PROSA I.

Whilst in Silence I recounted these things, and with Styli Officio. my Pen did delineate my Griefs and Com­plaints, ^(a) a Woman of a most reverend Countenance seem'd to stand over my Head, with sparkling Eyes, which were of an extra­ordinary Force and Quickness; her Colour was lively, and her Strength seem'd to be un­exhausted, although she was so old, that she could by no means be thought one of our time. It was difficult to judg of her Stature; for sometimes she appear'd to be of the com­mon Height of Men, then she would seem to touch the Clouds with her Head; which a­gain, when she rais'd higher, she pierc'd the very Heavens with it, and was not to be fol­lowed by the Eyes of those who look'd after [Page 4] her. Her Garments were most artificially made of the finest Threads and most durable Matter; which (as she her self afterwards told me) she had woven with her own Hands: They also were overshadowed with such a Mist and Duskishness as usually covers old Ima­ges, arising from Antiquity and the Neglect of Time. On the extreme Part of these Vest­ments below, the Greek Letter [Π] ^(b) was to be read; and upon the highest Border the Let­ter [Θ] ^(c) was interwoven; and betwixt them certain Steps were wrought in the form of a Ladder, by which there was an Ascent from the lowest to the highest Letter. But this Gar­ment was defac'd and torn by the Hands of se­veral ^(d) violent Persons, who had taken away what Parts of it they could. In her right Hand she carried Books, and in her left she sway'd a [Page 5] Scepter. So soon as she saw the Patronesses of Poetry standing by my Bed, and dictating to me Words, in which I cloath'd my Griefs; with a concern'd Countenance and inflamed Eyes, she immediately broke out into these Expressi­ons: What unwise Person hath suffer'd these scenique Strumpets to have Access to this sick Man; who are so far from encountring his Distemper with specifique and natural Reme­dies, that they only nourish and increase it by those sweet Poisons which they infuse? These are they who, with the fruitless Thorns of the Passions, choak and destroy the hopeful Crops of productive Reason, and who only accustom the Minds of Men to bear and endure a Dis­ease, but never free them from it. If (conti­nued she, directing her self to the Muses) your Caresses had debauch'd and drawn aside, according to your Custom, any profane or un­knowing Person, you should not have been blamed by me; nor could my Labours, by such an Attempt, have been eluded: but you have made an unhappy Proselyte of him whom I have sed with my Breasts, and brought up in ^(e) Ele­atique [Page 6] and ^(f) Academique Studies. Be gone, therefore, ye Sirens, whose Pleasures kill, whose Embraces destroy, and leave this un­happy Apostate to the Care and Skill of Me and my Muses. This charming Company being thus rebuk'd, with dejected and blushing Countenances left the Room. But I, whose Eyes were yet darkned with Tears, not know­ing who this Imperious Woman should be, was much astonished; and fixing mine Eyes upon the Earth, I began silently to expect what she would further do. She then ap­proaching to me, sat down on the lower part of my Bed, and seeing my Face overspread with Grief, and mine Eyes in that de­jected Posture, complain'd of the unsettled State of my Mind, in these Verses.

PROSA II.

But now, said she, Medicines are more re­quisite than Complaints. Then looking upon me stedfastly, and with much Attention; Art thou, continued she, that Person, who lately being nourished with my Milk, and brought up with my Food, didst arrive at the Perfecti­on of a vigorous and manly Soul? Certainly I gave thee those Arms which would, if thou thy self hadst not thrown them away, have defend­ed thee firmly against every Assault. Dost thou know me? From whence proceeds this un­usual Silence? From Shame or Stupidity? I [Page 9] had rather it were from the former; but I am afraid thou art oppress'd with the latter. But when she saw me not only silent, but almost speechless and dumb, she reach'd her Hand ea­sily towards my Breast; And, then said she, there is no Danger, he labours under a Lethar­gy, which is the common Distemper of those who are troubled in mind. He hath forgot himself a little, but he would soon be better if he could recover the Remembrance of me; which, that he may do, I will wipe his Eyes, darkned a little with the Clouds of Mortality: and, as she said this, she dry'd the Tears from them with a part of her Garment, which she had contracted into a fold.

PROSA III.

Thus the Clouds of Sadness being dispers'd, I began to breathe more freely; and set my self to recollect the Features of her who had done so much towards my Cure. There­fore when I had earnestly fix'd mine Eyes up­on her, I soon knew her to be my tender Nurse [Philosophy] in whose School I had been instructed, and at whose Feet, from my Youth, I had been brought up. And why, said I, thou Source and Patroness of all Ver­tue, dost thou descend from above into these solitary Regions of my Banishment? Shall I, returned she, O my loved Pupil! desert thee, and refuse to bear a part of that Burden under which I know thou now labourest, for my sake? 'Tis contrary to the Rules of Philosophy, to leave the Innocent unaccompanied in his Pilgrimage. Shall I fear an Accusation, and be astonish'd, as if some new thing had happen'd? Is this the first time, dost thou believe, that Philosophy hath been assaulted by impious and cruel Men? Have not I, amongst the Anci­ents, and even before the time of thy great [Page 11] Master, and my endear'd Son ^(h) Plato, often contended with Folly, and supported my self against her rash Attacks? And even, whilst he liv'd, did not his Master ⁽ⁱ⁾ Socrates triumph over Death, to which he was unjustly ad­judg'd, I standing by him and assisting him? Of whose ^(k) Inheritance, when the Rout of the Epicureans and Stoicks, and several of the other Sects, snatch'd a part, as every one pleased; and I still opposing my self to them, and striving against them; they, with one con­sent, [Page 12] fell upon me, as if I had been a part of their Prey, and tore this Garment, which I had woven with my own Hands: then every one going away with that Rag which he had snatch'd, vainly believ'd that he had possess'd himself of Philosophy, and her whole Treasure. Some of whom, because some Footsteps and light Traces of me did appear amongst them, the Folly of Men believing them to be my Fa­miliars, by the Error of the Multitude, were destroy'd. But if thou art not so well ac­quainted with the Banishment of ^(l) Anaxago­ras, the Poison of ^(m) Socrates, and the Tor­ments of ⁽ⁿ⁾ Zeno, because they were not of thy Country; and of the length of Time which hath intervened since their Sufferings, [Page 13] yet the ^(o) Canii, the ^(p) Senecae, and the ^(q) Sorani, all of famous Memory, and who flourished but few Ages since, may have reach'd thy Knowledg: the only Cause of whose fatal and violent Ends was, that they were educated under my Discipline, and had imbib'd my Precepts, and so became most un­like to those impious Men who wrought their Destruction. Therefore wonder not if I be beaten with Storms whilst I sail in the Sea of this World, since I propose no greater thing to my self than to displease ill Men. And though the Numbers of them be great, yet 'tis to be [Page 14] contemn'd, since it hath no certain Guide, but is actuated by the unsteady Counsels of Phrene­tick Error. If, perhaps, they should form a Body against me, and being stronger, assail me, I the Leader do straightways retreat with my Party into a Fortress, whilst they in the mean time are imploy'd in Rapine and Spoil, and in robbing us of those trivial things which are use­less to them, and not very necessary for us: whilst we, in the mean time, (secure in our Fastness from the Fear of their Assaults, which Folly and Ignorance can never win) laugh at them, who, with so much Labour and Hazard, pursue the meanest and most despicable Trifles.

PROSA IV.

Dost thou perceive these things, said she, and do they sink into thy Mind? Esne [...]? Art thou altogether unqualifi­ed and unfit to receive these Precepts? Why dost thou weep? Why do thy Tears over­flow? [...]. Speak, conceal not thy Thoughts. And if thou dost expect Help from the Physician, truly discover thy Distemper. Then I, in some measure recovering my self, spoke thus to her: Need my Sorrows then be repeated; and do not the Severities acted by Fortune a­gainst me, appear enough of themselves, with­out these Admonitions? Doth not the very Face and Horror of ^(r) this Place move thee? Is this the Library which thou didst choose for thy particular Apartment in my House? In [Page 16] which, so often sitting with me, thou didst skilfully read upon all Divine and Humane Learning? Was this my Habit? Was this my Look, when with thee I penetrated into the Secrets of Nature? when thou Cum mihi siderum vias radio describeres. traced'st out to me the several Motions of the Stars? when thou didst shew me how to form my Life and Manners by Divine Rule and Or­der? And are these at last the Rewards of my Obedience to thee? Certainly thou didst deli­ver this Sentence as an Eternal Sanction by the Mouth of ^(s) Plato, viz. That those Common­wealths are most happy, who are governed by Phi­losophers, or by those who study to be so. By the same Person also thou didst advise wise and dis­creet Men to take upon them the Government of their Country, lest they refusing it, impi­ous and unworthy Subjects should exert them­selves, and oppress the good and honest Citi­zens. Therefore I following this great Au­thority, have desir'd to reduce to practice, in the Management of publick Business, what I [Page 17] learnt from thee in our grateful Retirement. And thou and that God who infuseth thee into the Minds of wise Men, may witness for me, that I had no other end in aspiring to the Ma­gistracy, than that one, of doing good to all, and protecting the Vertuous and Just. Hence was I look'd upon by evil Men as their com­mon Enemy. Hence sprung Dissention and Discord with them; but still the Clearness of my Conscience made me despise the Anger of the most powerful, when I acted in the De­fence of Justice and Right. How oft have I oppos'd ^(t) Conigast, who taking Advantage of their Inabilities, would have oppress'd and ground the Faces of the Poor? How oft have I withstood Triguilla.] Triguilla was Steward of the Royal Houshold, who was equal to Conigast in Wickedness, but superiour to him in Power. Triguilla, the Steward of the King's Houshold, and hinder'd him from bring­ing to effect the many Injuries and Wrongs which he had hopefully projected and begun? [Page 18] How oft have I protected, with the Peril of my Authority, those unhappy People, whom the lawless Avarice of the ^(w) Barbarians did vex with many Calumnies? No Man ever drew me aside from the Paths of Right to those of In­justice: I griev'd no less than the poor Sufferers, when I saw the Fortunes of Provincial Subjects torn by the Rapine of private Officers, and them oppress'd with publick Taxes. When, in the Time of a severe Famine, the whole Province of ^(x) Campania had like to have been ruin'd by an Imposition upon the People, which pass'd under the Name of a ^(y) Coemption, I, the [Page 19] King being present at the De­bate, contested with his Certamen adver­sum praefectum Prae­torii suscepi. Cap­tain of the Guards, on the Be­half of the Publick: And at last I prevailed, To that that heavy Impost was not exacted. I forced ^(z) Paulinus, a Consular Man, out of the very Jaws of those Palatini canes. greedy Officers of the Palace, whose Ambition and Hope had already devour'd him and his Estate. When ^(a) Albi­nus, who had been Consul also, was to have been cut off by a false Accusation, I placed my self betwixt him and ^(b) Cyprian his Accuser, and oppos'd my self to the Violence of his ut­most Hate and Malice. Don't you think that I have got my self Enemies more than enough? I ought certainly, amongst the rest of Mankind, to be more assur'd and safe, who for the Love of Justice, have forfeited all my Hopes at the Court, and gain'd nothing but the Envy and Hate of those who are power­ful there. But, behold upon the Accusation of [Page 20] what Men I now suffer! ^(c) Basilius is one of them, who being lately, for his Offences, dis­miss'd from the King's Service, and oppress'd with Debt, is forc'd, by his Necessities, to be­come my Accuser. The Credit of the other two, ^(d) Opilio and ^(e) Gaudentius, is so infa­mous, [Page 21] that lately, for their many Crimes and Cheats, they were condemned to Banishment by the ^(f) King: and being unwilling to obey the Sentence, presently took ^(g) Sanctuary; of which when he had notice, he gave Com­mand, that if they did not leave the City of ^(h) Ravenna by such a Day, they should, with all Disgrace, be driven out of it, with Marks branded on their Foreheads. Now judg if there can be any Addition to this my severe Usage; for upon that very Day on which this Execution was order'd to be done upon them, the Accusation was receiv'd against me, from the Mouths of these villanous In­formers. What is then to be done? Have my [Page 22] many irksome Labours and Enquiries after Wis­dom deserv'd this? or because my Condemna­tion was before determined, shall it qualify these Men to be my Accusers? Is not Fortune ashamed; if not of the Accusation of injur'd Innocence, at least of the Baseness and Infamy of its Accusers? But perhaps you may ask, what Crime is objected to me? I am accused for designing to preserve the Senate. Would you know the Manner and Circumstances of my Treason? Why, 'tis urg'd, that I hinder'd an Informer from carrying Proofs to the King, which should have declared the whole Senate to have been guilty of Treason? And now, O my Mistress! what think you? shall I deny the Crime that I may not be a Reproach to thee? No, it was always my Desire to preserve that August Body in its Splendor, and in its just Rights, and it shall be so to the last Moment of my Life. Shall I confess it? Then the pre­tended Endeavour of putting a stop to the Ac­cusers will cease. Shall I own it a Crime to wish the Safety of that Assembly? Indeed its unjust Decrees against me would make it look to be so. But Folly, which always flatters it self, cannot change the Merit of things: Nor do I think it lawful, according to the Judgment of Socrates, either to hide the Truth, or own a Falsity. But however that Matter may be, I leave it to be weighed by you, and the Judg­ment [Page 23] of the Wise, having both by my Tongue and Pen declared the whole Truth and Series of my Misfortune, and transmitted it to indiffe­rent and unprejudiced Posterity. To what pur­pose should I speak of those forged Letters, in which I am accused, to hope for the Restaura­tion of the Roman Liberty? I could easily e­nough have detected the Falseness of that Con­trivance, even by the Confessions of my Accu­sers, (which is of greatest Weight in all such Affairs) if I might have been allowed to have made use of them. But what Liberty now can we ever hope to have? Would to Heaven we might expect any! then I had answer'd them in the Words of Canius; who, when he was ac­cused by C. Caesar, Son to Germanicus, of being privy to a Conspiracy against his Life, told him, Si ego, inquit, scîssem, tu nescîsses. If I had known of such a Design, thou hadst never known it. In which thing, Sorrow and my Misfortunes have not so dulled my Senses, that I should complain of the Contri­vances of wicked Men against the Vertuous. But I wonder that according to their Hopes they should have effected them; for the Will to do Ill proceeds from the Defects of humane Nature: But it is prodigious, that every Con­trivance of ill Men should prevail against the Innocent, even when the Eye of Providence beholds it. Whence it was that one of thy [Page 24] Disciples properly enough asked, If there be a God, whence then proceeds Evil? If there be none, whence Good? Be it so, that it is natu­ral and fit enough that ill Men, who thirst after the Blood of the Good, and of the whole Se­nate, should also promote my Destruction, who have always defended botn against their At­tempts. But have I deserv'd this Return from the Hands of the Senate? &c. Thou mayst remember, I imagine, because always when I did or said any thing, thou wert present, and didst direct me. Thou mayst remember, I say, when at ⁽ⁱ⁾ Verona, the King, greedy and desirous of our common Ruine, endeavour'd to have thrown that Treason, for which Albinus was accused, on the whole Body of the Senate; how I then, contemning any Hazard which I might run, did vindicate and defend that Or­der. Thou knowst this to be Truth, and that I never was accustom'd to value or praise my self or my Actions: for whosoever seeks a Name, by boasting of what he hath done, will lessen, in a great measure, the Pleasures of a self-approving Conscience. But now see the Event and Success of my Innocence, for instead of receiving the Reward of true and steddy [Page 25] Vertue, I undergo the Punishment of Villany and Impiety! What Judges were there ever, who even upon the manifest Proofs of a Crime, did so unanimously agree in Cruelty, that neither the Considerations of humane Nature, which ne­cessarily errs, nor of the Change of Fortune, which is so uncertain to all, should encline some of them to Pity and Compassion? If I had been accus'd of designing to burn the Tem­ples, or massacre the Priests, and so destroy all good Men, yet I should have been allowed to have been present, and upon my Confession or Conviction by the Witnesses, should have received my Sentence. But now, for my Aff­fections and Services to the Senate, I am un­heard, undefended, at the Distance of ^(k) 500 Miles condemn'd to Death, and ^(l) Pro­scription. O my Judges! may none of you be ever convicted of the like Crime; the False­ness of which even mine Accusers themselves know, and that they are forced to throw ano­ther pretended Offence into the Scale; which [Page 26] is, that out of my Ambition and Desire of Dig­nity I have polluted my Conscienee with the horrid Sin of ^(m) Sacrilege. But certainly thou, my Guide and Directress, who art planted and rooted in my Soul, hast so far driven out of my Heart the Desire of mortal and fading things, that thou dost know (I being ever under thy Inspection) there could be no Place there for that Impiety; for thou didst daily instil into my Ears and Mind that golden Saying of Py­thagoras, [...]. Follow God. Nor was it convenient for me to seek Assistance from soul and unlawful Arts, whom already thou hadst form'd into the Excellence and Likeness of God. Those [Page 27] of my Innocens pene­tral domus. Family, my Friends also with whom I conversed, and Symmachus, that vertuous and reverend Personage, to whom the Secrets of my Conversation could not be hidden, do all, with one Voice, clear me, even from the Suspition of that Crime. But, O Misfortune! even thou art the greatest Cause of that Credit which is given to my Accusers; for 'tis be­lieved that I have used unlawful Arts, because I have been bred up under thy Discipline, and imbibed thy Precepts. So that it is not enough that that Reverence which is due to thee, should not reflect, with Advantage, upon me thy Dis­ciple, if thy self also do not suffer upon my ac­count. But this also is an heavy Accession to my Misfortunes, that the Opinions of most People are not as they ought to be, grounded upon a due Consideration and the Merit of Things, but upon the Events of Fortune; and that that only should be judged to be underta­ken with prudent Fore-sight, which is crown'd with an unhappy Success. Hence it is that those who are unfortunate do lose, before any thing, the good Opinion of the World. It troubles me now to remember what are the various Ru­mours, the different and inconsistent Opinions of the People concerning me; some condem­ning, and some defending me and my Cause: Yet this I will say, that nothing can add more [Page 28] to the Afflictions of the Unhappy, who are un­justly persecuted, than when Men think they justly deserve the Miseries which they endure. And now I am, at last, robbed of my Estate, spoil­ed of mine Honours, injured in my Reputation; and instead of those Rewards which I might justly have expected from my Country, I have been condemn'd to the greatest Punishment. But now behold a more afflicting Scene! Me­thinks I see the Treacherous, the Unfaithful, the Injurious, and other most Infamous Persons, all without Cause mine Enemies, over-flowing with Joy and Delight at my Misfortunes, and contriving new Accusations against me: The Good are affrighted with the Horror of what I suffer, and ill Men are encouraged, by the Im­punity of others, to design the greatest Wick­ednesses, and by Rewards to act them; whilst the Innocent are not only depriv'd of their Secu­rity, but also of the natural Privilege of de­fending themselves; therefore I may reasona­bly thus cry out:

PROSA V.

Whilst my continued Griefs forc'd me to breath out these Complaints; she, with a plea­sant Look, and no way mov'd with my Ex­pression of them, bespake me thus: When I first saw thee, sad and weeping, I knew thee to be miserable and in Banishment; yet at what distance from thy home I did not know, till I gather'd it by thine own Discourse: But in­deed thou art not driven out of thy Country, but hast wandered thus far from it; yet if thou hadst rather be thought to have been violently remov'd, thou hast done thy self this Injury, for it was never in the Power of any other Per­son to have done it: For if thou dost call to mind of what Country thou art, a Country not govern'd by the Fury and Extasies of a giddy and passionate Multitude, as that of the Athe­nians was heretofore; but [...]; Iliad. θ. where there is only one Lord, one King, the Almighty Governour of the Universe, who wishes the Encrease and numerous Prosperity, and procures the Welfare of all his Subjects and Citizens, and loves not to lessen their number, by sending them into Banishment: to obey whose Laws, and to be govern'd by them, is the noblest Liberty and greatest Happiness. [Page 33] Know'st thou not that most antient Law of thy ^(p) Commonwealth, which does decree, that it shall not be lawful to banish any Man from it, who had rather fix his Adobe there than in any other Place? For whoever hath once at­tained to the Happiness of being settled within the Bounds of that Territory, can never be pre­sum'd to deserve the Punishment of Exile; but whoever once leaves off to desire to be an Inha­bitant there, at the same time leaves off to de­serve to be so. Therefore the Countenance of this Place, however dismal, does not move me so much as thine own Looks. I do not here so much look for thy ^(q) Library, the Walls of which were so well inlaid with Ivory, and a­dorn'd with Glasses, as that noble Cabinet and curious Repository of thy Mind and Thoughts. [Page 34] But I did depose that there, which makes even thy Books valuable, these choice and observa­ble Sentences, which are the Quintessence of my voluminous Writings. Thou hast indeed spoken much Truth upon the Subject of thy great Merits from the Publick: but considering what, and how many they have been, all that thou hast said of them is but little. The Particulars which thou hast recounted of thy Integrity, and the Falseness of thine Accusation, are well known to all Men: And thou hast done well in being short in the Account of the Frauds and Villanies of thine Accusers, because it will sound better out of the Mouth of the People, who know all this. Thou hast also severely in­veighed against the unjust Decree of the Senate. Thou hast been much concern'd for the Injury done to me, and thou hast bewail'd the Loss of the good Esteem which Men had of thee. Thy last Complaint was against Fortune, and that Rewards and Punishments were not equally distributed, according to the Merits of Men: And in the end, thy distemper'd Muse wishes that the same Peace which makes the Felicity of the calm Regions above, might also govern and reside upon Earth. But because thy Affections are yet tumultuous and disorder'd, and because the mutinous Passions of Grief, Anger and Sad­ness do variously and successively draw and di­stract thee: Thy Mind, I say, being in such a [Page 35] State, strong and vigorous Medicines are not proper for thee; therefore, for the present, we will use more mild ones: so that those Hu­mours, which by frequent Disturbances flowed in upon thee, being now gather'd to a Head, and come to a Consistence, may, by gentle Ap­plications, be mollified, and be fitter to bear the more powerful Workings of stronger Re­medies, which in time may dissipate them.

