SECT. I. That the Greeks were inferior to the Romans in most Points of useful knowledge.

BEING at length wholly or in great part, eas'd of the toyle of Pleading, and State Affairs. I have, chiefly upon your advice, most worthy Brutus, turn'd my thoughts to those Studies which I had indeed retain'd in mind, but after long dis-continu­ance upon incursion of business, and the late Troubles I have resum'd. Now whereas the Sy­stems and Circle of all those Arts which relate to direction in the way of well-living, are com­priz'd in the Study of Wisdom, so call'd Philo­sophy; this I have thought expedient to illustrate in Latin. Not but that Philosophy may be learn'd from Greek Treatises and Tutors. But I have still been of the Judgment that my Country-men have either invented all things more wisely than the Greeks, or improv'd whatever they receiv'd from them, which they counted worth the bestowing [Page 2] their time and pains upon. For as to personal de­portment, and ordering Family Concerns, we support them with much more Splendor and Dis­cretion. But as to the publick, our Ancestors set­tled the State upon unquestionably better Laws and Customs. What need I mention the Military part, wherein my Country-men have excell'd as in Valour, so much more in Discipline? Now for those Advantages which are the Products of Na­ture, not acquists of Study, neither Greeks nor any other Nation under Heaven may compare with them. For what Gravity, what Constancy of mind, what Resolution, Honor, Conscience, what so universal excellency of Vertue, hath been any where to be found, as might match the old Ro­man? Greece indeed had better Scholars and more Books, wherein the Victory was easily gain'd over them that made no Resistance. For whereas the ancientest sort of learned men among the Greeks were their Poets, (if it be true that Homer and Hesiod were before the building of Rome, and A [...] ­chilochus in the Reign of Romidus) Poetry came later among us, for about CCCCX. after the build­ing of Rome, Livy put out the first Play, in the Consulship of C. Claudius Son of Appius the blind, and M. Tuditanus the year before Ennius was born, who was elder than Plautus and Naevius. *

SECT. II. However Superior in Poetry, Pictures, Mu­sick and Geometry.

THerefore was it late before Poets were either understood or countenanc'd among us. Al­though it be Recorded in the Antiquities, that the Romans were wont in their solemn Festivals to sing to the sound of the Pipe, Commemorations of men of Renown. Yet that this sort of Bards were in no credit, is evident from the Oration of the same Cato, wherein he objects it by way of reproach against M. Nobilior, that he had carried Poets into the Country where his Government lay. Now when he was Consul, he had taken Ennius along with him into Aetolia, as is well known. The less Reputation therefore Poets found, the less did men addict themselves to Poetry. And yet if any great Wits have appear'd, whose Genius led them that way, these have equalliz'd the Character of the most fam'd Greeks. Can we imagine if Painting had been judg'd a Commendation to that noble Personage, Fabius, there would not have been among the Romans too, many a Polyclete and Par­rhasius? Honor cherisheth Arts, and we are all inflam'd by Glory, to the more industrious pur­suit of our Studies: Whereas all things that are unfashionable in any People, lye disregarded. The Grecians thought a high prize of skill plac'd in un­derstanding Vocal and Instrumental Musick. There­fore [Page 4] Epaminondas, in my Judgment, the greatest man of Greece, is reported to have play'd singularly well on the Lute. Whereas Themistocles some years before, for having refus'd the Harp, coming to him at a Feast, was censur'd for want of Breeding. This was the reason that Greece flourish'd with Mu­sicians; all learn'd to Play, and he that was not Musical, was judg'd deficient in gentile Education. Geometry was among them in great request, there­fore nothing was more famous than their Mathe­maticians. But we have restrain'd the compass of this Art, within the necessary uses of surveying and casting up Accompts.

SECT. III. Have overtaken them in Rhetorick, which is encouragement to set upon Philosophy.

WHen on the contrary we soon clos'd with the Orator, at first no Scholar, but of a popular Eloquence, though plain; afterwards Scholar too, for Galba, Africanus, Laelius, are re­ported to have been learned; and Cato who liv'd before them to have studied after these, Lepidus, Carbo, the Gracchi; since whom down to our Age, men so ev'ry ways acomplish'd, that we come not much if any thing at all, behind the Greeks. Phi­losophy to this Age hath lain neglected, nor re­ceiv'd any lustre from the Latin Tongue, which is our present attempt to raise up and illustrate that so, if, when employ'd, we were any way service­able to our Country-men, we may further serve them in our retirements, wherein we are oblig'd to use the more diligence, because many Books are said to be already written in Latin unadvisedly by well-meaning but insufficient men. Now it is possible, that one may have true Conceptions, and yet not be able to express his Notions in proper Terms; but for a man to commit his thoughts to writing for the publick, who can neither put them in due method, nor illustrate them with clear Proofs, nor by any delightful Ornaments entertain his Reader, is the part of one that at no rate abuses his own time, and the benefit of Writing. Here­upon they read their own Books among them­selves, [Page 6] nor doth any one else meddle with them, but they that expect allowance to write after the same loose fashion. Whereupon if we have brought Oratory any credit by our Industry, we shall much more earnestly discover the Springs of Philosophy, from whence those other Rivulets issued. *

SECT. IV. Philosophy joyn'd with Oratory is more bene­ficial.

BUT as Aristotle a man of an incomparable Wit, and great variety of knowledge, being mov'd with the glory of Isocrates the Rhetorician, begun himself to make Orations, and to teach his Pupils so to do, and to joyn Prudence with Eloquence; in like manner are we resolv'd both not to disuse our ancient Practice of Oratory, and withall to ex­ercise our selves in this more sublime and copious Art. For I ever judg'd that to be perfect Philo­sophy, an ability to discourse at large and floridly [Page 7] upon the most important Points. To which exer­cise we have so diligently apply'd our selves, that we have already presum'd after the Greek Mode, to hold formal Disputations, and oppose what question should be Problematically maintain'd; as of late since your departure, having many of my Acquaintance with me in my Country-house at Tusoulum, I made trial of my Abilities that way. For as heretofore I was us'd to declaim upon Law-Cases, which no man continu'd to do longer than I; so now this serves for my Declamation in old Age. I bid one propound such Subjects as he was willing to hear controverted; upon this I disput­ed either as I sate or walked. So I have cast the dayes Acts as they call them into so many Books. The manner of which was, that when the Learner had propos'd his Judgment, I oppos'd. For this is the old and Socratick way to dispute against anothers Opinion; by which means Socrates thought it might be most easily discover'd, what carried along with it the greatest Probability. But that our Disputations may be more clearly comprehended, I shall lay them down, so as if they were upon the place kept, not barely reported. Thus therefore shall the entrance upon the present Debate natu­rally arise. *

SECT. V. The Position.

I Am of the Judgment that [Death] is evil.

Whether to them that are dead, or to them that must dye?

To both.

It is therefore miserable because evil.

True.

Therefore they who are already dead, and they who must hereafter dye, are both miserable.

That is my opinion.

There is none therefore but who is miser­able.

No not one.

Nay further, if you will be true to what you hold, all that ever were or shall be born, are not only miserable, but also for ever miserable. For had you only held them miserable who must [Page 9] dye, you had excepted none of them who are alive; for all must dye; yet death would have been the end of misery; but because they who be dead are also miserable, a we are born to ever­lasting Misery. For of necessity they are miserable who were dead a 100000 years ago, or rather all that ever were born.

I am clearly of that Perswasion.

Prithee tell me, do these Advises from under ground scare you? The black Mastiff with three Heads, the howling River, the Ferry over the Stygian Lake, Tantalus chin-deep in Water choak'd with thirst? Doth

Perhaps too those inexorable Justicers Minos and Rhadamanthus, before whom you can have neither Lucius Crassus, nor Mark Antony to plead your Cause; nor, because the Matter is to be try'd be­fore Greek Judges, can you have Demosthenes for Counsel; your self must make your own defence in the greatest of all Assemblies. These things per­haps you dread, and therefore apprehend death as an eternal Evil.

SECT. VI. The Local Hell, describ'd by Poets is ficti­tious.

DO you take me to be so destitute of Rea­son, as to believe these Legends?

What do not you verily believe them?

Not I at all.

You tell me ill news.

How so? I beseech you.

Because I could have past for a Wit in con­futing them.

And who might not on such a Subject? or what difficulty is it to prove these to be meer ex­travagancies of Poets and Painters?

Why? there are whole Book-fulls in the Phi­losophers, of Disputations, to overthrow these Sup­posititions.

To much purpose indeed; for who is so senseless as to be concern'd at them?

If therefore there be none miserable under ground, neither are there any Persons under ground.

I am clear of your mind in that.

Where then are those that you call miser­able? or what place do they inhabit? for, if they be, they cannot be no where.

Yes, I think them to be no where.

Therefore neither to be.

Well, as you say, and yet miserable for that very reason, because they be not.

Nay, now had I rather you were afraid of Cerberus, than to use such inconsiderate Discourse.

How so?

You say that the same is not, and yet is. Where is your Subtilty? for when you say he is miserable, you then say that he who is not, yet is.

I am not so stupid as to say that.

What is it then that you say?

That M. Crassus, for instance, is miserable, who by death was taken from that Estate. Cn. Pompey miserable, who was depriv'd of so great Glory; in a word, that all are miserable who lack this chearful light.

You come round thither where you were before; for they needs must be, if they are miser­able, but you lately deny'd that the Dead are; if therefore they are not, they cannot be any thing, and by consequence not miserable.

Perchance I do not yet speak out my mean­ing, for I take that very thing to be most miser­able for him not to be that hath been.

What? more miserable than for one never to have been at all? by the same reason they that are yet unborn, are already miserable, because they are not. And we our selves, if we shall be miserable after we are dead, were so before we were born; but I do not remember that I was mi­serable before I was born: you, if you have a bet­ter Memory, I would fain know whether you re­member any such thing of your self? *

SECT. VII. They who are not, are not miserable.

YOU make a Droll of it, as if I said they are miserable who are not born, and not those that are dead.

You say then that these are.

Nay, but because they have been, and are not, that they are miserable.

Do not you perceive that you speak Con­tradictions? for what is so opposite, as that he should be not only miserable, but any thing, who is not at all? (b) As you go out at the Capuan Gate, and see there the Sepulchres of Calatinus, the Scipio's, the Servilii. and Marcelli, can you judge them miserable?

Because you pinch me with cavilling at a word, I shall hereafter forbear to say they are miserable, but only term them miserable for that very reason because they are not.

You do not say then M. Crassus is miserable, but miserable M. Crassus.

Right.

As though whatsoever is pronounc'd of any one, were not of necessity either so, or not so; have you not so much as learn'd the Rudiments of Logick? for this is a fundamental Maxim there, that every Proposition must be either true or false; [Page 13] when therefore you say miserable M. Crassus, either you say M. Crassus is miserable, that it may be brought to trial whether it be true or false; or you say nothing at all.

Well then, I grant that they are not miser­able who are dead, because you have wrack'd out of me the Confession, that (a) they who have no be­ing, cannot be so much as miserable; what say you of us that are alive, can we be other than miserable, since we must dye? for what enjoy­ment can there be in life, when we are to think day and night that dye we must of a certain, and it is uncertain whether this or the next Moment?

SECT. VIII. Nor is dying a miserable thing, it is assay'd, to prove it rather good.

DO you come then to understand of how much evil you have discharg'd humane Condition?

Which way?

Because, if dying had been miserable to them that are dead, we should have had an end­less and everlasting evil in Life. Now I see the Goal, whether when I have finish'd my course nothing further is to be fear'd. But you seem to me to be of Epicharmus's mind, an acute man, and not unfacetious, as being a Sicilian.

What was his mind? for I do not know it.

I will tell you if I can translate it, for you know I no more use to bring in ends of Greek in a Latin Discourse, than when I am speaking Greek to come in with Latin Sentences.

In that you are right: but what, I pray, is that saying of Epicharmus?

To dye I'me loth, but weigh not to be dead.

Now I find the Greek by his subtlety, but since you have forc'd me to yield, that they who are dead, are not miserable; perswade me, if you can, that it is not a miserable thing that we must dye.

There is now no great difficulty in that, but I aim at higher Matters.

How no great difficulty in that? or what can be those higher Matters?

Because if there be no evil after death, nei­ther can death it self be evil, for the time which immediately follows it is after death, wherein you allow that there is no evil, upon which follows, that neither is it evil that we must dye; which is, we must arrive thither, where we confess is no evil.

Speak to that I pray more largely; for these captious questions sooner gain of me a Confession than a Conviction. But what are those higher Matters that you say you aim at?

To make out, if I am able, that death is so far from being evil, that it is good.

I do not require that from you, but would gladly hear it; for though you should not demon­strate what you attempt, yet you will gain the question that death is not evil. Proceed then, I shall not interrupt you. I had rather hear it in a continu'd Speech.

What if I should ask you any thing, would you not answer me?

That were an uncivil part, but unless there be a necessity, I had rather you would for bear it. *

SECT. IX. What is death, what the Soul, in vulgar Opi­nion.

I Will comply with you, and to my best Abi­lity declare what you desire; yet not so as if inspir'd by Pythian Apollo, I should speak nothing that were no Oracle and Infallible; but as a weak man of like frailty with the rest of Mankind, pur­suing what hath greatest appearance of Truth; for beyond probabilities, I am not able to advance. Let (a) them deliver Certainties, who both affirm these Matters to be comprehensible, and profess them­selves to have arriv'd at Perfection.

In that, as you please, we are prepar'd to give attention.

Death then however universally it may seem to be known, must first be enquir'd what it is. Some hold death to be a Separation of the Body from the Soul. Others think there is no Se­paration, but that both Soul and Body determine at once, and that the Soul is extinguish'd with the Carkass. Of those who judge that the Soul departs, some hold that it presently scatters; some again, after a long space; others maintain that it endures for ever. Now what it is, where seated, or whence it cometh, is matter of great Controversie. Some take it to be the heart; whence men are said to be without Heart, of a bad Heart, or of one Heart. And that great Statesman Nasica, who was twice Consul, had the Surname of Wise-heart.

[Page 17] And the old Poet terms,

Empedocles thinks the Soul to be the Bloodshed through the Heart. Others judge that a part of the Brain is the Principle of Sense and Understand­ing. Another Party cannot agree, either the one or other to be the Soul, but these lodge it in the Heart, those in the Brain as its Seat or Palace. Others, and among them we in our own Language use the name Soul and Spirit promiscuously; for we say to gasp and expire, or give up the Ghost; also men of a gallant Spirit, of a sound Spirit and the like. As for Spirit it is, being interpreted, Breath. Zeno the Stoic holds the Soul to be a Fire.

SECT. X. What it is in the Judgment of divers Philo­sophers.

BUT these which I have recited, that the Soul should be Heart, Brains, Breath, Fire are vulgar Opinions; the remaining private Doctors have held, and some of the Ancient ones. Of later date Aristoxenus, Musician and Philosopher too, [Page 18] maintain'd it was a certain Key to which the body was strain'd, as in the tuning of an Instrument; so by the nature and posture of the Body, variety of Motions were rais'd, and as Notes in Musick. He kept to his Art, yet somewhat he said, which somewhat such as it was, had been long before both said and explain'd by Plato. Xenocrates deny'd that the Soul hath any corporeal Figure, but said it was a number, whose Power, as Pythagoras had before held, was of great Efficacy in Nature. His Master Plato divided the Soul into three Parts. The Principal of these, which is Reason, he plac'd in the Head as in its Citadel, and separated into two, Anger and Lust, which he lodg'd in different Apartments, placing Anger in the Stomach, and Lust under the Entrails. But Dicaearchus in that Discourse which he held at Corinth, and put out in three Books in the Person of learned men, in the first Books brings in many Disputants; in the two latter introduceth one Pherecrates an old man of Phthia, whom he alledgeth as descended of Deucalion, and there to argue that there is no such being as a Soul; that it is a meer Name without a Notion, and that we speak improperly in say­ing, that Creatures have a living Soul; whereas in truth there is neither in Man nor Beast, any such thing as Soul or Spirit, but all that Power which produceth in us Actions of the Mind, or Senses is an equal Complexion of the Elements, nor can subsist in a separate Estate, as being no substance, but plain body, which under such a Figure, is by its natural Temper dispos'd to Ve­getation and Sense. Aristotle who far surpasseth all others (Plato alwayes excepted) both in Parts and Industry, after he had computed the four Ele­ments which furnish material cause of existence to [Page 19] all compound Bodies, pitches upon a fifth Essence, of which the rational Soul should consist; for to think and forecast, to learn and teach, to invent, with so many other Abilities of Memory, Love, Hatred, Desire, Fear, Anxiety, Joy, he doth not conceive these and the like, can be inherent in any of those four Elements. Hereupon he adds a fifth nameless Nature, and so calls the Soul by the new name of a pure Act, being in continu'd and per­petual Motion.

SECT. XI. Inferences from these diverse Opinions.

