Author of all Good, and intirely diſintereſted.

DISINTERESTEDNESS may be conſidered as the Foundation of that active Principle call'd Charity. All Love (ſtrictly ſpeaking) is diſintereſted; the Love we bear to ourſelves is certainly ſo, as Cicero obſerved, and ought to be the meaſure of our Love towards our Neighbour. The Love of God is a higher Attainment.

THERE was one thing that gave a great Diſcouragement from this poor Undertaking, viz. That what is ſaid on the Love of God will be very inſipid to thoſe, who have felt ever ſo little of the thing, or are acquainted with ſuch Authors as have wrote of it from their own Experience. But I have told all my Deſign in the Introduction. . . . . .

THO' the Enemies of Chriſtianity have taken advantage of ſome Expreſſions of the Clergy in favour of Self-Love, and the Sufficiency of Reaſon; yet neither of theſe Doctrines is eſpous'd by any Party in the groſs, but rather rejected by the greateſt number of all Parties; Papiſts, Proteſtants, and all the Branches of theſe laſt. ‘"Be on your guard (ſays Dr. Evans) againſt Selfiſhneſs, or ſuch an Addictedneſs to [378] yourſelves, as ſhall confine your Regards within the narrow Circle of Self. Such a Self-Love is the main Principle of all the Evils and Diſorders in the World; it makes Men undutiful to God, and uſeleſs if not pernicious to thoſe about them."’ And how finely has Mr. Butler of the Rolls Chapel expreſs'd himſelf againſt Self-Love in his Sermons! Evans ſays alſo of the Love of God, ‘"That it is indeed the firſt and great Commandment: it is firſt in order of Nature, and in the Preeminence of the Object to which it relates, &c."’

AMONG the Writers of the Church of Rome the Expreſſions are no leſs remarkable both againſt Self-Love, and for the pure Love of God. Citations might be produc'd in great plenty from Writers in all Ages. Thoſe who wrote the earlieſt, gave their Teſtimony to pure Love, and no doubt had inſiſted more upon it, but that the Doctrine of Self-Love had not then ſet up its Horns. Theſe Words of *St. Auguſtin can hardly be forgot, ‘"Habent aliam cauſam boniquare temporalibus affligantur malis, qualem habuit Job: ut ſibi-ipſi humanus animus ſit probatus & cognitus, quanta virtute pietatis gratis Deum diligat."’ As to Job, a Queſtion was indeed put by the Devil, [379] Does Job ſerve God for nought? But the following part of the Hiſtory ſufficiently ſhew'd Job's Diſintereſtedneſs as well as his Patience.

. . . . No body can deny that the Scripture inſiſts upon Rewards and Puniſhments, as Arguments drawn from our own Intereſt: but Intereſt ought not to juſtle out Duty, Juſtice, and Order; nor even to be preferr'd to theſe. Henry More had reaſon to mention that Maxim of Ariſtotle, odd as it looks, propter quod unumquodque eſt tale, &c. for 'tis certain, that whatever is regarded chiefly for the ſake of another thing, is the leaſt regarded of the two. But 'tis carefully to be remember'd, that the Scripture is accommodated to the State of Mortals, and ſpeaks to the ſtronger and the weaker, to thoſe of better Diſpoſitions, and thoſe of worſe; yet Jeſus Chriſt ſays to all, Be ye perfect, &c. We muſt obſerve farther, that the Promiſes annex'd to our Duty are not given barely as an Incitement to it, but alſo to ſhew the Diſpoſitions we muſt be in, before we can attain to the Happineſs deſign'd for us; as for inſtance, before we can ſee God we muſt be pure in Heart.