PROSA VI.

First then wilt thou suffer me to try the Estate, and feel the Pulse of thy Mind, by a few Questions; that so I may better understand thy Malady, and prescribe the Methods of thy Cure?

Ask me what thou pleasest, and I will answer thee.

Thinkest thou that this World is manag'd by blind Chance and Fortune? or dost thou believe that Reason hath any share in the Government of it?

I do by no means believe or imagine, that things, so certain in their Methods, and so regular in their Motions, should be mov'd and informed by so unsteady a Cause: but I know that God, the Master-workman, doth preside over his Work; nor shall any Time or Accident ever move me from the Truth of this Opinion.

So 'tis indeed; and of this, a little before, thy Muse did sing when thou didst also deplore the Misfortune of [Page 37] Man, whom alone thou didst believe, not to be under the Care of Providence; though, that every other thing was govern'd by Reason, thou didst not doubt. But it is miraculous to me, that thou, who hast so just Notions of all things, shouldst be in so ill a State of Health; I will therefore search further, for I believe thou yet labourest under some notable Defect: But tell, me, because thou dost not at all doubt but that the World is govern'd by God, by what kind of Government are its Affairs managed?

I can not well comprehend thy Question, therefore I cannot readily answer it.

I was not then deceiv'd when I thought there was something wanting, some Vacuity or Breach by which this whole Train of Perturbations found a way into thy Mind. But tell me, dost thou remem­ber what is the chief End of all things, and whither the whole Mass and Body of Nature doth tend?

I have heard what it is, but my Griefs have dulled my Memory, and eras'd almost every thing out of it.

But how then dost thou know from whence all things have, their Being?

That I remember well, and told thee, it was from God.

And how then doth it come to pass, that thou knowing the Cause and Beginning of all things, shouldst be ignorant of their End? It hath ever been of the Nature of these Perturbations, to have a Power to unsettle Mens Minds, and to interrupt the [Page 38] Regular Course of thinking; but they never yet could wholly alienate them from the genu­ine Sentiments of true Reason: But I pray thee answer me this, Dost thou remember that thou art a Man?

I am not so much distemper'd but I remember that.

Canst thou then tell me what Man is?

If thou askest me, if I know my self to be a rational and a mortal Creature, I answer, I do know and confess my self to be so.

And dost thou not know that thou art somewhat more than that?

No.

Now I know another, and the greatest Cause of thy Distemper; which is, that thou hast lost the Knowledg of thy self: So that I have plainly found the Source of thy Distem­per, or rather the way of restoring thee to thy Health: For because thou art confounded with the Oblivion of thy self, thou complainest of thy Banishment, and of the Loss of thy Estate. And because thou dost not know what is the End of things, thou dost believe wicked and lawless Men to be powerful and happy. And because thou hast forgotten by what Methods the World is govern'd, thou dost imagine that the many Vicissitudes and Changes of worldly Affairs, come to pass of themselves, and are not directed by any Governour; and dost be­lieve there are no Causes of so important Ef­fects. These may certainly, not only be great Occasions of a Disease, but even of Death it [Page 39] self. But, Thanks be to the Author of Health, who hath not suffer'd thee to be wholly de­serted by Reason; the true Opinion which thou hast of the Government of the World, which thou believest not subject to Humane, but to Divine Wisdom, makes me not doubt of thy Recovery: For by this small Spark, there is to me a great Assurance of vital Heat: But because the Time is not yet come for stronger Remedies, and because it is natural to us to imbrace false Opinions; so soon as we have laid aside the true, from whence a Mist of Disturbances ariseth, which hinders us from a true perception of Objects, I will endeavour, by Lenitives and Fomentations, to dissipate it; so that that Darkness being removed, thou mayst easily perceive the Brightness and Glo­ries of the true Light.

PROSA I.

HAving said this, she was for some time silent; and when she perceived that I disposed my self with a modest Silence and Attention to hear her, she thus bespake me:

[Page 42]If I can see at all into the Causes and Habits of thy Disease, thou art affected with the Loss of thy former Fortune, and languishest with the Desire of its Return: The Change of that, as thou imaginest, towards thee, hath perverted thy Faculties, and alter'd the whole State and Constitution of thy Mind. I understand the manifold Deceits of that ^(a) Prodigy, and I know the bottom of that Familiarity she useth towards all them whom she designs to de­ceive, till she hath left them plunged in Sor­row, and overwhelmed with Misfortunes and Despair. And if impartially, and without Passi­on, thou wilt call her to remembrance, and consider well her Nature, Habits and Deserts, thou wilt soon be undeceived, and find, that even when she did most caress thee, thou didst never enjoy, nor that she having now left thee, thou dost lose any thing of Beauty or of Worth. But, I think, I need not labour much to recal these things into thy Memory; for thou wert wont, when she was present, and flattered thee most, to oppose thy manly Words to her Al­lurements, and to assault her with Arrows [Page 43] drawn from my Quiver; ^(b) I mean with choice Sentences extracted from my Precepts and Labours. But every sudden Change works a great Alteration in the Minds of Men: Hence it is that thou also art departed from the wonted Tranquillity and Peace of thine. But it is now time to give thee some Emollients and pleasant Lenitives, which may make way for more pow­erful Medicines. Approach then, Rhetorick, with all thy perswasive Charms, who then on­ly dost keep the right Path, when thou dost not swerve from my Institutions and Doctrines; and with Rhetorick let Musick also draw near another Servant of my Retinue, and warble out Numbers sometimes more light and airy, sometimes more weighty and con­sistent.

[Page 44]What is it then, O Man, which hath plunged thee into this Abyss of Misery and Sorrow? Certainly thou hast seen something astonishing and new. Dost thou think that Fortune is changed against thee? Thou art deceived: This was always her Custom, and is her Nature: She hath rather, in this Misadventure of thine, preserved her Constancy in changing: Such she was when she deluded thee with her Blandish­ments and false Shews of Felicity. Thou hast had before a full View of the direct Face of this blind Divinity, and thou hast also now be­held her Reverse: She, who nicely conceals her self to others, is wholly displayed and open to thee. If thou approvest of her Manners and Customs, use them, and complain not: If thou dost abominate her Perfidy and Falseness, con­temn and cast her off, whose Sports are so dan­gerous and hurtful: For that which occasions thy Melancholy, ought to have been a Cause of thy greatest Joy and Comfort: For she hath forsaken thee; of whom no Man can be secure but she will leave him also. Dost thou then esteem that to be Happiness which is ever passing, and will not stay? Is that present For­tune so dear to thee which is not permanent, and which, when it is gone, leaves Griefs and Discontents to succeed in its place? So that if a Man at his pleasure cannot retain her, and if when she goeth away she maketh him misera­ble, [Page 45] what is she, being so ready to take her Flight, but a sure Presage of future Calamity? But it is not enough to behold those Objects which are placed before our Eyes; for Wisdom hath a Prospect to the End and Event of things; and Fortune often changing from Adverse to Prosperous, and from Prosperous to Adverse, should make Men neither fear her Threats, nor desire her Favours. To be short, thou must with Patience and Equality of Soul, bear whatever is acted by her upon the Scene of this World, when thou hast once submitted thy Neck to her ponderous Yoke: For if thou dost pretend to prescribe a certain time of Adobe and Recess to her, whom thou hast freely, and of thine own Accord, chosen to be thy Soveraign and Mistress, art thou not injurious to her? and dost thou not, by Impatience, imbitter thy Lot, too hard al­ready, which thou canst not alter by thy most vigorous Efforts? If thou once hast spread thy Sails to the Winds, thou then canst not choose thy Port, but must go whi­ther they will blow thee. When thou com­mittest thy Seed to the Furrows, remember that sometimes the Years are fruitful, often barren. Hast thou given up thy self to the Governance of Fortune? thou canst then do no other thing than obey her Commands. Dost thou endeavour to arrest the forward Force of [Page 46] the rolling ^(c) Wheel? O thou most sottish of all Mortals! when Fortune once becomes sta­ble and fixed, she, in the Hour she is so, leaves off to be Fortune.

PROSA II.

BUT now I would discourse thee a little in the Stile and Person of Fortune, and observe whether her Questions be reasonable or not. First; Why, O Man! dost thou by thy daily Complaints accuse me as guilty? What Injury have I done to thee? What Goods or Advantages have I withdrawn from thee? Im­plead me before what Judg thou pleasest, con­cerning the Possession of Wealth and Digni­ties, and if thou canst prove that ever any Man had a true and fix'd Propriety in them, I will then readily grant, that those things were thine which thou dost so earnestly desire to be resto­red to thee. When Nature first brought thee [Page 48] out of the Womb into this World, I received thee naked, necessitous, and stripp'd of all things, and (which now is the Cause of thy Impatience against me) I indulgently educated thee, I heaped my Blessings upon thee, and en­compassed thee with Glory and Splendor, and with an Affluence of all things which were in my Power; now when I have a mind to with­draw my Bounty, and to stop the Current of my Favours, be thankful for the Use of that which was not properly thine. Thou hast no just Cause of Complaint, for thou hast lost no­thing which was thy own: Why then dost thou mourn? I have done thee no Wrong. Riches, Honours, and all other things of that kind, are subject to me, and in my Power; they are my Servants, and acknowledg me their Mistress; they come with me, and when I depart they follow. I dare boldly affirm, that if those things (the want of which thou dost now deplore) had been thine own, thou hadst not lost them: Shall I alone be forbid to exercise my own Power, and to use my own Right? Heaven takes the liberty to bless the World with fair and sunny Days, and again to vail them in dark and cloudy Nights. The Year graces the Face of the Earth with Fruits, and bindeth her Head with Chaplets of Flow­ers; and again she destroys these with Rains and Frosts. 'Tis lawful also for the Sea now to [Page 49] appear with a calm and smooth Brow, and a­gain to rage in Storms and Tempests: And shall the boundless Covetousness, and other depraved Affections of Men, oblige me to Con­stancy, which is so contrary to my Nature and Customs? This is my Power, and this my con­tinual Sport and Exercise. I turn with a flying Motion the rolling Wheel, pleasing my self to exalt what was below, and to depress and humble what was on high: Ascend then, if thou pleasest, to the height, but upon this con­dition, that thou shalt not think I do thee an In­jury if I make thee descend when my Sport or Humour require it. But art thou not acquaint­ed with my Ways and Methods? Dost thou not know that ^(e) Croesus King of the Lydians, who, not long before, having been formidable to Cyrus, and being taken by him, was led to the Flames, to be a miserable Sacrifice to his Fury; was delivered by a Shower, which in that Moment was poured down from Heaven? [Page 50] Hast thou forgot how Paulus Aemilius, Con­sul of Rome, when he had taken ^(f) Perseus King of the Macedonians, was grieved, and even wept for his Sorrows and Captivity? What doth the Tragick Buskin more exclaim against than Fortune, overturning with an un­distinguishing Stroke the Happiness and Peace of Kings and Common-wealths? Dist thou not learn, when thou wert young, that Jupiter, at the Entry of his Palace of Olympus, doth al­ways reserve [...]. two great ^(g) Tuns; out of the one of which he dispenses Good, out of the other Evil to the World? What if thou hast drunk too deep of the Vessel of Good? What if, for the present, I have only vailed my self, and am not wholly departed from thee? What if even this very [Page 51] Mutability, so much complained of, which is of my Essence, should give thee just Cause to hope for, and expect better things? Yet do not despair, be not dismayed; nor desire, whilst thou art plac'd within the common Circum­stances of Humanity, to live under a Law, to be calculated for thy Meridian, and to be ap­propriated to thy Complexion and Inclinations.

PROSA III.

IF therefore Fortune should speak for her self to thee on this manner, I believe thou hast not any thing to answer; or if thou hast any thing by which thou canst defend thy Complaint, offer it, and thou shalt have free Liberty to speak.

These things which thou urgest are indeed specious, being enriched with all the Charms of Rhetorick and Musick; yet their Sound then only affects and delights us, when they strike our Ears: But the Mise­rable have a much deeper Sense of their Mis­fortunes, which these Notes cannot remove; and when they leave off to entertain our Ears, their Sorrow, which is settled within, with greater Force attacks the Mind.

So it is indeed; for these are not Specificks for thy Dis­ease which rebels against its Cure, but rather Nourishers of it: when time serves I shall ad­minister [Page 53] those things which will pierce to its bottom. But, nevertheless, that thou mayst not number thy self amongst the Miserable, let me ask thee, hast thou forgot the measure of thy Happiness and Prosperity? I speak not of the Care which the Chief Men of the City took of thee, when thou wert left an Orphan, when thou wert grac'd with the Affinity of those great Personages, and wert taken into their Af­fections, before thou wert received into their Alliance, which is the most happy and estima­ble kind of Propinquity. Who did not account thee most happy in the Noble Alliance of thy ^(h) Fathers-in-law; in the chaste and exemplary Vertues of thy ⁽ⁱ⁾ Wife; and in the Noble Dispositions of thy ^(k) Sons? I pass by (for common things I will not mention) those Dig­nities conferr'd upon ^(l) thee in thy Youth, which have often been denied to antient Men; for I am impatient to come to that which was [Page 54] the Crown of thy Felicity: If the Fruits of hu­mane Labours can have any Weight of Happi­ness, can the Memory of that Day, for any Evil which may since have befallen thee, ever pass out of thy Mind, in which thou sawest thy two Sons advanced to the Degree of Consuls, carried from thy House, accompanied by so great a Number of Senators, and with the Joys and Acclamations of the People? when thou sawest them in the Court placed in their ^(m) Cu­rule Seats, and thy self in the Praises of the ab­sent King Theodorick didst display the Treasures of thy Wit, and didst deserve the Crown of Eloquence? when in the ⁽ⁿ⁾ Circus thou sitting betwixt the Consuls, didst satisfy the Expectati­on of the Multitude, which stood about thee, with a triumphal Largess? Thou then didst flatter Fortune by thy Expressions, when she [Page 55] seemed to hug and caress thee as her Friend and Delight. Thou then receivedst from her such a Gift as was never before made to any private Man. Wilt thou then come to an account with her? This is the first time that she hath looked unkindly upon thee; and if thou wilt equally weigh the Number of thy Blessings and Affli­ctions, thou canst not but in Justice acknowledg that thou art yet happy: For if therefore thou dost esteem thy self unfortunate, because the things which heretofore seem'd pleasing to thee are passed away, there is no reason for it, be­cause even those things which do now afflict thee, do also pass. Art thou but just now en­tred a Stranger upon the Scene of this World? Dost thou but now appear in this Theatre? Believest thou that there can be any Constancy or Stability in humane Affairs, when thou seest that an Hour, or a quicker Minute, dissolves humane Nature, and separates the Soul from the Body? For although there is seldom Hope that the things of Fortune will continue with us, yet the last Day of a Man's Life seemeth to be the last also of that Prosperity which re­mains with us. Where then is the great Diffe­rence? What doth it import then, whether thou by Death leavest it, or it by Flight doth leave thee?

PROSA IV.

ALL this which thou recountest, O thou Source and Nourisher of all Vertues, is most true; nor can I deny the quick and early Arrival of my Prosperity. But one thing, when I remember it, doth most sensibly afflict me; for nothing doth more add to a Man's Infelicity, than the remembrance that he was once happy.

That thou dost yet groan under the Torment of thy ill-grounded Opinion, is not to be imputed to the evil Estate of thy Affairs; for if this empty Name of un­certain Happiness moves thee, do but recollect with me, what Plenty thou enjoyest, and what is yet reserved safe to thee: And therefore if thou yet dost possess that which in the best times thou didst account most precious, it being yet by the Hand of Heaven preserved safe and in­violate, canst thou justly then complain of the Injuries of Fortune? Symmachus thy Father-in-law, [Page 59] the Delight and Ornament of Mankind, whose Welfare thou wouldst readily purchase at the rate of thy Life; one, who by an admira­ble Temper and Mixture is wholly made up of Wisdom and Vertue, is yet safe, and fearless of his own Concerns; only laments thy Inju­ries, and grieves for thy Misfortunes. Thy Wife yet lives an Example of Modesty, and a Pattern of Chastity; and that I may in one Word include all her Endowments and Per­fections, the true Resemblance of her Father: She lives, I say, and being weary of Life, breaths only for thy sake, and (in which thing alone I will yield that thy Happiness receives Diminution) she pines away with Grief and Tears, and with the Desire of once more en­joying thy sweet Conversation. Why should I mention thy Consular Sons, in whom, being yet so young, so much of the Wit and Spirit of the Grand-father and Father doth shine? Since then it is the chief Care of Men to preserve Life, thou art most happy, if thou wouldst but know it, to whom so many Advantages and Blessings yet remain, which all Men value above Life. Wherefore dry up thy Tears, Fortune hath not expressed her Rage and Malice against you all; nor hath the Tempest been too vio­lent, whilst thy Anchors yet hold, and afford to thee Cause of present Comfort, and Hope of future Felicity.

And may they ever hold! [Page 60] for whilst they are firm, however things go, I shall shift so as to keep my Vessel above the Water, and perhaps to escape; but notwith­standing you may see from what Advantages and Dignities I am fallen.

I should think that we had made a good Advance, if thou didst not yet retain a Concern for the Diminuti­on of thy former Estate. But I cannot suffer that thou shouldest, with so much Delight, mention thy Fortunes, and in so much Anxiety bewail the Loss of so small a part of them: For whose Felicity is so well grounded, who hath not in some things cause to quarrel with his Lot? The Condition of humane Goods is anxi­ous and inconstant; for either they do not all at once arrive, or if they do, they make no stay with us. One Man is blessed with a great Afflu­ence of Wealth, but he is ashamed of the Base­ness of his Blood. The Nobility of that Man's Descent makes him conspicuous, but being un­easy within the Bounds of a narrow Estate, and so unable to bear up the Port of his Ancestors, he had rather live retired and unknown. Ano­ther abounds with Wealth, and is nobly born too, but he is unmarried, and to compleat his Happiness he would have a Wife. Another is happy in Wedlock, but he wants Children, and is troubled that he must gather Riches for ano­ther Man's Heir. Another hath the Joy of ma­ny Children, but is soon again mortified by see­ing [Page 61] the evil Courses which they take. There­fore we fee, that no Man can easily agree with the State of his Fortune; for in all Conditions there is something which, untry'd, a Man doth not know, and which after trial he doth not ap­prove. Add also to this, that the Senses of the Happy are refined and delicate; and unless eve­ry thing happens to them as they desire, or when it pleaseth them, they are impatient: He who is not used to Adversity, is overcome and thrown down by every cross Adventure; and the least evil Acccidents discompose him: upon so minute and slender things doth the Happiness of the most Fortunate depend. How many Men are there in the World, dost thou believe, who would think themselves advanced almost to Heaven, if they could attain but to the least part of the Remainder of thy Fortunes? This very Place, which thou callest a Place of Ba­nishment, is their Country who inhabit it: And thy Miseries arise only from the ill-ground­ed Opinion that thou art miserable. And again, every Lot may be happy to that Man who can with Equanimity and Courage bear it. Who is he so happy, who when once he grows impati­ent, doth not desire to change his State of Life? How much is humane Felicity imbittered! which though it may seem sweet to the Enjoyer, yet is not to be retained, but when it pleaseth takes its Flight? So that hence it may appear; [Page 62] how miserable even the greatest Felicity of Men is, since it will not remain with those, who with Equality bear every kind of Lot, nor will bring Comfort to those whose Minds are anxi­ous and oppressed. Why therefore, O wretched Mortals, do ye so industriously seek abroad for that Felicity which is placed at home within your selves? Error and Ignorance mislead and confound you. But I, in short, will shew you the very Hinge upon which the truest Happi­ness doth turn. Is there any thing more preti­ous and estimable to thee than thy self? No, thou wilt say. Then if thou wilt weigh things well, and gain the Command over thy self, thou wilt possess that which thou wouldst ne­ver lose, and which Fortune can never take from thee. And that thou mayst see that Bea­titude cannot consist in those things which are in the Power of Fortune, only consider thus; If Happiness be the Sovereign Good of Nature, living and subsisting by Reason, then that thing cannot be it, which can by any means be with­drawn from us, because that which cannot be taken away is worthily esteemed the most ex­cellent. Hence it appears that Instability of Fortune is not susceptive of true Happiness. Add to this, that he who is carried away by fading Felicity, doth either know that it is mu­table, or he doth not. If he knows it not, what Happiness can he take in the Blindness of [Page 63] his Ignorance? If he knows it, he must necessa­rily be afraid lest he should lose that which he knows is easily to be lost; and in that case his continual Fear will not suffer him to be happy. Perhaps he cares not if he should lose it, and he would not be much troubled at its Loss. Even truly the Good is but very small and inconsidera­ble, the Loss of which a Man can bear with such Equanimity and Unconcernedness. And because I know that thou art one who hast been fully perswaded, and by many Demonstrations convinced of the Immortality of the Souls of Men; it also being evident that the Goods of Fortune receive a Period with our Bodies by Death; it cannot then be doubted but if Death can put an end to our Happiness, that all Men, when they die, are plunged into the Depths of Misery. And since we know well, that many Men have endeavoured to obtain Felicity, not only by undergoing Death, but by suffering the most cruel Pains and Torments, how then can it be imagined that this present Life can make Men truly happy, since, when it is ended, Men do not become miserable?

PROSA V.