THese are almost all the Opinions about the Soul, as far as I can recollect; for let us wave Democritus, a brave man indeed and excel­lent Scholar, but who fram'd the Soul upon a casual rencounter of smooth and globular Moths, for among those Gentlemen there is no feat so strange, but what omnipotent Atomes can perform. Of these Opinions which is true, God alone knows; which hath the greatest appearance of truth, is much to be question'd. Had we best therefore discuss these different Opinions, or return to the enquiry at first propos'd?

I would fain both might be, if it were possi­ble; but it is hard to confound them: Wherefore, if without scanning them at large, we may be de­liver'd from the Terrors of death, let that be our business; but if that cannot be obtain'd till this question of the Souls nature be decided, let us now dispatch this, and that another time.

I judge that more convenient, which I find you like better; for it will be concluded with good Reason, that whatsoever of those Opinions which I have alledged, prove true, death must be either not evil, or rather good. For if the Soul be Heart, or Blood, or Brains, of a certain, be­cause it is Corporal, it will dye with the other Body. If it be breath, perhaps it will scatter into thin Air: If Fire, it will be quench'd: If it be the Harmony of Aristoxenus, it will be discomposed. What need I mention Dicaearchus, who allows not the Soul to be any Substance? according to all these Opinions, none hath any concern after Death; for Life and Sense are extinguish'd together. But what is insensible, hath neither interest in good or evil. The Judgments of the rest open some door of Hope, if this may chance to please you, that our Souls, when they have escap'd out of our Bo­dies, may arrive at Heaven, as at their own Home.

That is well pleasing to me, and I could principally wish that it were so. But next, how­ever it is, could be contented with the perswasion that it were so.

What need have you of our pains to that purpose? can we surpass Plato in Eloquence? Read over diligently his Book about the Soul, you will need no further Information.

I have in truth done so, and that many times; but, I know not how, whilst I am in reading I yield my assent; when I have laid down the Book, and begin to meditate with my self upon the Soul's Im­mortality, all my former Assent slips out of my mind.

What think you of this? do you grant that Souls do either subsist after death, or determine upon death?

I readily grant it.

(b) What if they survive?

I allow they are blessed.

If they dye?

That they are not miserable, because they have no being; for that Point upon compulsion from you, we a little before granted.

How then, or wherefore do you say death in your judgment to be an evil, which either ren­ders us blessed in case the Soul survive, or not mi­serable, as being without all Sense?

SECT. XII. Arguments that the Soul subsists after Death, from immemorial Tradition, from Funeral Rites, and from the Veneration of ancient Heroes.

BE pleas'd therefore to declare in the first place, if you are able, that the Soul sub­sists after Death; if you cannot evince that (for it is a hard matter to make out clearly) inform us [Page 22] that Death carrieth no evil along with it; for I fear least that be evil, I say not, to be insensible, but that we must lose our Senses.

We can produce the best Authority for that Sentence which you would gain; now this both ought, and is wont to be of greatest moment in deciding all Causes; as first the consent of all An­tiquity, who the less distance they were remov'd from their original and divine Extraction, did per­haps discern truth more clearly. Therefore this one Principle was deeply engrasted in those old Sires, who liv'd in the non-age of time, that there was Sense after Death; nor would man by depar­ture out of Life, be so rais'd up from the Founda­tions, as to perish totally. And this may be col­lected, as from many other Instances, so in parti­cular from the Pontifical Sanctions about Cere­monies at the places of burial, which they would never have observ'd with so much Devotion, nor aveng'd the breach of them under such inexpiable Penalties, had it not been imprinted in their minds, that death was not an Annihilation, but a removal and change only of Life, which used to conduct Men and Women of good Fame up to Heaven; and which continu'd in others, but was depress'd to the grosser Regions investing the Earth. After this Ritual, and the Opinion of our Ancestors,

as Ennius, compliant with Fame, sweetly sings. In like manner among the Greeks, and from them deriv'd to us, and as far as the Western Ocean is Hercules esteem'd, a God so powerful and propiti­ous. From hence Bacchus born of Sem [...]le, and in like renown Castor and Pollux Brethren, Sons of Ty­nearus, [Page 23] who are deliver'd to have been in the Bat­tles of the Roman People, not only assistants of Victory, (c) but also Messengers there of express: What is not Ino, Cadmus's Daughter, who was nam'd by the Greeks Leucothea, term'd by the Ro­mans, Matuta? What? is not almost all Heaven, not to instance in more, peopled with Inhabitants of humane Race?

SECT. XIII. From this that the Superior Gods are receiv'd to have been Men deceas'd.

BUT if I should go about to ransack old Monu­ments, and discover out of them what the Greek Writers have disclos'd; those very Gods which are reputed of the higher Rank, will be found to have pass'd from us here to Heaven. En­quire whose Sepulchers are shew'd in Greece. Call to mind, because you have been admitted to the Vision of the secret Ceremonies, what passages are deliver'd in those Mysteries; so will you come to [Page 24] understand of how large extent this Suggestion is. But those plain-hearted Ancients, who had never learn'd these Systems of natural Theology, which many years after came to be form'd, believ'd no more than the bare objects of their Senses, com­prehended not the Reasons and Causes of them; were often mov'd by some Apparitions, and those most commonly in the night, to conceive that those who had departed this World, were still alive. Now allowing this to pass for a most con­clusive Argument, why we should believe the be­ing of a God, because there is no People so Savage, no Person so Barbarous, but hath some Notion of a Deity impress'd on his mind. Many have un­worthy Conceptions of God, for that ariseth from corrupt Custom; yet all concur in this Faith, that there is a divine Nature and Power, nor is this opinion wrought by the Conferring or Combinati­on of men together, nor is it built upon Customs or Laws. Now the consent of all Nations in any thing, is to be esteem'd the Law of Nature. Who there­fore is there who doth not mourn for the loss of his Friends, upon the account that he thinks them depriv'd of the Comforts of Life? Take away this Opinion, and you will take away Mourning, for no body bemoans his own loss. Perhaps they grieve or are in anguish for it. That same pitiful La­mentation, weeping and wailing, springeth from the Consideration, that we judge him whom we lov'd, despoil'd of the Conveniencies of Life, and sensible that he is so. And this judgment we bear from the Impressions of Nature, without any Con­clusions of Reason, or Instructions of Learning.

SECT. XIV. From an innate care of Posterity, and zeal for the State.

FUrther it is a strong Argument, that Nature hath in her self secret Convictions about the Souls Immortality, from that Providence which all have, and especially in those things which are to take place after our Death.

As saith Statius in the Comedy of the young Twins; upon what Contemplation but only this, that he is interess'd in succeeding Generations? Shall then a careful Husbandman Plant Trees, whereof he is ne­ver likely to see one Berry, and shall not a good Pa­triot plant Laws, Customs for the Commonwealth. What means the breeding of Children; what the propagating our Name; what the Adoptions of Sons; what the formality of Wills; what the Mo­numents of Tombs; what Epitaphs, but what we reckon upon future times. What say we to this? Do you make any question, but that a Pattern of our Nature ought to be taken from the very best of Natures? Now what Nature is better in Mankind, than that of those who esteem themselves born for the Suc­cor, Defence, and Preservation of men. Hercules is gone to the Gods; he had never gone, had he not, while he liv'd among men, secur'd his passage thither.

SECT. XV. And thirst after Glory.

THese Instances are of old Date, and conse­crated by the Religion of all People. By what Principles do we suppose so many brave Per­sons acted in our own State, who laid down their Lives for the Commonwealth? was it their Judg­ment, that their name should be confin'd within the same compass as their Lives? No man without great hopes of immortality would ever offer up himself in the Service of his Country. Themistocles might have liv'd at ease; so might Epaminondas, and (not to look abroad or backward for Examples) so might I. But there is in our minds a kind of secret sally-port, whereby we make excursion into future Ages. This is most forward and observable in the most pregnant Wits and gallant Spirits. Take away this, who would be so sensless as to live in perpetual toyl and haz­zard? I speak for Statesmen, but as to Poets, have they no regard to Fame after Death, whence then came this Inscription?

He expects the Wages of Glory from those whose Parents he had immortaliz'd. Then further on the same occasion,

But why do I insist on Poets? Artisans strive to be ennobled by their Master-pieces after Death. For why else should Phidias work an Image like him­self in the Shield of Minerva, where he might not inscribe his Name? Nay our own Philosophers, do they not set their Names to those very Books which they write upon contemning Glory? Now if the consent of all men be the voice of Nature; and all men every where do accord, that they who are departed this Life, have some interest here; we then must needs be of the same Sense: and if any who excell in Parts and Vertue, we suppose them as being best natur'd, to see farthest into the Power of Nature; it is likely, since the best men are most serviceable to Posterity, that there is somewhat whereof they shall be sensible after Death.

SECT. XVI. That Dead mens Souls abide in Caves under earth, is the groundless Fiction of Poets, or Imposture of Magicians.

BUT as We conceive the Being of God by natu­ral Instinct, but gather his Nature and At­tributes by rational Deductions; so that Souls do subsist in a separate State, we judge by the consent of all Nations; what Mansions they inhabit, and what be their essential Qualities we must learn; by reason the ignorance of which hath feigned a Hell in the Center of the Earth, and those bugbears which you did seem not without just Cause to de­spise. For when Bodies fell into the Earth, and were covered within the ground, from whence they are said to be inhum'd, they fancied that the dead led the rest of their Life under the Earth. Upon which opinion of theirs, great errors ensu'd; these the Poets improv'd. For the cram'd Seats of the Theater, in which be Women and Children, are mov'd when they hear such a lofty Verse:

And so far did the error prevail, which seems to me now taken quite away, that though they knew Corpses to have been burnt, yet they feign'd such Acts done below, as could neither be performed [Page 29] without corporeal Organs, nor understood. For they could not comprehend the Soul's subsisting in a separate condition, but requir'd it to have some shape and figure. Upon this conceit depends all Homer's Descent into Hell. Upon the same, that Necromancy, which my Friend Appius practis'd. Upon this the Avernian Lake in our Neighbor­hood.

Yet they will have these Images speak; which is impossible without a Tongue, without a Palate, without the force and figure of Throat, Sides and Lungs. They could not see any thing by the mind, but terminated all sight in the Eyes. Now it is the part of a noble Wit, to call the Mind off from the Senses, and take it out of the common Road. There­fore I suppose that in so many Ages, some have before done so; but of all whose Opinions are Recorded, (a) Pherecydes the Syrese first maintain'd that Humane Souls are immortal. An Author of great Antiquity, (b) for he liv'd in the Reign of my Kinsman. This opinion his Scholar Pythagoras greatly confirm'd, who being come into Italy in the Reign of Tarquin the proud sway'd Greece the Great, with honor to his Person, multitude of Au­ditors, and Authority of his Doctrine: so that for many years after, the Pythagorean Name so flour sh'd, that none were reputed Scholars who were not of his Sect.

SECT. XVII. That it is more likely they ascend.

BUT I return to the Ancients; they were hardly wont to give any reason of their Opinion, un­less in matters demonstrable by Lines and Num­bers. Plato is reported to have travelled into Italy, that he might be acquainted with the Pythagoreans; and when he was there, to have had intimacy with Architas and Timaeus, so that he became ex­pert in all the Pythogorean Learning; and was the first that not only held the same concerning the Immortality of the Soul, as Pythagoras did; but further brought his reason to prove it; which rea­son, unless you otherwise require, let us blanch, and so abandon this whole hope of Immorta­lity.

Do you offer, now you have rais'd my ex­pectations to the heighth, to disappoint me? had rather, I assure you, be mistaken with Plato, whom I know how much you magnifie, and am wont, upon your Commendation, to admire, than to be of their opinion in the right.

Bravely resolv'd! for I my self could be contented with so good Company, to be in the wrong. Do we then question this, as many other passages? although there be least ground to doubt this; Mathematicians perswade us, that the [Page 31] Earth, situated in the middle of the Universe, bear­eth the proportion of a Point, which they call the Center, in comparison with the vast Orb of the Starry Heavens: and further, that such is the na­ture of the four Elements, that their Motions are divided by opposite terms; so that terrene and humid Bodies of their own bent and sway, tend perpendicularly to the Earth and Sea; the two remaining parts, the one of Fire, the other of Air, as the former by their heaviness, sink down into the middle of the World; so these sore up at right Angles to the heavenly Regions; whether it be their own nature to aspire upward; (c) or that the lighter parts are naturally lifted up by the des­cent of the more heavy. These things being on all hands agreed, it ought to be alike evident that Souls, when they depart the Body, whether they be of a spiritous or fiery substance, mount towards Heaven; but if the Soul be a number, which is said with more subtlety than plainness; or if it be of that fifth Nature, which however nameless, is not so very difficult to be understood; then are they much more abstract from matter, and of greater purity, and will consequently ascend to the greatest distance from the Earth. Now some of these Natures the Soul must needs be of; not to fancy so quick and sprightly an Intelligence, lying plung'd in the Heart, or Brains, or after Empedocles, in the Blood.

SECT. VIII. Nor vanish.

AS for Dicaearchus, with Aristoxenus his Con­temporary and Fellow-Pupil, let them pass for great Scholars, the one of which seems never to have had compassion, or he would have been sensible that he had a Soul; the other is so trans­ported with his Tunes, that he would forcibly ap­ply them to the Matters in hand. Now we can collect Harmony from the distance of sounds; the setting of which notes in due proportion pro­duces also variety of Tunes: But, what Musick the posture of the Limbs, and the shape of the Body destitute of a Soul, can produce, I compre­hend not. He would do well therefore, Scholar as he is, to leave these Matters to his Master Ari­stotle, and content himself with teaching to Fiddle. For that is good direction which is given in the Greek Proverb.

But turn we quite out of doors that casual con­course of smooth and round Bodies; which yet Democritus would have to conceive heat and be­come spiritous, that is, having Life. Now the Soul in this case, (which if it consists of any of the four Elements, whereof all things are said to be compounded, hath for its ingredients inflam'd Air, to which opinion Panaetius was most inclinable) [Page 33] must mount upwards; for these two Elements have nothing in them tending downward, but al­wayes ascend so, whether they scatter in the Air; it must be far from falling to the Earth; or, whe­ther they continue, and subsist in a separate Estate, they must of more necessity mount up to Heaven, forcing their passage through this gross and impure Air, which is nearest the Earth; for the Soul is hotter, or rather more fiery than is this Air, which I just now call'd gross and impure.

SECT. XIX. But ascend the Sky.

AND that it is so, is demonstrable from this, that our Bodies compounded of the terrene sort of Principles, do yet conceive warmth from the heat of the Soul. The probability is further improv'd of our Souls breaking thorough, and sur­mounting this aiery Region with the more ease, because nothing is swifter then thought. No speed may compare with the speed of the Soul; which if it continue entire and like it self, must of neces­sity pass with such a quick motion, as to pierce and divide all these lower Regions of Heaven, wherein Clouds, Rains, and Winds are engendred, which is moist and dark, with Exhalations from the Earth; which Atmosphear, when the Soul hath transcendéd, and finds that she is arriv'd at a nature like her self, consisting of a refin'd Air, and gentle heat of the Sun, she fixeth in the Empirean Orb, and stayes her further ascent; for having [Page 34] now gotten a lightness and heat agreeable to her self, as hanging ballanc'd in an equal counter­poise, she moves neither way, but this is her natu­ral home, when she hath arriv'd at her own likeness; where she shall want nothing but be nourish'd and su­stain'd with the same Food, wherewith the Stars are nourish'd and sustain'd: and whereas we are here wont through the Lusts of our flesh, to be enflam'd to almost all sorts of concupiscence, and to be so much the more fir'd, because we emulate those who are in possession of those Goods which we pursue. Doubtless, blessed shall we be, when di­vested of these Bodies, we shall with them have put off their craving desires, and fond Emulations. Now as it fareth with us here, when releas'd from cares, we love to recreate our selves in beholding some moral Divertisements, or other pleasing sights; we shall have then much more liberty to attend to it (d) and shall lay out our selves wholly in contemplating the wonderful Effects of Nature, and discerning their Causes; both be­cause our minds have naturally unplanted in them, an insatiable longing to come at the sight of Truth: And because the very Borders of those heavenly places, at which we shall have arriv'd, as by their proxi­mity they will furnish greater advantages, as the discovery of the celestial Bodies, with their mo­tions; so will they accordingly excite in us a more ardent desire, to enquire after them. For it was this beautiful order which put our Fathers and Grand-fathers even here on Earth (as Theophrastus saith) upon Philosophy, and inflam'd them with a desire of Knowledge; but they shall with more inlarged Faculties and satisfaction, comprehend them; who while here upon Earth, however they were invelopped in thick mists of Obscurity; [Page 35] yet by the piercing sight of a clear mind, endea­voured to descry them.

SECT. XX. And thence contemplate Nature.

NOW if they fancy themselves to have got some advantage, who have seen the Mouth of the Black-Sea, and those Streights, through which the Galley enter'd, which was nam'd

And those also who have seen the Streights mouth, where the swift current Libya and Europe parts.