A modern Logician, Monſ. Crouſaz, ſays very well upon the different Diſpoſitions of People with reſpect to Virtue; 'tis to this purpoſe: ‘"The bare Knowledge of Virtue [380] determines one Perſon to cleave to it; another needs the Majeſty of a Lawgiver to be added; a third has need of Promiſes; a fourth of Threats; and a fifth of Blows."’ Here is a Gradation of Virtue from the higheſt Form to the loweſt: the loweſt is very low, and the higheſt as high as Dr. More or the Biſhop of Cambray wou'd demand. If Monſ. Crouſaz ſpeaks ſometimes favourably of Self-Love (I mean the intereſted Principle) the like has happen'd to very good Perſons, even among the Clergy . . . . . . . which led me into that Criticiſm (No. XI.) and I'm not yet ſure if it ſhould ſtand: But it was owing to a Sermon of Biſhop Bull, which every body may ſee in print. 'Tis uneaſy to differ from a learned and good Man. But what ſhall one do when a greater number of learned and good Men are on the other ſide of the Queſtion? Here is another Biſhop of the ſame Church, Biſhop Lake, he ſays in his Sermon on Math. xxii. 27. ‘"If there be any thing that may be lov'd jointly with God, it muſt not ſhare equally with God, but keep its diſtance, and receive our Love by a Reflection from God. . . . . . Thus if we love God. . . . . . . . . we love him above all things, and we love him for himſelf; for that muſt needs follow, when we love him for no other thing, no not for our own ſelves, but are willing to hazard all, even ourſelves and all, for the Love of [381] him."’ How far is Diſintereſtedneſs carry'd in that Prayer of *Sir Thomas More's! . . . . . . I have often wonder'd how this Principle ſhould give ſuch Alarm, as if the Quiet of the World was in danger from it. In the firſt place, it is not likely to be much practiſed, and then it can never be ſo interpreted, as if People were forbid to take due care of themſelves; for if a Man did not ſo, he would be ill taken care of, as the World is. But in dealing with the World and Almighty God, the Rules are widely different: with him there is no uſe for Caution and Reſerve, but the more unlimited the Truſt and Dependance, ſo much the greater the Safety and Happineſs. How agreeable is it to reflect on the Conſtitution of Things, and to find Happineſs reſult from the Obſervance of Order and Duty!

How Diſorder firſt enter'd into the World, is like to remain a Secret to Mankind, and it ſeems to be of little uſe to go into Metaphyſical Inquiries about it; ſince whatever way the Queſtion were reſolved, it would make no alteration either in our Duty, or in the Nature of Things: Diſintereſtedneſs [382] will always be our Dury, and our Duty will always be our Intereſt. But the Ideas of theſe two are different, however they may coincide in the Event; and in all Duties the Value will ever be meaſur'd by the Motive.

IN this Point even Chriſtians and Deiſts ſeem to be agreed, for Diſintereſtedneſs is a common Principle between them. And when any Chriſtians ſet up for Intereſtedneſs, the Deiſts make a handle of it to diſparage Chriſtianity: Again, when Chriſtians ſet up for the Sufficiency of Reaſon, the Deiſts are fond of their Expreſſions, and quote them to prove Chriſtianity an uſeleſs thing. . . . . . One great Difference between Chriſtianity and Deiſm is this, Chriſtianity repreſents human Nature in a ſtate of Diſorder, the Underſtanding limited and confus'd, the Paſſions tumultuous, and the Heart corrupted; and conſequently a neceſſity of ſuperior Aſſiſtance. Deiſm gives a quite different Repreſentation, as if every thing in Man was intire, and nothing ſo eaſy as the balancing of the Paſſions, and all the reſt. The difference between Chriſtianity and Deiſm in the point of Self-Denial follows of courſe: Chriſtians at leaſt profeſs it. And if the Deiſts alledge they are not in earneſt, and believe leſs than they pretend to; it can never come to a Demonſtration, and the Chriſtians may alledge, that the Deiſts believe [383] more than they own, the external and rational Evidences for Chriſtianity being ſo ſtrong. . . . . . . . Nor is Chriſtianity a Doctrine of Vexation and Sorrow: it only ſets things before us as they are; that we may not be deceiv'd with falſe Appearances. What Situation of Fortune can be ſufficient to tranſport any Perſon, that reflects on the Preſent State of the World, and the Variety of Evils, both natural and moral? . . . . . . . . The World is felt to be what it is. Philoſophy is for the moſt part but Grimace.

BUT it is not ſo much the Inſufficiency of things, as the Injuſtice of Self-Love, that I had a mind to repreſent; that Principle by which a Man would make himſelf the Center of the Univerſe! And I hope it will not be reckon'd too preſumptuous, if I endeavour this once to ſtate the Queſtion concerning Self-Love and the Love of God in ſuch a way, that all Chriſtians may (if poſſible) agree in it.