BUT forasmuch as the Applications of my Reasons have sunk into thee, I think it is now time to use some more power­ful Medicines: Go to then, if the Gifts of For­tune were not fading and momentary, as they are, what is there to be found in them which may, at any time, be accounted thine? or which, if it be thorowly considered and looked into, will not appear to be vile and unworthy? Are Riches in their own Nature, or by the Estima­tion of Men, pretious? What sort of Riches is most excellent? Gold, or a great Mass of Silver gathered together? But this appears more glo­rious by spending it, than by treasuring it up; for Avarice always makes Men odious, and Bounty makes them famous and renowned. And if that which is conferr'd upon another cannot continue with any Man, then certainly is Money most pretious when it is translated to others; and ceases to be possess'd by him who hath given it. If all the Money that is in all Parts of the World were gathered into one Hand, the rest of Mankind would be needful and want it. The Sound of a Voice, if it be entire, and not obstructed by any Medium, doth at the same time fill the Ears of many People; [Page 66] but Riches, unless they be diminished and can­ton'd, cannot meet the Necessities of many; and that being done, they whom they have left must unavoidably submit to Poverty. O therefore (may I justly say) narrow, mean, and even poor Riches! which cannot all be en­joyed by many at the same time, and which can­not be possess'd by one, without impoverishing and ruining the rest of Mankind! Doth the Brightness of Jewels attract the Eye? But if there be any thing extraordinary in their Splen­dor, it is the Brightness of the Stones, and not of the Eye which beholds them; therefore I very much wonder that Men should admire them: For what is it which wants the Facul­ties and Motions of a Soul, and the Contexture of Joints, which can really seem beautiful to a rational Nature? For although from the Hand of the great Workman, and for Distinction's sake, they have derived something of an infe­riour Grace and Beauty, yet they are placed below thy Excellence, and by no means wor­thy to attract thy Admiration. Doth the Beau­ty of the Fields delight thee much?

Why should it not? for it is a fair Part of the fairest Work, the Creation of the Universe: So some­times we are delighted with the Clearness of the Sea's Face; sometimes we admire the Hea­vens, the Stars, the Sun, and Moon.

What do these things concern thee? Darest thou glo­ry [Page 67] in the Splendor of these things? Art thou embelished, or any way distinguished by the Flowers of the Spring? or doth thy Plenty swell in the fruitful Face of Summer? Why art thou carried away with empty Joys? Why dost thou embrace that Good which is out of thy Power? for Fortune can never make that thine, which the Nature of things forbid to be so. The Fruits of the Earth are doubtless for the Nourishment of living Creatures; and if thou wouldst confine thy self to the supply­ing only of the Necessities of Nature, thou wouldst not so much seek after the Affluence and Gifts of Fortune: For Nature is satisfied with few things, and those the least: And if thou dost, after such Satiety, overcharge her with Superfluities, that which thou dost su­peradd, becomes either unpleasant or hurtful to her. To proceed, dost thou think that it re­commends thee to the World to shine in Varie­ty of costly Clothes? the Sight of which, if it be grateful to the Eye, the Matter or the Inge­nuity of the Workman is to be admired. Doth a great Retinue, and the Attendance of a nu­merous Train of Servants, make thee happy? If those Servants be vitious, they are a great Burden to the House, and pernicious Enemies to the Master of it. But if they be good, why should the Vertue and Goodness of others be put to thy Account? From all which it plainly [Page 68] appears, that none of these which thou didst number among thy own Goods, were really to be esteemed so. In which, if there be no things desirable, what Reason is there that thou shouldst grieve for the loss of them, or rejoice at their possession? If they are fair or beautiful by Nature, what doth that concern thee? For so by themselves, wholly sequestred from thy Riches, they would please: They therefore are not to be esteemed pretious because they are numbred amongst thy Goods, but because they seemed so before thou wert desirous to possess them. What is it then, that with so much Noise, and so much Address, we desire of For­tune? It is, perhaps, to drive away the Fear of Poverty by a general Affluence of Wealth; but this often happens otherwise: for there is great need of many Helps even to keep so great an Accession of Furniture, and Variety of things after they are obtained: And it is most true, that they want most things who possess the most: And on the other side, they want the fewest who measure their Abundance by the Necessities of Nature, and not by the Extrava­gance of Excentrick and irregular Desires. Is it so then, that Men have no proper and genu­ine Good planted within them, but that they must be forced to go abroad to seek it? Are things so changed, that Man, that excellent Creature, whose Reason almost entitles him to [Page 69] Divinity, can be no other way sensible of his own Glories, than by the possession of soul-less and unnecessary things? All other Beings are content with their own Endowments, and you only (who are the Image of God) vainly seek accessional Ornaments for your excelling Na­ture, from things placed so much below you, not understanding how great an Injury you do by it to your Maker. He ordained the Race of Men to excel all other earthly Creatures; and you depress your Dignity and Prerogative below the lowest Beings. For if that Good which be­longs to any thing be more pretious and worthy than that thing to which it belongs, since you esteem'd the most contemptible things to be your Good, you submit your self, by that your Esteem, to them, and take the lower Place: And this is but what you deserve. For such is the Nature of Man, that he doth then only excel other Beings, when he knows him­self: But he may be ranked below the Beasts that perish, when he once slights that necessary and important Knowledg▪ For such Ignorance is natural to other Creatures; but to Man it is unnatural and a Vice. How weak and open an Error is it in Men, who imagine that any thing which is foreign to their Natures, can be an Or­nament to them? That cannot in Reality be so; for if any thing look bright and glorious with that which is put upon it, that which co­vers [Page 70] it is said to shine, and is admired; but not­withstanding the thing covered still continues in its natural Impurity and Disesteem. I there­fore deny that thing to be good which is hurtful to him who possesses it. Am I deceived in this? Thou wilt say, no; for Riches have often hurt their Possessors, since every ill Man is the more desirous of other Mens Riches, and he thinketh him alone who is in possession of such things, to be a Man of Worth, and to be esteemed. Thou therefore who now so much fearest to be assaulted by the Spear or the Sword, if thou hadst entred into the Path of this Life not incumbred with Riches, thou mightst, like the way-faring Man, with an empty Purse have sung before the Robbers. The Happiness then derived from fading Riches is glorious indeed and great; by the possession of which a Man loseth his Security and Quiet.

PROSA VI.

BUT why should I discourse of Digni­ties and Powers, which Men (wholly ignorant of the true Nature of Dignity and Power) advance and extol to the Skies? which, if they are conferr'd upon a wicked Man, not the raging Flames of Aetna, nor the most impetuous Deluge ravage so much, nor do so much harm as those Weapons in such an hand. I believe you remem­ber, your Ancestors desired to abolish the [Page 74] ^(u) Consular Government, which gave begin­ning to the Roman Liberty, because of the Pride of the Consuls; as their Ancestors before, for the same Consideration, had banished Kings out of their City. But if sometimes (which seldom happens) good Men arrive at them, what other thing is there pleasing in them, be­sides the Probity of those who use and enjoy them? So it comes to pass that Vertue receives not Honour from Dignities, but Dignities derive Honour from Vertue. But what is this Power so much celebrated, and so much de­sired? O ye terrene Animals! do you not con­sider who they are over whom you seem to ex­ercise Authority? If thou shouldst see an am­bitious Mouse, claiming a Superiority with her [Page 75] self over the rest of her Species, wouldst thou not almost burst with Laughter? So then, if thou considerest the Contexture and Tempera­ment of his Body, what canst thou find in the World more feeble than Man, or more subject to Casualties and Misfortunes, to whom even a Fly (one of the smallest Products of Nature) by a Bite, or by creeping into the secret Re­cesses of his Body, may be the Cause of Death? But why should any Man exercise Au­thority over another, unless it be over his Body, or what is yet inferiour to that, over his Possessi­ons, which are the Gifts of Fortune? Shalt thou ever gain an Ascendant over a free and clear Soul? Shalt thou ever move the high-born Mind, consistent with it self, and knit together by the Bands of Reason, from the proper Cen­tre of its Quiet? When a certain Tyrant once thought by Torments to compel a ^(w) Free Man to discover some Persons who had con­spired against his Life, the Man bit off his own Tongue, and spit it in his Face swelling and bloated with Rage: so by his Wisdom disap­pointing [Page 76] the Tyrant, and making those Tor­ments which his Cruelty had designed, Matter of Triumph to his Heroick Courage. To go further, what is it that any Man may do to ano­ther, which another may not do again to him? We are told, that it was the Custom of ^(x) Bu­siris to kill his Guests, and himself at last was killed by Hercules his Guest. ^(y) Regulus after a Victory put many of the Carthaginians into Chains, but himself soon after was forced to yield to their Fetters. Dost thou therefore think that the Power of that Man ought to be mag­nified, who cannot hinder another from com­mitting that upon him which he lately com­mitted upon another? Consider too, that if there were any thing of proper or natural Good in these Dignities and Powers, they would ne­ver be attained by wicked Men, for disagreeing [Page 77] things do not use to unite; and Nature forbids that contrary things should join: So that seeing wicked Men do often execute Offices of Digni­ty and Trust, it appears that they are not good in themselves, because they can reside in such Subjects. The same may also be most justly said of all the Gifts of Fortune which are most commonly shewed in greatest Plenty upon the worst of Men. It ought also to be considered, that no Man doubteth him to be valiant, in whom he hath seen the Vertue of Fortitude shine: nor him to be swift of foot, in whom he hath seen Swiftness. So Musick maketh a a Musician; the Science of Physick a Phy­sician; and Rhetorick a Rhetorician. The Nature of every thing acts properly accord­ing to its End, nor is mix'd with foreign Effects of differing Beings, but of its own Ac­cord repels what is contrariant to it, or may be destructive of it. Riches cannot extinguish the unquenchable Thirst of Avarice; nor can Power give him Command of himself, who is already the Slave of his Vices, and bound in the insoluble Chains of his Lusts. So Dignities con­ferr'd upon ill Men do not only not make them worthy, but rather shew their Unworthiness by laying them open, and discovering their Shame. But how comes this to pass? you are pleased to impose upon things false Names, and differing from their Natures, which are often [Page 78] laid open, and appear by the Effects of those very things: so that even these Riches, and this Power, and that Dignity, ought not of right to be called by those Names. And lastly, the same thing may be said of all the Gifts of For­tune, in which it is manifest, that nothing is desirable, nor is there any thing of native Good in them, since they are not always the Lot of good Men, nor make them good to whom they are allotted.

PROSA VII.

THOU knowest well that I did the least of any Man covet mortal and fading Possessions; I only desired an honoura­ble Occasion of being employed in Business and fit Matter to exercise my Vertue, lest it should silently grow useless and old.

This is one thing which may tempt, I had almost said de­bauch, some Minds naturally well inclin'd and endowed, though not yet arrived at the Per­fection of Vertue, I mean the Desire of Glory, and the Fame of having deserved well of ones Country and the Common-wealth: but how [Page 81] small, and how truly void of Weight even that is, do but from hence observe: Thou hast learnt from Astrological Demonstrations, that the whole Circuit of the Earth bears the Pro­portion only of a Point to the Greatness of the Heaven; that is, if it be compar'd to the Mag­nitude of the Celestial Globe, it may be judged to have no Space or Compass. And of this small Region of the World, almost the fourth Part is inhabited by living Creatures, known to us, as Ptolomy hath seemed to prove. And if thou shalt abate also all which is overflown by the Sea, and Marshes, and Lakes, and also all that Space of the Globe which is desart and overspread with Sands, or burnt up by the too near Vicinity of the Sun, thou wilt find that what is left for the Habitation of Men, is but a very small Proportion. And do you who are placed in, and confined to the least Point of this Point, think of nothing but of propagating your Fame, and exerting your Names, and making your selves renowned? What is there august or magnificent in Glory, confined to so small and narrow Bounds? Add to this, that this little Enclosure is inhabited by several Na­tions differing in Tongue, in Manners, and in way of Life: to whom, as well by reason of the Difficulties and Inconveniencies of Journy­ing, as by the Diversity of Languages, and the Unfrequency of Commerce, not only the Fame [Page 82] of particular Men, but even the Names of great Cities, cannot arrive. In the time of Marcus Tullius, as himself in his Writings tells us, the Fame of the Roman Common-wealth, which was then well grown and robust, and redou­bled by the Parthians and several other Nations in these Parts, was not yet known to those who inhabited beyond the Mountain Caucasus. Thou seest then how narrow and strait that Glory is which thou labourest so much to propagate and dilate. Dost thou think that the Glories of a Roman Man shall reach those Places where the Fame and Story of the illustrious Roman Common-wealth would never reach? Do not the Customs and Institutions of several Coun­tries disagree among themselves; so that that which with some is adjudged to be Praise-wor­thy, with others is thought to deserve Disgrace and Punishment. Hence it appears, that it is not the Interest of any Man who desires Re­nown, to have his Name spread through many Countries, and divers People, but that he should be content with that Glory and Fame which he can arrive at amongst his Country­men, and not care to have the Immortality of it extended beyond the Bounds of one Coun­try. But how many Men, great and famous in their Generations, hath the Carelesness and Neglect of Writers passed by in Silence? Al­though indeed one may justly ask, what can [Page 83] such Memorials profit a Man, which with their Authors must at length yield to the Powers of Age, and be with them buried in Oblivion? But Men imagine that they have obtained Im­mortality if their Names shall but live in future Ages. But if they would compare this to the infinite Progress of Eternity, what have they which should make them pleased at the Diuturnity of their Fame? For if the Duration of one Moment be compared with that of ten thousand Years, the Spaces of both being defi­nite, it hath some, though a very little Portion of it. (But yet this very Number of Years, and as many more as can by Numbers be multipli­ed, cannot at all be compared to endless Du­ration: For there may be some Comparison betwixt finite Beings amongst themselves, but there can be none at all betwixt Infinite and Fi­nite. Hence it is that Fame (however durable and lasting) considered with infinite Eternity, will seem not only to be little, but indeed no­thing. But you think you cannot do well, un­less you have the empty Applause of the Peo­ple; and forgoing the Pleasures of a good Con­science, and the Consideration of the innate Worth of Vertue, and the Pleasure of Actions resulting from it, you look for a Reward from the partial Breath, and vain Discourses of the Many. Observe now how one once ingeniously plaid upon the Lightness and Folly of such Ar­rogance. [Page 84] A certain Person accosted another with contumelious Language, who had assumed to himself the Name of a Philosopher, not out of a Principle of Vertue, but for the itch of Vain-glory: and he added, that he should now know if he were a true Philosopher, by bear­ing patiently the Injuries offered to him; he putting on for a while a counterfeit Patience, said then to the other, Dost thou now believe me to be a Philosopher? He answered smartly again, I had indeed believed it, if thou couldst still have held thy Tongue. What then is it that great and worthy Men (for of such I speak) who would by vertuous ways acquire Glory; what is it (I say) of Advantage which they receive by a great Name after the Body is resolved into Dust? For if (which our Reason and Religion forbids us to believe) the whole Fabrick of Man, Body and Soul, is dissolv'd, and dies together, then is there no Glory; nor can there be when he (to whom it belongs) doth no more exist. But if the Soul which hath deserved well, when it's enlarg'd from its earthly Prison, doth take a swift and unim­peach'd Flight to Heaven, will it not despise the Earth and its Businesses; and being wrapt in the Joys of Heaven, rejoice that it is wholly exempt from sublunary Considerations and Concerns?

PROSA VIII.

BUT lest thou shouldst believe that I am an inexorable Enemy to Fortune, and wage an endless War against her, I shall con­fess, that there are sometimes when that faith­less One may deserve well of Men; then I mean when she opens and discovers her self, and free­ly confesses her self to be what she really is. Thou dost not perhaps yet understand what I [Page 88] am about to say. The thing is wonderful which I desire to tell thee, and therefore I almost want Words to express this Paradox, to wit, that adverse Fortune doth more profit and truly more advantage Men than prosperous: For this, under the Cloak and Shew of Happiness, when she smileth and caresses, lies and deceives; the other always fairly and openly declares her En­mity, and shews her Instability by her constant Changes: That deceives, this instructs; that by a precious Shew of Good binds the Minds of those she favours; this by the Knowledg of her Fickleness frees and absolves them: there­fore thou mayst observe the one always faith­less, airy, wavering, and ignorant of its own Condition; the other sober, stay'd, and even prudent in managing and making the best use of Adversity. Lastly, prosperous Fortune, by her Allurements and Blandishments, draws Men from the right, aside, and out of the di­rect way, leading to that which is the sovereign Good; whilst, for the most part, the other doth not only lead Men, but as it were draw them with a Hook to true and genuine Happi­ness. Further, thinkest thou that it is to be esteemed the least Good which we receive from this hard, and at the first sight, horrible For­tune, that she doth discover to thee the Hearts of thy faithful Friends, since she distinguisheth between the constant and doubtful Counte­nances [Page 89] of thy Companions and Acquaintance; and when she departeth, that she taketh away her Friends and leaves thine. At what rate wouldst thou have bought the knowledg of this, when thou wert (as it seemed to thee) in thy prosperous Estate? Forbear then to deplore the Loss of thy Riches and Honours, since thou hast found the most valuable Jewel, the most pretious kind of Riches, I mean the Knowledg of thy unalterable and sincere Friends.

PROSA I.

BY this time she had ended her Song, when I, desirous to hear more, was so charmed by the pleasantness of it, that I stood long expecting that she would proceed: but at last said I, O thou chief Support and Stay of lan­guishing Minds, how much hast thou refreshed me either with the weight of thy Sentences or the sweetness of thy Numbers! so that now I almost think my self an equal Match for For­tune, and able to resist her Blows. Therefore I do not only not fear the Applications of those Remedies, which thou didst say a little before were sharp, but I earnestly desire to hear what they are. I well perceived that, returned she, when with silence and attention thou didst re­ceive my Words; and I did then expect such a State of Mind in thee, or what is more true, I did then create in thee such an one. And indeed what yet remains to be said is of such a Nature, that when it is first tasted, it seems to bite, and is unpleasant; but when it is once swallowed it turns sweet, and is most grateful to the Sto­mach. But because thou sayst thou wouldst now gladly hear, with what Desire wouldst thou burn, if thou couldst imagine whither I am now about to lead thee? Whither is that I [Page 93] pray thee? (said I). To that true genuine Feli­city, answered she, which thy Mind doth ap­prehend as if it were in a Dream, and of which thou seemest to have some Foretaste. But thy Sight is so clouded with false Forms, and light Appearances, that it cannot bear the Lustre of that Object. Then I intreat thee without Delay, shew me that true Happiness. I will most willingly, at thy Desire, do it, replied she: but I will endeavour to describe that false and adulterate Cause which is better known to thee; and that being fully laid open, thou wilt be better able to comprehend that exact Model of true Felicity which I shall draw by casting thine Eye upon its contrary.

PROSA II.

THEN fixing her Eye a little, and as it were withdrawing her self into the most inward Cabinet of her Mind, she thus began; All the Care and manifold Studies of Men do indeed proceed in differing Paths, but they tend to one only End, which is Happiness: And Happiness is that compleat Good, of which when a Man is once possessed, he hath nothing more to desire. This indeed is the Sovereign [Page 95] Good of all, and contains all others in it: To which, if any thing were wanting, it could not be the chief, because there would be some­thing without it self, some foreign Advantage which were to be desired. It is therefore ap­parent that Blessedness or Happiness is that per­fect State in which all other Goods meet and centre; which, as I have said, all Men endea­vour to arrive at by differing Ways and Means: For in the Minds of Men there is naturally in­serted a Desire of the true Good, but wan­dring Error leads them to the false and fictiti­ous one; so that some, believing it to be the chief of Goods to want nothing, labour for an abundance of Riches: Others again believing Happiness to consist in being reverenced and esteemed by their Country-men, endeavour all they can after Honours. There are also those who place it in Power, and these endeavour ei­ther to rule themselves, or to be Favourites to those who actually govern. There are those also who fancy an high Renown to be the height of Happiness; and these, by all the Arts of War and Peace, hasten to propagate their Names, and to arrive at Glory. Many mea­sure the Fruits of this Good by Joy and Chear­fulness, and they think it the happiest thing in the World to abound in Luxury, and to be dis­solved in Pleasures. Some there are who use these Causes and Ends interchangeably; as they [Page 96] who desire Riches as a Means to obtain Power and Pleasures; or as they who desire Power, ei­ther that by it they may get Money or pur­chase a Name: About these and such like things the Intention of all humane Actions and Desires is versed and employed, as Nobility and popular Applause are sought after by some, which Men think do make them famous, and Wives and Children by others are desired for the sake of Pleasure. Only Friendship, which is a sacred kind of Tie, is not to be reckoned amongst the Goods of Fortune, but amongst those of Vertue: but all other things are de­sired either for the Power or the Pleasure which they afford. Now for the Goods of the Body, they are to be referred to the things mentioned before: For Strength, and the large Proportion of Parts, seem to give Power and Worthiness, Beauty and Swiftness, to afford Glory and Fame; and Health and Indolence of Body yield Joy and Pleasure. In all these things it appears that Happiness is only wanting; for whatever any one desireth above other things, he judgeth that to be the chief Good: But we have already defined Happiness to be the So­veraign of Goods; wherefore every one judgeth that to be the happiest State, which he desires above all others. Thou hast now therefore be­fore thine Eyes an exact Scheme and Form of humane Felicity, that is, Riches, Honours, [Page 97] Powers, Glory and Pleasure, which last was only considered by ^(c) Epicurus; and conse­quently he did declare that Happiness consisted in that alone, because he imagined that other things did withdraw Joy and Chearfulness from the Heart and Spirits. But I return to the Stu­dies and Inclinations of Men, whose Minds are always bent upon the chief Good, and are ever seeking after it, though it seemeth to be as with a darkned Understanding, and like a drunken Man reeling about, and not knowing which Path to take which may lead him home. Do they, let me ask thee, seem to wander who en­deavour to put themselves into a Condition of wanting nothing? Certainly there is no State doth so much afford Happiness as that of having Plenty and Affluence of all good things, of be­ing out of need of being beholden to another, but having sufficient for one's self. Or are they guilty of Folly who think that what is the best doth deserve Esteem and Reverence? Certain­ly [Page 98] no; for that thing is surely not vile and con­temptible, which all Men with so much Inten­tion labour after. Is not Power to be num­bred amongst Goods? why not? for is that to be esteemed feeble and without Strength, which is apparently better than all other things? Is Renown not to be regarded? but it cannot be denied, but that whatever is most excellent seemeth also to be most renowned. For to what purpose shall we say that Happiness is not an anxious and melancholy thing, nor subject to Grief and Trouble, since even in the least things Men seek for what may delight and please them? These are the things which Men de­sire to obtain and possess, and for this Cause do they labour after Riches, Dignities, Com­mands, Glory, and Pleasure, that they may have Sufficiences and Abundance within them­selves, that so they may arrive at Esteem, Pow­er and Fame. It must therefore be a Good, of which all are in quest by so divers Ways and different Studies: And from hence it may ea­sily appear how great the Power and Force of Nature is, since notwithstanding that all Men differ very much in their Opinions of Good, yet they All agree in the choice of the End of it.