What a rare sight do we think it will be, when we may see the whole Earth at one view? and as its Situation, Form, Circuit; so both its Country's [Page 36] habitable; and those again utterly uninhabitable, through excess of cold or heat? For we do not at present behold with our eyes the things we do see. Since there is no sense in the Body; but, as not only Natu­ralists inform, but also Physitians, who in Dissecti­ons have seen and examin'd the several parts, there are certain open passages bored from the Seat of the Soul, to the Eyes, to the Ears, and to the No­strils; whence oftentimes either being deep in Medita­tion, or seiz'd with some violent Distemper, though our eyes and eares be both sound and open, we can neither see nor hear with them. So that it is very apparent, that it is the Soul which both sees and hears, and not those parts which are but as it were the Case­ments of the Soul; with which yet it can perceive nothing, unless it be mindful and attentive. It is further observable, that with the same mind we comprehend objects of a most different Nature, as colour, taste, heat, scent, and sound; which the Soul could never distinguish from the report of five Mes­sengers, unless all were committed to her, that she alone might be judge of all. And in truth those things will be seen much more clearly and transparently, when the Soul shall get free to the place whither Nature is bound; for at present, however Nature hath fram'd those overtures, which are a tho­rough-fair from the Body to the Soul, after a most curious and artificial manner; yet are they in a sort, obstructed by gross and impure Matter; but, when the Soul shall he by her self, nothing shall interpose to hinder her from discerning every object, according to its proper Nature.

SECT. XXI. That the Epicureans who plead for Annihila­tion, have no such reason to triumph in their Scheme of natural Knowledge improv'd.

WE could sufficiently dilate upon this Sub­ject, if the Matter requir'd it, how many, how different, how great entertainments of the Sight, the Soul should find in the heavenly places. The Consideration of which, makes me often ad­mire at the strange Vanity of some Philosophers, who magnifie their knowledge of Nature, and in great Extasies of Joy, offer up thanks to him that first invented and revealed it, worshipping him as a God: For by his means they pretend themselves freed from the most insupportable Lords, everlast­ing Terror, and apprehension day and night. What Terror? What Apprehension? Is there any old Good-wife so doting, as to fear those things which you see now, had you not learn'd the Scheme of natural Philosophy, you should have fear'd?

Is it not a shame for a Philosopher to glory, that he is got above these fears, and that he knows them to be but Fables? By which it appears what profound natural Parts these men have, who should have believ'd such Stories, if they had not been [Page 38] bred up to Learning. A great prize too, they have got by this Learning; that when they come to dye, they are to perish Soul and Body. Which admit to be true (for I am not contentious) what great matter of joy or boasting doth the Doctrine afford? Though, to speak truth, I cannot find any considerable Objection against the opinion of Py­thagoras and Plato; for had Plato alledged no rea­son for it (see what deference I have to his Person) he would have dash'd me with his bare Authority; but now he hath back'd his Judgment with so many Reasons, that he seems to me, to have endeavour­ed to make others to be so, but himself truly to have been of the perswasion.

SECT. XXII. An immaterial Substance, though invisible, may subsist of it self, as God, so the Soul.

YET many stubborn Opponents there are, who pass Sentence of Death upon Souls, as Ca­pital Malefactors. Nor have they other ground, upon which they derogate credit from the Eter­nity of Souls, but only this, that they cannot fancy nor comprehend what should be the nature of a Soul separate from the Body; as if they un­derstood what were the nature of it, when united to it; what fashion, what size, what place it takes up. So that were man a Creature, who might be look'd into, and all his inward Parts discover'd, whether would the Soul be visible, or for its ex­traordinary subtilty escape the sight. These things [Page 39] they would do well to consider, who say, they cannot conceive what a Soul should be without a Body; they will find what Conception they have of it, now it is in the Body. For my part, when I look closely into the nature of the Soul, it seems a far more difficult and obscure Speculation, what the Soul should be, when confin'd to this Body, as in a strange House, then what it should be, when it is escap'd and arriv'd at the open Heaven, as its own home; For unless we can conceive the na­ture of a thing which we never saw, neither can we ap­prehend the Being of God, who is an incorporeal Spirit. Dicaearchus and Aristoxenus, because the Nature and likeness of a So [...] were hard to be understood, plainly deny'd the [...]ry being of it. Indeed it is one of the hardest Operations, for the Soul, by a reflex act, to behold the Soul. And this was the true meaning of Apollo, in that Precept, wherein he enjoyns man to know himself. For I do not take, that he means we should know our Limbs, how tall we are, or of what shape; nor indeed are our Bodies our selves, and what I now speak to you, I do not address to your Body. When therefore, he saith, know your self, he means, know your Soul; for the Body is but the Case and Cabinet of the Soul. Whatever Actions are perform'd by your Soul, are your Actions. Therefore to know thee, unless it had been of some Divine Import, it would not so far have pass'd for the Invention of some profound Wit, so as to have been father'd upon a God, requiring no greater Ability, than to know ones self. But though the Soul should not attain to know what is the Nature of the Soul; pray sa­tisfie me, can it not know its Being? can it not be sensible of its Motion? from whence arose that Argument of Plato, press'd by Socrates in the Dia­logue [Page 40] stil'd Phaedrus, and quoted by me in my sixth Book of Politicks.

SECT. XXIII. Arguments for the Immortality of the Soul, from its inward Motion.

WHat always moveth, is eternal; but what im­parts motion to another, and what is acted by another, when it comes to an end of motion, must also come to an end of life. That only therefore which moves it self, because it is never deserted of it self, neither doth it ever cease moving; nay, this is the Spring, this the Principle of Motion, to other things which are mov'd. Now a Principle hath no precedent source of being, for all things arise from their Principle, but it can spring from no other thing; for so it would cease to be a Prin­ciple, if it were begotten of any thing else; but if it be never generated, neither will it ever corrupt; for a Principle abolish'd, can neither arise again from another, nor can it produce any other thing from it self; for all things must necessarily arise from their Principle; so cometh it about, that the Principle of Motion, must be at that which moveth it self; now that can neither be born, nor dye; or else all Heaven would tumble down, and the whole frame of Nature stop its course; nor have any Mover, by whose first impression it should be set on Motion. It being therefore plain, that what moves it self, is eternal, who can deny the Nature of Souls to be such; for whatsoever is stir'd by a foreign Impression, is inanimate; but every Animal is quickened by an in­ward Motion, and of its own; for that is the proper [Page 41] Nature and Power of the Soul; which if it be the only of all Substances, that alwayes moves it self; neither was it in truth ever born, and is eternal.

Let all the petty Philosophers (for so should they be call'd, in my opinion, who differ from Plato and Socrates, and that Family) let them come in to assist one another; they will not only never ex­press any thing so neatly, but also never be able to discern where the stress of the Argument lyes. (e) The Soul therefore is sensible that it moves, and is withall sensible that it moves by its own, and no foreign Impulse; and that it can never be, that it should fail it self, from whence its Eternity is concluded, unless you have any reply to offer.

S. I indeed, am well contented, to admit in­to my thought, no matter of questioning it, I have such a favour for that Opinion.

SECT. XXIV. From the capaciousness of its memory.

WHat do you think of these other Instances? Take you them to be of less moment? which manifest that there is somewhat Divine in the Souls of men; which could I perceive how they could have been born, I might also compre­hend how they should dye. For as to the Blood, Choler, Phlegm, Bones, Sinews, Veins, in a word, all the mould of the Limbs, and of the whole Body, methinks I could account for them, whereof they are compounded, and how they were form'd from the Soul it self, if there accru'd no other advantage, but that we liv'd by it; I should think the Life of man as much supported by Nature, as that of a Vine or other Plant; for we say, that they also live. Again, if the Soul of man had no other, Faculties, than those of desiring and avoiding; that too it would have in common with the Beasts. For the first instance, it hath memory, and that infinite, of innumerable things; (f) so that Plato would have it to be the re­calling to mind what was known in a former Life. For in that Book which is entitled Menon, Socrates asks a certain Youngster some Geometrical que­stions, about the content of a Square: He answers them, as a Child; and yet the Interrogatories are so easie, that the answer proceeding, step by step, cometh at length to that pass, as if he had learn'd Mathematicks; from which Socrates would con­clude, that to learn, is nothing else, but to refresh [Page 43] the Memory. Which Topick he explains much more accurately; yet in that Dialogue which he held, the very day wherein he submitted to the Execution of the Sentence pass'd upon his Life; wherein he teaches, that any one, let him seem utterly illiterate and unexperienc'd, if he answer directly to one that puts apt questions to him, doth make it manifest, that he doth not then learn those Matters anew, but only recollect what he had before in his memory. And that it were wholly impossible for us to have the Notions, which the Greeks call common, of so many, and so great things, from our Childhood imprinted, and as it were registred in our Souls, unless the Soul before it entred the Body, had been employ'd in under­standing the World. And if it had been nothing, as is in all places disputed by Plato (for he thinks that to be nothing, which cometh by Generation, and turns to Corruption, and that only to have being, which is such always as he calls his Idea, we the Species or Kind) the Soul after it was locked up in the Body could not come to understand them, therefore it brought the knowledge of them with it hither; by which means all admiration of our knowing so many things ceases. Nor doth the Soul discern them on the sudden, after she is remov'd into such a strange and confus'd habitation, till she hath re­collected and recruited her self, for then she recovers those dormant notices, by remembrance of them; so that Learning is nothing else, than a recalling to mind. Now I must confess, I do after an extraordinary manner, admire the memory; what is that fa­culty, whereby we remember? what is its force? or whence its nature? I do not demand about such a memory, as Simonides is said to have had; such as Theodectes; such as he who was sent Am­bassador [Page 44] from Pyrrhus, to the Senate Cynaeas; such as Charmidas lately; such as in these times, the Scepsian Metrodorus; such as our Friend Hortensius. I speak of the common memory of men, and those especially who are train'd up in any considerable Business or Art; the compass of whose mind, it is hard to estimate, so many things do they remember.

SECT. XXV. Corollaries of the former Argument, from that of Invention.

WHither now tends this whole Discourse? I think it would be understood what is this force, and whence it is: Certainly it proceeds not from the Heart, nor Blood, nor Brains, nor Atomes. Whether the Soul be Breath or Fire, I know not; nor am I asham'd, as some others are, to confess I do not know, what I do not. But this I can affirm, as much as of any thing else that is obscure, be the Soul Breath, or be it Fire, I durst be depos'd it is Divine; for, I beseech you now, can [Page 45] you imagine that so great an ability of memory can be produc'd or compounded of Earth, or this gross Region of Air? You do not see what is its Nature: But what are its Qualities, you do see; or if you do not that neither, what is its quantity, to be sure you do see. How then do we conceive of it? whether do we think there is any concavity, into which, as into a Fat, we turn up the things which we remember? that is absurd: For what bottom, or what such Figure of the Soul can be imagin'd? or what Gage of so large a Size? Or do we take the Soul to be imprest as Wax, and the Memory for the Prints of things set down in the Mind, as in a Table-book? What Prints can there be of Words? what of the things themselves? Lastly, what Volum so vast, as to represent such numerous Nations? What think you should that Power be, which brings to light useful Secrets, which is call'd Invention, or Devising? or that it can be compounded of this earthly, mortal and frail Nature? What judge you of him, who the first impos'd names on all things, which Pythagoras reckons a Work of the highest Wisdom? or who drew scatter'd men into Communities, and incorporated them for the mu­tual Support of Life? or who couch'd the Sounds of the Voice, which seem'd infinite, into the marks of a few Letters? or who calculated the Courses, Progressions, Stations of the Planets. All of them were great Personages. Those of higher Anti­quity yet, who found out Corn, who Cloathing, who Houses, who the helps of living handsomly, who guards against wild Beasts; by whom being ci­viliz'd and reclaim'd, we naturally proceeded from the necessary, to the more polite Arts? for entertainment of the Ears, was in great measure found out and temper'd, with variety of Notes and Voices. We [Page 46] look'd up even to the Stars; both those which are fix'd at certain distances, and those also which are not so in reality, but in name, only wandring Stars. All the motions and windings of which, the Soul, that first observ'd, gave at the same time proof, that it was like him who had fashion'd them in Heaven. For when Archimedes lock'd up the mo­tions of Sun, Moon, and the five other Planets, into his Sphear, he brought that to pass, which the God that in Timaeus, built the World, that one Re­volution should adjust motions most unlike for speed and slowness. Which if it cannot be wrought in this World without God, neither could Archimedes in his Sphear, have imitated the same Motions, without a Divine Wit.

SECT. XXVI. From further Endowments.

IN my judgment, I must say, even these more familiar and illustrious Instances, seem not performable, without some Divine Power: so as I should think that either a Poet pours out a grave and accomplish'd Poem, without some hea­venly Instinct of the Mind; or that any Eloquence, without some extraordinary impulse, can flow in a mighty Stream of lofty Words, and copious Sen­tences. And for Philosophy, the Mother of all Arts, what is it else; but, as Plato saith, the Gift, as I the Invention of the Gods? This first train'd us up to their Worship; next, to Justice towards men, which consists in the Preservation of Societies: [Page 47] And lastly to Moderation and Courage, this also hath dispell'd the darkness from our Souls, as from our Eyes, that we can behold the Extremities of Nature; what is above, below, first, midst, last. Truly this Power seems to me to be Divine, which can work so many, and so admirable Effects. For what is Memory of things and words? What is Inventi­on? Certainly such, as no greater Perfections can be apprehended to be in God. Now, I am not of the mind, that the Gods take pleasure in Feast­ing on Nectar and Ambrosia, or in a Goddess of everlasting Youth, to bear their Cups: Nor do I believe Homer, who saith, that Ganymede was ra­vish'd by the Gods, for his Beauty, to fill Jupiter Drink; a Cause no way sufficient, why such an injury should be offer'd Laomedon. This was a meer Fiction of Homer's, who made Gods like men; I could have wish'd, he had rather made men like Gods. Wherein like Gods? in Activity, Wisdom, Invention, Memory. Therefore, the Soul, which, as I say, is Divine; as Euripides pre­sumes to say, is a God; truly if God be either Spirit, or Fire, the same is mans Soul; for as that heavenly Nature is free both from Earth and moisture; so the humane Soul partakes of neither of them. But if it be a fifth Nature, first intro­duc'd by Aristotle; the same is common both to the Soul and God. Pursuant to which opinion, we thus express'd our selves word for word, in our Book of Consolation.

SECT. XXVII. From its Divine Original.

ORiginal of Souls, none can be found here on Earth, for there is no mixture or composition in Souls, nor any appearance that they were born or moulded; nothing of Water, Wind, or Fire, for in these Natures there is nothing which hath a Power of Memory, Understand­ing, or Thought, which can both retain what is past, foresee what is to come, and comprehend what is present, which are Divine Properties; nor will it ever be made out, whence they could be deriv'd upon man, but from God. There is then a peculiar Nature and Power of the Soul, distant from these visible and known Na­tures. Whatever therefore is that Principle which hath Sense, which hath Wisdom, which hath Will, which hath Activity, it is Celestial and Divine, and there­fore, must of necessity be eternal. Nor in truth can God himself, as he is understood of us, be otherwise appre­hended, than as a Spirit uncontroul'd and free, separate from all mortal Contagion, perceiving all things, and moving all things, and being it self endu'd with ever­lasting Motion.

SECT. XXVIII. From its Faculties.

THE Spirit of man is of this lineage, and of the same Nature. Where therefore, or of what likeness is that Spirit? Where is yours, or of what likeness? Can you resolve me? If I am not able to understand all things, which I wish I were able to do, will you not allow to make use of such Abilities as I have? The Soul hath not that Power, as to see its self; but the Soul as the Eye, though it see not it self, beholds other things. It sees not what is of small import, its own form. Per­haps so, though as to that—but forbear we it. It sees to be sure its Power, Pregnancy, Memory, Motion, Quickness; these are great, these are divine, these are everlasting Excellencies. What shape it is of, or where it dwells, is not to be in­quir'd: As when we see first the face and bright­ness of Heaven; then so great a swiftness of Cir­cumvolution, as we cannot conceive: Next, the Succession of days and nights, and four-fold alter­ation of Seasons, fitted to the ripening of Corn, and temperature of Bodies: Then the Sun, Captain and Ruler over all these; as also the Moon, which by her waxing and waning, doth distinguish, and as it were, point at the days of the Kalendar: Further, that in the same Orb, divided into twelve parts, the other five Planets do move, keeping constantly their proper Periods, though unequal to one another; and withall, the lustre of the Fir [Page 50] mament, on all parts bespangled with Stars, then the Globe of the Earth standing above the Sea, fix'd in the middle of the Universe, inhabited and peopled in two distant Regions; the one of which, where we dwell, is plac'd under the Pole, by the Northern Bear, whence.

The other is Southern, unknown to us which the Greeks call under the opposite Pole; (g) the re­maining three parts are uninhabited, as being either starv'd with cold, or scorch'd with heat; (h) but here, where we inhabit, without failure.

Furthermore, the multitude of Cattle, some for Food, some for Agriculture, some for Carriage, some for Cloathing; and man himself, as it were, Contemplator of Heaven, and the Gods, and Worshipper of them; but all Lands and Seas sub­servient to Mans use.

SECT. XXIX. From its Nature.