THE Queſtion here is not whether we are to love God, or whether it be our Intereſt to love him, or whether it be the Will and the Glory of God, that he ſhould be lov'd by all intelligent Creatures, (for in theſe things all Chriſtians are agreed;) but the Queſtion is, whether we are to love him from the Motive of his Perfection, or from that of our own Indigence; whether we are to [384] love him for the ſake of our own perſonal Advantage. bee uſe we cannot be happy without him, or becauſe he is indeed the moſt amiable Object, without conſidering our own Advantage whether we are to love him, becauſe it is juſt and right in itſelf, or becauſe our own Hopes and Fears determine us? If it be ſaid, we ought to love him both becauſe it is juſt in itſelf, and alſo becauſe it is our Intereſt; it may be anſwer'd, that as theſe Motives are not to be equal, (otherwiſe we ſhould love God and ourſelves equally) the Queſtion comes to be, whether Intereſt ſhall give place to Juſtice, or Juſtice give place to Intereſt? For however both theſe Motives may ſubſiſt together at firſt, yet the leſſer Motive will and ought to be ſwallow'd up by the greater. Now if we will but conſider as carefully the Juſtice there is in loving God, as the particular Profit that ſhall accrue to us by it, we ſhall at laſt be ſo penetrated with the Senſe of the Juſtice of the thing, as to reflect no more on our Profit; or if we do, we ſhall find that tho' Profit accompanies our Love, yet it is no longer worthy to be the Motive of it; and that as the leaſt By-view to Intereſt renders Love leſs perfect, ſo it is only that Love, which is without any ſuch View, that is abſolutely pure and perfect: becauſe in that Love, the Lover, forgetting himſelf, wholly rejoices only in the Beloved. And this (however ſome have call'd it a Refinement) [385] is no more than what the Nature of the thing requires, and what Cicero has even required in Friendſhip.

AGAIN, if we ſtill love ourſelves with a diſtinct Love, independent on that of God, how ſhall we ever get ſo far out of the ſelfiſh State, as to love God with all our Heart and all our Strength? And yet this great Duty is acknowledged by all Chriſtians, and the Practice of it in the full and literal Meaning of the Words is the higheſt Perfection: for the End of the Commandment is Charity, and Love is the fulfilling of the Law. Whatever inferiour Motives therefore our Imperfections, may ſtand in need of in the beginning, yet they muſt at laſt give way to a more perfect Principle: ſo that if any ſhall take upon them to condemn the pure diſintereſted Love of God, I ſee not how they can reconcile this with their own Acknowledgement, that He is to be loved with all our Heart.

FINIS.

Appendix A Books printed for J. Osborn and T. Longman.

[]
  • I. INtroduction to Natural Philoſophy: or, Philoſophical Lectures read in the Univerſity of Oxford, Anno Dom. 1700. To which are added, the Demonſtrations of Monſieur Huygens's Theorems, concerning the Centrifugal Force and Circular Motion. By John Keil, M. D. Savilian Profeſſor of Aſtronomy, F. R. S. Tranſlated from the laſt Edition of the Latin, 8vo. 2d Edit.
  • II. The Religious Philoſopher: Or, the right Uſe of Contemplating the Works of the Creator, 1. In the wonderful Structure of Animal Bodies, and in particular Man. 2. In the no leſs wonderful and wiſe Formation of the Elements. 3. In the moſt amazing Structure of the Heavens, with all its Furniture. Deſigned for the Conviction of Atheiſts and Infidels; throughout which, all the late Diſcoveries in Anatomy, Philoſophy, and Aſtronomy, together with the various Experiments made uſe of to Illuſtrate the ſame, are moſt copiouſly handled, by that learned Mathematician Dr. Nieuwenlytt. Tranſlated from the Low-Dutch. To which is prefix'd a Letter to the Tranſlator, by Dr. Deſaguliers. The Third Edition, adorned with Cuts, in Two Volumes, 4to.
  • III. An Analytick Treatiſe of Conick Sections, and their Uſe for reſolving of Equations in determinate Problems; being the Poſthumous Works of the Marquis de L' Hoſpital, Honorary Fellow of the Academy Royal of Sciences. Made Engliſh by E. Stone, F. R. S. 4to.
  • IV. Mathematical Elements of Natural Philoſophy, confirmed by Experiments: Or, an Introduction to Sir Iſaac Newton's Philoſophy. Written in Latin by William James's Graveſande, Doctor of Laws, and Philoſophy, Profeſſor of Mathematicks, and Aſtronomy, at Leyden. [] Tranſlated into Engliſh by Dr. Deſaguliers, in Two Volumes, 8vo. The 2d Edit. corrected.
  • V. A New Method of Chemiſtry; including the Theory and Practice of that Art: Laid down on Mechanical Principles, and accommodated to the Uſes of Life. The whole making a Clear and Rational Syſtem of Chemical Philoſophy. To which is prefixed a Critical Hiſtory of Chemiſtry and Chemiſts, from the Origin of the Art to the preſent Time. Done from the Original of the very learned H. Boerhaave, Profeſſor of Chemiſtry, Botany, and Medicine, in the Univerſity of Leyden, and Member of the Royal Academy of Sciences at Paris. With additional Notes and Sculptures. By P. Shaw, M. D. and E. Chambers, Gent. 4to.
  • VI. Medical Eſſays and Obſervations, reviſed and publiſhed by a Society in Edinburgh, containing an Account of the State of the Air and Epidemical Diſeaſes, Tracts on Drugs, Chemiſtry, Anatomy, Animal Oeconomy, Theory and Practice of Surgery and Medicine, with the New Improvements made, and Books publiſhed any where elſe on all the Parts of Phyſick.
  • VII. The Anatomy of the Human Bones; to which are added, an Anatomical Treatiſe of the Nerves; An Account of the reciprocal Motions of the Heart, and a Deſcription of the Human Lacteal Sac and Duct; by Alexander Monro, Profeſſor of Anatomy in the Univerſity of Edinburgh, F. R. S. The Second Edition corrected and enlarged.
  • VIII. Pharmacopoeia Officinalis & Extemporanea; or, a complete Engliſh Diſpenſatory, in Four Parts. Containing, I. The Theory of Pharmacy, and the ſeveral Proceſſes therein. II. A Deſcription of the Officinal Simples, with their Virtues and Preparations, Galenical and Chemical. III. The Officinal Compoſitions, according [] to the laſt Alterations of the College: Together with ſome others of uncommon Efficacy, taken from the moſt celebrated Authors. IV. Extemporaneous Preſcriptions, diſtributed into Claſſes ſuitable to their Intentions in Cure. To which is added, An Account of the Common Adulterations both of Simples and Compounds; with ſome Marks to detect them by. By John Quincy, M. D. The Ninth Edition, much enlarged and corrected.