PROSA III.

AND you, O Men, whose Thoughts are so employed upon things below, that I may fitly call you earthly Animals, do think ever of your Beginning, though it be but with a dreaming and darkned Imagination, and you have always the true end of Happiness in view, although you have no clear and perfect Notion of it: So that though your natural Intention leads you to the true Good, yet indirect and manifold Error draws you from it. Consider now if Men can by those Means by which they endeavour to attain Happiness, arrive at their desired End. For if Riches, if Honours, and other the like Accessions can place one in such a State, that he shall seem to want no other thing to make him happy, then will I confess that Fe­licity may be derived from such Acquisitions. But if so it be that these cannot make good what they seem so fairly to promise, and that those who possess them in the greatest measure, do yet want many other Advantages and good things, will not the counterfeit and mistaken Face of Happiness be clearly discovered in them? First of all therefore I ask thee, who not long since didst abound in Riches, whether sometimes in that great abundance thy Mind [Page 103] was not anxious and discomposed upon the re­ceiving of any notable Injury?

Truly I never remember that in my most numerous Pro­sperity my Spirits were so free as not to be op­pressed with some Trouble or other.

And was not that because something was absent which thou didst desire, or something present which thou wouldst have had away?

So it was truly.

Why then thou desiredst the Presence of that, and the Absence of this.

I confess it.

Every Man wanteth that which he desireth.

Doubtless he doth.

Can that Man then who wanteth any thing be said to have all things within him­self sufficient for his Necessities?

No.

And didst not thou in all thy Plenty la­bour under this want?

What then?

Then hence it follows that Riches cannot put a Man beyond all want, nor make him self-sufficient, although this was it which they seem'd to promise. And this also I think of great Moment to be considered, that Money hath nothing in its own Nature which can hin­der its being taken from the Possessor, though against his Will.

I confess that.

It ought to be confess'd, when we see every Day that the stronger takes it from the weaker. From whence spring all Debates at Law, and all Complaints in Courts of Judicature, but from this, that Men desire to recover their [Page 104] Estates and Goods, of which they have been bereft either by Force or Fraud?

It is plain.

Then every Man needeth foreign Helps to maintain the Possession of his Money.

Who denies it?

But he would not want such Help unless he were the Owner of Money, which he is in a possibility of losing.

That is unquestionable.

Then is the thing turned into its contrary; for Riches, which were thought to have made a Man self-sufficient, do rather make him have need of Aid from others. By what way do Riches drive away Necessity? Can rich Men be neither hun­gry nor thirsty? Are not the Bodies of the Rich sensible of Winter's Cold? But perhaps thou mayst say, such Men have wherewith to satis­fy this, and to quench that, and to keep out the other. By these Means it's true that Riches may comfort and support those who suffer these things, but they cannot wholly free them from such Inconveniences. But if these Necessities, which are ever gaping and asking for more, cannot be supplied with Wealth, then there still remains something which should be satisfi­ed. I shall not now urge that the smallest things are sufficient for Nature, and that no­thing is enough for Avarice. But if Riches cannot remove Want, but rather create it, why should Men vainly imagine that they can meet and supply all humane Necessities?

PROSA IV.

BUT it may be said that Dignities render those Men honoured and esteem'd who possess them. I shall only then ask, if they have the Power to place Vertue in the Minds of those who enjoy them, and clear them from Vice? Surely no, for it hath been found by experience, that they are so far from expelling vitious Ha­bits, [Page 106] that they rather make them more conspi­cuous. Hence it is that we often so much dis­dain their being conferr'd upon undeserving Men. For which Reason, ^(l) Catullus called ^(m) Nonius the Consul, even when he was [Page 107] sitting in his Ivory Chair, the Strumam appellat. Botch or Impostume of the State. Dost thou not see what great Inconveni­ences Dignities have wrought to wicked Men? Their Deformities would less appear if they were more obscure, and could be content to be with­out honourable Titles. And let me now ask thee, if thou thy self (notwithstanding the Dangers which hang over thee) couldst condescend to be Colleague with ⁽ⁿ⁾ Decoratus in the Magistra­cy, who hath discovered himself to be a saucy Buffoon and an officious Informer? For it is not reasonable to reverence those Men who have ar­rived at Honours without deserving them: but if thou seest a Man endowed with Wisdom, thou couldst not but think him worthy of Re­verence and Esteem, and of the Wisdom with which he is endowed.

No surely, for Vertue hath her proper Worth, which she [Page 108] transfers to those who are her Votaries. And forasmuch as Honours conferr'd by the People cannot make a Man worthy of them, it is clear that they do not contain the genuine Beau­ty of true Worth and Dignity: In this Men also ought to be wary; for if a Man be so much the more abject, by how much the more he is despised of every one; then Dignities which can­not procure Reverence or Esteem to ill Men, whom they expose to the World, do necessarily make them more the Subjects of Contempt and Scorn. Nor do Dignities themselves come off clear; for impious Persons are reveng'd on them, since they fully and stain the Brightness of them by their contagious Villanies. And that thou mayst know that Esteem and Reve­rence cannot be purchased by these transitory and empty Dignities, consider, that if a Man who hath often been Consul, and run through many other honourable Degrees of Magistracy, should perchance arrive in a barbarous Nation, would his Honours, dost thou think, make him be reverenced by those Barbarians? Further, if it were of the Nature of Dignities to make Men venerable and reverenc'd, it would perform that Office in all Places, amongst all Nations, and at all times; as Fire, where-ever it is, ne­ver parts with its innate Quality of being hot. But because Honours do not proceed from any Power in themselves, but arise from the false [Page 109] Opinion of Men, they immediately vanish, when they chance to be amongst those who do not esteem them to be Dignities. But this is amongst foreign Nations. Let me then ask thee, if they always endure even with those from whom they have their Beginnings? The ^(o) Pretorship heretofore was a great and ho­nourable Employ, and much sought after, but now it is only an empty Name, and an heavy Addition to the Senator's Expence, who ever heretofore had the ^(p) Superintendency of the Markets, and was to provide Corn for the People, and had the Care of the publick Victuals, and was esteemed great and honourable; but now what is there more vile and abject than that Employ? So that what I said a little before is very clear, that the thing which hath no proper innate Beauty, must necessarily sometimes be [Page 110] splendid and admired, and sometimes underva­lued and slighted, as the Opinion of the People flows or ebbs. If Dignities therefore cannot give Men Reverence and Esteem, if they become vile by the Contagion of ill Men, if they lose their Lustre by the Change of times, if they are esteemed worthy, or otherwise according to the Estimation of Men, what Beauty then is there in them which should make them desi­rable, or what Dignity can they confer on others?

PROSA V.

CAN Kingdoms or the Familiarity of Princes make a Man mighty?

How can it be otherwise, since their Fe­licity doth always endure?

But mistake not, for both Antiquity and the present Times abound with Examples of Kings and Potentates who have been forced to change an happy for a calamitous Estate. And then we may justly cry out, how great and glorious a thing is Power, which is not of Ability to preserve even it self? But if Dominion and the Rule over many People be the efficient Cause of Happiness, doth not it follow, that if it be defective in any Part, it must ne­cessarily diminish that Happiness and intro­duce Misery? But although humane Empires extend themselves far and wide, there must of necessity be many People over which eve­ry King can have no Command; and on what­soever Hand this Power which constitutes Hap­piness shall fail, there must Impotence enter, which causes Misery. Hence therefore it is na­tural to aver, that Princes must have a larger [Page 112] Portion of Misery than of its contrary. A ^(r) certain Tyrant who well understood the Danger of his Condition, did well express the Fears and Cares which attend Government by the Terror of a naked Sword hanging over a Man's Head. What then is this thing call'd Power, which cannot expel Care, nor banish Fear? Men desire to live secure, but cannot; and yet they glory in and boast of their Power. Canst thou believe him to be powerful, whom thou seest not able to do what he would? or him mighty, who goes surrounded with a Guard, to terrify those of whom he himself is [Page 113] more afraid, and whose Power is seated in the Number of his Attendance? And now why should I trouble my self to discourse of the Favourites of Princes, when I have shew'd even Kingdoms themselves to be sub­ject to so much Imbecility? especially since these gaudy things are often disgraced and ruined, as well when the Prince is fortunate as when he is unhappy. Nero would allow ^(s) Seneca his Friend and Tutor this only Fa­vour, to chuse the manner of his Death after he had condemned him. The Emperor ^(t) An­toninus [Page 114] exposed ^(u) Papinian, who had long been great at Court, to fall by the Swords of his Souldiers. Both of them would willingly have renounced their Authority; and Seneca was willing to have given his whole Estate, and all his Riches into the Hands of Nero, and to have retired: but whilst the Force of Fate pushed them on towards their Fall, neither of them could accomplish what they desired to have done. What then is this Power, of which Men, even when they enjoy it, are afraid? of which, when they are desirous, they are not sure nor safe? and which, when they would lay it down, they cannot be acquitted of it? Are those Friends to be trusted to in time of need, whose Friendship is not founded upon Vertue, but upon thy Fortune? Believe it, they whom thy happy Estate have made so, will change when that is altered; and when thou art miserable, they will be thy Enemies. And what Plague in the World can be greater, or hurt thee more than such an Enemy who hath gain'd an Intimacy with thee?

PROSA VI.

BUT O how deceitful oft, and how de­formed is the thing called Glory! Hence not without Reason did the Tragedian exclaim; [...]. O Glory, Glory, there are thousands of Men who have deserved nothing, whose Lives nevertheless thou hast rendred famous! for many have surreptitiously gotten to them­selves great Names by the false and mistaken Opinions of the Vulgar, than which nothing can be more mean and base: For they who are praised and applauded undeservingly, must needs, if they have any Modesty, be ashamed and blush at the Recital of their own Praises. But if Esteem and Praise be purchased by De­sert, what Satisfaction yet can they add to the Mind of a wise Man, who measures not his Good by popular Rumour, but by the just Rules of Truth and Conscience? And if it seem a fair and noble thing for a Man to have made himself famous, and to have propagated his Name, then by Consequence it must be ad­judged the contrary, not to have done so. But since, as I have before demonstrated, there must be many People in the Earth whom the Renown of one Man could never reach, then of [Page 117] necessity it must follow, that he whom thou ac­countest glorious, must to the greatest part of the World be inglorious and obscure. Amongst these things I do not think popular Favour to be worthy to be taken notice of, which is nei­ther the Product of Judgment, nor ever was or can be of Duration. And now who doth not see how vain, how empty, and how uncertain Titles of Nobility are? which if referred to Renown, they are wholly foreign to it: For Nobility seems to be that Fame and Praise which proceedeth from the Merits of Ancestors. Now if Praise can give Nobility, they necessa­rily are noble who are praised. Then it follows thou canst derive no Splendor from the Nobili­ty of another, if thou hast none of thine own. But if there be any Good and Advantage in No­bility, I think it is only this, that it serves to impose a kind of Necessity upon those who pos­sess it, of not degenerating from the Vertues of their Progenitors.

PROSA VII.

WHY should I here discourse of the Plea­sures of the Body, the Desire of which is full of Anxiety, and the satisfying of them, of Repentance? What dangerous Diseases, what intolerable Pains, being like-Fruits of Iniquity, do they bring to the Bodies of those who enjoy them? and what Joys are to be found in the Motions of them, I confess I know not. But this I know, that whoever will call to mind his Luxury and Lusts, shall find much Bitterness in the Issue of them. If these things can make Men happy, I see no Cause why Beasts also may [Page 119] not be said to be in a possibility of obtaining Happiness, since by their Instinct they are urged to intend and pursue bodily Delights. The Sa­tisfaction of having a Wife and Children were great, but it hath been said, though against Nature, that some in their Children have found Tormentors: How biting and uneasy the Con­dition of such is, it is not necessary to tell thee, who hast before this tried it, and who art now under so great a Discomposure. In this I ap­prove the Opinion of ^(y) Euripides, who said, that he who hath no Children is happy in his Misfortune.

PROSA VIII.

FROM what I have said then it may with­out doubt appear, that all these mentioned Ways are wrong and deceitful, and cannot lead Men to that Happiness which they promise: And with how many Evils and Inconveniences they are perplexed, I shall soon shew thee. Con­sider then thus; Hast thou a mind to amass Wealth? then thou must bereave the Possessor of it. Wouldst thou shine in Dignities and Titles? thou must supplicate him who is the Fountain of them, and who only can confer them; and so thou who desirest to out-go others in Honour, shall by meanly asking it be­come contemptible. Dost thou affect Power? thou wilt expose thy self to Danger, by sub­jecting thy self to the Traps and Snares of those who are under thee. Art thou desirous of Glo­ry? being distracted by sharp and severe Dis­pensations, thou shalt forgo thy Security and Quiet. Wouldst thou lead a voluptuous Life? think then that all Men will scorn and contemn him who is a Slave to that vile and frail thing, his Body. And now upon how weak a Foun­dation do they build, upon how uncertain a Possession do they rely, who value and affect corporal Delights? Canst thou surpass the Ele­phant [Page 121] in Bulk, or the Oxe in Strength? Canst thou excel the Tigers in Swiftness? Behold the vast Space and Extention of the Heavens, their Firmness, and the Swiftness of their Motions, and then at length cease to admire vile or less things. Nor is the Heaven more to be admired for these Qualities mentioned, than for those ex­act Orders and Methods by which it is govern­ed. How fleeting, and of how short Duration is Beauty and Exactness of Feature, how swift­ly it passeth, fading sooner than a vernal Flow­er! For as Aristotle saith, if a Man had the Eyes of a ^(z) Lynx, that so he might pierce through every Medium which should oppose him, would not he, if he looked into the in­ward Recesses of the Body of ^(a) Alcibiades, whose outward Form was so fair and charm­ing, find it noisom and foul? And therefore thy Nature doth not make thee appear beauti­ful, [Page 122] but the Infirmity of the Eyes of thy Be­holders. Esteem bodily Goods as much as thou wilt, but consider, that what thou so much ad­mirest may in three Days be shaken and dis­solved by the raging Fires of a Fever. From all which we may gather this, that those things which cannot confer those Goods which they promise, nor are perfect and consummate by a general Meeting of all Goods in themselves, can neither always conduct to Happiness, nor by themselves make any one happy.

PROSA IX.

LET it suffice that I have hitherto described the Form of counterfeit Happiness: So that if thou considerest well, my Method will lead me to give to thee a perfect Draught of the true.

I now see plainly that Men cannot arrive at a full Satisfaction by Riches, nor at Power by enjoying Principalities or Kingdoms, nor at Esteem and Reverence by the Accession of Dignities, nor at Nobility by Glory, nor at true Joy by carnal Pleasures.

Thou sayest well, but knowest thou the Causes of all these?

I perceive them by the small Light I can af­ford to my self, but I should be very glad to know them more fully from thee.

The Reason is most obvious, for humane Error doth separate and divide that which is simple, and by Nature indivisible, and doth transport it from that which is true and perfect to their contrary. Let me ask thee, can that, dost thou think, which needeth nothing want Power?

No, I am not of that Opinion.

Thou thinkest right indeed; for if there be any thing which, upon any occasion of Performance, doth shew a Weakness or want of Power, it must, as to that, necessarily need foreign Aid.

So it is.

And therefore Sufficiency and Pow­er are of one Nature.

So it truly seems.

And thinkest thou that things of this kind are to be undervalued and contemn'd, or rather to be reverenced of all?

They are doubt­less worthy of Reverence.

Let us then add to Sufficiency and Power Reverence, and so then judg of these three as one.

Let us join them then, because the Truth must be con­fess'd.

What dost thou think then? Is that an obscure and ignoble thing which is grac'd with these three great Attributes of Self-sufficiency, Power and Reverence, or other­ways is it noble and worthy of Fame? Consi­der then, as we have granted before, that he who wants Gifts of Fortune; who is most pow­erful, and most worthy of Renown, if he, I say, want Fame, which he cannot give to him­self, he may on that hand, in some measure, seem more weak and abject.

I cannot in­deed deny it, but aver as it is, that Renown at­tends the aforesaid things.

Then by con­sequence Renown differs nothing from the three above-mention'd Attributes.

I grant it.

Must not then that thing which wants not the Help of another, which can by its own Strength perform every thing which is famous and reverend, of necessity be joyful also, and always pleasant?

I cannot indeed well com­prehend how any Grief or Trouble can possess the Breast of one in those Circumstances.

Then we may well grant that such are al­ways [Page 126] in a State of Joy, if what I have said be true. And then may we also grant Self-suffi­ciency, Power, Nobility, Reverence and Plea­sure, do differ only in Name, but not in Essence or Substance.

It is necessarily so.

Then therefore that which is one simple Nature is torn violently asunder by the Pravity of Men; and whilst they endeavour for a part of a thing which wants Parts, they neither get that Part, nor the entire thing which they so much desire.

How can that be?

Why thus; He who in amassing Riches proposeth only to him­self the end of avoiding Poverty, is no way so­licitous to obtain Power; he had rather be un­known and obscure, and chuseth rather to withdraw from himself many natural Pleasures, than run the hazard of losing that Money which he hath gathered. But surely such an one by this means doth not purchase Self-suffici­ency, when he loseth Power, when he is prick'd with Trouble, when his sordid Ways make him be looked upon as an Out-cast, when he is hidden in Obscurity. If we come to the Person who only aims at Power, he squanders away Riches, he despiseth Pleasures, he slights Honour which is not accompanied with Power, and contemns Glory. So then thou seest how many things that Man wanteth. For often he must stand in need of Necessaries, he must be subject to great Anxieties; and when he can­not [Page 127] drive away these things, he shews clearly his want of that which he did most affect, I mean Power. One may also reason thus of Honours, of Glory, and of Pleasures. For whilst every one of these is the same with the rest, whoever endeavours to obtain any of these without the other, loseth that which he desireth.

What then if a Man should desire to gain all these things together?

I would then say, that he hath a mind to arrive at the sovereign Good; but can it be thought that it shall ever be found in these Acquisitions, which I have shewed already, not to be able to perform any thing they promise?

No sure­ly.

In these things therefore which are believed able to satisfy our Desires, we must by no means seek for Happiness.

I confess it, and nothing can be said more truly than this.

Thou hast now then the Form and Causes of that adulterate sophisticate Felicity: now turn again the Eyes of thy Consideration upon the contrary Prospect, and thou shalt soon com­prehend that true and genuine Happiness which I so long have promised thee.

That a blind Man may see, and who runs may read it, for thou shewedst it to me before, when thou didst endeavour to open to me the Causes of its Coun­terfeit: for if I be not mistaken, that is the true consummate Felicity which makes a Man self-sufficient, powerful, reverenced, noble and plea­sant. And that thou mayst know that thy Say­ings [Page 128] have sunk deep into my Understanding, I say, I know that that which one of these (for they are all one) can truly perform is, without doubt, the chief Good and true Happiness.

O my Pupil, thou art most happy in this Opinion, provided thou wilt add this to it, which I shall offer to thee.

What is that?

Thinkest thou that any thing on this side Heaven can confer that Good of which thou speakest.

I think not indeed; and thou hast already shewed me, that nothing can be desi­red beyond such a State of Perfection.

These things then above-mentioned either confer the Likeness of the true Good, or else they seem to give me some imperfect Good; but the true and perfect one this can by no means afford.

I a­gree with you.

Seeing then thou knowest already which is the true Happiness, and which the false one, it remains thou shouldst be inform­ed from what Fountain to derive that true one.

That I indeed expect with much Impatience.

But as Plato says in his ^(d) Timaeus, that [Page 129] even in the least things the Divine Assistance ought to be implored, what dost thou think is fit to be done, that we may deserve to find the true Source and Seat of the sovereign Good?

I think we ought to invoke the Father and Governour of all things, for with­out such an Invocation no Work is well be­gun.

Thou sayest right. And then she warbled out this Divine Orison.

PROSA X.