WHEN we behold therefore these, and in­numerable other things, can we doubt, but that there presides over this frame, either the maker, if these things were produc'd, as is the judgment of Plato; or if they were from Eternity, as is the opinion of Aristotle, a directer of so great a Work and Administration? Thus the mind of man, although you see it not, as you do not see God, yet as you acknowledge God from his Works, so from the memory of things, and invention and swiftness of motion, and the whole beauty of Ver­tue, acknowledge the Divine Power of the mind. In what place then is it? I take it to be in the head. And why take it to be there? I can give my reason, but at another time. Now for where the Soul should be? To be sure 'tis within you. What is its Nature? Proper I think, and by it self. But suppose it of Fire; suppose it of Breath, that im­ports nothing to the matter in hand: Only look to this, that as you know God, although you are ignorant both of his place and shape, so ought your Soul to be known to you, although you are ignorant both of its place and form. Now in the knowledge of the Soul, we can no ways doubt of this, unless we be meer Dunces in natural Philo­sophy, that there should be any mixture in Souls, any composition, any conjunction, any cementing, any thing double; which so being, neither can it be separated [Page 52] nor divided, nor torn, nor drawn asunder, nor, by consequent, dye; for death is as it were a Depar­ture, a Separation, and Dis­union of those parts which before death were held together by some common tye. By these and the like Reasons, So­crates being mov'd, neither sought to an advocate in the Tryal for his Life, nor petition'd his Judges, but demean'd himself with an unconcern'd stoutness, de­riv'd not from the bravery of his Spirit, not from Pride. And on the last day of his Life discours'd much on this very Subject; and a few days before, (i) when he might easily have been released out of Prison, would not. And when he was ready to take that deadly potion into his hand, spoke after such man­ner, as that he seem'd not driven to Death, but ascending up to Heaven.

SECT. XXX. From the Authority of Socrates and Cato.

FOR thus he maintain'd, and thus he argued. There are two ways, and a double Post-road for Souls, when they go out of the Body. For they who had polluted themselves with the Vices of the [Page 53] World, and abandon'd themselves wholly to Lusts, with which being blinded, they had defil'd them­selves, as it were with Hereditary Family Vices, and Scandals, or had committed inexpiable Vil­lanies in the overthrow of the State, that these were carried in a By-road, debarred from the blessed Assembly of the Gods. But those who had kept themselves pure and uncorrupt, and had contracted least infection from their Bodies, but had alwayes drawn themselves into retirement from them, and in humane Bodies had imitated the life of God, that such had an easie and open return to those from whom they came; and then he recounts how Swans, which are not without reason, dedicated to Apollo; but because they seem to have the Gift of Divination from him, by which foreseeing what benefit there is in death, they dye with Melody and Pleasure, so should all good and learned men do. Nor could any one doubt of this, unless it fared with us, when we think ear­nestly about our Souls, as it is wont to do with those that gaze stedfastly upon the Sun in Eclipse, that they quite lose their sight; so the eye of the mind, looking nearly into it self, is sometimes dazled; and by that very means we let go the in­tenseness of Contemplation. Therefore our whole discourse upon the Subject, proceeds with suspence, viewing round the Coast, demurring, crusing for­ward and backward, as a small Pinnace beats about in the vast Ocean. But these are old Instances, and fetch'd from the Greeks. Now Cato of late, so parted with life, as that he was glad he had got­ten an occasion of dying. For that Vicegerent of God, which Rules within us, lays a strict Injun­ction, not to depart hence without his leave: But when God himself shall give a just Cause, as he did [Page 54] Socrates then, Cato now, and many often; then truly will the Wise man joyfully escape out of this darkness, into the light. Nor yet will he break Prison, for the Laws defend that; but be­ing so discharg'd and dismiss'd by God, as by a Magistrate, or lawful Authority, he will depart. For the whole Life of Philosophy, as the same Author saith, is a Meditation of Death.

CHAP. XXXI. From the Sequestring it self from the Body, in Meditation as in Death.

NOW what else do we, when we call of our mind from following Pleasure, that is, the Body? from minding our Estate, that is, the Ser­vant of the Body? when we withdraw it from managing State-Affairs, and all business? What, say I, do we then, but call the Soul home, oblige it to dwell within it self, and draw it to the far­thest distance from the Body? Now to abstract the Soul from the Body, is nothing else than to exercise dy­ing. Wherefore, take my word, let us practise this, and sit loose from our Bodies, that is, ac­custom our selves to dye. This, both whilst we shall be on Earth, will be like the Life of Heaven; and when being set at liberty from these Bonds, we shall ascend thither; by this means the agility of our Souls will be less clog'd. For they who have always been held fast bound in the Fetters of the Body, even when they are knock'd off, tread more gently, as they who have been many years loaded with Irons. [Page 55] But when we shall come thither, then shall we live in truth, for this Life is but a Death; which, if I were so disposed, I could lament.

That you have enough lamented, (k) in your Book of Consolation; which when I read, I desire nothing more, than to leave this World; but upon hearing the present Discourse, I am much more desirous to do so.

The time will come, and that speedily, and that, whether you draw back or hasten; for Life is upon the Wing; but Death is so far from being an Evil, as you lately thought; that I doubt whether any thing else be, I say not, no evil; but any thing else be a greater good; for we shall be either Gods, or with the Gods.

What availeth it? for there are many among us, that give no credit to these things.

Now will I never, in this debate, part with you on such Terms, as that you should be of opinion, that death is evil.

How can I, now I have been thus inform'd?

How can you, do you ask? there will come upon you whole troops of Gain-sayers; and those not only Epicureans, whom for my part I do not despise, though best Scholars generally do con­temn: But my dear Dicaearchus hath most earnest­ly disputed against this immortality of Souls; for he wrote three Books call'd Lesbian, because the debate was held at Mitylenae, wherein he would prove that Souls are Mortal; the Stoics (l) they prorogue us, as Crows, to a late day of Death; for they allow Souls to abide long, but not for ever.

SECT. XXXII. The Adversaries of the Souls Immortality con­futed.

HAVE you a mind therefore, to hear how, though it should be so; yet there is no evil in Death?

Use your pleasure; but no one shall ever beat me out of Immortality.

I commend you for that; but it is good, not to be too confident; for we often give upon some sub­tle Argument; are shaken, and change our Judgment, even in clearer Matters, for there is some obscurity in these. Therefore, if such a rencounter should hap­pen, let us be arm'd.

Well advis'd, but I will watch that it may not happen.

Have you then any thing to alledge, why we should not dismiss our Friends the Stoics; those, I mean, (m) who allow that Souls abide after they are gone out of the Body, but not always?

Ay, those Gentlemen who maintain that which is most difficult in this whole dispute, that the Soul may subsist in a separate condition; but do not yield that which is not only easie to be be­liev'd, but consequent upon that which they have granted; that the Soul, after it hath long surviv'd, should not at all dye.

You rightly reprove them. Should we then believe Panaetius, dissenting from his Master Plato. Him that in all places he calls the Divine, the Wisest, the Holiest, (n) the Homer of the Philo­sophers; yet this only Tenet of his, about the Im­mortality of the Soul, he doth not approve; for he affirms, what no body denies, that whatsoever is born dyes; but Souls are born, as the likeness of Children, to their Parents, makes evident, which appears in their Wits also, nor only in their Bodies. He brings another Argument for it. Nothing suffers pain, but what may also be sick, and what is lia­ble to disease, that must dye; but Souls suffer pain, they therefore must dye.

SECT. XXXIII. The Arguments of Panaetius answered.

THESE Reasons may be disprov'd, for they proceed from ignorance, that when there is speech about the Eternity of Souls, it is meant of the Understanding, which is always free from any turbulent Motion; not of those parts wherein Passions, Wrath, and Lusts inhabit; which (o) he, against whom these Objections are raised, sup­poseth remov'd from the Understanding, and lodg'd in distinct Apartments. For likeness, more appeareth in Beasts, whose Souls have no reason. But the likeness of men, is more visible in the shape of their Bodies; and the Souls themselves, it much imports, in what kind of Body they be lodg'd; for there proceed many Impressions from the Body, which quicken the understanding, many which dull it. (p) Aristotle indeed saith, that all ingenious men are of a me­lancholly Complexion; so that I have the less reason to be troubled, that I am none of the quick­est. And, as if the Problem were agreed upon, subjoyns a reason, why it cometh to be so. Now if there be such great influence, see the Production in the Body, upon the habit of the Mind (and these, whatever they be, are all that maketh the likeness) the likeness of Soul, infers no necessity, why it should be born. To pass likeness, would Panaetius could be present; he liv'd with Africanus, I would enquire of him, whom of all his Kindred, was Africanus's Brother's Grandson like? In shape, [Page 59] his very Father; in life, so like any Villain, that he was by far, the basest of all. Like to whom too, was the Grandchild of P. Crassus, both a wise and eloquent man; as also the Sons and Grand­sons of many other excellent Personages, whom it is no ways material to name on this occasion? But what drive we at? have we forgot that this is the Scope of our present discourse, after we had spoken sufficiently upon Eternity; further to prove that there is no evil in death, though Souls were also to be extinct.

True, I minded it, but all the while you were discoursing upon Eternity, was willing you should run on wide of the Point in hand.

SECT. XXXIV. Upon Supposition of the Souls mortality, death is not evil, being a departure from evils.

YOU look high, I see; and would fain be removing to Heaven: I hope that will be our portion; but suppose, as those Gentlemen would have it to be, that Souls do not remain af­ter death; I see we are cut off from the hopes of a more blessed Life, but what evil doth that opi­nion import? Suppose the Soul so to perish, as [Page 60] the Body, is there then any pain, or indeed any sense at all in the Body after death? No body saith so; although Epicurus chargeth that on De­mocritus, his Followers deny it; neither is there any sense therefore left in the Soul; for that it self is no where; where then is the Evil; for there is no third Subject; is it because the parting of the Soul from the Body, passeth not without pain? Should I believe it to be so, how small a business is that? and I take it to be untrue, for it happens fre­quently without Sense, nay sometimes with Pleasure. And that whole concern, make the most of it, is of small import, for it indureth but a Moment. That consideration perplexeth, or rather torments, a de­parture from all those things which are good in this Life. Look whether it may not more truly be said from the Evils thereof. Why should I now bewail mans Life? I might truly, and have title to do so; but what needs it, when I am labouring to take off the opinion, that we shall be miserable after death, to make even Life more miserable, by bemoan­ing it? We have done this in that Book wherein we comforted our selves, as much as we could. Therefore, to state the question aright, Death withdraws us from Evils, not from Goods. This Point was so largely debated by Hegesias the Cyre­naick, that he is reported to have been prohibited by King Ptolomy, to dispute publickly on that Sub­ject, because many upon the hearing it, made themselves away. Callimachus hath an Epigram upon Cleombrotus the Ambraciote; who, saith he, had no misfortune befell him; but upon reading Plato's Dialogue, threw himself from the Wall in­to the Sea. And that Hegesias, whom I mention'd, left a Book, entitled, The resolv'd Passenger; because one departing out of Life, by forbearing to eat, [Page 61] is disswaded by his Friends, whom he answers, by reckoning up the Miseries of man's Life. I could do the like, though not to that degree as he, who thinks it expedient for none at all to live. Others I wave. Is it expedient for us to do so, who being strip'd of the Comforts and Ornaments both of Fa­mily and Court; had we dy'd before, Death had most assuredly remov'd us from Evils, and not from Goods.

SECT. XXXV. Or from uncertain Goods.

SUppose we then, one that has no Evil, hath met with some misfortune; (q) Metellus the Honourable had four Sons; Ay, but Priam had fifty, and seventeen of them born of his lawful Wife. Fortune had the same power over both, though she made use of it only upon one; for many Sons, Daughters, Grandsons, Grand-daugh­ters, laid Metellus in the Grave: but the hand of an Enemy slew Priam before the Altar, where he had taken Sanctuary, after the loss of so numerous a Progeny. Had he been deceas'd, whilst his Children surviv'd, the State of the Empire con­tinu'd firm.

Resolve me whither he had departed from Goods or Evils? from Goods, he would at that time have [Page 62] thought. But in truth it had fallen out better for him, nor had that Ditty been sung to so la­mentable a Tune.

As if at that time any thing could have befallen him, better than Death. Now had he been taken away before, he had escap'd those Evils; but being so at this time, he lost the Sense of them. Our Friend Pompey, after a sore Sickness at Naples, was pretty well recover'd; the Neapolitans put on Garlands; so did the Burgers of Puteoli, no doubt. The ad­jacent Towns deputed Members of their own to congratulate him in the Name of their Corpora­tions; a formal piece of insignificant Courtship, to say truth, and like the Greeks, but yet successful. Pray then inform me, if he had at that time dy'd, would he have been taken away from good or evil things? To be sure he had from unhappy ones; for then would he not have been engag'd in a War with his Father-in-law; he would not have taken up Arms, without any Preparation; he would not have left home; not fled out of Italy; he had not, after the loss of his Army, fallen naked into the hands and Poignard of Slaves; his Children had not been left in a deplorable condition, and all his Fortunes possess'd by the Conqueror. He that by departing then, had dy'd in a most honourable Estate, by prolonging his Life, how many, great, and incredible Calamities did he suffer?

SECT. XXXVI. Such as we shall not miss.

THESE accidents are escap'd by dying, al­though they never actually befall us, yet because of their possibility: But men do not con­sider themselves liable to these chances; every one hopes for Metellus's Fortune: As though either there were more fortunate than unhappy; or there were any certainty in man's Estate; or it were more prudent to hope than fear. But be this granted, that men are depriv'd of their good things, by death, is it there­fore consequent, that the Dead lack the Conveni­encies of Life, and that it is a miserable thing so to do? To be sure they must say so. Can he that hath no Being, be in want of any thing? the very name of want is sad, because it imports thus much. The man had something, hath it not; desireth, looketh after, needeth it. These are, I take it, the Inconveniencies of want. One wants Eyes; to be blind is discomfortable: Another Children; so is it to be Childless. This holds in the Living; but none of the Dead want any comforts of Life; [Page 64] no, nor Life it self. I speak of the Dead, which have no Being; we who have a Being, though we are without Horns or Wings, would any one of us say he wanted them? None, I trow. For if one have not that which is neither for his use, nor agreeable to his Nature; he doth not want it, though he is sensible he hath it not. This Argument is to be urged over and over, when that is made out, which is unquestionable upon supposition of the Souls mortality; but that there is so total an Abolition in death, as that there is not left the least Suspition of any Sense. This therefore being fully resolv'd, it must be strictly search'd, to find what it is to want, that so there be no ambiguity left in the Term. Want therefore, is the being without that, which one desireth to have; for desire is imply'd in missing, unless in such case, as when we speak of having miss'd the Fit of an Ague, in a more re­strain'd notion of the word. The term of wanting is farther used in another Sense, when one is with­out a thing, and sensible that he is without it, and yet not much concern'd about it; but to want any evil, is not properly spoken, for that would import no sorrow for it. The opposite is properly said to want good, which is evil; but neither doth the Living want what he doth not need. Yet it may be understood, of a living man, that he wants a Kingdom; now this cannot, with any Logical Truth, be said of you; it might of Tarquin, when he was depos'd and banish'd from his Kingdom; but the term can by no means be understood of a dead man; for want is proper to one that hath Sense; but the Dead have no Sense; therefore neither do the Dead want. Though what need we syllogize on this Point; since we see the matter stands in no such great need of Logic?

SECT. XXXVII. Since it hath not appear'd dreadful, even to com­mon Soldiers.

HOW often have, not only our Commanders, but whole Armies also charg'd the Enemy, without any probability of coming back alive? Had death been to be fear'd, (r) L. Brutus would never have hindered the return of that Tyrant, which himself had expell'd, by losing his Life in the Engagement. Nor would Decius the Father in Battle with the Latins, the Son of the Hetrurians, and Grandson with Pyrrhus, have run upon the Point of the Enemies Sword. Spain had not seen the two Scipio's in one War, fall for their Country; Cannae, Paulus Aemilius; Venusia, Marcellus; the La­tins, Albinus; the Lucanians, Gracchus; is any one of these at this day miserable? No, nor immedi­ately after they had expir'd; for none can be mi­serable, who is insensible. But that very thing is grievous, to be without Sense; grievous indeed, if one were to miss it. But it being notorious, that he can be nothing, who hath himself no Being; what can be grivous to him, who is without any thing; and hath no Sense that he is so? Although we have inculcated this Argument too often al­ready; but for this purpose, because all that distress of mind which ariseth from the apprehension of death, is grounded on this. For whosoever shall sufficiently perceive what is clearer than the light, that upon perishing of Body and Soul together, and the [Page 66] whole living Creature being destroy'd, and an utter Abolition made of the entire compound; that Animal which was before, is annihilated; he will clearly discern, that there is no difference be­tween a flying Horse, which never was, and King Agamemnon: And that M. Camillus doth now no more regard this Civil War, than I did the taking of Rome when he was alive. Why then would both Camillus have griev'd, had he thought these things would have come to pass about three hun­dred and fifty years after; and should I grieve, if I thought any Foreign Nation would be Masters of our City ten thousand years hence? Because the dearness of our Country is so great, that we measure it, not by our Sense, but its own safety.