    N. B. In this Ninth Edition, the Part relating to the Simples is improved; the Officinal Part is compared anew with the London Diſpenſatory; and ſomewhat enlarged: and to prevent Miſtakes, the Phyſicians Marks of Quantities, are changed for Words at length. Many conſiderable Paſſages are added, from the Author's other Works; ſome other Additions are occaſionally made; all which are diſtinguiſhed by an Italick Letter; and the whole Work is carefully corrected.

  • IX. A New Practice of Phyſick; wherein the various Diſeaſes incident to the Human Body are orderly deſcribed, their Cauſes aſſign'd, their Diagnoſtics and Prognoſtics enumerated, and the Regimen proper in each delivered; with a competent Number of Medicines for every Stage and Symptom thereof, preſcribed after the Manner of the moſt eminent Phyſicians among the Moderns, and particularly thoſe of London. The whole formed on the Model of Dr. Sydenham, and compleating the Deſign of his Proceſſus Integri. In Two Volumes. By Peter Shaw, M. D. 8vo. 2d Edit.
  • X. Sir Iſaac Newton's Mathematical Philoſophy, more eaſily demonſtrated; with Dr. Halley's Account of Comets, Illuſtrated. Being Forty Lectures read in the publick Schools at Cambridge. By W. Whiſton, M. A. for the uſe of the young Students there. The Third Edition, 8vo.
Notes
*
Quid enim homini accidit infaelicius, quid turpius, quàm confuſio actionum Mentis Corporiſque? Boerhaave Diſſert. de Chemia.
*
[...] M. Antonin. Lib. II. 2. [...] Lib. III. 16.
*
Deprehenduntur enim ibidem fulcimenta, columnae, trabes, propugnacula, hypomochlia, cunei, vectes, trochleae determinantes, funes, praela, folles, cribra, filtra, canales, receptacula. Inſtitutiones 40.
Inſtitut. 393.
*
Evidenter ſequitur poſſe Lapides adinſtar Plantarum creſcere ac vegetare: quia revera Lapidum Pori permeabiles ſunt. Upon which he tells of a Shell-fiſh, call'd Dactilus Marinus, found in the midſt of Stone alive, and very agreeable to the Taſte, not far from Naples. De Vegetatione Lapidum.
*
Leviathan, Chap. 1.
*
‘["They received the uſe of the five Operations of the Lord, and in the ſixth place He imparted them Underſtanding; and in the ſeventh, Speech, an Interpreter of the Cogitations thereof." Ecclus. 17.]’ Whatever may be in Grotius's Conjecture, that this Paſſage has been put on the Margin (and it looks to have been ſo) by ſome Follower of the Stoicks, it ſtill ſhews that this way of claſſing our external Senſes is pretty ancient: and it ſeems even to anſwer the purpoſe well enough; for we can find out no other Operation for diſcovering and ſurveying the Qualities of outward things, and for putting them to uſe.
*