NOW that thou hast had the Character of the true, and also of the false Felicity truly represented to thee, I think it time to shew thee in what the Perfection of Happiness is placed. And whilst we are in quest of this, I think our best Method will be to examine, whether there can in Nature be such a Good as that which thou hast before defin'd, lest the Vanity of Imagination, and Heat of Thought, should deceive us, and carry us beyond the Truth of the Matter subjected to our Inquiry. But that such a thing doth exist, and that it is as [Page 134] it were the Fountain of all Good, cannot be de­nied; for every thing which is said to be im­perfect is proved to be so by the Diminution of that which is perfect. Hence it is that if any thing in any kind be said to be imperfect, it is presently understood that in it there is also some­thing perfect. For if Perfection be taken a­way, no Man can tell in what that which is said to be imperfect can exist. For Nature doth not derive her Origine from things diminished and inconsummate, but proceeding from an intire and absolute Substance, she extends her self in the remotest and most fruitless Beings. So that if, as before I have demonstrated, there be a certain imperfect Felicity, a fading Good, there must also be, without doubt, a solid and perfect one. It is most logically and truly con­cluded (said I). But where this doth reside (continued she) thus consider; That God the Governour of all things is good, is proved by the universal Opinion of all Men. For since nothing can be found out which is better than God, who will deny Him to be good, than whom nothing can be better? Reason then doth so clearly demonstrate that God is good, that at the same time it evinceth the sovereign Good to be in him. For if it were not so, he could not be the Ruler of all things; for there would be some Being excelling him, which would pos­sess the perfect Good, and in this World seem [Page 135] to excel him, and be antienter than he. We have already shewn that all perfect things excel those which are less perfect. Wherefore that we may not infinitely produce our Reasons, it must be confess'd that the great God is full of the greatest and most perfect Goodness. But we have already shewn that perfect Goodness is true Happiness. Therefore it necessarily fol­lows that true and consummate Happiness re­sides only in the great and most perfect God. This (returned I) I apprehend aright, nor can I by any means say against it. Then I pray thee (saith she) see how well and irrefragably thou canst prove what I have said, to wit, that God is wholly replenished with the sovereign Good. How shall I do that? (replied I). Dost thou presume (said she) that the Father of all things hath received this sovereign Good, with which he is proved to abound, from any thing without himself, or that he hath it so naturally that thou shouldst imagine that He possessing it, and Happiness possessed, are of different Sub­stances? If thou dost think that he received it from any foreign Hand, thou must imagine the Giver to be more excellent than the Receiver. But that God is the most excellent of all Beings, most worthily we confess, if we own then that the sovereign Good is in him by Nature; and yet we may conceive that it is not the same that he is, since we speak of God, who is the Prince [Page 136] of Nature, let him who can find out who it was that joined these so differing things. Last­ly, whatever doth essentially differ from any thing, it cannot be said to be that from which it is understood to differ. Therefore that which is in its Nature differing from the chief Good, cannot be said to be the Good it self: which to think of God would be most impious and pro­fane, since nothing can excel him in Goodness and Worth. Nothing that ever was can in its Nature be better than that from which it draw­eth its Beginnings. Wherefore that which is the Principle of all things must, as to its Sub­stance, with the truest reason be concluded to be the chief of Goods.

Most right.

But Happiness was before granted to be the chief of Goods.

So it was.

There­fore it must necessarily be confess'd that God is the very Happiness.

I cannot oppose the Reasons you have given, and I confess you have drawn a very right Conclusion from your Pre­mises.

Look then a little further, and see if this Truth can be proved more firmly thus, to wit, that there cannot be two sovereign Goods which differ in themselves: For it is clear, that of the Goods which differ, one can­not be what the other is; wherefore neither can be perfect when one wants the other. But it is evident, that that which is not perfect can­not be sovereign; therefore those which are the [Page 137] chief Goods can by no means be diverse in their Natures. But I have rightly concluded that Good and Happiness are the chief Good: where­fore the highest Divinity must certainly be the highest Happiness.

Nothing can be truer than this; nothing by the Course of Reasoning more firm; nor can any Conclusion be made more becoming of the Divine Majesty.

Up­on the whole Matter then, as Geometricians, after they have demonstrated their Propositions, are wont to infer and draw their [...] or Consequences, in the same manner shall I de­duce to thee something like a Corollary, thus: Because by the attaining of Beatitude Men are happy, and Beatitude is Divinity it self, by the attaining of Divinity it is manifest that Men are made happy. But as from Mens being endow­ed with the Vertue of Justice, they are deno­minated Just; and from that of Prudence they are pronounced Wise, so should they who are possessed of Divinity by parity of reason be esteemed Gods. Every happy Man then is a God; but by Nature there is only One, yet by suffering others to participate of the Divine Es­sence nothing hinders but there may be Many.

This truly is a very fair and most pretious, call it Deduction or Corollary, which you please.

But there can be nothing nobler than that which Reason commands us to sub­join to this.

What is that?

It is this, [Page 138] Since Happiness seems to comprehend in it ma­ny things, to consider whether they all, by the Variety of Parts conjoined, do constitute the Body of Happiness; or whether there may be any one amongst them which may compleat the Substance of it, and to which all the rest may be referr'd.

I could wish that thou wouldst open these things to me by recounting them.

Do not we account Happiness a Good?

Yes certainly, and the chiefest.

Add then that Good to all the aforesaid things, for that Happiness which is Self-sufficiency is also the Height of Power, of Reverence, of Nobi­lity, of Pleasure. What sayst thou then, are all these things, as Self-sufficiency, Power, and the rest, Members and constituting Parts of Happiness; or are they, as all other things are, to be referr'd to the Sovereign Good as their Source and Principle?

I well understand what thou dost aim to search for, but I desire to hear what thou dost propose.

Observe then the thing thus sifted and distinguished up­on. If all these things were Members of Hap­piness, they would differ amongst themselves; for it is of the Nature of differing Parts to com­pose one Body: But it is already demonstrated that all things are the same, therefore they are not Parts; for if so, even out of one of them Happiness might be composed, which is ab­surd.

This I doubt not; but I desire to [Page 139] hear that which remains.

It is clear that all other things are brought to be tried by Good as the Rule and Square: For Self-sufficiency is therefore desired, because it is thought to be Good: So also it may be said of Power, Esteem, Nobility, Pleasure. Good then is the Cause why all things are desired; for that which nei­ther in Reality nor Shew doth retain any thing of Good, is by no means to be desired: On the contrary, whatever by Nature is not good, if yet it seems to be so, is desired as if it really were so. Hence it is that Goodness, justly looked upon, is the Cause, the Sum, the Hinge from which all our Desires arise, in which they centre, and upon which they turn. That which is the Cause of our desiring any thing, seems it self most to be desired. For if any Man de­sires to ride abroad because of his Health, he doth not so much desire the Motion of Riding as the Effect of his Health. Since therefore all things are sought after for the sake of Good, they cannot be more desirable than Good it self. But we have before shewed that it is Happiness for which all these abovesaid things are desired, where it is clear that only Happiness is sought for. He then who considers this cannot deny that Good and Happiness are of one and the same Substance.

I see no Cause why any Man should dissent from your Opinion.

And we have shewed that God and Happiness are [Page 140] inseparably joined in Essence.

You have so done.

We may then securely conclude that the Nature and Substance of God resides in Good, and can be sought for no whe [...]e else.

PROSA XI.

I Assent, and am overcome by the Strength of thy Reasons.

At how great a rate wouldst thou value this Good, if thou didst rightly know it?

At an infi­nite rate; if at the same time I might attain to the Knowledg of God, who is the true Good.

That thou shalt do so, I shall make clear to thee by undeniable Reasons, if thou wilt but grant me those things which a little before I have laid down as Conclusions.

I grant [Page 142] them all.

Have not I made it clear that those things which are desired by most are not therefore true and perfect Goods, because they differ amongst themselves; and that when one is absent, the other cannot confer absolute Hap­piness? And then that they are the perfect Good when they are molded up into one Form, that is to say, when Self-sufficiency, Power, Vene­ration, Renown and Pleasure collectively meet. For if they be not one and the same thing, they have nothing to recommend them, or to make them to be numbred amongst desirable things?

I grant thou hast demonstrated these things, nor can they by any means be doubted of.

These things then when they are distinct not being Goods, and when they meet immedi­ately being made Goods, do not they owe their Beings of Good to Unity?

So it seems to me.

But wilt thou yield that every thing which is good, is so by the Participation of the sovereign Good, or not?

It is cer­tainly so.

Thou must then by the same Reason acknowledg Unity and Good to be the same thing: for the Substance of those things must be the same, whose Effects do not natu­rally differ.

I cannot deny it.

Know­est thou then that every Being doth so long en­dure and subsist as it is entire and knit together by Unity; but that as soon as it looses that Bond it is dissolv'd, and Privation follows?

How [Page 143] dost thou make out that?

Thus; As in Animals or sensitive Creatures it is plain, the Soul and Body being united and continuing to­gether, the Being then is called Animal, a living Creature: but so soon as this Unity is dissolved by the Separation of these, it immediately pe­risheth, ceasing to be what it was before. The Body also it self, which whilst it remains in one Form by the Conjunction of its Members, re­tains the Form and Resemblance of a Man; but if by dissevering and segregating the Parts that Oneness is distracted, it is no more what before it was. In the same manner, if we run through all other Beings, it will surely appear, that every thing, as long as it preserveth Unity doth subsist; and if that dies, the other must al­so die with it.

Though I consider never so long, yet I can see no other thing.

Is there then any thing, which inasmuch as it lives natu­rally, doth forgo its Desire of Subsisting, and affect Corruption and Annihilation?

If I consider those living Creatures which have any Power of willing or refusing, I do not in Na­ture find any thing, which without some fo­reign Impulse, or the Concurrence of outward Accidents, doth cast away its Intention and De­sire of subsisting, and willingly hasten to De­struction; for every Animal is endowed with that great Principle of Self-preservation, and pursues it, and doth eschew Mischief and [Page 144] Death. But if I, casting an Eye upon the Ve­getative World, consider Herbs and Trees, and other inanimate things, I confess I am under a doubt, and know not well what to think of them.

But even of these there is no Cause that thou shouldst doubt; for behold Herbs and Trees first choose a convenient Place to grow in, where their Nature, as much as it can, hin­ders them from withering and perishing soon; for some spring in the Fields, others upon Mountains, others rise in Lakes and Marshes, o­thers put forth amongst the Stones; some choose the most barren Sands for the Place of their Birth; and all these, if any Hand should en­deavour to transplant them to any other place, would forthwith wither. But Nature gives to every thing that which is agreeable to, and convenient for them, and endeavours that they should not perish before their time. Dost thou not know that all Herbs and Trees, as if their Mouths were fastned downward in the Earth, do draw up their Nourishment by the Root, and diffuse their Strength and Bark as through their Marrow? And also that the softest and most tender Matter, as the Pith or Marrow is, is always laid up in the most inward Cabinet, and covered by a strong Coat of Wood; and the uppermost Garment of Bark is opposed to the Storms and Weather, as being fitted best to endure them? And canst thou not here behold [Page 145] and admire the Diligence and Care of Nature, which propagates all things by a Multiplicity of Seeds, which all Men know are as a Foundation for a Building not to remain for a time, but as if it were for ever? And even those things which are thought to be inanimate, do not they by the same Reason desire that which properly belongs to them, and to preserve their Beings? For why should Levity carry the Flames up­ward, and Gravity make the Earth tend down­wards towards its Centre, but that these Places and Motions agree with their several Bodies? Furthermore, whatsoever is agreeable to the Nature of any thing, that preserves that thing, as that which hath an Abhorrency from it cor­rupts and destroys it. Now that which is hard, as a Stone, doth most tenaciously adhere together in all its Parts, and resists an easy Dissolution; but what things are liquid or flowing, as Air and Water, yield easily to those who would separate them, but soon again return and slide back to those things from which they were divided: but Fire doth utterly refuse any such Division. And now I do not treat of the voluntary Motions of a knowing and discerning Soul, but of natural Intention and Instinct. Thus we swallow our Meat without thinking of it, and draw our Breath in our Sleep without perceiving it: For the Love of Life is not derived to living Crea­tures from the Inclinations and Bent of their [Page 146] Souls, but only from the Principles of Nature; for the Will, often pushed on by urgent Causes, affects and imbraces that Death which Nature fears and abhors: And on the contrary, we see that the Works of Generation, by which alone the Race of Men is propagated, and which Nature always affects, often restrained by the Will. Therefore this Love which every thing beareth to it self, doth not proceed from the Motions of the Soul, but from the Intentions of Nature: For Providence hath given to all things created by it, this greatest Cause and Principle of Duration, to wit, a Desire of ex­isting as long as it can. Therefore doubt not but every Being hath a natural Appetite towards Living, and an Abhorrence of Dissolution.

I now confess that plainly, and without doubting, I see those things which before seem­ed uncertain to me.

I go on then; What­ever doth desire to subsist and endure, doth also desire Unity; for if this be taken away, its Es­sence is dissolved.

That is most true.

Then all things desire one thing.

I assent.

But I have before demonstrated that that one thing must be that which is good.

You have so.

All things therefore de­sire Good; which Good you may describe to be that which is desired of all.

Nothing is truer: For either all things must be reduced to nothing, and so being destitute of an Head, [Page 147] float and rove about without Governance and Order; or if there be any thing to which all things do tend, that must be the chief of all Goods.

I rejoice but too much, O my Pupil; for thou hast fixed in thy Mind the very middle and manifest Note of Truth: but this thing hath been discovered to thee, because a little before thou saidst thou wert ignorant of it.

What is that?

Thou didst not know what was the End of all things: And this is it which every one desires. And because we have from our former Arguments gathered, that Good is that which is the Subject of all Mens Desires, we must necessarily confess that Good is the End of all things.

PROSA XII.

I Now very much assent to Plato, since this second time thou hast brought these things to my remembrance. At first when my Memory was drowned by the contagious Conjunction of my Body with my Soul, and then when I afterwards lost it in those Pressures of Sorrow under which I laboured.

If thou wilt a little recollect what thou hast grant­ed above, thou wilt not be far from remem­bring that thing of which a little before thou didst confess thy Ignorance.

What thing was that?

It was, by what Power the U­niverse is governed.

I confess I did in that [Page 149] own my want of Knowledg; but although I have a Prospect of what thou wilt infer, yet I desire to hear it made more plain from thy Mouth.

A little time before thou didst think that there was no Reason to doubt but that this World was governed by God.

Nor do I think otherwise now, nor shall I ever think that it ought to be doubted; and I will briefly recount to you the Reasons which lead me to this Opinion. The differing and contrariant Parts of which this World is compos'd, had ne­ver been brought together into one beautiful Form, without the Assistance of a powerful Hand to join them: And even after such a Con­junction the disagreeing Qualities of their Na­tures had dissociated the Parts, and ruined the Fabrick, if the same conjoining Hand had not kept them together: For the Order and Me­thods of Nature could not so certainly proceed, nor produce so regular Motions, disposed and limited according to Times, Places, Actings, Spaces, and Qualities, unless there were one remaining, fix'd and immovable Being to mes­nage so great Varieties of Change. I give this excellent Being, whatever it is, by which all things created endure, and are actuated and in­formed, the known Denomination of God.

Seeing that thou hast so right a Sentiment of these things, there is but little more to be done now that thou mayst once more be happy [Page 150] and safe, and that thou mayst revisit thy own Countrey: But let us reflect a little upon what we have before proposed. Have not we agreed that Sufficiency is of the Nature of true Happiness? And have we not granted that God is that true Happiness?

We have.

And that towards the Government of this World he shall need no Helps or foreign Instruments? for if he should, he should not then be self-suffici­ent.

That necessarily follows.

There­fore by himself alone he disposeth of all things.

It cannot be denied.

And I have shew­ed that God is the real Good.

I remem­ber it well.

By that Good then doth he order every thing, because he governs all things by himself, whom we have granted to be the Sovereign Good; and he is that great and cer­tain Rule and Method of Government which keeps the Machine of the World together, gi­ving it Stability, and preserving it from Cor­ruption.

I entirely agree to this, and I did foresee before that this was it which thou wert about to say.

I believe it; and now I be­lieve thy Eyes are more intent upon these great Truths. But what I shall say is not less open to thy View.

What is that.

Since God is rightly believed to govern all things by his Goodness, and all those things, as I have be­fore taught, to hasten by a natural Bent and In­tention towards Good, can it be doubted but [Page 151] that they voluntarily submit to his Govern­ment, and that of their own Accord they wil­lingly comply with, and yield up themselves to him their Ruler?

That must necessarily be, otherwise the Government could not subsist: if People were suffered to draw different ways, there would be no Safety for those who obey.

Is there any Being then, which follows the Dictates of Nature, that endeavours to go con­trary to the Laws of God?

No surely.

But if there should be so prepostrous an one, shall it ever be able to prevail against him, whom by the Right of true Happiness we have granted to be most powerful?

If there were such an one, certainly it could never prevail.

Then there is nothing that either will or can resist this Sovereign Good.

I think in­deed there is nothing.

It is then the Sove­reign Good which ruleth all things powerfully, and disposeth them softly and harmoniously.

How am I delighted not only with this Sum and Conclusion of thy Reasons and Argu­ments, but much more also with thy very Words! so that at length those wicked People who impiously have reprehended the Govern­ment of God, may blush and be ashamed of their Folly.

Thou hast read, amongst the Mythologists, the Story of the Giants who stormed Heaven; but the Divine Arms, ac­cording to their Demerits, repell'd and pu­nished [Page 152] them: But wilt thou now that we com­mit and compare our Reasons together? Per­haps by so doing some clear Spark of Truth may break out.

Do as it pleaseth thee.

No Body then will doubt but that God is Omnipotent.

No Man in his Senses doubt­eth of that.

And that there is nothing which he who is Almighty cannot do.

No­thing surely.

Can God then do Evil?

No.

Is Evil nothing? since he can­not do it who can do all things.

Dost thou play with me, leading me by thy Reasons into an inextricable Labyrinth, which sometimes thou entrest where thou goest out, and some­times thou goest out where thou entrest? Dost thou endeavour then to amuse me by thy intri­cate Reasonings, enclosing me in a wonderful Circle of Divine Simplicity? For a little be­fore, beginning at Happiness, thou didst de­clare it to be the Sovereign Good, and that it did reside in God; then that God himself was that Good, and the Fulness of Happiness: And hence thou didst infer, and give to me as a Mark of thy Bounty, that no Body could be happy, unless he were God. Again thou saidst, that the very Form of Good was the Substance of God and Happiness; and didst teach that that was the only genuine Good which was de­sired by all things in Nature. Thou further didst argue and demonstrate, that God by his [Page 153] Goodness did govern the World, and that all things willingly obeyed him, and that Evil had not any Nature and Existence which might be properly so called: and these things thou didst explain by no strained or far-fetch'd Reasons, but by strong and natural Truths, one thing still confirming and verifying another.

I have not deluded thee, for by the Assistance of God, for which we lately prayed, we have run through our chief Work: For such is the Nature and Form of the Divine Substance, that it neither communicates it self to foreign things, nor receives such into its own Nature; but, as Parmenides saith of it,

He rolleth the moving Globe of the World, whilst himself remains immovable: And if I have not drawn my Reasons from things with­out, but those within the Compass of my Sub­ject, wonder not at it; for as Plato before hath taught us, there ought to be a Consonancy and Alliance betwixt the Word and Matter which we handle.

PROSA I.

WHen Philosophy, preserving the Dig­nity and the Gravity of her Coun­tenance, had in soft and sweet Strains sung these things, I not having wholly forgot my Grief, and the Distemper of my Mind remaining, did thus interrupt her, being now ready to have continued her Discourse. Those things, O thou Fore-runner and Giver of the true Light! which thou hast hitherto deli­vered, are evidently clear and unanswerable, as well from that Divine Testimony which they bear about them, as from thy irrefragable Reasons: and although I had forgotten them, through the Prevalency of Grief for the many Injuries which I have endured, yet, as thou hast said, I was not wholly ignorant of them: But this one thing, I must own, is the greatest Cause of my Sorrow, to wit, that whilst there is one good Ruler of all things, there should be any Evil at all, or at the least, that it should pass unpunished. And how worthy this is of Admiration thou mayst consider. To this also another greater Mischief is adjoined: For whilst Impiety doth bear Command and flourish, Vertue doth not only want its Re­ward, but is also trampled upon by wicked [Page 160] Men, and bears the Punishment due to its Ene­my. No Man therefore can enough wonder and complain that Affairs should move so un­der the Governance of a God all-knowing, al­mighty, and willing nothing but what is the best. And it would indeed, returned she, be a thing not only of infinite Wonder, but also horribly monstrous, if in the well-regulated Fa­mily of so great a Master, the worthless Ves­sels, as thou imaginest, should be honoured, and the more pretious ones be despised: But thou art mistaken, it is not truly so: For if these Conclusions which I have drawn be a lit­tle reserved entire, thou shalt well know by the Authority of God, of whose Reign and Government I now speak, that the Good are always powerful and mighty, the evil Men ever Cast-aways and weak; that Vice never passeth without its Punishment, nor Vertue without its Rewards; that Happiness always attends good Men, and Misfortunes the wick­ed. These and many other things of this kind shall be proved to thee, which may put an end to thy Complaints, and strengthen thee with all Firmness and Solidity. And because I have lately shewn to thee, with a full Face, the Fi­gure of true Happiness, and also in what it is placed, and all things being run through which I think necessary to be premised, I shall now chalk out to thee that direct way which will [Page 161] lead thee again to thy own Habitation. I will also affix Wings to thy Mind, by which it may raise it self on high, that so all Trouble being done away, and all Obstacles remov'd, thou mayst by my Direction, by my Way, by my Conveniences of travelling, return safe into thy own Country.

PROSA II.

O Wonderfull thou promisest great things indeed! nor do I doubt but thou canst perform them: therefore I intreat thee, without delay, to satisfy my Expectati­on.

First then thou shalt know that ver­tuous Men are always armed with Power, and that the wicked are always destitute of Strength; and these Assertions do mutually de­monstrate each other: For since Good and E­vil are contrary, if Good be powerful, Evil must be weak and frail; and if thou knowest the Frailness of Evil, the Firmness of Good must also be known to thee. But that the Credit and Truth of my Opinion may appear more abundantly, I will proceed in both ways, confirming what is proposed now on this, now on that part. There are two Poles upon which all humane Actions do turn, that is to say, the Will and Power; if either of these be absent, nothing can be done: For the Will being want­ing, [Page 164] no Man attempts to do that which he will not do; and if Power faileth, the Will is of no Effect. Hence it is, that if thou seest any Man desirous to obtain that which he doth not com­pass, thou needst not doubt but he wanted the Power of obtaining that which he would have.

That's clear, nor can it be denied.

Whom then thou seest do that which he had a mind to do, canst thou doubt that he had a Power to do it?

No surely.

And in that a Man is able to do a thing, Men esteem him mighty; and in that he is not able, he is looked upon as weak.

I confess it.