SECT. XXXVIII. Much less to hinder promoting the publick good. But as Death is not terrible, so neither is it amiable.

THerefore Death, which by reason of uncertain Ca­sualties, is daily imminent, and because Life so is short, can never be far off, doth not yet deter a wise man from providing for the State and his own Family for all future Ages; and from thinking that Posterity, though he shall have no Sense of it, is his concern. Upon which ground, he that is of the judgment, that the Soul is mortal, may yet lay de­signs for Eternity, not out of desire of glory, whereof he shall have no Sense, but of Vertue, which Glory ne­cessarily follows, though you make it not your aime. Now this is natural, that as our Birth giveth us an entrance into the business of this World, so Death should give our Exit from it. Which, as before our Birth, it nothing concern'd us, so neither shall it after Death. Herein what Evil can there be, since Death is the concern neither of the Living, nor the Dead; the latter cease to be, it attaches not the former. Those who speak in a slighting way of it, would have it near­est resemble a dead Sleep, as though any one would choose so to live to ninety years, as that when he had arriv'd at sixty, he should sleep the rest. Swine would not make such option, much [Page 68] less any man. But Endymion, if we will hearken to Fables, fell, I cannot tell when, a sleep in Latmos, which is a Mountain of Caria; and is not, I suppose, yet awake. Do you judge, therefore, that he regards when the Moon is eclips'd; for he is reputed to have been cast into a deep trance by her, that she might kiss him as he sleeps; re­gard it, how should he, when he is not sensible of it? You have sleep, the Image of Death; every day it cometh upon you; and do you make question, whe­ther there be Sense in Death, when you experi­ence there is none in its resemblance?

SECT. XXXIX. The opinion of untimely Death examin'd.

AWAY then with these Sayings, little better than fit for old Wives; that it is miserable to dye before ones time: What time, I pray? that of Nature? Now she hath lent Life, as Cash, at no day certain of payment prefix'd; what reason then have you to murmur, if she calls in her own when she pleaseth, since you receiv'd it upon that con­dition? The same Persons, if a Child dye young, think it ought to be born patiently, and if in the Cradle, without any complaint. Yet nature hath more rigorously exacted of him, her Loan. He had not as yet, say they, tasted the sweets of Life; but this other had entertain'd great expectations, and had already begun the enjoyment of them. Now in all other benefits, the very having get some share, is counted better than to get none at all. Why should it [Page 69] be otherwise in Life? However, Callimachus, say not unhandsomly, that Priam wept much oftner than Troilus. But their fortune is commended, who dye of Age. Why? because, I warrant, had their life been longer, it could not have been so plea­sant. Certainly nothing is so sweet to man; as Wisdom: Now though old Age impair us in other things, yet it improves us in that. But what Age is long? or indeed what can man long have? lately Children, and presently after Youths; doth not old Age, pursuing close behind, in the Race over­take us e're we are aware? But we count this long, because we have nothing further to proceed to. All these accounts pass for long or short, accor­ding to the proportion they bear, with the space allotted to each kind. By the mouth of the Hy­panis, which on the side of Europe, falleth into the Black-Sea; Aristotle reports certain Insects to be bred, that live but one day. Such therefore, of these, as dye at two in the Afternoon, dye elderly; but such, as at Sunset, very aged; and the more, if it be on the longest day in Summer. Compare our life, at longest, with Eternity; we shall be found, in a manner, as short-liv'd as are these Insects.

SECT. XL. We must live in our places undaunted, and when our time is come, dye contented, after the exam­ple of Theramenes.

DEspise we therefore, all Fooleries, (for what slighter name can I give this weakness?) And let us place the whole stress of living well in con­stancy and bravery of Spirit, and contempt of the World, and in the exercise of all Vertue. But now we break our Hearts with most unmanly thoughts, so that if Death come upon us, before we have met with the good luck read us by Fortune-tellers, we look upon our selves as mock'd, abus'd, and rob'd of some great Advantages. Whereas, if we are held in suspense, tormented and fretted with lin­gering Expectations: Good God! How chearfully should we enter upon that Journey, which being perform'd, there will be no further disquiet, nor anxiety of mind? How taking, and of what gallant Spirit is Thera­menes? for though we cannot choose but cry, when we read the Story, yet a brave man never dyeth pittifully. When he had been imprison'd, by or­der of the Council of State, consisting of thirty Tyrants, and had taken of the Poyson, in a hearty draught, as though he had been adry; the small remainder he so flung out of the Cup, as that it dash'd against the ground; then smiling, said, Here is to Critias the fair, who had been his most mortal Enemy. For it is the Grecian Mode, in their Feasts, to name whom they would have pledge them, [Page 71] This excellent Person broke a Jest with his parting breath; (s) and was a true Prophet of that death, which soon after overtook him who had been the occasion of his suffering by Poyson. Who could commend this indifferency of mind, at the very point of Death, if he judg'd death to be evil? A few years after, Socrates goeth into the same Prison, and to the same Cup, by the same perfidiousness of Judges, as Theramenes did of Tyrants. What, therefore, was that Speech which Plato maketh him to have made to the Judges, after his Condem­nation.

SECT. XLI. Socrates.

I AM in great hopes (saith he) that it will turn to my advantage, that I am put to death: For one of the two things must of necessity be, that death either quite takes away all Sense, or is a removal from this, into some other place. Wherefore, whether all Sense be ex­tinguish'd, and death be like that sleep, which sometimes giveth a most sweet rest, undisturb'd by Dreams; good God? what gain is it to dye? or how many days can be found, preferrible to such a night as the perpetual Duration of the following time shall present? Who then so happy as I? but if, what is said, be true, that death is a removal into those Coasts, which those, who are hence departed, inhabit, that is yet far more happy, when you have pass'd thorough pretended Judges, to come be­fore real ones, such as are Minos, Rhadamanthus, Aeacus, Triptolemus, and to consort with those who have liv'd justly, and with integrity. Can therefore this Journey seem to you unpleasant? But to confer with Orphaeus, Musaeus, Homer, Hesiod, at what rate would you purchase? For my part, if it were possible, I could be content to dye many times over, if I could find what I now mention. Then what incredible satisfaction would it be to me, when I should accost Palamedes, Ajax, and others, circumvented by the Sentence of cor­rupt Judges? Furthermore, I would sound the Wisdom of that Monarch, who led the numerous Army against Troy; of Ulysles, and of Sisyphus: nor should I, be­cause [Page 73] I made such enquiries, as here I have done, be therefore sentenc'd to dye. You then, my Lords, such as have voted me not guilty, never be afraid of Death; for no evil can befall any good man, either alive or dead; nor are his concerns ever dis-regarded by the Divine Pro­vidence; neither is this befallen me by blind chance; nor have I any reason to be offended at those by whom I was accus'd, or at those by whom I am condemn'd, save only this, that they intended my harm. These things I thus consider, and judge, that nothing could fall out better. But, saith he, it is time to depart hence, for me, that I may dye; for you, that ye may live; now, whither of these two be better, God above knows, but no man on Earth, I think, can tell.

SECT. XLII. The Spartans.

NOW had I rather have this gallant Spirit, than all their Fortunes who past Judgment upon him: though as to his disowning, that any, besides God, knows which is better: he knows it himself, for he hath told it before: but he retains to the last, that Principle of his, not to be positive in any thing. Now hold me this stedfastly, that nothing can be evil which is allotted all by Nature: And consider, that if death be Evil, it is an everlasting Evil; for of a miserable Life, Death seemeth to be the end: but if Death be miserable, there can be no end of the Misery. Now what do I mention Socrates, or Theramenes, men excelling in the Glory of Vertue and Wisdom; when (t) a certain Lace­demonian, [Page 74] whose name is not so much as Record­ed, did so much despise Death, as when he was condemn'd (u) by the Ephori, and led to Execu­tion upon looking chearfully, and with a merry Countenance, when a certain Enemy challeng'd him, and said, do you slight the Laws of Lycurgus? He answer'd, Nay, but I take my self to be much be­holden to him, who hath laid that Fine upon me, which I shall be able to pay, without either Loane, or taking up upon Interest. O Citizen worthy of Sparta! Inso­much as that he who suffer'd so bravely, seemeth to have been condemn'd unjustly. Innumerable such Instances hath our Government produc'd; but why name I Princes and Commanders, when Cato writes, that whole Legions have often march'd up with Alacrity, to the place from whence they never expected to return? with like Courage did the Lacedemonians fall (w) at Thermopylae; upon whom Simonides,

What saith the Captain General Leonidas? Good cheer! fall on my Lacedemonians, we may chance to Sup in the other World. That was a stout Na­tion, whilst the Laws of Lycurgus were in force. One of them, when another of the Persian Party, said in a vaporing way, We shall Eclipse the Sun, our flight of Arrows will be so thick; reply'd, Then we shall fight in the shade. I mention men; what was that Lacedemonian Dame, who having sent her Son to the Wars, and hearing that he was kill'd, said, To that end brought I him into the World, that there might be one who should be contented to dye for his Country.

SECT. XLIII. And Theodorus the Cyrenian. A Digression to the Point of Burial.

ALLOW all this; the Spartans were tough and sturdy, the Countries Discipline hath great influence. What say we of Theodorus the Cyrenian, no mean Philosopher? do we not ad­mire him? When King Lysimachus threatened he would Crucifie him; Use, saith he, those dreadful Menaces to these your Courtiers: Theodorus careth not whether he rot on ground, or in the Air. By which saying of his, I am put in mind that it were proper to speak somewhat here to the Point of Interment and Burial; a matter of no great diffi­culty, especially after those Informations of being insensible, which have been even now premis'd: [Page 76] What was Socrates Sense of the business, appeareth in a Dialogue, which relateth the manner of his death: about which we have already spoke so much; for having argued for the immortality of Souls, when the time of his dying press'd on, and he was ask'd by Crito, how he would be buried; Now much pains, saith he, have I laid out, Friends, to lit­tle purpose, for I have not perswaded our Companion Crito, that I shall fly away hence, and leave nothing of me here below. Nevertheless, Crito, if you can come at me, or shall find me any where, bury me, as you shall think fit: But believe me, when I shall have de­parted hence, none of you will reach me. An excellent reply, for he both left it to his Friend, and de­clar'd that he was upon the whole matter altoge­ther indifferent. Diogenes was more churlish; though of the same mind, yet like a Cynick more roughly bid them fling him out of doors, without any burying: What, say his Friends, to the Birds and Beasts? By no means, saith he, but lay my staff by me, that I may beat them away. How can you do that, an­swered they, when you shall have no feeling? Oh! I shall have no feeling; what harm then will the tearing of wild Beasts do me? Bravely said Anaxagoras, who when he lay a dying (x) at Lampsacus, and his Friends ask'd him, whither, if he should do otherwise than well, he would be carried to Clazomenae, his Country; answered, There is no need; for it is the same distance from all places, to the other World. Now upon the whole consideration of Burial, this Prin­ciple is to be held, that it relates to the Body, whe­ther the Soul dye or survive; it is also manifest, that whether the Soul be extinguish'd, or escap'd, there remains no Sense in the Body.

SECT. XLIV. Cruelty towards dead Enemies, and lamenting unburied Friends reprov'd.

BUT all the World is full of mistakes; Achilles drags Hector ty'd at the Chariots tail; sure he thinks him torn grievously: Therefore this the man doth, out of revenge, as he thinks. Again (y) the Woman bewails it, as a very cruel matter.

What Hector? or how long will he continue Hector? Better saith Attius, and Achilles at length grown wise.

Thou didst not therefore drag Hector, but the Corps which had been Hector's. (z) Look! another peeps up from under ground, who cannot let his Mo­ther sleep.

[Page 78] When these Aires are plaid to a low and lamenta­ble Tune, which raiseth compassion in whole The­aters; it is hard not to judge them miserable who lye unburied. E're Birds and Breasts—He is afraid least he should not have the use of his Limbs, if they be torn, but fears not, if they be burnt.

I understand not what he feareth, since he worketh out such sweet numbers to the sound of the Pipe. Hold we this then for a Maxim, that nothing is to be regarded after Death; though many take Ven­geance on Enemies, even when they are dead. Thyestes in Ennius curseth his Brother in very inge­nious Verses, wishing first, that Atreus might pe­rish by Shipwrack; a dismal Fate! for such a kind of death is not without grievous pain; the rest is but empty sound.

Why? those very stones were not more void of all Sense, than he that is thus empal'd, whom he thinks he wisheth it for a Torment. How grievous would they be, if he felt them; without Sense, they were no torture at all; that too, is wonderful idle.

[Page 79] You see upon how great a mistake all this runs on; he thinks the Grave to be the Bodies Haven; and that when it is dead, it rests there: Pelops was much to blame, who had not taught his Son better; nor instructed him what regard was due to each thing.

SECT. XLV. The Customs about some Savages about Burial condemn'd. What decency to be observ'd in Interment of the Dead.

BUT why do I take notice of private Opinions, when we may plainly see, the diverse Errors of whole Nations? The Egyptians embalm their Dead, and keep them at home. The Persians over and above embalming, wrap them in Searcloths, that the Body may continue as long as is possible entire. It is the Custom of the Magi, not to inter any of their Fellows, till their Bodies have been first torn in pieces with wild Beasts. In Hircania the Commons maintain Dogs at the publick Charge, Noble-men in their Families. Now we know that is a generous Race of Mastiffs; but every one pur­chaseth them according to his Ability; and that they take for the best way of Burial. Chrysippus collects many other Instances, as being excellently well vers'd in all sorts of History, but some of them (b) so loathsom, that civil Discourse doth nauseate and abhor the mentioning of them. Now this whole matter is to be despised by us, not neglected by our Friends; provided always that we judge the Bodies of the Dead, to have no Sense: yet how far Custom and common Fame is to be comply'd with, let the Living consider that, but so as to understand, that it no ways concerns the Dead. Now death is then to be receiv'd with the greatest content, when the decay­ing Life can comfort it self with a Reflexion upon its [Page 81] past good Services. No man hath liv'd short of his time, who hath compleatly discharg'd the Office of an accomplish'd Vertue. Many things have occurred to render death seasonable to my self, which I wish had succeeded; for nothing of new Acquisition was afterwards made; the Duties of my Life were fully discharg'd; there remain'd only Combats with Fortune; wherefore if single reason cannot be prevalent enough to make us neglect Death, yet let our past Life so far prevail with us, as that we should think we have liv'd enough, and too long: For though Sense be gone, yet the dead do not want the highest and most durable Goods of Praise and Glory, however they perceive them not; for though Glory have nothing in it self, why it should be pursu'd, yet it follows Vertue as its shadow. The true judgment of the multitude, concerning good men; if at any time it be such, is more to be commended, than that those men should be happy for that reason.

SECT. XLVI. Glory after Death, should abate the fear of dy­ing in Prosperity.

NOW I cannot say, in whatever Sense it be taken, that Lycurgus, Solon do want the Glo­ry of their Laws, and good Government of their Countries, that Themistocles, Epaminondas, want that of Martial Valor; and sooner shall Neptune swallow up Salamina it self, than the Memory of the Salaminian Trophy; and Leuctra shall be rais'd out of Boeotia, before the Glory of the Leuctri­an Fight. Nay, much longer shall it be, be­fore Fame shall forget Curius, Fabricius, Calati­nus, the two Scipios, the two Africans, Maximus, Marcellus, Paulus, Cato, Laelius, innumerable o­thers, whose Copy whosoever shall have tran­scrib'd, measuring it not by popular Fame, so much as the true Commendation of good Pa­triots; That man, if occasion shall so require, will, with unshaken Resolution, advance towards Death, wherein we know, there is either the greatest Good, or no Evil. Nay, he will choose to dye, whil'st he is still in a prosperous State; for the accession of superfluities which might be cast in, cannot be so pleasing, as the diminution of those just measures of good, already attain'd, will be grievous. To which purpose seemeth that word of the La­cedemonian, when Diagoras the Rhodian, a noble Master in the Olympian Games, had seen two Sons in one day, win the Prize in the same [Page 83] Games, he came up to the old man, and gave him joy in these words, Dye Diagoras, for you would not mount up to Heaven and be immortal, (c) The Greeks value that occasion highly, and perhaps overvalue it, or at least in those days did so, and he that spoke thus to Diagoras, looking upon it as an extraordinary Priviledge, that three Victors in the Olympian exercises should come out of one Fa­mily, thought it disadvantageous to him, to tarry longer in this World, expos'd to the vicissitudes of Fortune. Now have I, in short, as I thought, sufficiently answered you, for you had granted me, that the Dead were under no evil. But I have been earnest, the more to enlarge hereupon, because this is the greatest comfort in Mourning, and the loss of Friends; for we ought with pati­ence to bear our own sorrow, and what is by choice brought upon us for our own concern; lest we be found guilty of self-love. That other surmise creates us intollerable disquiet, to think that those dear Friends, whose lost Society we lament, are in a State of feeling those miseries which men commonly conceive. This conceit I was desirous, utterly to remove from my self, and thereupon have been perhaps somewhat of the longest.