Papillae molles, pulpoſae, medulloſae, nerveae, pyramidales, in nervis ſubcutaneis duris, exutâ membranâ exteriori emollitis, ortae, hinc admodum ſenſiles factae, affluenti aſſiduò tenuiſſimo liquore humectatae, epidermide tenuiſſimâ defenſae; illibatâ ſua ſenſibilitate, intra ſinus, foveaſque, ſub cuticula latentes; in locis tactui exercendo propriis, nempe linguâ apice digitorum in manibus, pedibuſque, contractiles; iterumque emiſſiles; ſunt Organum corporeum quo explorata corpora tangi dicuntur. Boerhaave Inſtitut.

He ſhews afterwards by what means Touch ariſes, and how the different Perceptions are excited of Heat and Cold, &c.Tactus igitur fit—483. He goes very far, yet muſt ſtop ſhort.

Non ergo videtur diverſitas, haec idaearum pendere tantum a varietate illâ, quâ ultima pars nervi conſtruitur, ſed a multis aliis praeterea non quidem cauſis, ſed ex Inſtituto Conditoris adorandi conditionibus. 571.
*

After having ſaid many things of the Ear, from the beſt Authors, and his own Obſervations, he adds; ‘"Supra omnem verò admirabilitatem conſtructa appariet Cochleae ſpiralis fabrica, &c." 562.’

He had ſaid of the Noſe: "Sunt praeterea in his narium cavis recondita, & artificioſe variis locis diſpoſita, quatuor oſſicula ſpongioſa—Sunt haec quatuor oſſicula mire fabricata ex tenuiſſimis oſſeis lamellis, papyro tenuioribus—" 493.’

‘"Nares inveſtiuntur membranâ craſſâ, molli, myriadibus vaſculorum arterioſorum ornatâ—Membrana haec ſollicite ſe inſinuat—Unde mirabili inſtituto—" 494.’

*
—But know that in the Soul
Are many leſſer Faculties that ſerve
Reaſon as chief; among theſe, Fancy next
Her office holds, of all external things,
Which the five watchful Senſes repreſent,
She forms Imaginations, Airy Shapes,
Which Reaſon joining or disjoining frames
All what we affirm, or what deny, and call
Our Knowledge or Opinion; then retires
Into her private Cell: when Nature reſts,
Oft in her abſence, Mimick Fancy wakes
To imitate her; but, misjoining Shapes,
Wild Work produces oft, and moſt in Dreams,
Ill matching Words and Deeds long paſt and late.
Par. Loſt. B. V.
*
Leviath. Ch. 6.
*
Diſpenſary.
Rochefoucault.
*
For he that ſwears againſt his Will,
Is of his own Opinion ſtill.
*
Paradiſe loſt, Book III. L. 5.
*
[...]
*
[...] Tit. 1. 12.
*
Quam pene lapſu pes mihi lubrico
Greſſum fefellit, dum pede metior
Immenſ [...] parvo, dum trutinâ meâ
Expendo ſtultus, Judicium Dei.
* * *
Cauſas latentes dum ſequor, anxius,
Et pertinacis viribus Ingeni
Pugno, profundum ſe Chaos ingerit,
Et nocte mentis lumen ad obruit.
*
Theory of the Earth.
*
[...]
*
This was meant of things propoſed to our Belief by others. And when a Man reflects of his own head upon Paſſages of Sacred Writ, if the Meaning is not ſo obvious, Reaſon is allowed to examine whether ſuch Paſſages are to be taken in a literal ſenſe or a figurative: and if he find it muſt be the figurative ſenſe, then he is to conſider what may be couched under the Figure it ſelf.
*
Diſſertatio de Loquela.
*
Apprehenſio, Judicium, Diſcurſus.
*
The Body is touch'd, the Soul feels.
*
[...], Mundus.
Theory of the Earth.
Mr. Whiſton.
*
Rom. viii.
*
De Civitate Dei.
*
Alieni appetens, ſui profuſus.
*
Ubi Divitiae clarae habentur, ibi omnia bona vitia ſunt; Fides, Probitas, Pudor, &c. Orat. 11. de Rep. Ordinanda.
*
Stultorum incurata pudor malus ulcera celat,

Again,

—falſus Honor juvat, quem?
Hor.

And Plautus tells us, Plerique homines quos cum nihil refert, pudet &c.