Dost thou remember then that it was collected from former Reasons; that every Intention of Man's Will, however actuated by different Studies, doth hasten towards Happiness?

I remem­ber well that that was demonstrated.

Canst thou call to mind that it hath been shewed, that Happiness is the Sovereign Good, and that when Happiness is sought for, Good is desired of all?

I need not call it to mind, because it is al­ways fixed in my Memory.

All Men then, the good as well as the bad, with one and the same Intention, endeavour to arrive at Good.

It naturally follows.

And it is certain when Men have obtained Good, they are made good.

It is most certain.

Do good Men obtain then what they desire?

It seems so.

But if evil Men obtain [Page 165] the Good which they desire, they may not still be evil?

So it is.

Since therefore then both Parties are in quest of Good, but these only obtain it and the other lose it, it is not at all to be doubted but that good Men are powerful, and the wicked weak and feeble.

Whoever doubts of this, does neither rightly consider the Nature of things, nor understand the Consequences of Reasoning.

Again, if there be two, who, according to Nature, propose to themselves the same thing, and one of them acts naturally, and performs his Intention, but the other cannot administer the natural Office, but imitates him by another Method than what is agreeable to Nature, who did accomplish his Purpose, yet this Man doth not attain his End; which of these dost thou judg to be most powerful?

Although I guess at what thou sayst, yet I desire thou wouldst further explain thy self.

Thou wilt not deny but the Motion of Walking is natural to Men?

No, I cannot.

And thou doubtest not, but to perform this Motion is the natural Office of the Feet?

Nor will I deny it.

If then he who is able to use his Feet walks, and if another to whom this natural Office of the Feet is wanting, creeping upon his Hands, doth endeavour to walk, which of these, by right, ought to be esteemed more able?

Proceed with what remains; for no [Page 166] one doubteth but he who is able to move natu­rally upon his Feet, is more powerful than he who cannot.

But the Sovereign Good, which even the Vertuous and Impious propose to themselves as their End, by the one Party is sought by the natural means of Vertue, whilst the other endeavours after it by various and dif­fering Desires of earthly things, which is not the natural way of obtaining it; dost thou think otherwise?

No; for the Consequence is plain, and it appears out of that which before I granted, which was, that the Good were en­dowed with Power and Might, and that the evil Men were destitute of it.

Thou dost rightly run before me; and it is a good Sign, as Physicians observe, when Nature exerts her self, and resists the Malady. But because I perceive thou art quick of Apprehension, and ready to understand, I shall continue to thee my Reasons: Behold then how plainly the In­firmity and Weakness of vitious Men lies open, who cannot even attain to that to which their natural Intention leads them, and which it al­most compels them to seek. And what dost thou think would become of these Men, if they were deserted by this almost unconquera­ble Bent and Help of Nature, which always goes before them? Consider with thy self how great the Impotence of wicked Men is: Nor are they slight and empty things to which they [Page 167] aspire, and which they have not Power to ob­tain: But they attempt the chief and highest of all things, and there they fail; nor can bring that to effect after which they by Day and Night endeavour; and in the obtaining of which the Might of the Vertuous is eminent. For as thou mayst deem him a good Walker, who hath been able to go so far on his Feet, that no way doth lie beyond the Place at which he is arrived; so must thou necessarily judg him to be most mighty, who hath attained that thing beyond which nothing is to be desired. True then it is, that wicked Men are wholly destitute of those Powers which the Good am­ply possess: For why do they leave Vertue and pursue Vice? Is it because they know not Good? But what is more weak and base than the Blindness of Ignorance? or are they per­haps acquainted with the way which they ought to follow? But Lust, or some inordinate Desires do lead them aside; so doth also Intem­perance to weak Natures, which cannot resist Vice. But do they knowingly and willingly desert Good, and turn to Evil? But this way they do not only cease to be mighty, but also even to be. For those who neglect the com­mon End of all Beings, do also leave off to be. Which thing perhaps to some may seem won­derful, that the Vitious, who make up the most numerous Part of Mankind, should not [Page 168] be Men; but it is most truly so. And thus it is. I do not deny but that the Wicked are wicked; but that they have any Being, pure­ly and simply, I deny: For as thou mayst call a Carcase a dead Man, but simply thou canst not call it a Man; so will I grant that the Viti­ous are vitious Men, but absolutely that they exist I cannot confess. That thing is or hath a Being which observeth its Order, and retains its Nature; but that which faileth in this, deserteth its natural Being. But thou mayst say, that even the Wicked have a Power to act: Nor will I deny it; but this their Power is not de­rived from Strength but Weakness. They can do Evil, 'tis true, but they could not do that if they persevered in doing Good; which Possi­bility doth clearly demonstrate that they can do nothing: For if, as we have before gather­ed, Evil be nothing, it is clear that whilst fla­gitious Men can only do ill, they can do no­thing. And that thou mayst understand what is the Bent and Force of this Power, we have before determined that nothing is more power­ful than the Sovereign Good.

That's true.

And that Sovereign Good can do no ill.

It can do none.

Is there then any one who thinks that Men can do all things?

No Man surely who is not mad.

But they may do Evil.

I wish they could not.

Then since he who can only do Good, can [Page 169] do all things, and those who are powerful to do Evil cannot do all things, it is most evident that those who do Evil are less powerful. And yet it further assists me towards the proving of what I have shewed, that all Power is to be reckoned amongst things to be desired; and that all things are to be referr'd to the chief Good, as the Height and Eminency of their Nature: But the Power of committing Wick­edness cannot be referred to that Good; there­fore it is not desirable: but all Power is desira­ble. It is therefore clear that the Power of do­ing Evil is not Power. Upon the whole Mat­ter, from hence the Power of good Men, and the undoubted Weakness of evil Men may well appear. Hence also is the Opinion of Plato verified, That only wise Men can at­tain to that which they desire, whilst the Wicked, let them endeavour what they will, can never accomplish what they desire to them­selves, that is, to aim at Happiness; for they do what they list, whilst by those Actions in which they delight, they think they shall ob­tain the Good which they desire; but they can never be Possessors of it, for Impiety can never be crown'd with Happiness.

PROSA III.

DOST thou see then in what a Pud­dle of Filth Impiety doth wallow, and with what Rays of Light Goodness doth shine out? By which it is clear, that good Men [Page 171] never go without a Reward, and evil Men without Punishment; for that which causes any thing to be undertaken and done, may just­ly be said to be the Reward of that thing which is done; as the Crown which is won is the Reward of him who runs in the Race for it. But we have already shewn that Happi­ness is that Good for which all Matters are un­dertaken. Therefore Happiness is the Reward propos'd to all humane Actions; and of this the Vertuous can by no means be deprived, nor can any Man by right be called Good who wanteth Goodness; therefore Vertue can never want its Reward. But however evil Men may be unquiet or rage, yet the Crown shall never fall from the Head of the wise Man, nor wi­ther upon it. Nor can the Impiety of another Man bereave a worthy Soul of its Honour: But if a Man be carried away by the Enjoy­ment of any foreign Good, he may be deprived even of this, either by him who gave it to him, or by any other. But because every Man's proper Good procureth to him his Reward, whosoever ceaseth to be good loseth that Re­ward. Lastly, since a Reward is desired, be­cause it is supposed to be a Good, who will judg him who is capable of Good to be uncapable of a Reward? But thou wilt say, of what Re­ward is he worthy? Of the fairest, certainly, and most considerable. Call to mind that re­markable [Page 172] Corollary, which a little before ga­thered, I gave to thee, and consider thus: Since the Sovereign Good is Happiness, it ap­pears that all good Men, in that they are good, become happy; and those who are good, are as it were Gods. Therefore is the Reward of vertuous Men such, that no time shall impair it, no Power diminish it, nor any Impiety darken it. Since these things then are thus, a wise Man cannot at all doubt of the Punish­ment which inseparably attends wicked Men: For since Good and Evil are Contraries, so are Rewards and Punishments: therefore as we see that Rewards follow good Actions, there must necessarily also, on the other hand, be the Pu­nishment for Evil. Then as Vertue it self is a Reward to vertuous Men, so Vice is a Punish­ment to the Wicked: whoever then is punished with Pain and Uneasiness, it is not to be doubt­ed is affected with Evil. If therefore they will rightly weigh themselves, can they seem to be free from Punishments, whom Wickedness, the most extreme Evil, doth not only affect, but even vehemently infect? But now behold, on the other hand, what Punishment attends evil Doers; for thou hast learnt a little before, that every Being is one, and that that one is Good. Hence it follows, that every thing which is, or hath a Being, seems to be good: Whatso­ever then fails to be good, fails to be: So that [Page 173] it appears that evil Men cease to be what they were; but the remaining Form of the Body shews that these evil Men were before how­ever Men; wherefore when they lose their Vertue, they also lose their humane Nature. But since only Vertue can carry Men above the common Pitch of Humanity, it is sure that those whom Vice hath deposed from the common Condition of Mankind, it must also throw be­low the Merit of Men. Then it happens that you cannot esteem him to be a Man, whom you see thus transform'd by his Vices. Doth the violent Oppressor, and the Ravisher of other Mens Goods, burn with Avarice? Thou mayst say that he resembles the Wolf. Is he fierce; and doth he give himself over to Controversies and Chiding? Thou mayst compare him to the Dog. Is he treacherous, and one who delights to deceive? He is then like the young Foxes. Is he intemperate in his Anger? He seems to carry about with him the Fury of the Lion. Is he timorous and fearful of what ought not to be fear'd? He is like the Hart. Is he light, and doth he inconstantly change his Purposes? He differs nothing from the Birds of the Air. Doth he wallow in filthy and unclean Lusts? He rolls himself in the Mire like the nasty Sow. So that whosoever leaves off to be vertuous, ceases to be a Man; and since he cannot attain to a Divine Nature, he is turn'd into a Beast.

PROSA IV.

I Confess that vitious Men are not un­justly called Beasts, for although they retain the Form and Shapes of an humane Bo­dy, yet the Qualities of their Souls shew them to be changed into them. But I would not have it in the Power of those vitious Per­sons, who even rage with a Desire of destroy­ing just Men, to do so.

Nor is it in their Power, as shall be shewed in a convenient Place; but if this Power which People think ill Men to have, were taken away from them they would be eased of the greatest part of their Punishment: For it would almost seem incredible to any one, and it is yet true, that evil Men must necessarily be more unhappy when they have compassed what they desire, than when they cannot do so: For if it be a miserable thing but to have a Will to do an ill thing, it must be much worse to have a Power to do it, without which the wretched Desire [Page 178] would languish without effect. Since then each of these things hath its Unhappiness, it must of necessity be, that a threefold Misfor­tune must urge those Men who both will, can, and do commit Wickedness.

I grant it, but I should much desire that evil Men were soon depriv'd of this Misfortune, I mean of the Power of doing ill.

They shall be dis­poil'd of it sooner than perhaps thou wouldst have them, or than they think they shall: For there is nothing of so late a Beginning within the narrow Bounds of this Life, that can conti­nue long, or expect Immutability; and the great Hopes and subtle Machinations of ill Men are by a sudden and unforeseen End ruinated and destroyed; which thing puts an End to their Wickedness. For if Vice subjects Men to Misery, the longer they are vitious, the longer they must be miserable; whom I should judg the most unhappy of all Beings, if their Unhappiness were not ended at least by Death: For if I have made a true Conclusion concern­ing the Misfortune which attends Impiety, that Misery must be without end which certainly is Eternal.

This is a most wonderful Con­sequence, and difficult to be granted; yet I must acknowledg it doth but too much agree with those things which we have concluded before.

Thou dost rightly judg: but he who thinks it hard to assent to a Conclusion, it [Page 179] is fit he should demonstrate that the Premises are untrue, or that from the Collation of the Propositions a necessary Conclusion is not to be drawn; otherwise if the Premises be granted, he hath no Reason to blame the Inference from them: for this which I am now about to say will not seem less wonderful, but it necessarily follows from what hath been before proposed.

What is that?

That wicked Men are more happy when they are punished according to their Demerits, than if they should escape the Hand of Justice. Nor do I now offer to thee that which every Man can think, that the Manners of ill Men are corrected by Venge­ance, and that by fear of Torment they are re­duced to the right way, and that they are Ex­amples to other Men to fly from things which are blame worthy: but I, after another manner, believe these Wretches if they escape Punish­ment to be unhappy, although no Regard be had to the Correction and Example.

And what other manner is there besides those above-mentioned?

Have we not granted alrea­dy that the Good are happy, and the Impious miserable?

We have.

If then there be any Addition of Good to any Man's Misery, is not he happier than another, whose Misery is pure and simple, without the mixture of any manner of Good?

It seemeth so to be.

And if to the same miserable Person, who [Page 180] wants all manner of Goods to those Evils which have already made him miserable, another should be annexed, is not he to be esteemed much more unhappy than he whose Misfortune is relieved by the participation of Good?

What will follow then?

Evil Men then, even when they are punished, have something of Good annexed, to wit, the Pu­nishment it self, which, as it is the Effect of Justice, is good: And there is also annexed to the same Persons, when they go unpunished; something more of Ill, that is to say, Impunity it self, which before thou hast deservedly granted to be an Evil.

I cannot deny it.

Much more unhappy then are impi­ous Wretches when they meet with an unjust Impunity, than when they fall un­der a merited Vengeance. But it is manifest, that nothing can be more just than that evil Men should be punished, and unjust than that they should escape Punishment.

Who de­nies it?

Nor will any Man deny but that every thing which is just, is good; and on the other hand, whatsoever is unjust, is ill.

These are consequential to our former Conclusions: But I pray thee tell me, dost thou believe that there are any Punishments allotted to Souls af­ter the Death of the Bodies?

Great ones most certainly; some of which I believe to be exercised and applied by Sharpness of Pain, [Page 181] others by a kind of ^(k) Purga­tive Clemency: Purgatoria Clementia. But we will not at this time discourse of these. But our Business hitherto hath been, to let thee see that the Power which thou didst imagine to be most unworthily bestowed upon evil Men, is indeed none at all: And also that thou mightst be sa­tisfied that evil Men, who as thou didst com­plain went unpunished, do never indeed escape Punishment: And also that thou mightst learn that that Licence of doing Evil, which thou prayedst might soon end, is not long; and that the Enjoyers would be more unhappy if it were [Page 182] longer, and most wretched of all if it were perpetual. After this I shewed that ill Men are more unhappy if they be dismiss'd with an unjust Impunity, than if punish'd with a just Revenge. From which Opinion it follows, that then they are urg'd and afflicted with the greatest Punishments when they are believed to escape free.

When I consider intently thy Reasons, I think nothing can be said more truly. But if we look upon the Judgments of Men, who is there to whom these things seem not only not to be bel [...]eved, but also not to be heard?

So it is indeed: for they who have long been accustomed to Darkness can­not lift up their Eyes to the Light of perspi­cuous Truth without difficulty; and they re­semble those Birds which see well by Night, but are blind in the Day-time: For whilst they do not regard the Order of things, but only their own disordered Affections, they vainly imagine the Power of doing Evil, or Impunity after it is acted, to be an Happiness. But now, behold what the Law Eternal delivereth! Con­form thy Mind to the best things, and then thou shalt have no need of a Judg to confer up­on thee a Reward, since thou hast adjoined thy self to the most excellent things. But if thou art inclined to Impiety, and dost imbrace wick­ed Practices, seek for no Avenger without, for thou hast sorfeited thy Advantages, and asso­ciated [Page 183] thy self with the worst of things: as if thou shouldst by turns sometimes behold the Heavens, sometimes the sordid Earth; and that all other things ceasing from without, thy Eye should seem to carry thee now above the Stars, and that again thou shouldst be placed upon the Earth. But the Multitude doth not consider this. What then? Shall we put our selves into the Company of those which I have before shewed to resemble Beasts? What wilt thou say, if a Man who hath quite lost his Sight, and hath also forgotten that ever he saw, and should think that he wants nothing to render him perfect, should we therefore judg those who retain their Sight to be blind also? Either will the Many acquiesce in what I shall say, al­though it is supported by as firm Reasons, to wit, that those are more unhappy who do, than they who suffer Injuries.

I would wil­lingly hear those Reasons.

Canst thou deny but that all ill Men deserve Punishment?

No, I cannot.

But I am throughly satisfied that impious Men are many ways un­happy.

Certainly they are so.

Then thou doubtest not that those who deserve Pu­nishment are miserable.

I agree.

If therefore thou wert to be Judg, to which dost thou think thou wouldst adjudg Punishment, to him who hath done, or to him who hath suf­fered the Injury?

I doubt not but that I [Page 184] should adjudg Satisfaction to the Sufferer, by punishing the Doer of Wrong.

The in­juring Person then would seem more miserable to thee than him who had receiv'd the Wrong.

That follows.

From this then, and from several other Reasons founded on the same bottom, it appears, that Impiety, properly and by its own Nature, makes Men miserable; and that an Injury done to any Man is the Misery of the Doer, and not of the Sufferer. But now Orators and Advocates run a Course contrary to this: For they endeavour the Pity and Com­passion of the Judges for those who suffered any thing bitter or grievous, when the juster Pity is due to them who did the Wrong; who should be led to Judgment, as the Sick are to the Physician, not by angry but by merciful and compassionate Accusers; that so they may, by the Application of Punishment, as a fit and proper Remedy, be cured of the Malady of the Crime. By this means the Employment of this kind of Defenders would either wholly cease, or else, that it may be more to the Ad­vantage of Mankind, it would be turned into an Habit of Accusation, and would always be forward to accuse, and not to excuse ill Men: and even those Wretches themselves, if they could through the least Hole or Chink behold that Vertue which they have forsaken, and see that they should be in some way of cleansing [Page 185] themselves from their filthy Vices, by receiving the Pains and Torments which are due to them, they ought, for the Recompence of regaining the Vertue from which they have fallen, not to esteem them so, but should chearfully refuse the Defence of their Advocates, and give them­selves up wholly to their Accusers and Judges. Hence it is that the Wise hate no Body▪ For who but the most foolish would hate good Men? and it is irrational to hate the most pro­fligate: For if a depraved Temper be, as it were, the Sickness of the Soul, since we do not think those whose Bodies are distempered to be worthy of our Hate, but rather of our Compassion, much less are those over whom Vice, more cruel than any bodily Distemper, hath gain'd the Ascendant to be adjudged so, but are rather to be looked upon as Subjects of our Pity.

PROSA V.

HERE I plainly see what Happiness or Misery is placed in the Deserts of good and of evil Men. But in this same com­mon Estate of Fortune I perceive something both of Good and Evil: For no wise Man had rather be expos'd to Banishment, Poverty, and Ignominy, than excel in Riches, Honours, Pow­er, and continue in a flourishing Estate in his own Country. For in this the more clearly and openly the Duty of Wisdom doth appear, when the Happiness of the Governours is in some measure diffused, and communicated to Subjects; whilst Imprisonment, and all legal Punishments are only due to those pernicious [Page 187] and profligate Citizens, for whom they were at first instituted and appointed. Why then should things suffer so unnatural a Change? Why should Punishments due to Crimes, op­press the Good, and the Rewards of Vertue be born only by wicked and flagitious Men? These things I much wonder at, and I desire to learn from thee what may be the Reason of so unjust a Distribution. For my Wonder would be less, did I believe all things to be governed by Chance. But now even God, the Governour of all things, doth heighten my Astonishment, who whilst he doth often distribute good things to the Good, and evil things to the Wicked, yet doth sometimes give to the Vertuous an hard Portion, and to the impious Man he grants his Heart's Desire. What Difference then is there to be found, unless Men may be acquainted with the Cause betwixt his Proceedings and the Actings of Chance?

Nor is it at all to be admired if Men fancy something rash and con­fus'd in these Methods of Acting, if they are ignorant of the Reason of that Order by which God proceeds. But although thou art ignorant of the Cause of this great Disposal of things, yet because the good Governour of all things doth temper and inform the World, never doubt but that all things are done rightly and as they ought to be.

PROSA VI.

SO it is; but because it is thy Province to unfold the hidden Causes of things, and to lay open those Reasons which are now invelop'd in Darkness, I intreat thee to give me thy Judgment in this Matter, and to discourse upon it, for this Wonder troubles me very much. Philosophy then a little smiling, said to me, O thou call'st upon me to declare to thee the greatest thing which could be asked, and which indeed can scarce be answered: For such is the Matter of it, that one Doubt being re­moved, innumerable others, like the Heads of ^(p) Hydra, grow up. Nor would there indeed be any End of them, unless they were restrain­ed by the Quickness and lively Fire of the Mind: For in this Matter Men are wont to make Questions of the simple Actings of Pro­vidence, of the Order and Course of Destiny, of sudden Chance, of Knowledg, of Divine Pre­destination, and of Free-will: And of what Weight these things are, thou thy self mayst perceive. But because it is part of thy Medi­cine, [Page 191] and it will contribute much to thy Cure to know these things, although I am confined within the narrow Bounds of Time, I shall en­deavour to give thee some Taste of them. And although the Charms and Musick of my Verse may delight thee, yet thou must defer that Pleasure a little, whilst I in order weave toge­ther my Reasons, which may tend to the So­lution of thy Doubts.

Observe thy own Method as it pleaseth thee. Then taking her Beginning as from another Principle, she thus discoursed.