SECT. XLVII. An Epilogue after the Mode of the Greek Rhe­toricians, who would perswade us, that Death is the greatest good that can befall man, upon Divine Testimonies.

YOU of the longest? not in my judgment, I assure you, for the former part of your Discourse, wrought in me a desire to dye. The latter, sometimes no unwillingness; other times an indifferency; but upon the whole Tenor of the Debate; there hath been effected a Conviction in me, not to account death among things evil.

Do we therefore still lack a Conclusion (d) af­ter the manner of Rhetoricians? or is it now time for us, quite to abandon that practice?

Nay, but do not you desert that Art which you have always advanc'd; and that with good reason; for That, to speak the truth, hath advanc'd you. But what is this Epilogue? for I would fain hear it, whatever it be.

(e) They are wont, in Disputations, to pro­duce the Judgment of the immortal Gods, in the case concerning Death: (f) nor do they devise them themselves, but report them upon the Au­thority of Herodotus and diverse others. First of [Page 85] all Cleobis and Biton, Sons of the Argive Priestess are magnified. The Story is well known, it being the received Ceremony, that she must ride in a Coach to a solemn and anniversary Sacrifice at the Temple, some good distance out of Town, and the Mules not being brought time enough, then the young men before named, stripping of their Garments, annointed their Bodies with Oyl, put themselves in­to the Traces; so the Priestess lighting at the Tem­ple, having had her Chariot drawn by her Sons, is said to have pray'd the Goddess to bestow upon them a reward of their Piety, the greatest that could be given man by God. Afterwards the young men having feasted with their Mother, went to sleep, and were found dead in the Morning. A like Prayer Trophonius and Agamedes are said to have made; these having built the Temple to Apollo at Delphi, and coming to worship him, requested no small reward of their work and pains, specified nothing, but what were best for man. Apollo declared he would give it them the third day after, which day was no sooner come, but they were found dead. Here they say, that God hath determin'd the Que­stion, and that God too, unto whom all the other Gods have deser'd, above the rest, the power of Divination.

SECT. XLVIII. Those of Demigods, Oracles, and in Panegyri­cal Commemorations of such as have dy'd for their Country.

THERE is told us a fine Tale about Silenus, who having been caught by Midas, is written to have given him this recompence for his release, that he taught the King. (g) For man not to be born, is far the best; but next to that, to dye speedily; to which Sense Euripides in his Cresphantes alluded.

Somewhat to the same effect is found in Cran­tors Book of Consolation, for he saith, that one Elisius a Terinese being greatly afflicted at the death of his Son, came into an Oratory to enquire what might be the Cause of so great a Calamity, and that three Verses to this purport were given him in a Table-Book.

Upon these, and like Authorities, they prove that the cause hath been decided by a Divine Sen­tence. [Page 88] One Alcidamas an ancient Rhetorician of the highest Rank, for eminency hath gone so far, as to pen an Encomium of Death, which consists in a rehearsal of the Miseries, which accompany mans Life. The Reasons, which are more accu­rately collected by Philosophers, he wanted; co­piousness of Language, he wanted not. Now (h) Deaths for their Country embrac'd with eminent Reso­lution, are wont to seem not only glorious to Rhetoricians, but also blessed. They go back as far as Erechtheus, whose very Daughters were zealous to dye, to save the Lives of their Citizens; descend to Codrus, who charg'd up to the midst of his Enemies in the disguise of a Servant, lest, if he had worn his Royal Robes, he might have been discover'd, because the Oracle had foretold, that Athens should bear away the Victory, if their King were slain. Nor is Menaeceus past in silence, who, upon a like Predi­ction, sacrific'd his Life for his Country. Iphigenia at Aulis, bid them lead her up to the Altar, that so the Enemies Blood might be drain'd, by the Effusion of her own.

SECT. XLIX. The Close of all, applys that Substance of the present Debate to the Readers benefit.

THEY come thence to latter times; Harmo­dius is in vogue, and Aristogiton the Lacedemo­nian; Leonidas, Theban, Epaminondas flourish; with our Patriots they are not acquainted; and but to recount them, would be a hard task, there are so many, who we see, have made it their choice, to dye in the Bed of Honor. Which things being so, yet must we use great Eloquence, and speak as with Authority, that men may be brought either to wish for death, or at least may forbear fearing it; for if that last day do not bring with it an utter Annihilation, but only change of abode, what were more desirable? but if it destroy, and abolish the whole, what is better, than in the midst of our labors here, to fall asleep, and so laid fast to take [Page 90] an eternal repose? If that fall out to be true, yet (i) better is the saying of Ennius, than of Solon, for that our Country-man saith.

(k) But as for us, if any such thing should fall out, that a Message may seem to be sent us from God, to depart this Life, let us submit with joy, and be thankful, judging our selves discharg'd from Prison, and our Shackles knock'd off, that we may either return to dwell in our eternal and true home; or may be set free from all Sense and un­easiness; but if no such Message be sent us, yet let us be prepared to think that day, so dreadful to others, to be to us happy: and rank nothing amongst Evils, (l) which is either by God appointed, or by Nature the common Mother. (m) For we were not without Cause, or at all adventures born and bred; but in truth there was some Power which had an especial Providence over man, nor would beget or breed up such a Being, as after it had endur'd all the labours of this Life, should then fall into the eternal Evil of Death. Let us rather think it a Haven, to find provided for us, into which I could wish we might ride, with Sails top and top-gallant; but if we shall be beaten off through contrary Winds, yet not long after we must of necessity be driven back to the same place. Now, what is necessary for all, can that be miserable to any one? You have the Epilogue, least you should [Page 91] think any thing hath been omitted, or left un­finish'd.

I have it indeed, and that Conclusion, hath in truth, more confirm'd me.

Very well, say I, but at present let us have some regard to our Health; then to morrow, and as many days after as we shall abide in this Tuscu­lan Place, let us mind these Matters, and especi­ally such as bring relief to our Discontents, Fears and Lusts; which is the greatest advantage that can be made of all Philosophy.

SECT. I. The benefit of Philosophy.

NEoptolemus in Ennius, saith, he must act the Philosopher; but a little, for the part is no way pleasing. But I, my dear Brutus, judge that I must study Philosophy; for in what can I be better employ'd, especially being out of all employment? but not a little, as he saith, for it is hard, in Philosophy, to have a little known to him, that doth not know the most, or all; for neither can a little be chosen, but out of much; nor will he that hath understood a little, be satis­fied, till he hath learn'd the rest. (n) But in a life of employment, and such as was that of Neoptole­mus at that time, Military, even that little doth often much good, and brings advantages, though not so great as might be reap'd from the whole course of Philosophy, yet such as thereby we may in some measure be reliev'd against Lust, or Fear, or Dis­content. [Page 93] As by that Disputation which I lately held in my House at Tusculum, there seem'd to have been wrought a great contempt of Death, which is of no small influence to free the Soul from the fear of it. For he who is continually afraid of that which cannot be avoided, can by no means have any quiet of his Life; but he that doth not fear death, not only because he must of necessity dye, but because death hath nothing dreadful in it, that man hath gain'd good interest towards the ensuring a happy Life. Although we are not ig­norant, that many will earnestly contradict these things which we could no ways prevent, unless we would write nothing at all; for if our very Orations, which we desir'd should be approv'd to the judgment of the Multitude (for the Faculty is popular, and the Approbation of the Auditors, is the work that Eloquence hath to do) but if there were some men in the World, who would commend nothing, but what they were confident themselves could imitate, and made their own hope the Standard of their good words, and when they were born down with copiousness of words and sense, would say they had rather have Barrenness and Poverty, than Plenty and Riches; from whence (o) a sort of Attick Speakers took their Rise, who knew not themselves what it was they pretended to follow; and who are now silenc'd, being almost laugh'd out of Court: what do we think would become of us, when we see we cannot now have the Peo­ple any longer our abettor, as we had before; for Philosophy is contented to have but few judges; and studiously avoids the multitude, as being suspected by it, and hated of it. So that if a man would speak against Philosophy in general, he might have the People on his side; or if he would go about to at­tack [Page 94] this, which we chiefly profess to follow, he might have great assistance from the Doctrines of other Philosophers. Now as to the Traducers of Philosophy in general, we have answered them in our Hortensius.

SECT. II. That the Academick Scheme is cautious and modest.

THOSE things which are to be spoken (p) in be­half of the Academy, we judge to have been accurately enough deliver'd in our four Acade­mick Books; though we are so far from being un­willing to be writ against, that we desire nothing more; for Philosophy had never been in so great Repu­tation in Greece it self, had it not been brought into re­quest by the Disputations and different Judgments of the greatest Scholars. Wherefore I exhort all, that are able to do it, that they would bear away this kind of praise also from Greece, that is now growing feeble, and that they would bring it into Rome, as our Ancestors have by their Study and Industry, brought over all other Arts, which were thought worth the fetching. And indeed the Praise of Orators among us hath been so advanc'd from a mean condition, till it is come to the highest pitch, that now according to the course of Nature, in almost all things, declineth and seemeth ready, within a very short time, to dwindle into nothing. Let the Birth of Philosophy in Latin, bear date from these times, and let us be helping to it; and be contented to be disprov'd and confuted, which they take impatiently, who are as it were pre-engaged, and (q) have espoused certain Di­ctates of the Doctors of their respective Sects, and so lye under a necessity, to maintain them for Honors sake, though they are often in their Con­sciences [Page 96] not convinc'd of their Truth. We who pursue after probabilities, and pretend not to ad­vance farther, than to what carrieth with it the ap­pearance of Truth, are ready both to disprove without confidence, and to be disprov'd without passion. Now if these Studies shall be translated to our Country-men, we shall not so much as need Greek Libraries, in which there is an infinite number of Books, by reason of the multitude of Writers. For the same things are said over and over again by diverse Persons, whereupon they have fill'd the World with Books. Which ill consequent will attend our People also, if the generality shall break in upon these Studies. But let us, if we can incite those, who to an ingenuous Education have added a Practice of polite Discourse, and do handle Phi­losophical Questions (r) in an orderly way, with proper and conclusive Arguments.

SECT. III. The Epicurean only regarded by its own fol­lowers.

FOR there is a certain Set of such as assume to themselves the name of Philosophers, who are said to have Books enough in Latin, which I do not despise, for I have never read them; but (s) be­cause the Authors profess themselves, that they write neither with distinction of Terms, nor distri­bution of Parts, nor elegancy of Language, nor any Ornaments; I neglect to give that reading which is no ways delightful. For none that hath but indif­ferent Learning, can be ignorant what the Disci­ples of that School say, and what they mean. Wherefore since they make no regard how they speak, I cannot understand how they should be read by any but those of the same Judgment; for as all read Plato, and the rest of the Socraticks, and those downwards which deriv'd from them; all, I say, read them, even such as do not approve all in them, or are not most zealous Followers of him; but Epicurus and Metrodorus hardly any body, be­sides those of their own Sect, taketh them into his hands; so they only read these Latin ones, which think their Doctrines to be true. But our judgment is, that whatsoever is publish'd, should bring with it that respect to the publick, as to be commended to the reading of all Scholars; nor because we may be not so able our selves as to perform it, are we there­fore less of the mind, that so it ought to be done. [Page 98] Therefore I always lik'd that Custom of the Peri­pateticks and Academy, to argue upon all Subjects on both sides, not only because that which is like­ly in every matter, can no other ways be found out; but all because it is the best exercise of speak­ing well, which Aristotle first used, then they who came after him; but in our memory Philo, whom we have frequently heard, set up reading Oratory at one time, and Philosophy at another; to which Custom we being perswaded by some familiar Friends, spent in that business what time we had to stay in our House at Tusculum; therefore, when in the Morning we had been at Declamations, as we had done the day before; after Noon we came down (t) into the Academy, and what Disputa­tion was there held, we deliver not by way of report, but near word for word, as it was there managed, and controverted.

SECT. IV. The bad life of some Teachers, is only scandal to their Persons, not Doctrines.

AS therefore we were walking, the Discourse fell in after this manner, and was introduc'd from such a beginning.

(u) It is not to be express'd, how much I was pleas'd, or rather edified with your yesterdays dispute; for although I am not conscious to my self, that I was ever over-fond of Life, yet sometimes a se­cret apprehension and grief did over-cloud my Spirit, when I thought seriously on it, that the time would come, that this light would have an end, and that I must part with all the Comforts of Life. Now, believe it, I am so perfectly deliver­ed from this sort of uneasiness, that I think it ought to be the least of my Cares.

No wonder at that, for this is the proper work of Philosophy, it healeth the Distempers of the mind, removeth vain Disquiets, sets free from impetuous Desires, banisheth Fears; but this its Vertue is not of equal Efficacy with all. Then doth it most exert its vigor, when it meets with a capa­ble nature. For not only Fortune favors the Valiant, (as is in the old Proverb) but much more doth reason so too, which, as it were by certain Pre­cepts, doth superadd Constancy to Valour. Nature hath made you, as it appears, an excellent Person, lofty, and overlooking the present World; therefore a Dis­course had against death, made easily deep Im­pressions [Page 100] on a generous mind. But do you think the same Arguments would prevail with those very men, bating some few of them, by whom they have been invented, disputed, and compiled. For where is there one Philosopher of a thousand to be found, of such a Temper and Conversation, as Reason requires? who maketh use of his Doctrine not for Ostentation of Knowledge, but a Rule of Life? who believes himself, and observes his own Precepts? Some of them we may see of such Le­vity, and so proud Boasters, that they had better never have been bred up to Learning; others greedy after Money; some after Vain-glory; others Slaves to their Lusts: in such manner as their Practice doth marvellously contradict their Professi­on, which seemeth to me highly shameful. For as if one that professeth himself a Grammarian, should speak false Latin; or he that would pass for a Master in Musick, should sing out of Tune; he is so much the more scandalous, because he offends in that very thing, whereof he professeth the knowledge: So a Philosopher that is an ill liver, is so much the more scandalous, because he miscarries in the Trade whereof he would be Master; and having profess'd an Art of Life, is faulty in his Life.

SECT. V. The Position maketh Pain the greatest of all Evils.

IS it not therefore justly to be feared, if the Matter be so as you say, least you put upon Philosophy the Glory that it deserveth not? for what greater Argument is there, that it is nothing available, than that some excellent Philosophers live scandalous Lives?

Nay, that is no Argument at all, till'd Grounds do not bear good Corn; and that is a Saying false, and contrary to common expe­rience.

So all minds cultivated, do not bring forth Fruit. And that I may keep to the same Simile; as a Field, though it be Fruitful, without Tillage can­not bring a good Crop, so the Soul without Learn­ing. Thus either of both these Matters, without the other, is defective. Now the cultivating of the Soul is Philosophy, which Weeds out Vices by the Roots, and prepareth Souls to receive good Seed; then commits those things, and as it were, soweth them therein, which being come to full maturity, bring forth a most plentiful Harvest. Let us proceed therefore as we begun; tell me, what Subject would you have disputed upon?

I esteem Pain to be the greatest of all Evils.

What; greater than dishonour?

I dare not say so; and some shame it is to be so soon mov'd from my Opinion.

More shame was it for you, if you should have persever'd in that opinion; for what is more unsuitable to that high Character, than for you to think any thing worse, than dishonour, scandal, baseness? to avoid which, what Pain would not only not be declin'd, but also be eagerly pursu'd, undergone, encounter'd?

I am clearly of that judgment; yet for all that, though Pain be not the greatest Evil, without doubt it is Evil?

Do you see then, upon a short Admonition, how much you have abated of the Terror of Pain?

I see it plainly, but would seign somewhat more.

Well, I will try what may be done; but it is a hard piece of business; and I must require of you, a disposition of mind, not resolv'd against Conviction.

That you shall be sure to have; for as I did yesterday, so now I will follow reason whither­soever she shall lead me.

SECT. VI. The different Maxims of Philosophers on that Subject.

FIRST therefore I shall speak of the weak­ness of many; and thē Philosophers of dif­ferent Perswasions. The Principal of whom, both for Authority and Antiquity, Aristippus the Scholar of Socrates, stuck not to say, in plain terms, That Pain was the greatest Evil. In the next place, Epi­curus prov'd Scholar apt enough in this lash and unmanlike Lesson. After him Hierom of Rhodes said, That freedom from Pain was the chiefest hap­piness; so much Evil did he apprehend in Pain. The other Philosophers, (w) besides Zeno, Aristo, Pyrrho, commonly maintain the same, as you late­ly asserted, That it is Evil; but there are other things worse. Therefore what nature it self, and an in-bred Gallantry of Spirit doth instantly ab­hor, that you should call Pain the greatest Evil, and dishonour being match'd with it, you should quit the mistake; in that Point, Philosophy the School­mistress of Life, is for so many Ages peremptory. What Duty, what Praise, what Honour can be so valuable, as that he should be content to purchase at the rate of bodily Pain, who hath taken up the Perswasion, That Pain is the greatest Evil? Again, what Ignominy, what Baseness will not any one submit to, that he may escape Pain, if he have de­termin'd that to be the greatest Evil? Nay, who is not miserable, not only at the time when he shall [Page 104] be under pressure of the greatest Pains, if in these consists the greatest Evil; but even then when he knows himself liable to be so? and who is not liable to be so? whereupon it follows, That no man can ever be happy. Metrodorus thinks him to be com­pleatly happy, who hath a sound Constitution of Body, and good grounds of assurance that it will always con­tinue so; but who is there that can have any grounds of such assurance?