*
I. 96.
Viſion of Hell.
*

In Libro 3. de Republica. Tullius Hominem dicit non ut a, matre ſed a noverca natura editum in vitam, corpore & nudo & fragili & infirmo; animo autem anxio ad moleſtias, humili ad timores, molli ad labores, prono ad libidines: in quo tamen ineſſet, tanquam obrutus, quidam divinus ignis ingenii atque mentis.—

Rem vidit, cauſam neſcivit: latebat enim eum cur eſſet gravt jugum ſuper filios Adam. Lib. 4. contra Jul. Pelag.

*
Confeſſ. Lib. 1. cap. 1.
‘"We muſt not by any means admit or imagine that all Nature, and this great Univerſe, was made only for the ſake of Man, the meaneſt of all intelligent Creatures that we know of.—Surely if we made the leaſt Reflection upon our ſelves with impartiality, we ſhould be aſhamed of ſuch an arrogant Thought.—Man that comes into the World at the pleaſure of another, and goes out by a hundred Accidents.—A knock on the head makes him a Fool, ſtupid as the Beaſts of the Field; and a little exceſs of Paſſion or Melancholy makes him worſe, mad and frantick. In his beſt Senſes he is ſhallow, and of little Underſtanding; and in nothing more blind and ignorant than in things ſacred and divine." Theor. 1. B. C. xi.
*
Mr. Collier's Tranſlation.
*
Art. III. and elſewhere.
*

This Comedy deſerves not to be forgot. Monſ. Bayle was accuſed before the Divines of Rotterdam for advancing unfound Doctrine in his Penſees diverſes. In his Continuation of thoſe Thoughts he anſwers Monſ. Jurieu's Accuſations, and I believe quotes him fairly. Jurieu's words are, ‘"He pretends that the Virtues of Chriſtians do not proceed from a Principle of Religion, but only from Fear, the Love of worldly Honour, and other worldly Principles. A ſcandalous Propoſition! which deſtroys all Virtues, as if there were no true Chriſtians! See the Cauſes he gives of the Chaſtity of Women. He treats that matter after an impure and ſcandalous manner, pretending that Women are not chaſte thro' Virtue and Religion."’

Bayle anſwers, ‘"Of all that my Accuſer has done, this is what confirms me the moſt that he is like the unjuſt Judge who feared neither God nor Men: for if he had had any reſpect for the Publick, and any concern for Reputation, would he have dared to ſuppreſs the Exceptions I always made? Did not I poſitively except the truly Faithful and the true Religion? I renew my Declaration in theſe terms, I have declared already, and declare once more, that I except from the general Rule a good Number of Perſons who are guided by the true Spirit of the Chriſtian Religion, and whom God preſerves from the Contagion almoſt univerſal."’

I know not if the poor Clergyman made any Reply: but it was difficult to argue with one who had ſuch a Talent, and not to come off with loſs. Bayle goes on in his grave Ridicule, appealing to his Readers if he treats the Article of Womens Chaſtity after an impure and ſcandalous manner. ‘"Are not they comprehended in that good Number of Perſons guided by true Chriſtianity? . . . . Thus what I have ſaid does not concern the predeſtinate and regencrate Women; it only concerns the Women comprehended in the abſolute Decree of Reprobation, who, according to the Theology of the Synod of Dort, are incapable of doing any thing for the Love of God, and live and die in the ſlavery of Sin. . . . . All that my Adverſary can allow them, unleſs he will contradict the Deciſions of that Synod, is that the ſervile Fear of Hell may reſtrain them. . . . . . . But is it not a greater Glory to the Sex, to aſcribe their Chaſtity either to the Complexion, or the Ideas of Honour and Reputation, rather than the Fear of Puniſhment? Nor ought my Accuſer to forget the ſevere and rude manner of his Preaching ſeveral times upon that Subject, and the Indignation a number of Women conceiv'd at him."’

From the French Edition, p. 571.

This is a Specimen of a fly Writer, frequently imitated with leſs dexterity.