The Generation of all things, and every Progression of changeable Natures, and all things which are any way moved, re­ceive their Causes, Order and Forms out of the Stability or Constancy of the Divine Mind. And this being placed in the Height of its own Purity or Simplicity, doth establish a manifold Mode or Way in doing things; which Mode or Manner of Proceeding, when Men behold it in the Purity of the Divine Understanding, is called Providence; but being apply'd and re­ferr'd to that which it moveth, and of which it disposeth, it was called Fate or Destiny. And if any one shall throughly weigh in his Mind the Force and Energy of the one and of the other, he shall soon find them to be diffe­rent things: For Providence is that Divine Rea­son settled in the chief Governour of the World, by which he disposeth all things; but Fate or [Page 192] Destiny is a Disposition inherent in moveable Beings, by which Providence knits them toge­ther in their Orders. Providence embraces and comprehends all things, although divers, al­though infinite; but Fate orders and digests all single things into Motion, and distributeth them according to Place, Form and Time: So that the Explication of this temporal Order being joined or folded up, in regard to the Divine Mind, may be called Providence; and being unfolded and digested according to Time, and the other Circumstances, it may be called Fate. And although these things be different, yet one of them depends upon the other; for the Or­der of Fate proceeds from the pure Simplicity of Providence: For as the Artificer forming in his Mind the Shape of the thing which he is about to make, moves to effect his Work, and doth in process of time draw out that which before he had singly in his Imagination designed; so God by his Providence simply and firmly doth dispose the things which are to be done; and he doth in several Ways, and according to Time, administer by Fate those very things which he hath so disposed. So then, whether Fate be exercised and moved by some Divine Spirits which attend upon Providence, or by some Soul, or by the Ministry of the whole Body of Nature, or by the Celestial Motions of the Stars, or by Angelick Vertue, or by the ma­nifold [Page 193] Subtlety of Demons, whether good or bad, or if by any of these, or if by all of them the Series of Fate is woven: This certainly is manifest, that the immovable and simple way of doing things is Providence; and that the movable Contexture and temporal Order of those things which the Divine Purity fore-dis­posed and ordered to be done, is Fate. Hence it is that all things which are under the Domi­nion of Fate, are also subject to Providence, which commands even Fate it self. But some things which are placed under the Guidance and Protection of Providence, are wholly exempt from the Jurisdiction of Fate, and surmount the Series of it; and those are such things as are stably fixed near to the Divinity, and are above the Order of fatal Mobility. For even as a­mongst several Circles turning about the same Centre, that which is innermost approacheth most to the Simplicity of the middle Point, and is as it were a Centre, round which they may turn, to those placed without it; and that which is outermost, rolling in a greater Cir­cuit, the further it departs from the middle In­dividuity of the Point, so much the more Space it doth fill; but yet if any thing should join and fasten it self to the Point, it is constrained to be immovable, and ceaseth to be dilated. By pa­rity of Reason the further any thing departeth from the first Mind, that is from God, it is so [Page 194] much the more embarassed, and faster bound in the Bonds of Destiny; and every thing is by so much the freer from Fate, by how much it approacheth nearer to the Centre of all things. And if it closely adheres to the Firmness of the supreme Mind, without moving, it goes beyond the Necessity and Power of Destiny. As Ratiocination then is to the Intellect, as that which is begotten is to that which hath a proper Being, as Time is to Eternity, as the Circle is to the Centre; so is the movable Order of Fate to the stable Simplicity of Providence. This Order moveth the Heavens and the Stars, tem­pereth the Elements, and maketh them agree amongst themselves, and by an alternative Change transforms them. It reneweth all things which are born, and which die by the like Progressions of Sexes and Seeds. This binds together the Actions and Fortunes of Men by an indissoluble Connection of Causes; which, since they proceed from the Origine of immo­vable Providence, must also themselves necessa­rily be unchangeable: For so things are always best governed, if that pure Simplicity or Sin­gleness, dwelling in the Divine Nature, may produce that unalterable Order of Causes; for this Order, by its own Unchangeableness and Constancy, may restrain those things which in their Nature are mutable, and which would otherwise rashly and irregularly float about. [Page 195] Hence it is that although things may seem con­fused and disturbed to Men who cannot aright consider this Order, nevertheless the proper Manner and Course of every thing directs and disposeth it to the true Good: For there is no­thing done for the sake of Evil, no not by the most flagitious Wretches; who, as I have fully before demonstrated, are in their Researches after Good diverted by crooked Error, whilst the Order proceeding from the Centre of Sove­reign Good doth not mislead any from its Prin­ciples. But thou mayst say, what greater Con­fusion can there be, that both prosperous and adverse things should by times happen to good Men, and that evil Men can enjoy what their Hearts can desire, and yet be afflicted too with things which they hate? Do People live now a-days so vertuously, and with so much Inte­grity, that those whom Men think good or bad, must necessarily be either? But in this the Judgments of Men disagree much: For those whom some judg worthy of a Reward, others think to deserve Punishment. But let us grant, that it is possible that some one may be able to distinguish betwixt the Good and the Bad; Is it possible therefore that he should look into the inward Temperament of the Mind, and pro­nounce of it as one may of the Body? But it is miraculous to him who knows it not, why sweet things should be agreeable to some Bo­dies, [Page 196] and bitter to others; and why some sick People are eased by Lenitives, others are helped by sharper Medicines. But it is no wonder to the Physician, who knoweth the Measure and Temperament of Health and Sickness. But what other thing is it that makes the Mind healthful and strong than Goodness? And what is its Sickness but Vice? Who is the Preserver of Good, and the Driver away of Evil, other than God the great Ruler and Physician of the Mind? who, when he looks about him from the high Observatory of his Providence, sees and knows what is convenient for every one, and then accommodates him with the Conve­nience. Hence then proceeds that remarkable Miracle of the Order of Destiny, since the all-knowing God doth that at which the Ignorant are astonished. But now that I may glance at a few things concerning the Depth of the Di­vine Knowledg, which humane Reason may comprehend, that Man whom thou believest to be most just, and the greatest Observer and Maintainer of Equity, of that Man, I say, the all-knowing Providence doth think otherwise. And ^(q) my Familiar Lucan told us, that the vanquishing Cause was pleasing to the Gods, but the vanquish'd to Cato: Know this then, [Page 197] that whatsoever thou seest done contrary to thy Hope or Expectation, that notwithstanding the Order of things is preserved right and entire; but to thy perverted Opinion it seemeth Confu­sion. But let us suppose that a Man may have behaved himself so well, that the Approbation of God and Man may both agree in him; but he is perhaps of a weak Courage: so that if any thing cross should befal him, he will forgo his Innocence, since with it he cannot retain his Fortune. The wise Dispensation of Provi­dence then spareth him whom Adversity may make worse, lest he should be put to labour and travel, who is not able to undergo such Hard­ship, nor to bear Afflictions. Another Man is Master of all Vertues, is holy, and one who draws nigh to God: Providence judgeth it In­justice that that Man should be oppressed by any Adversity; so that it will not suffer him to labour even under any bodily Distemper: But as ^(r) one more excellent than I said, [...] ▪ Vertues do build up the Body of the Holy Man. But it often comes to pass that good Men have the Government of [Page 198] things committed to them, that the exuberant Improbity of ill Men may be repell'd and aba­ted. To some, according to the Qualities of their Minds, he gives a kind of Mixture of Fortune, chequered with Good and Evil: Up­on some he lays grievous heavy Crosses, lest they should grow luxurious by too long a Course of Felicity: Upon others he sometimes lays also heavy Crosses, that their Vertues may be confirmed by the Use and Exercise of Pati­ence: Some fear more than they ought that thing which they can bear: Others despise more than they ought that which they cannot; and those, that by the Experiment they may come to the Knowledg of themselves, he sometimes afflicts. And many there are who have pur­chas'd a great Name in the World, at the Ex­pence of a glorious Death. And some Men whose Courage hath not yielded to Torment, have given a noble Example to others, that Vertue is not to be overcome by Adversity. And there is no doubt but that all these things are done justly and in order, and for the Good of those to whom they happen. It also pro­ceeds from the said Causes that sometimes Ad­versity, sometimes Prosperity, comes to be the Lot of ill Men. And it is the Wonder of no Man, that flagitious Persons should be afflicted, because they are always thought to deserve what comes upon them; and that their [Page 199] Punishment doth deter others from such Aims, and often work a Reformation in those on whom they are inflicted: But the Prosperity of such yields a great Argument to the Good, and directs them what to judg of this kind of Hap­piness, which they so often see to fall to the share of the worst of Men. In which thing I think often there is a Dispensation, because the Nature of some Men may be so forward and importunate, that Poverty, and the want of Ne­cessaries, would rather urge them to do ill. But this Disease Providence doth cure by ap­plying the powerful Medicine of Money. One Man finding his Conscience deeply spotted with Crimes, and comparing himself and his For­tune, fears perhaps that the Happiness which he enjoyed by the Use of it, should be wholly done away by its Loss; he will therefore change his Manners, and whilst he fears to lose his Estate he will leave his Impiety. Upon another Happiness is conferr'd without Desert, and that precipitates him into a merited Destruction. To some there is a Power of Punishing granted, that it may exercise the Vertues of the Good, and may be Cause of Punishment and Torment to the Evil. For as there is no Covenant or Agreement betwixt the Vertuous and the Wicked, so neither can wretched Men agree amongst themselves. And why should they? for they disagree amongst themselves by reason [Page 200] of their Vices, which rend and tear the Con­science; and they often do those things, which when they are over, they judg they ought not to have done them. From whence Providence hath often produced a signal Miracle, to wit, that evil Men have oft made other ill Men good: For when some of these find that they have suffered an Injury from others of them, urged by the Hate of those that have offended them, they have returned to the Ways of Vertue, studying nothing more than to be un­like to those Persons whom they hate. It is on­ly the great Power of God which can make Evil turn to Good, when by using them agree­ably and conveniently he draws out of them the Effect of some Good: For a certain Order embraceth all Beings, so that whatsoever doth depart from the Reason and Laws of that Or­der which is assigned to it, yet it passeth into and under the Laws of another Order; for no­thing is left in the Power of Chance or Uncer­tainty in the Realm of Providence. [...]. It is hard for me to express how God rules and disposeth all things by his Providence. Nor is it lawful for a Man (if he could) to comprehend all the Machines and Movements of the Divine Work, even in his Thought, much less to declare and describe them in Words. Let it suffice to have seen on­ly this, that God, the Framer of all Natures, [Page 201] orders and disposeth every thing towards Good; and whilst he endeavours to retain those things which he hath made in his own Likeness, he banisheth all Evil by the Course of Destiny, without the Bounds of his Commonwealth. Hence it is that if thou dost but regard the all-disposing Providence, thou mayst easily see, that there are not those Evils which Men be­lieve do abound upon the Face of the Earth. But now I see that thou dost almost lie down under the Weight and Prolixity of my Rea­soning; and that thou dost expect the Musick of my Verse: receive then this Draught with which when thou art refresh'd, thou mayst more strong­ly proceed to other Matters which yet remain.

PROSA VII.

DOST thou not see now what fol­lows from all the things which I have spoken.

What is the Consequence?

That all Fortune is good.

And how, I prithee, can that be?

Observe then that since all Fortune is either prosperous or adverse, it is given either to reward or exercise the Good, or to punish or correct the Bad; and all For­tune is good which appears to be either just or profitable.

The Reason is most true, and if I consider the Doctrine either of Providence or Fate, which a little before thou taughtest me, thy Opinion is founded upon a firm Ground. But let us range it, if thou pleasest, amongst those Positions which, a little before, thou saidst were not commonly believed by the People.

Why so?

Because it is the common and frequent Phrase of Men, that the Fortune [Page 204] of such an one is bad.

Wilt thou then that I shall for a while draw nearer to the Peoples way of Discourse, lest we should seem too much to have receded from the Usages of Man­kind?

As thou pleasest.

Thinkest thou not then that every thing which is profi­table is good?

Yes surely.

But what­soever doth either exercise or correct is profita­ble.

I confess it.

Therefore 'tis good.

Why should it not?

But this is the Fortune of them who are either fixed in Vertue, and wage a constant War against Adversity, or of those who, abandoning Vice, take the way of Vertue.

I cannot deny it.

But what sayst thou of that pleasant Fortune which is given as a Reward to good Men, do the Many conceive it to be ill?

Certainly no, but ra­ther they believe it to be very good, as it is in­deed.

But what sayst thou of that other, which although it be sharp, and inflicts just Punishment upon the Wicked, do Men take it to be good?

No sure, but rather the most wretched and tormenting thing that can be thought upon.

Behold then, and mark well, if we, following the Opinion of the Peo­ple, have not concluded something which is ve­ry contrary to the common Opinion.

What is that?

It followeth clearly to the things before granted, that whatsoever the Fortune of all those who are either in possession of, or [Page 205] growing in Vertue, or otherwise in search after her, may be, it is good; but that the Fortune of those who live in Impiety and Sin must be the worst of any thing.

That is true, although no one dare confess it.

Why so, for the wise Man ought not to be cast down when he is brought into the Field to wage War with Fortune, no more than the valiant Man ought to be dismayed when he hears the Trumpet sound to Battel: For Difficulty and Hardship giveth the Occasion to one that he may encrease and propagate his Glory; and to the other, that he may confirm and improve his Wisdom. From hence is Vertue denominated, because leaning upon its own Strength, and confiding in its proper Force, it is not to be overcome by Adversity: Nor thou who art so far advanced in the Course of Vertue, art not to be carried away by Delights, and to wallow in Lust; thou must engage valiantly and fiercely against every Fortune. And lest Adversity should oppress thee, or Prosperity corrupt thee, possess thy self of the Golden Mean, and retain it with all thy Strength: For whatsoever is below, or goeth beyond that, implies a Contempt of true Hap­piness, and loseth the Reward of its Labour. It lieth in thy own Hand to choose what For­tune thou likest; for all Fortune which seemeth sharp and grievous, unless it exercise the Ver­tues of the Good, or chastise the Impiety of the Wicked, is a Punishment.

PROSA I.

THUS she had spoken, and turned her Discourse to handle and dispatch some other Matters; when I thus bespake her. Thy Exhortation is most just and right, [Page 212] and most worthy of thy Authority: But what thou but now sayst, to wit, that the Question concerning Providence was intangled with ma­ny others, I find by Experience to be true: Therefore I now ask, if Chance be any thing at all, and if it be, what thou takest it to be?

I hasten to pay the Debt of my Promise, and to open that way to thee which may lead thee back to thy Country. But although it may be very profitable, and much to thy Ad­vantage to know these things, yet they lead us out of our designed way: And it is to be feared that if thou shouldst be tired by pursuing these By-paths, that is, by discussing Questions fo­reign to our Subject, thou wouldst not be able to perform thy Journey in following the right Road.

Fear not that at all; for it will as much refresh me as Rest, to know those things in which I am most delighted, since there is no Reason to doubt of the things following, when every part of thy Disputation shall have been grounded upon undoubted Truth and Certain­ty.

I will then comply with thee: If any Man doth define Chance to be an Event pro­duced by a rash Motion, and without any con­nection of Causes, I then affirm that Chance is nothing, and I pronounce it to be an empty Word, without any signification of the subject Matter; for who can imagine, that God re­straining all things by Order, there should be [Page 213] any Place left for rash Folly and Disorder? For it is a great Truth, that nothing can spring out of nothing; which none of the Antients ever oppos'd, although they understood it not of God, the operating Principle, the chief Begin­ner, and Worker of all things; but they made a kind of a Foundation of a material Subject, that is, of the Nature of all Reason: But if any thing doth arise from no Causes, that will seem to spring out of nothing. But if this can­not be done, it is impossible that Chance should be any such thing as it is before defined.

What then is there nothing which may rightly be called Chance or Fortune? Or is there any thing, although concealed from the Vulgar, to which these Words may be applied?

My Aristotle, in his Physicks, gives this a brief Definition, and with a Reason near to Truth.

How I pray thee doth he define it?

So often as a Man doth any thing, for the sake of any other thing, and another thing than that he intended to do, is produced by other Causes, that thing so produced is called Chance: As if a Man break up the Earth upon the ac­count of Tillage, and find there Gold hidden, this is believed to happen by Chance, although it be not so: for it hath its proper Causes; the unforeseen and unexpected Concourse of which seemeth to have brought forth Chance: for if the Husband-man had not plowed his Field, [Page 214] and if the Hider of the Gold had not hid it in that Place, the Gold had not been found. These are therefore the Causes of a fortuitous Gain and Advantage, which proceed from a Conflux of encountring Causes, and not from the In­tention of the Doer: For neither he who hid the Gold, nor he who tilled the Field, intended or understood that that Treasure should be found there: But, as I said, it happened that the one did dig where the other had hid his Money; and so these Actions concurring, the mentioned Effect was produc'd. Therefore Chance may be defined to be an unthought-of Event of Causes flowing together in things which are done to attain some other end: But that Or­der which proceeds by an unavoidable Con­nection of things, streaming from the Fountain of Providence, and which ranks all things ac­cording to Place and Time, maketh all Causes assemble and meet together.

PROSA II.

I Understand this well, and I agree that what thou sayst is true: But is there, I pray thee, any Freedom allowed to our Wills in this long Train of cohering Causes, or doth the Chain of Destiny also bind the Motions of Mens Souls?

There is a Freedom of the Will, nor was there ever any rational Nature which was not accompanied with it: For that which naturally hath the Use of Reason, hath also a Judgment by which it may judg of, and discern every thing. Of it self then it knoweth what things are to be avoided, and what to be desired: Now that thing which a Man judgeth to be desirable he seeks, and he refuseth that which he deems ought to be avoided; therefore whoever is endowed with Reason is also pos­sessed [Page 217] of a Liberty of desiring and refusing. But I do not hold that this Liberty is equal in all Beings; for in supernal and divine Substances, such as Spirits and Angels are, there is a clear Judgment, and an incorrupt Will, and a ready and efficacious Power of doing things which are desired: But the Souls of Men must necessa­rily be more free when they continue to exer­cise themselves in the Contemplation of the Di­vine Mind; and they must be less so when they are withdrawn from that noble Speculation, and slide into corporal Substances; and yet less free when they are incompassed by, and closely bound up in earthly Members. But the last and meanest Slavery is, when they give themselves over to Vice, and so fall from the Possession of their proper Reason: for as soon as they remove their Eyes from the Light of the highest Truth, and fix them upon low, dark and base Ob­jects, they are immediately wrapt in a Cloud of Ignorance, are disturbed with pernicious De­sires and Affections; to which when they approach and agree, they help forward and increase that Servitude which they bring up­on themselves; and in some manner, even un­der the Liberty proper to them, they are Captives. But yet the Eye of Providence, which beholds all things from Eternity, sees this, and disposeth, according to their Me­rits, all things as they are predestinated; [Page 218] [...] that is, Homer. Iliad. γ. He seeth and heareth all things.

PROSA III.

NOW I am distracted with a more difficult Doubt than ever.

What is that I pray thee? for I do conjecture at what thou art troubled.

It seems to be repug­nant and adverse to Reason, that God should have a Fore-knowledg of all things, and at the [Page 219] same time there should be any such thing as Free-will: For if God foresees all things, and can in no manner be deceived, then that which Providence hath foreseen must necessarily come to pass. Wherefore if from Eternity God doth not only fore-know the Deeds, but also the Counsels and Wills of Men, there can be no Liberty of Will; nor can there be any other Deed, or any other Will than that which Di­vine Providence, which can by no means be deceived, hath foreseen or forethought. For if things may fall out contrary to such Fore­seeing, and be wrested another way, there can be no firm Prescience of Futurities, but rather an uncertain Opinion of them; and I take it to be impious to believe this of God. Nor do I approve of that Reason by which some think themselves able to unloose the Knot of this Question: For they say that a thing is not ne­cessarily to happen, because God hath foreseen that it will be; but rather on the contrary, be­cause a thing is to happen, it cannot lie hid from the Divine Providence; and so the Necessity slides upon the other side, it not being necessary that those things should happen which are fore­seen, though it be so that those things should be foreseen which are to happen: And it is just as if Men busied themselves to enquire which thing is the Cause of which thing, as whether Prescience be the Cause of the Necessity of [Page 220] things to come, or otherwise the Necessity of things to come were the Cause of Providence. But I shall now endeavour to evince by Demon­stration, that however the Order of Causes may stand, the Event of things foreseen is necessary, although Prescience doth not seem to impose a Necessity upon future things to fall out. For if a Man sit, the Opinion of him that con­jectures that he doth sit, must necessarily be true. And again, on the contrary, if that O­pinion be true of any one, because he sits, it is of necessity true that he doth sit. In both of these then there is a Necessity lodged; for in one is the Necessity of Sitting, and in the other is that of Truth: But a Man doth not there­fore sit because the Opinion of his sitting is true; but the Opinion is rather true, because the Man did sit before. So that although the Cause of Truth ariseth from the other part, yet there is in both a common Necessity seated. Thus may we reason also concerning Providence and fu­ture Events: For if therefore because things are future they are foreseen, they are not there­fore because they are foreseen to arrive: Never­theless it is necessary that things to come should be foreseen of God; or if foreseen, that they should happen: and this thing alone is enough to destroy the Doctrine of Free-will. But how preposterous a thing is it now, that the Event of temporal things should be said to [Page 221] be the Cause of eternal Prescience? For what other thing is it to imagine that God doth fore­see future things because they are to happen, than to imagine that what hath happened be­fore hath been the Cause of God's all-searching Providence? Add also to this, that when I know that any thing is, it is necessary that it should be. So also when I know that such a thing shall come, that must of necessity arrive. Hence it therefore follows that the Event of a foreknown thing cannot be avoided. Lastly, if any Man doth think otherwise of a thing than it really is, that is not only not Knowledg, but a false Opinion, differing far from the Truth of Knowledg. Wherefore if any thing be so to come that its Arrival be not certain and ne­cessary, how can it be foreseen that it will come? For as pure Knowledg is not mingled and con­founded with Falsity; so also that thing which is conceived by it, and derived from it, can be no otherwise than according to its Conception. And this is the Cause that Science abhors Lies and Falsity, and cannot be mistaken in what it knows, because it is necessary that every thing should be so as that comprehends it to be. What follows then? In what manner doth God know these uncertain Contingencies? For if he be­lieves that a thing shall inevitably fall out, which possibly may not fall out, he is deceived; but to believe or to speak this, is impiously to [Page 222] blaspheme. But if Providence discerneth that so as things are to come; they shall come; so that he knows that many may or may not be done, what then is this Fore-knowledg, which comprehends nothing certain, nothing stable? Or what doth this differ from the ridiculous Di­vination of Tiresias.] He was a Prophet of Thebes, who was feigned to be made blind by Juno, and to be endowed with the Faculty of Pro­phesying by Jupiter. Hence Hor. l. 2. Sermon. Sat. 5. Hoc quoque, Tiresia, praeter narrata, petenti Responde: quibus amissas reparare queam res Artibus atque modis. —O nulli quicquam mentite, vides, ut Nudus inopsque domum redeam, te vate. This Prophet used to speak ambiguously, as others who pretended to that Gift did, and was used to say, Quicquid dicam aut erit, aut non: When Horace in the same Place; O Laertiade, quicquid dicam aut erit, aut non: Divinare etenim magnus mihi donat Apollo. Tiresias? who said, Quicquid dicam aut erit aut non: All that I shall say shall either happen or shall not. Or how much doth Divine Providence differ from humane Opinion, if it make uncertain Judgments of things, as Men do, the Events whereof are not cer­tain. But if there can be nothing of Uncer­tainty in him who is the sure Fountain of all things, the Event of those things must be cer­tain which he firmly did know before would happen. Whence it follows that Men have no Freedom in their Counsels and Actions; which the Divine Mind, foreseeing all things, without [Page 223] Falsity or Error, doth strongly bind, and ne­cessarily oblige to one Event. And if it be once granted that there is no Freedom of Will, it is very evident how great the Confusion, and how mighty the Distraction will be of humane Affairs: For in vain are Rewards and Punish­ments propos'd to the Vertuous and Flagitious, which have not been deserved by any free and voluntary Motion of the Soul. And that which is now adjudged to be the most just, will be esteemed the most unequal thing in the World, which is, that evil Men should be punished, and the good rewarded, whom their proper Will doth not incline either to Vertue or Vice, but who are by a certain Necessity imposed upon Futurities, compell'd and thrust forwards towards both. Nor would there be such things as Vertue or Vice, but rather an undistinguish­ed Mixture and Confusion of all Rewards. And from this also it will follow, that since all Order is derived from Providence, and that no­thing is left free to the Counsels and Intentions of Men, that also our Vices shall be referr'd to the Author of all Good, than which no Opinion can be more impious. And of this it will also be a Consequence, that Men shall have no Rea­son either to hope for any thing from God, or to pray to him: For, for what should any Man either hope or pray, since the Series and the unalterable Course of Destiny knitteth all things [Page 224] together which are desirable? Therefore that only Commerce and Alliance which is betwixt God and Men, I mean the Liberty of Hoping and Praying, shall be abolished, and quite ex­tinguished. For at the just Price of Humility and Vertue we deserve the inestimable Reward of Divine Grace: And these are the only Means, to wit, Hope and Prayer, by which Men seem to have Power to speak with God, and to be advanced and joined to the inaccessi­ble Light, even before they obtain their Re­quests. And if Men believe that Hope and Prayer have no Power, because of the Necessi­ty of future Events, what thing is there then by which we may be united, and may hold fast to God the Prince and Director of all things? Wherefore Mankind must of necessity, as thou didst sing a little before, be dissevered and dis­joined from its Good, and must shrink from its Beginning.