SECT. VII. Epicurus contradicts himself herein, the Tragi­cal impatiences of Philoctetes.

BUT Epicurus speaks after that rate, that he seems to me desirous to move Laughter; for in one place he affirms; If a wise man be burnt, if he be wrack'd; you look perhaps that he should say, He will be patient, he will endure; he will not sink under it. By Hercules! a great Commendati­on, and worthy that very Hercules by whom I swore. But this will not serve (x) Epicurus a rough and hardy man: If he shall be in Phalaris bra­zen Bull, he will say, Oh! how sweet is this! How unconcern'd am I at all this! Is it sweet too? Were [Page 105] it too little, if it be not better? But those very Persons who deny Pain to be Evil, are not wont to say, that it is sweet to any one to be put to Torture; they say that it is rough, hard, octious, contrary to Nature, and yet not Evil. He who saith this is the only Evil, and the utmost of all Evils, affirms, that a wise man would call it sweet. I do not require of you to speak of Pain in the same Language as Epicurus doth of Pleasure, who was himself, as you know, a great Voluptu­ary. Let him say the same, with all my heart, in the Brazen Bull, as if he were upon a Feather-Bed. I do not attribute to Wisdom, so much strength against Pain. If perhaps it be sufficient discharge of Duty, to bear it patiently, I do not further demand that she rejoyce at it. For with­out doubt, it is a sad thing, bitter, repugnant to Nature, difficult to be endur'd with any Patience. (y) Look on Philoctetes, who is to be pardon'd his groaning, for he had seen Hercules on Oeta yell­ing through excess of Pains. The Arrows there­fore which he had receiv'd from Hercules, did then nothing comfort him; when

Then he roars out seeking for aid, desiring to dye.

[Page 106] It seemeth a hard word, that he who is forc'd to roar out after this sort, should not be in evil Estate, and that very Evil too.

CHAP. VIII. Hercules.

BUT look we upon Hercules himself, who was then carried forth into Impatience thorough Pain; when he was upon acquiring Immortality by his very death. What Expressions doth he utter in Sophocles, in his Play call'd Trachiniae? for when Deianira had made him put on the Shirt (b) dip'd in the Centaure 's Blood, and that had stuck to his Body, thus he saith,

SECT. IX.

Nor can we now despise Pain, when we see Hercules himself so impatient under it?

SECT. X. Prometheus.

ENTER next Aeschylus, not only a Poet, but also Pythagorean; for so have we by Traditi­on. How doth Prometheus in him bear the Pain inflicted on him for (c) the Lemnian Theft; where­by Fire that is now become culinary, was clan­destinely dealt among Mortals.

Paying therefore this amercement, as he hangs fastened to Mount Caucasus, he utters these words.

SECT. XI. Digressions against the Poets.

IT is a hard matter therefore, for us not to pro­nounce a man in these Circumstances misera­ble; and if he be miserable, Pain must conse­quently be evil.

(d) You do hitherto bring Arguments in my favour, but that I shall examine anon; in the mean time, (e) where had you those Verses? for I re­member not to have met with them before.

I will tell you truly, for it is a proper que­stion; do you not see that I have little to do?

What of that?

You have been, I suppose, in the Philoso­phers Schools, when you were at Athens.

I have so, and with great satisfaction.

You must needs then mark, though there were none at that time very fluent, yet that Verses were mix'd with their Discourse.

Yes, and many too by Dionysius the Stoick.

You say right; but he would repeat them as a School-boy doth his Lesson, without any di­stinction of what was proper or elegant. (f) Philo observ'd both the due number, and choice Pieces, and would apply them in their proper place. Therefore since I have taken to this sort of declaim­ing, as it were for my old Age, I am much con­versant in our Poets; but if they be any where de­ficient, I translate many things my self out of Greek, that the Latin Tongue might not come behind in [Page 112] any sort of Ornaments in this kind of Disputations. But do you see (g) what mischief Poets do? for they bring upon the Stage Persons of a brave Cha­racter lamenting, they soften our Spirits: then so luscious are they, as not only to be read by us, but also gotten by heart. Thus when over and above ill breeding at home, a sedentary and soft life, the Poets come in with their Charms also, they emasculate the Soul. Therefore Plato did well, to dismiss them out of the State which he modell'd, when he enquir'd af­ter the sound best Policy, and best order'd State of a Commonwealth. (h) But we now, as fetch­ing our Education from Greece, read and learn these things from our Child-hood; we account this Gentile Breeding and Scholarship.

SECT. XII. Against some Heterodox Philosophers.

BUT why are we angry with Poets? there have been found Philosophers, Teachers of Vertue, who have affirm'd Pain to be the greatest Evil. But you, young man, when you had but a little before declar'd that to be your thought, upon the question barely put by me, whether greater than Dishonour, at the very word fell off from your opinion. I put Epicurus the very same question, he will justifie it, that a small Pain is greater Evil than the greatest Dishonour. Because in the Dishon­our it self there is no Evil, unless Pains ensue upon it. Now what Pain doth ensue upon Epicurus, when he maketh such Assertion, more dishonourable than which, I cannot expect any thing from a Phi­losopher. So that you have secur'd me, when you reply'd, that you esteem'd Dishonour a greater Evil than Pain; for do but keep to this, you will have a Rule how far we should strive against Pain; for it is not so much the Question, whether Pain be evil or not, as the business to fortifie the mind against impa­tience under Pain. (i) The Stoicks bring little Ar­guments to prove it not to be evil, as though it were a Contest about words, and no real concern. Zeno, why do you impose upon me? for when the thing that seems terrible to me, you affirm to have no ill in it at all; I am caught, and desire to know how that which I judge most miserable, should not be so much as evil: Nothing, saith he, is evil, but [Page 115] what is base and vitious. Nay, now you triffle again; I know that Pain is no lewdness. Forbear teaching me that, teach me this, that it is indifferent, whe­ther I am in Pain or not in Pain. There is no diffe­rence at all, saith he, in order to happiness, which is plac'd in Vertue alone; but yet it is to be refus'd. Why so? It is rough, unnatural, hard to be endur'd, bitter, grievous.

SECT. XIII. Pain must not betray us to indecent Carriage.

THIS is command of Language, to be able to express in such variety of Terms, that which we commonly call in one word Evil. You define, but remove not my Pain, when you say it is rough, preternatural, and almost intolerable; nor do you [Page 116] speak any untruth; but you that boast in words, should not shrink in the trial; since nothing is good but what is honourable; nothing evil, but what base. This is rather to wish what we would have; then to inform what is. The better and truer Decision were, that whatsoever Nature abhorreth, is to be reck­on'd among things evil; what it covets among the good. This being laid down for a Maxim, and all Con­tention about words, remov'd nevertheless, so much will that excell which they rightly embrace, which we call honourable, honest, and comely, which we sometimes comprise under the general name of Vertue, that all other the reputed Goods of the Body and Fortune appear but little and in­considerable. Nor can any one Evil, no nor if all were brought together into one place, be comparable with the Evil of dishonesty. Wherefore (k) if, what you granted in the beginning, Dishonour be worse than Pain, Pain is of no force at all; for whilst you shall think it mean and unmanly to sigh, howl, lament, to be dejected, melancholly, impatient; then will Dignity, then Honour, then Decency present themselves before you; and you look stedfastly on them and restrain your self: Pain truly will give way to Vertue, and be enfeebled by the assuming Courage: For either there is no Vertue, or all Pain is to be slighted. Would you have it that there is any Prudence, without which no Vertue can be so much as understood? Now what think you of her? will she suffer you to do any thing, so as to take Pains to no purpose? Will Temperance permit you to be immoderate in any thing? Can Justice be observ'd by him, who for grievousness of Pain, re­veals Secrets, (l) bewrays Complices, and abandons many Duties? What for Fortitude? how will you answer her and her Attendants, Bravery of Spirit, [Page 117] Gravity, Patience, Contempt of the World? While you afflict your self, are heartless, and make a piteous moan, shall you hear, O stout man! while you demean your self after such manner, none will call you so much as man. Valour therefore must be parted with, or Grief buried.

SECT. XIV. —must be opposed with Courage.

KNOW you therefore, that if you loose a Sil­ver Cup, the rest of your Plate may be safe; but if you loose one Vertue, (although (m) Vertue cannot be lost; but (n) if you confess there is one Vertue that you have not) it will follow that you have none? Can you therefore say, that he is a Valiant man, or of a gallant Spirit, or Grave, or Patient, or that he despiseth the World, either that Philoctetes—(for I had rather learn from you; but he to be sure is not valiant) who lyeth in a damp Grot on bed of Leaves;

I do not deny Pain to be Pain, for what need else were there of Fortitude? but I say it may be suppress'd by Patience, if there be any such Vertue as Patience; if there be none, why do we magnifie Philosophy? or why do we value our selves in being denominated from her? Pain doth prick: why? let it goad you. If you be defenceless, offer your Throat; but, (o) if you be senc'd with Armour of Vulcans making, that is, with Fortitude, (p) make resistance. For unless you do so, this Guardian of your Dignity will abandon you utter­ly. The Cretan Laws, which either Jupiter himself made, (q) or Minos, agreeable to Jove's will, as the Poets deliver, (r) and those also of Lycurgus, incur their Youth to labours, to Hunting, Racing, Hunger and Thirst, Freezing, Sweltring; the (s) Children at Sparta are so disciplin'd at the Altar, that much blood gushes out of their Bodies; sometimes also, as I heard, when I was there till they fell down dead? None of these ever cry'd out, or so much as setch'd a Groan. What then? shall not Men be able to bear what Children have been able to bear; what Custom can effect, shall not Reason effect the same?

SECT. XV. Inuring to labour, disposeth the Mind to a pa­tient enduring of Pain.

THERE is some difference between Labour and Pain; they border indeed, but yet some­what differ. Labour is an employment of Body or Mind, in the discharge of some toilsom Work or Office. But Pain is a rough motion in the Body, ungrateful to the Senses. The Greeks, whose Lan­guage is more copious than ours, call both by one Name. For industrious men, they call Pains-taking­men; we more properly Laborious; for it is one thing to labour, another thing to be pain'd. Greece sometimes at a loss for words, though thou think­est thy self always to abound in them. It is one thing, I say, to be in Pain, another to take Pains. C. Marius was in Pain, when his swellings in the Veins of his Feet were cut. He took Pains when he march'd in sweltry weather; yet there is also some likeness between them, for (t) the being ac­custom'd to labour, renders the enduring of Pain less dif­ficult. Upon this ground they who made the Plat­forms of Commonwealths in Greece, provided, that the Bodies of young men should be hardened by Labour. (u) These the Spartans extended to Women also, which in other States are treated with all tenderness, and kept within doors to save their Beauties. Now after the Ordinance of their Law-giver.

Therefore with these laborious Exercises, Pain doth also sometimes intermingle. They are thrust, smitten, flung, and they fall. So that the very labour doth bring a callous insensibility over the Pain.

SECT. XVI. The Power of Exercise.

(w) NOw for Souldiery, I mean our own, not that of the Spartans, whose March is in Tune, to the sound of the Pipe, and who use no incentive to Engagement, (x) without Anapaests. Our Train'd-Bands it is manifest, first, whence they receive their Denomination; then, what labour do [Page 122] they undergo? how great in their March? to carry more than a Fortnights Provision; to carry their necessary Baggage; to carry Palisado's: for Buckler, Sword, Helmet, our men count no more a burden, than Breast, Armes and Hands. For they say, that the pieces of Armour are a Souldiers Limbs, which are all carried so titely, that if oc­casion offers, they can fling away their Baggage, and stand to their Arms, as though they were ready with their bare Limbs to make opposition. What means the training of Legions? what means the running, the shouting at the onset? how laborious is it? from hence cometh that Spirit in Battails, prepared to receive Wounds. Bring me a Souldier of like Courage, that hath not been exercised; he will seem a Woman. Such difference is there be­tween a fresh and veteran Army; as we have found by experience, the Age of new-listed Soul­diers is ordinarily better; but, to endure labour, de­spise Wounds, custom teacheth. Nay, we often see men carried out of the Battle wounded; and then this raw and unpractis'd Souldier, at never so slight a Wound, to make most lamentable out­crys; but the experienc'd and old-beaten one, and for that reason more Valiant, looking for a Chi­rurgion to dress him, saith,

SECT. XVII.

(y) THIS must be Eurypylus, an old beaten Soul­dier, when he continueth so long under Pain, see how far he is from giving a mean spirited pittiful answer, that he alledgeth a Reason, why he should bear it patiently.

Patroclus will, I trow, carry him in, and rest him on a Pallate, that he may dress his Wound, if he had any Humanity. But I see no such matter, for he is asking news of the Fight.

Though Eurypylus should have been able, yet Aesopus could not.

And what follows he relateth, being all the while in Pain.

[Page 124] So ungovernable is Military Glory in a man of Honour. Shall therefore an old Soldier be able to do this, and shall not a Scholar and Wise man be able so to do? Nay this may better, and that not a little. But hitherto I speak but of the Custom of Exercise, I am not yet come to Reason and Wisdom. (z) Weak old Women oftentimes go without eat­ing two or three days together; do but with-hold Meat one day from a Wrastler, he will cry out upon Olympian Jupiter; the same to whose Honor he shall exercise himself. He will cry he cannot bear it; Great is the Power of Custom: Hunters keep all night abroad in Frost and Snow; endure the being starv'd on the top of bleak Mountains: from the same Custom is it, that those who Cuff with Whorlebats, though batter'd black and blew, never fetch'd a groan. But why do I mention these Ma­sters of Exercise, who esteem'd a Prize won at the Olympian Games, as honourable as was the Roman Consulship of old? Fencers, men either Bank-routs, or Barbarians, what gashes do they put up? how do they that are taught true Play, choose rather to receive a slash, than unhandsomly to decline it? how often is it apparent, that they desire nothing more, than to content either their Patron, or the People; when they are even flash'd all over, they send to their Lords to enquire their Pleasures, whe­ther they have given them content, that they were willing to fight it out to the last. What Fencer of any Courage, groan'd in the Combat? who ever chang'd his colour? who, not only stood, but even fell indecently? who, after he had laid himself down, when he was bidden to lye fair for his deaths-wound, shrunk his Neck in? Such Power hath Exercise, Training, Custom. Shall therefore this Ability be attainable by

And shall a man, born to Glory, have any part of his Soul so nesh, as that he cannot confirm it wth Exercising, and with Reason? (a) The look­ing upon Fencers playing a Prize, is wont to be accounted by some, Cruel and Inhumane, and I know not but it may be so, as it is now used. But when Malefactors sought it out at the Swords point, perhaps the Ear might find many braver Lectures, but the Eyes could never receive any Instruction more sortifying against Pain and Death.

SECT. XVIII. —of Reason.

I Have spoken to Exercise, Custom, and Pra­ctice; come now let us consider as to Reason, unless you have any thing to offer against what hath been delivered.

Do you think I would interrupt you? I would not have had you made this doubt, your Speech doth so powerfully induce me to be­lieve.

Whether therefore Pain be evil or not, let the Stoicks look to that; who by certain captious and nice Arguments, such as no ways reach home to the Senses, would seem to demonstrate that Pain, is not evil. Be it what it will for Quality, I think it is not for quantity so great as it seems to be; and I do affirm, that men are more vehement­ly struck with the false appearance and concepti­on of it, than they reasonably ought to be; and (b) that its whole smart is tolerable. Where then should I take the beginning? should I touch briefly upon the Matters which I have already spoken, that so my Discourse may proceed more intelligi­bly. This therefore is agreed upon among all, not only the learned but unlearned too, that it is the part of men Valiant, and Gallant, and Patient, [Page 127] and conquering the World, to bear Pain patiently. Nor was there ever any who did not esteem him who did thus bear it, worthy of Praise. What therefore is both requir'd of the Valiant; and com­mended in them when it is perform'd; either to fear that when it is coming, or to faint under it when it is come; how can that otherwise chose, than be base and dishonourable? Now consider, when all right Dispositions of the mind be called Vertues, whether that be not a name improperly appliable to all: but whether all be not nam'd from that one disposition which excells the rest: For manliness is call'd from man; but fortitude is the most manly Vertue, whose two principal Offices are a contempt of Death and Pain: let us therefore put these in Practice, if we would be vertuous or rather Men; for Manliness, which denominateth the other Vertues, hath borrowed its name from man.

SECT. XIX. The direction of Epicurus impracticable.