*
Satire on Man.
*
Book III.
*
Book I. Chap. 3. §. 3.
*
1 Cor. xi. 14-16.
*
Juv. Sat. X. Perſ. Sat. II.
Arrian. Lib. I. Ch. 16.
*
XXXI.
Mr. Kennet has taken a good deal of liberty generally in his Tranſlation: the French is, Mais les Eſprits faux ne ſont jamais ni fins ni geometres.
*
Ecclus. xl.
*
How wiſely has it been ordain'd, to diſtinguiſh Men rather by the exterior ſhew, than by the interior Endowments! Here's another Perſon and I diſputing the way. Who ſhall have the preference in this caſe? Why, the better Man of the two. But I am as good a Man as he: ſo that if no Expedient be found, he muſt beat me, or I muſt beat him. Well; but all this while, he has four Footmen at his back, and I have but one. This is a viſible advantage: We need only tell Noſes to diſcover it. 'Tis my part therefore to yield; and I am a Blockhead if I conteſt the point. See here an eaſy Method of Peace, the great Safeguard and ſupreme Happineſs of this World. XXIX.
*
Le Droit publique, Liv. I. Tit. IX. Sect. 3.
Place above-cited, X.
*
Vulgus autem tam Chlamydatos, quam Coronam voco: non enim Colorem veſtium, quibus praetexta Corpora ſunt, adſpicio, &c. De Vitabeata.
*
Characteriſticks III. 236. There is a great Fertility of Inſinuations in that whole Chapter.
*
V. 3, 4.
*
[...]
*
Characteriſticks III. 236.
Longinus not only inſtances Moſes, but in a MS. in the Vatican he makes mention of Paul of Tarſus, as an Author of great Excellency.
*
—Valeat res ludicra ſi me
Palma negata, macrûm, donata reducit opimum.
Human Faculties, Art. V. towards the End.
*
Oportere enim perfectionem declarat Officii quo & ſemper utendum eſt, & omnibus. Decere, quaſi aptum eſſe conſentaneumque tempori & perſonae: quod cum in factis ſaepiſſime, tum in dictis valet, in vultu denique & geſtu, & inceſſu, contraque autem dedecere. De Oratore.
*
Jam. ii. 1.
1 Pet. ii. 17.
*
Rochefoucault.
*
Seneca.
*
St. James.
*
[...] 2 Tim. iii. 2.
Lib. x. cap. 39.
*
See the Additions, No II.
*
Additions, No I.
*
Iſaiah lvii. 20.
*
Sect. XXX.
*
No III.
*
Quidve ad Amicitias, Uſus, Rectumne, trabat nos.
After this Eſſay was written, (and 'tis now ſome Years) I had the ſatisfaction to find the ſame Paſſage cited by the Biſhop of Cambray, and alſo ſome of Cl [...]'s Expreſſions to ſupport the Doctrine of diſintereſſed Love. He makes uſe of more Teſtimonies from the Heathens: for Truth is always Truth. The Reader may ſee the [...] Volume of his ſpiritual Works: Diſcourſe XLI.
Butler.
No III.
*
Nemo gratuito malus eſt.
*
Sect. XXIX.
Sect. IX.
*
Lib. II Cap. XXII.
*
Liberis conſultum volumus, etiamſi poſthumi futuri ſunt, propter ipſos. De ſinibus.
*
Dilexi tum te, non tantum ut Vulgus Amicam,
Sed Pater ut Gnatos diligit & Generos.
Ad Lesbiam.
*
No. XII.
*
Doctrina ſed Vim promovet inſitam, &c.
Leviath. Chap. XI.
*
Rom. ii.
*
Mr. Locke gives that Definition in his Eſſay on Human Underſtanding: and arguing againſt innate Principles, he ſays, ‘"If Conſcience be a Proof of innate Principles, Contraries may be innate Principles; ſince ſome Men with the ſame Bent of Conſcience proſecute what others avoid."’ But this Argument wou'd ſeem to ſtrike moſt againſt Virtue, as it ſeems to take away the Difference of Right and Wrong, or to render every thing ſo arbitrary and uncertain, that an Appeal could not be made to the common Senſe of Mankind in no Caſe whatſoever. But Mr. Locke cannot be ſuſpected to have had ſo bad an Intention: the Regard he expreſs'd for the Chriſtian Religion, as well as moral Virtue, is ſufficient to clear him from ſuch an Imputation. 'Tis remarkable too, that ſome profeſt Deiſts not only ſet up for the moral Senſe, but alſo acknowledge the innate Principles, which they call (after Epictetus) Anticipations, or previous Notices of the Mind.
*
Contemplat. Part III. from pag. 154 to 198.
*
No VI.
*
Nunquam aliud Natura, aliud Sapientia aixit. Juv. N V.
*
Religion of Nature.
*
No. V.
*
Sect. iii, &c.
Rom. viii.
*
Wiſd. i. 15.
Pſal. xix.
*
No. IV.
*
Free-Thinker. No. ccxvi.
*
—feciſti nos ad te, & inquietum eſt Cor noſtrum donec requieſcat in te. Confeſſ. Lib. I. Cap. 1.
No. VII.
*
Nec furtum feci, nec fugi, ſi mihi dicat
Servus; habes pretium, loris non ureris aio.
Non hominem occidi: non paſces in cruce corvos.
Sum bonus & frugi: renuit negat atque Sabellus.
Cautus enim metuit foveam lupus, accipiterque
Suſpectos laqueos, & opertum milvius humum.
Oderunt peccare boni virtutis amore.
Juſtitia nihil expetit pretii, nihil praemii: per ſe igitur expetitur. De Legibus.
*
Modern Projectors, I know, would willingly rid their hands of theſe natural Materials, and would fain build after a more uniform way. They would new frame the human Heart; and have a mighty fancy to reduce all its Motions, Ballances, and Weights, to that one Principle and Foundation of a cool and deliberate Selfiſhneſs. Men, it ſeems, are unwilling to think they can be ſo outwitted, and impos'd on by Nature, as to be made to ſerve her Purpoſes, rather than their own. They are aſham'd to be drawn thus out of themſelves, and forc'd from what they eſteem their true Intereſt.
*
Prov. xvi. 4.
Revel. iv.
*
1 John iv.
1 Cor. xiii.
*
No. VIII,
*
The Reader may ſee the Preface to a little Collection of Thoughts ſometimes join'd with the Duke of Rochefoucault's, and the three firſt Maxims themſelves, which ſerve pretty well for ſettling the Ideas and Limits of Self-Love and Virtue.
*
See No. IX.
*
Here is a piece of barbarous-like Philoſophy very well apply'd.
*
See No. X.
*
Quod ſi Virtus ad beatam vitam nos ducit, nihil omnino eſſe Virtutem affirmaverim niſi ſummum amorem Dei. Namque illud quod quadripartita dicitur Virtus, ex ipſius amoris vario quodam affectu, quantum intelligo, dicitur. Itaque illas qua [...] virtures, quarum utinam ita ſit in mentibus vis, ut nomina in ore ſunt omnium, ſic etiam definire non dubitem: ut Temperantiam dicamus eſſe Amorem, Deo ſeſe integrum incorruptumque ſervantem: Fortitudinem Amorem omnia propter Deum facilc perferentem: Juſtitiom Amorem Dco tantum ſervientem, & ab hoc bene imperantem caeteris quae homini ſubjecta ſunt: Prudentiam amorem bene diſcernentem ca quibus adjuvetur in Deum ab iis quibus impediri poteſt. De moribus Eccl. Cath. L. 1. Cap. 15.
*
By Recreation Mr. Paſcal means not only Men's Diverſions (and ſome harmleſs ones cannot be condemn'd) but the ſerious Buſineſs of their Lives, as will appear by the Strain of the whole Section. And that ſerious Buſineſs St. Auguſtin puts upon a level with the Plays of Children. Majorum Nugae Negotia vocantur.
*
The ſame Thought is very well expreſs'd in another way by a later Author. . . . . . .How fading and inſipid do all Objects accoſt us, that are not convey'd in the Vehicle of Deluſion! How ſhrunk is every thing, as it appears in the Glaſs of Nature! ſo that if it were not for the aſſiſtance of artificial Mediums, falſe Lights, refracted Angles, Varniſh and Tinſel; there would be a mighty level in the Felicity and Enjoyment of mortal Men. Tale of a Tub.
*
[...]
[...]
*