PROSA IV.

THIS is the old Complaint against Providence, and the Question hath been much agitated and canvas'd by ^(f) Marcus Tullius Cicero, in his Book of Divination; and thou thy self hast considered it much and long, and made deep Researches into it, but it hath not yet been diligently and thorowly determin­ed by any of you. And the Cause of these Difficulties is, that the Motions of humane Ra­tiocination and Discourse cannot approach to the Purity of the Divine Prescience, which if Men would any way comprehend, there would be no doubt or scruple left: Which Difficulties I shall endeavour to clear to you, and remove, when I have explained and answered those Rea­sons by which thou hast been moved. For I ask why thou dost not think the Reasons of those who attempt to solve this Question effica­cious and satisfactory; which because they can­not maintain that Prescience is a necessary Cause of things to come, think that Free-will is nothing hindered by Prescience? Let me ask, [Page 227] dost thou draw an Argument of the Necessity of future things from any other Topick than this, that those things which are foreknown cannot but come to pass? If therefore Fore­knowledg imposeth no Necessity upon future things, as thou thy self a little before didst con­fess, what is it which may constrain the volun­tary End of things to a certain Event? Now for Argument-sake, that thou mayst better un­derstand what Will follow, let us suppose that there is no Prescience: Shall therefore, as much I mean as in that lies, those things which pro­ceed from Free-will, be constrained to submit to the Laws of Necessity?

No certainly.

Let us then again suppose that there is such a thing as Prescience, but that it doth not bind things by Necessity; the same entire and abso­lute Liberty of the Will will, I think, remain. But thou wilt say, that although the Prescience of things to come doth not intimate a Necessity of their coming, yet it is a Sign that they will necessarily happen. In this manner although Prescience had never been, the Events of future things would certainly be necessary: For eve­ry Sign signifieth only what a thing may be, but it doth not effect the thing which it design­eth. Wherefore it must first be demonstrated; that nothing happeneth but of Necessity, that it may appear that Prescience is a Sign of that Necessity. Otherwise if there be no Necessity, [Page 228] that Fore-knowledg can be no Sign of that which is not. And now it appears that this Proof is supported with firm Reason, and not by Signs and Arguments drawn from without, but from agreeing and necessary Causes. But how can it then happen, that those things which are foreseen should not fall out? As if we should not believe that those things will happen which Providence foreknows are to come; and that we should not rather think, that though they do happen, yet there is nothing in their own Nature of Necessity which makes them to do so; which thou mayst easily perceive by what I shall say. We see many things when they are done before our Eyes; as what we see the Cha­rioteer do in turning and winding of his Chariot; and so thou mayst imagine it is in all other things. Now is there any Necessity which compels these things to be done?

No cer­tainly, for the Working and Effect of Art were vain if all things were moved by Compulsion.

The things then which are done are under no Necessity that they should be done; then first before they were done, they were to have ar­rived without Necessity. Wherefore some things come to pass whose Ends are absolved from all Necessity: For I do not think that any Man will say this, that what is done now, be­fore it was done, was not to have happened. These things therefore, although foreknown, [Page 229] have free Events: For as the Knowledg of pre­sent things doth impose no Necessity upon things which are now done, no more doth the Fore-knowledg of Futurities upon those which are to come. But of this very thing thou mayst say there is a doubt, as whether there can be any certain Prenotion of things which have no certain and necessary Events: for they seem to discord, since thou dost think that if they be foreseen, they must necessarily fall out; and if that Necessity fail, they cannot be foreseen; and that nothing can be comprehended by Science but what is certain. And if those things which are attended by no certain Event, are foreseen as if they were certain, that would create a Dark­ness and Obscurity of Opinion, but not a stea­dy true Knowledg. And thou thinkest it not to be according to the Integrity and Manner of Science, to judg of things otherwise than they are. The Cause of which Error is, that what­soever Man knows, he thinks his Knowledg is derived from the Power and Nature only of that which is known, whilst is quite the con­trary: For every thing which is known, is com­prehended not after the Power and Force of the thing, but rather after the Faculty of the Know­er. And that this may be cleared by a short Example, the Sight doth one way perceive the same Roundness of a Body, and the Touch ano­ther. The Eye which is placed at a Distance [Page 230] beholds the whole together, and comprehend­eth it at the same time with its Rays: But the other cleaving and being join'd to the Orb, and moving about the Circuit, findeth out the Roundness by the Parts. And Man himself is one way looked upon by Sense, another way by the Imagination, another by Reason, another by the Understanding; for the Sense considers the Figure as it is constituted and directed in the subject Matter: The Imagination judgeth of the Figure alone without the Matter: But Rea­son transcends the other, and weighs with an universal Consideration the single Species; but the Eye of the Understanding soareth higher, for it surmounteth the universal Bounds, and runs distinctly over the very simple Form by Purity and Subtlety of Thought. In which that is mostly to be considered, that the superi­our Power of Comprehending doth embrace the inferiour, but the Inferiour can by no means mount up to the Superiour: For the Sense can comprehend nothing which is not of Matter, nor doth the Imagination regard the universal Species, nor doth Reason comprehend the sim­ple Form; but the Understanding which look­eth as it were from above, when it hath con­ceived the Form, it judgeth also of all things which are under it, but it knows them in the same manner by which it comprehended the Form, which can be known to none of the [Page 231] other: For it knoweth the whole of Reason, the Figure of the Imagination, the sensible Matter, neither using Reason, the Imagination, nor the Senses; but, as I may say, with one Effort of Mind it bringeth all things formally within the Compass of its View. Reason also when she looketh upon any universal thing, using neither the Imagination nor the Senses, doth yet comprehend all imaginable and sensi­ble things: For it is she who defineth the Uni­versality of her Conception thus: Man is a ra­tional Creature with two Feet; which though it be an universal Notion, no one yet is igno­rant of Man's being an imaginable and sensible thing, which she considereth not by Imaginati­on or Sense, but by a rational Conception. The Imagination also, although it deriveth its Pow­er of seeing and forming Figures from the Senses, yet in the Absence, and without the Use of the Senses, it considers and comprehends all sensible things, not by a sensible, but by an imaginative way of Judging. Dost not thou see then, that all things in knowing use rather their own proper Faculties, than the Force or Powers of those things which are to be known? Nor is it unreasonable that it should be so; for since every Judgment is the Act of the Judger, it is necessary that every one should do his own Work by the Help of his own Faculties, and not by the Assistance of foreign Power.

PROSA V.

BUT if in knowing and perceiving of Bo­dies, although the Qualities objected from without may affect the Instruments or Or­gans of the Senses, and the Passion or Suffering of the Body may go before the Strength and Vigour of the acting Soul, which may call forth the Act of the Mind or Thought residing within it self, and may in the mean time excite the Forms which lie quietly within: If, I say, in the perception of bodily things the Soul is not by the Impression of Passion made to know these things, but by its own Power judgeth of the Passion and Suffering of the Body, how much more then shall those things which are absolved and free from the Passions and Affecti­ons of Bodies, and from any Commerce with them, not in discerning, be guided by outward Objects, but accomplish and execute purely the Acts of their own Minds and Thoughts? By this Reason then there are several sorts of Knowing, to several and differing Substances: For Sense, which is alone destitute of all other Knowledg, is allotted to those Creatures which cannot move; such as are Shells of the Sea, and other things which are nourished by sticking to the Rocks. But the imaginative Power is pos­sessed [Page 235] by Beasts, which can move of them­selves, and who seem to have some kind of Fa­culty of desiring or refusing things; but Reason is the Talent of Mankind alone, as Intelligence only appertains to the Divine Nature. Hence it is that that Knowledg exceeds all other, which by its own Nature is not only acquainted with the Matter of that which properly be­longs to it, but also with that which is subject­ed to all others. But how will it then fall out, if Sense and Imagination oppose and are con­trary to Reason, affirming that that Universal is nothing which Reason thinks it so perfectly sees? For Sense intimates that that which is sensible and imaginable, cannot be universal: Then therefore the Judgment of Reason must be true, that nothing can be sensible: Or else, because she knows that many things are sub­ject to Sense and Imagination, the Concep­tion of Reason must be vain, which consider­eth that which is sensible and singular as an Universal. But if Reason should again an­swer to those things, and say, that she truly comprehends what is sensible and imaginable within the Compass of Universality; but yet she cannot aspire to the Knowledg of Uni­versality, because Knowledg of the former cannot exceed corporeal Figures: But as to the Knowledg of things, we ought to give Belief to the more firm and perfect Judg­ment [Page 236] of them. In a Contest of this kind therefore, ought not we who have in us all the Powers of Reason, Imagination, and Sense, rather to approve and support the Cause of Reason? Like this it is, when humane Rea­son imagines that the Divine Understanding beholdeth or knoweth not things to come, but just as they are beheld or known by her. For thus thou arguest; What things do not seem to have certain and necessary Events, they cannot be foreknown certainly to happen. Of these things therefore there is no Fore-know­ledg; or if we believe that there be any, then is there nothing which doth not happen of Necessity. If therefore we might have the Judgment of the Divine Mind, as we are Par­takers of Reason, we should judg as we have already judged, that Imagination and Sense ought to yield to Reason, and also judg that it is most just that humane Reason ought to submit it self to the Mind of God. Where­fore, if we may, let us advance our selves to the Height of the highest Intelligence, and there Reason shall see that which she cannot find in her self; and that is, in what manner the Prescience of God seeth and defineth all things, although they have no certain Event; nor let this be looked upon as an Opinion, but rather the Puri­ty and Simplicity of the Supreme Know­ledg, [Page 237] which can be included within no Bounds.

PROSA VI.

BEcause therefore, as I have demon­strated a little before, that every thing which is known, is not by its own Na­ture known, but by that of him who com­prehendeth it, let us now behold, as far as it is lawful for Philosophers, what the Estate is of the Divine Substance, that we may bet­ter see what this Knowledg is. It is the com­mon Judgment then of all those who live by the Rules of Reason, that God is Eternal: Let us then consider what Eternity is, for this would lay open to us, at the same time, the Nature of God and his Knowledg. Eternity therefore is a total and a perfect Possession of a Life which shall never have an End; which appears more clearly from the Comparison of temporal things: For whatsoever liveth in time, proceedeth to the present, from what is past to what is to come: And there is nothing under the Laws of Time, which can at once comprehend the whole Space of its Life. For a Man doth not yet possess to Morrow; and what was Yesterday he hath already lost; and in the Life of this Day you live no more but as in this passing and transitory flowing Mo­ment. Whatever therefore is subject to a tem­poral [Page 239] Condition, although, as Aristotle thought of the World, it never began to be, nor shall ever have end, but its Life shall be drawn out to an Infinity of Time, yet it is not that which Men may rightly judg to be Eternal: for although it comprehends the Space of an infinite Life, yet it doth not embrace altogether at the same time; for it wants the future things which are not yet ar­rived. Whatsoever then comprehends and possesses together, and at the same time the Fulness of an endless Life, which wants nothing of Futurity, and from which nothing that is past is escaped, ought justly to be esteemed Eternal: For it is necessary that that should always be present to it self, and Master of it self, and that it have always with it the In­finity of movable Time. Therefore they err, who when they heard that Plato believed that this World neither had Beginning, nor shall have End, in this manner they make that which is created, Coeternal with its Crea­tor: For it is one thing to be led on through an interminable Life, which Plato granted to the World, and another to comprehend at the same time together the Presence of such an one, which it is manifest is only proper to God. Nor ought it to seem to us that God is antienter than the created World by quan­tity of Time, but rather by the simple Pro­priety [Page 240] of his Nature. The infinite Motion of temporal things imitates the present State of immovable Life: and since it can neither coun­terfeit nor equal it, from Immobility it passeth into Motion; from the Simplicity of a pre­sent, it goeth into an infinite Quantity of fu­ture and past Time: And since it cannot toge­ther possess the Fulness of it self; yet in this, since it never ceaseth in some measure to be, it seems faintly to emulate that, to whose Per­fection it cannot attain, and which it cannot fully express, binding it self to some kind of Presence of this small and swift Moment; which, because it bears some Resemblance of that durable and present Time, it giveth to those things to which it happens a seeming Existence. And because this small Moment may not stay, it doth therefore proceed in the infinite way of Time. And hence it is that it continues it self in Progression, to the Fulness of which it could not attain by being fixed. If then we would, following Plato, impose Names sutable to things, let us say, that God is only Eternal, and the World is Perpetual. Since then every Judgment comprehends those things which are subject to it, according to its own Nature, there must always be allowed to God an eternal and ever present State: His Knowledg also exceeding all the Motions of Time, remaineth in the Pureness and Simpli­city [Page 241] of its Presence, containing the infinite Spaces of present and past Time, and consider­eth all things by the Purity of that Know­ledg, as if they were now doing. If there­fore thou wouldst rightly consider of that Prescience by which he fore-knoweth all things, thou shalt not esteem it as a Fore-knowledg of what is to come, but more rightly thou wilt find it to be the Knowledg of the pre­sent, and never failing NOW. Therefore it is not to be called Praevidentia, but rather Pro­videntia; which being placed far above all in­feriour things, doth as it were behold all from the very Heights of the World. What is it then that thou wouldst have, that these things should be attended by a necessary Event, which are view'd by the Divine Eye, since Men do not make those things necessary which they behold? For doth thine Eye which be­holdeth a present thing, add any thing of Ne­cessity to it?

No, it doth not.

But if Men do make a just Comparison betwixt the Divine and Humane Prescience, then as you see something by your temporal one, God seeth all things by his eternal one. Therefore this Divine Fore-sight doth not change the Nature and Property of things, but only be­holds those things as present to him, which shall in time be produced: Nor doth it con­found the Judgment of things, but know­eth [Page 242] at one View what is necessarily, and what is not necessarily to arrive. So you, when at the same time you see a Man walk upon the Earth, and the Sun to rise in the Heaven, although both were seen at the same time, yet you discern and judg that the Acti­on of the one was voluntary, and that of the other was a necessary one: So therefore the Eye of God looking down and beholding all things under him, doth not at all disturb the Qualities of things, which to him are present, but, in respect of Time, to you are future. Hence it is that this is not an Opinion, but a certain Knowledg grounded upon Truth, that when God knoweth that any thing is to be, at the same time he knoweth it not to be un­der a Necessity of existing. And here if thou sayst, that what God doth foresee shall hap­pen, it cannot but happen; and that which cannot do otherwise than happen, must of Necessity come to pass, and so must bind me to a Necessity: I will confess that this is a most solid Truth, but it is such an one that scarce any one can attain to, unless he be ac­quainted with the Mind of God. For I will answer thee thus; That the Thing which is to arrive, being referr'd to the Divine Know­ledg, becomes necessary; but if it be taken ac­cording to its own Nature, it seems altoge­ther absolute and free: For there are two [Page 243] kinds of Necessities; one simple, as that it is necessary for all Men to die; the other is con­ditional, as if thou knowest any one doth walk, it is necessary that he do walk. What then any one knows, it cannot be otherwise than it is known to be: But this Condition doth not at all draw that simple one along with it. For its pro­per Nature doth not constitute this Necessity, but the Addition of the Condition: For no Necessity compels a Man to walk, who walks voluntarily, although it must be necessary that he should walk when he doth. Therefore, in the same manner, if Providence seeth any thing present, it is necessary that it should be, al­though in its own Nature there be nothing to constitute that Necessity: but all Futurities, which proceed from Free-will, God sees as present to him. These things therefore, Re­lation being had to the Divine Sight, are made necessary by the Condition of the Divine Knowledg; but being considered by them­selves, they do not recede from the absolute Liberty of their Nature. All things there­fore shall come to pass, which God foresees shall have a Being, but many of them pro­ceed from Free-will; which, although they do happen, yet they do not by existing lose any thing of their Nature; by which it was in their Power before they did happen, not to have happened.

What then, is it to the [Page 244] purpose if things be not necessary in their own Nature, since by the Condition of the Di­vine Knowledg they fall out together, as if they lay under a Necessity?

This is the Difference, that those things which a little before I proposed to thee, to wit, the Sun rising, and a Man going, which, when they are done, cannot but be done: But yet it was necessary that one of these before it was done should exist, but it was not so with the other. So then those things which God doth see at pre­sent, do without doubt exist; but some of them proceed from the Nature of things, as is instanced in the rising of the Sun; and others from the Will and Power of the Doer, as it is in the other Instance.

Therefore I did not say amiss when I said, that some things, being referred to the Divine Knowledg, are necessary; but if considered by themselves, they are absolved from the Bonds of Necessi­ty. Just as every thing which is an Object of the Senses, if it be considered by Reason, it is universal; but if by it self, it is singular. But thou mayst say, that if it be in my Pow­er to change my purpose, I shall destroy Pro­vidence, and make it to signify nothing, if perchance I should change that which she hath foreseen.

Thus I will answer thee, That thou mayst perchance alter thy purpose; but because the present Truth of the Divine [Page 245] Providence foreseeth that thou mayst change it; but whether thou dost it or not, or which way soever thou mayst turn it, thou canst not avoid the Prescience of God; no more than thou canst fly from the Sight of his Eye, al­though by the Freedom of thy Will thou dost turn thy self to never so great a Diver­sity of Actions. But what then mayst thou say? Shall the Divine Knowledg be changed according to the Mutability of my Dispositi­on; so that when I would now do that, and now do this, that also should seem to vary its turns of Knowing? No certainly; for the Divine Eye foreruns all future things, and re­turns and brings them back to the Presence of God's proper Knowledg. Nor doth he, as thou thinkest, change his turns of Fore­knowing, now this, now that; but he re­mains fixed, and at once foresees and compre­hends all the Variations and Changes. Which present Faculty of comprehending and see­ing all things, God doth not receive from the Events of future things, but from the proper Simplicity of his own Nature. Hence also that is resolved which thou didst lay down a little before, which was, that it is unfit to be thought that our future Actions and Events are the Causes of the Prescience of God: For this Strength of the Divine Mind which em­braceth and comprehends all things with a [Page 246] present Knowledg, hath it self appointed a Method and Bounds to all things, and is not beholden to Futurities. Since then things are thus, there remains to Men an inviolable Free­dom of Will. Nor are the Laws to blame when they propose Rewards and Punishments to those whose Wills are free from the Yoke of Necessity. That God also who foreknow­eth all things remains above, and the always-present Eternity of his Sight agreeth with the future Quality of our Actions, dispensing Re­wards to good, and Punishments to evil Men. Nor are our Hopes and Prayers lodged and addressed to God in vain, which when they are sincere and honest cannot be unsuc­cessful, nor without Effect. Hate Vice then, and turn from it; love, honour and adore Vertue; advance your Minds and Thoughts to the truest Hope, and let your humble Prayers mount on high: for there is a great Necessity of being good and vertuous im­posed upon you, if you will not dissemble, since you act in the Sight of a Judg that seeth all things.