Qui quum, &c. Whereas he had all kind of Bleſſedneſs in his hand or power, yet ſuffered willingly the Ignominy of the Croſs.

This Note is much ſupported by a remarkable Text, Phil. ii. 5 . . . . . 8.

*
There is another Reaſon why good Men are afflicted with temporal Evils, as in the Caſe of Job, that the Mind may be put to a Tryal, and diſcover the Force of its own Piety, or how much it loves God for nothing.
*

Give me, O Lord, a lively Faith, a firm Hope, and a lively Charity; a Love of Thee incomparably above the Love of myſelf, that I may love nothing to thy Diſpleaſure, but every thing in order to thy Satisfaction.

Give me, O Lord, a Longing to be with Thee, not for avoiding the Calamities of this wretched World, nor ſo much for eſcaping the Pains of Purgatory, or thoſe of Hell, nor for attaining the Joys of Heaven with reſpect to my own Advantage, as purely for the Love of Thee.

Distributed by the University of Oxford under a Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 Unported License

Zitationsvorschlag für dieses Objekt
TextGrid Repository (2020). TEI. 4908 Essays moral and philosophical on several subjects viz A view of the human faculties An essay on self love. University of Oxford Text Archive. . https://hdl.handle.net/21.T11991/0000-001A-5C6B-6