YOU will enquire perhaps, but how should we come to despise Pain; and a good question it is, for Philosophy pretends to prescribe Reme­dies in such case. Here cometh Epicurus, he no [Page 128] cunning Fellow, but rather very honest man, ad­vised to the best of his Skill; slight Pain, saith he. Now who is it that saith this? Why he that affirms Pain to be the greatest Evil: not very consistently: let us hear on. If Pain be at the highest, saith he, it must needs be short. Say me those words over again, for I do not understand what you mean by the highest, nor what by being short. The highest, than which nothing is higher; short, than which nothing is shorter. I despise the greatness of that Pain, from which the shortness of time will release me almost as soon as it shall come; but if the Pain be so great as was that of Philoctetes, it seems to me consider­ably great, but yet not at the highest; for nothing aketh but the Feet; the Head, the Sides, the Lungs might, all the Parts might. Therefore it is far from the highest Pain: Therefore, saith he, long Pain hath more pleasure in it than trouble. Now cannot I say, that a man of his Reputation is without com­mon Sense, but I think we are mock'd by him: The Pain which is at the highest (and I suppose it at the highest, although there may be one ten Atomes greater) I do not presently affirm it must be short, and can instance in many sufficient men, that for very many years have been tormented with the Gout; but this wary Person never de­fieth either the greatness of the Pain, or shortness of Time; so that I may come to know what he means by the highest in Pain, what short in Time. Let us therefore leave him, saying nothing to any purpose, and let us oblige him to confess, that the remedy against Pain, is not to be expected from him, who shall hold Pain to be the greatest of Evils. Let the same Person in his Collick, Stone, and Strangury, set never so good a Face on the matter. Elsewhere therefore must Cure be sought, [Page 129] and especially if we enquire what is most suitable, of those who judge that which is honourable, to be the chiefest good; what is base, the chiefest evil. In their presence you will not dare to keep a groaning, and make a disturbance; for in their Language, Valour it self will thus address to you.

SECT. XX. Vertue exhorting personated.

WILL you, when you see Children at Lace­daemon, young men at Olympia, Barbarians in the Amphitheater receive the severest Strokes, and put them up quietly, will you, I say, upon the least ail, cry out like a Woman? Will you not bear it with Constancy and Calmness? It is intoler­able, Nature cannot brook it; these are words; Children endure it for love of Glory, others en­dure it for shame, many out of fear, and yet do we apprehend, that Nature cannot stand under that which is endur'd by so many, and in so many places? Now she is so far from not abiding it, that she even requireth it: For she hath nothing more ex­cellent, nothing she more desireth than Honour, than Praise, than Dignity, than Decency of Demeanour. By these several Names I mean one and the same thing; but I use different Expressions, that I may make it out with the greatest plainness. Now my meaning is, that, to be far the choicest good for man, which is to be chosen for its own sake, as proceeding from Vertue, or plac'd in it, and is in its own Nature praise-worthy; which I would [Page 130] sooner call his only, than not his chief good. And as this hath been said of Honour, so must the con­trary of Baseness: Nothing goeth so much to the Heart, nothing carrieth that Antipathy with it, nothing is so un­suitable to man's Dignity; which, if you be tho­roughly perswaded of, for at first you yielded it to be your judgment, that there was more evil in Dishonour than in Pain; it remains that you go­vern your self; although this be a pretty odd Ex­pression, as if the same Man consisted of two; The one the Governour, and the other the Go­verned; yet it is handsomly enough said.

SECT. XXI. The manner of subduing our Affections to Rea­son.

FOR the Soul is distributed into two parts, whereof the one partaketh of Reason, the other is Irrational: when therefore it is enjoyn'd, that we should govern our selves, the Sense of the Injunction is, that our Reason should restrain our Passion. There is in the Souls of all men, in a man­ner, naturally somewhat lasche, mean, low-spi­rited, in a sort emasculate and feeble; were there nothing else, man would be the most deformed thing in the World; but Reason the Lady and Em­press of all things, is at hand to help; which bearing up on her own strength, and advancing farther, becometh, at length, accomplish'd Vertue. The man, therefore, must take care that this may rule that part of the Soul which ought to obey. [Page 131] How should it do that, say you? why, as a Lord his Slave, as a General his Souldier, as a Parent his Child. If that soft and tender part of the Soul, which I called Lasche, shall give it self over to effeminate Lamentations and Tears; let it be bound and secur'd by the guards of Friends and Allys. For we often see Persons aw'd by Shame, who could not be wrought upon by any Reason. These, therefore, like Slaves, let us bind in Chains, and keep under guard; but those who have some steadiness, but yet are not of the stoutest, these we should call back with like Admonitions, as good Souldiers are rally'd to make head and maintain their ground. That wisest man of Greece, in the Play called Niperiae, maketh no great Lamentation, or rather but a very moderate one, when he saith;

Pacuvius hath done this better than Sophocles, for in this latter, Ulysses is brought in making piteous moan over his wound; and yet here, though he do but let fall a groan, those very men who carry him off wounded, regarding the Gravity of the Person, stuck not to say;

The judicious Poet perceives, that acquaintance with trouble, is no mean School-mistress of Pati­ence. Yet Ulysses, in great Pain, crys out, not out-ragiously.

Then is ready to saint away; but soon recovering, quiets himself.

See you how still he is grown, not upon abate­ment of his Bodies Pain; but repressing the Vexa­tion of his mind? Therefore towards the latter end of the same Play he chideth others, and that being ready to dye.

The softer part of his Soul was so rang'd under the Obedience of Reason, as a discreet Souldier under a strict General.

SECT. XXII. Armour against Impatience.

THE man in whom perfection of Wisdom shall be (c) (for yet we see none such, but what he will be, if ever he be, is plainly described in his Character made by the Philosophers) He, I say, or that Reason, which shall be perfect and abso­lute in him, will so keep in subjection the inferior part, as a loving Father his dutiful Children; he will, with a beck, obtain what he pleaseth; with­out any Pains, any Trouble. He will rouse, ex­cite, furnish, arm himself, that he may so resist Pain as an Enemy; what now is that Armour, Stoutness, Resolution, and an inward Check upon himself, as he thus reflects; take heed of doing any thing dishonourable, low-spirited, unmanly. Let noble Presidents be still presented to the mind. (d) Zeno the Eleate would be laid before us, who suffered any thing rather than to discover his Ac­complices, in abolishing the Tyranny over his Country. Let (e) Anaxarchus of the School of Democritus be thought upon, who falling into the hands of Nicocreon King of Cyprus, neither petition'd him, nor declin'd any sort of torment. (f) Kala­nus the Indian, no Scholar, but a rude Barbarian, born at the foot of Caucasus, was voluntarily burn'd alive. We, if but a Foot or Tooth do but Ake, (but, suppose Aches over the whole Body) cannot endure it: For we have a certain effeminate and loose Opinion; nor that in Pain only, but all one in Plea­sure; [Page 134] with which, when we are dissolv'd, and swim in ease, we cannot endure to be stung by a Bee, without setting up an out-cry. But now C. Ma­rius, a Rustick man, but in truth a man, when he was cut, as I mention'd before, at first forbid his being bound. Nor is it reported of any one, be­fore Marius, that he was loose whilst he was cut. How, then, came others, afterwards, to do the like? The Authority of the Patern sway'd with them. Do you perceive, therefore, that the evil ariseth from our conceit, not the Nature of the Thing? And yet, that the Pain was very pungent, the same Marius shew'd; for he would not hold forth his other Leg: So he both approv'd himself to have the stoutness of a man, in enduring Pain; and again, the tenderness of man, in that he would not abide more, without necessary cause. This, therefore, is all in all, to command our selves. And what sort of commanding this is, I have shew'd. Now this Consideration, what is beseeming our Patience, our Courage, our Gallantry of mind, not only restrains our Spirits; but after a secret unaccountable manner, doth alleviate the very Pain it self.

SECT. XXIII. Faintness of Spirit dishonourable.

FOR as it falls out in Battle, that the Coward and timorous Souldier, as soon as he sees the Face of an Enemy, flingeth away his Shield, and sets on running as fast as ever he can; and for that very reason, sometimes is lost before he had re­ceiv'd any wound; when no such thing befalls him who keeps his ground. So they who cannot abide the appearance of Pain, cast away themselves, and so grown heartless, sink under Affliction; whereas they who have resisted it, most commonly come off with Victory. Now there are certain resem­blances of the Soul with the Body. As Burdens are more easily borne, whilst Bodies bear upright, if these give way, they overwhelm them: Just in like manner, the Soul, by putting forth its utmost Efforts, doth bear off all the pressure of those grievances which burthen it; but, upon shrinking, is so follow'd, that it can never raise it self up. And to speak the truth, an intention of the whole mind, is to be used in the Prosecution of all Offices of Life, for it is the sole guard of Duty. But, in Pain chiefly, we must watch that we do nothing despondingly, nothing after a Cowardly, Slavish, effeminate manner; and especially that the yelling out, like that of Philocte­tes above, be disapproved, and utterly rejected. Sometimes it may be allowable for a man to sigh, and that but seldom; roaring out is not so, no not to a Woman. And this, indeed, is that lamenta­tion [Page 137] which the twelve Tables prohibited the use o in Funerals. Nor will a valiant and wise man, ever so much as let a groan escape, unless it be in strain­ing to put forth greater strength. As Runners for a Prize. shout as loud as ever they can in the Race: So do Wrestlers, whilst they are in the Exercise; but Cuffers, even then when they give their Adver­sary a Blow, as they fetch their Whorle-bats round, let go a sigh; not that they are grieved, or out of heart, but because the stress of their whole Body vents it self in an audible voice, and the Blow is set on with greater vehemency.

SECT. XXIV. Resolution necessary in War.

WHAT? they that would speak louder than ordinary, are they contented to strain their Sides, Throat and Tongue, out of which Or­gans, we see the voice raised and poured plenti­fully forth? They force their whole Body, and as it were, stand on Tip-toes (as the Proverb is) to promote the earnestness of their utterance. I speak no untruth, (g) I saw Mark Antony, when he made his earnest defence, being impeach'd upon the Varian Law, touch the very ground with his Knee. (h) For as Cross-Bows, wrought up with Cap-stones, shoot forth their Stones, (i) and other Engines their respective Darts, with so much the more violence, as they are strain'd and skrew'd higher, so the Voice, so the Running, so the Blow falls heavier, with the greater Spring it is set on. [Page 138] Now, since there is so great force of this straining, if a groan in Pain shall any way conduce to force the Soul, we shall do well to vent it; but if that sigh shall be lamenting, if feeble, if base, if whin­ing, he that should render himself to such low Passion, I should hardly allow for a man. Which sighing too, if it did Administer any real relief, yet it were, for all that, to be consider'd, what were the part of a gallant and couragious man; but since it abateth nothing of Pain, why do we chuse to disgrace our selves to no purpose? For what is more discreditable to any man, than crying like a Wo­man. Now this Rule, which is given about Pain, is of larger extent, for we must resist all Occur­rences; not only Pain, with the like intention of Spirit. Passion bursts forth; Lust disturbeth. We must fly for refuge into the same Fortress; must stand to the same Arms; but because our present Discourse is of Pain, let us wave these Particulars. It is therefore of main advantage towards the pati­ent and calm enduring of Pain, to consider with our whole heart, as goes the word, how honour­able it is. For we are naturally, as I said before, (and oft'ner it must be said) most eager and zealous upon Honour; if we see any twinkling of that, though but thorough a Crevis, there is nothing which we are not ready to bear, and go thorough with, that we may obtain it. It is from this race and eagerness of our Souls, after true praise and Honour, that those dangers in Battle are under­taken. Men of Valour feel not their wounds in the Field; or feel them they do, but choose rather to dye, than to part with the least punctilio of their Honour. The Decii beheld the glittering Swords of their Enemies, when they charg'd upon their main Body; but the nobleness of their death, and [Page 139] the glory of their Names, render'd easie to them, all the apprehension of wounds. Can you imagine (k) that Epaminondas then gave a groan, when he found his Life run out together with his Blood? Since he left his Country in command over the Lacedemonians, which he had found in subjection to them. These are the Comforts, these the Lenitives of the great­est Pains.

SECT. XXV. —in Tryals at home.

YOU will say, But (l) what are the Reme­dies in Peace? what at Home? what on the Bed of Sickness? you call me back to consider the Philosophers, who do not often engage in the Field. Amongst whom. (m) Dionysius of Heraclea, a very fickle man, after he had learn'd of Zeno to be cou­ragious, was by Pain brought to alter his judg­ment; for being troubled with Gravel in the Kid­neys, in the midst of his roaring he cry'd out, that his former Tenets about Pain, were all false. And when his Fellow-Pupil Cleanthes, asked him, what reason had prevail'd upon him, to quit his Principle, he replied, Because, I had studied Philosophy so much, and yet could not endure Pain; therefore he concluded that Pain was evil. Now I have spent many years in Philosophy, and yet cannot brook it, therefore is Pain evil. Then is Cleanthes, after he had stamp'd on the ground, reported to have repeated a Verse out of the Tragedy called Epigoxi.

Amphiarchus, under ground hears't this.

Zeno, he meant, from whose Instructions he was vex'd, that the other had degenerated. (n) But Posidonius, our Friend, was no such man; whom both I have often seen, and will now relate what Pompey was wont to tell; which was, that as he [Page 141] came to Rhodes, (o) in his return from his Go­vernment of Syria, he had a desire to hear Posido­nius read, but he was inform'd that he was very ill, being much afflicted with the Joynt-Gout; how­ever he had a desire to visit him; as soon as he had seen him, enquir'd of his Health, and complement­ed him; and withall, added, that he looked upon it as his great misfortune that he could not hear him. He reply'd again, But you can; nor will I be so rude, as that any bodily Pain should occasion that a Person of your high Quality, should be disappointed in the Visit, wherewith you have honoured me. Hereupon he related, how, that as he lay on this Couch, he disputed with much Gravity, and at large upon this very subject, that nothing was good but what was honourable; and when the twitches of his Distemper would guird him sore, that he said of­ten; Pain, you do but loose your labour, be as trouble­som as you will, I shall never confess you to be evil. And indeed all eminent and renown'd Labours what­soever, by our contempt of them, come to be within a possibility also of being sustained.

SECT. XXVI. —and in all laudible enterprizes.

DO we not see, (p) where those Games, which are called Playing for Mastery, are in high Reputation, that no Pain is declin'd by such as un­dertake to strive for the Prize? In places too, (q) where Hunting and Horsemanship are in much esteem; they that would excel in that Skill, avoid no hardship. (r) What should I speak of our can­vasing, what of the pursuit after Honours? What Fire would not they run thorough, who formerly carried those places by Majority of Voices? There­fore Africanus was never wont to let Xenophon the Socratick go out of his hands, in whom he much commended this Passage, that the same labours are not equally grievous to the Commander, and to the com­mon Souldier, because the very Honour did somewhat abate the Commanders Trouble. But so it cometh to pass, that an Opinion of Honour bears great sway among the generality of the indiscreet and false principled, who cannot attain to the true Sense of [Page 143] it. Therefore they are carried away by the com­mon Cry and Judgment of the Multitude, to think that Honourable which is commended by the most. But as for you, though you be in the Eyes of the Multitude, yet I would not have you stand to their judgment, nor esteem that to be best, which they esteem so; (s) you must follow your own Conscience; if you shall take complacency in your self, upon a sound judgment, then will you not only conquer your self, as I before directed you; but all Persons also, and all things. Propose this therefore to your self, that a largeness and loftiness of Spirit, mounted as high as may be, above the common level and lower Road of Man­kind, being most conspicuous in looking down with contempt upon Pain, is the bravest thing in the World, and so much the braver, if it be re­mov'd from the multitude, nor Court applause, and only please it self. And truly, in my judgment, all actions seem more laudable, that are done without Ostentation, and calling the People to witness. Not yet that we should avoid them, (for all good Works are best plac'd in the light,) but because Vertue can have no Theater more ample than its own Conscience.

CHAP. XXVII. Our Patience must be of equal Temper, as to the Field in Battle, or the Bed in Sickness.

BUT especially let us inure our selves to this, that our Patience, (which, I have often al­ready said, we must confirm with a sturdy Reso­lution of mind) be uniform, as to all sorts of Suf­ferings; for oftentimes many, who, out of desire of Victory or Glory, or else to maintain their own Rights and Liberty, have received Wounds cou­ragiously, and bore them in quiet; yet the same Persons having relax'd the bent of their Resolution, cannot endure the anguish of a Disease; for nei­ther did they, out of Reason or Principles of Wis­dom, endure that Pain which they did endure, but rather out of Heat and Gallantry. Therefore some Barbarous and Savage People can Fight stoutly, but cannot bear Sickness manfully: On the con­trary, the Grecians, not over-valiant, (t) but pru­dent enough in their way, cannot look an Enemy in the Face, yet the same Persons take Diseases patiently, and with a Moderation, becoming Ma­sters [Page 145] of Reason. (u) But the Cimbrians (w) and Celtiberians shout in Battle, lament in Sickness. For nothing can be even, that doth not proceed from a steady Principle of Reason; but when you behold those that are led by desire or opinion, not to be deterr'd by Pain from the Prosecution and acquiring of their propos'd object; you must either conclude that Pain is not evil; or although we should agree, that whatsoever is rough and disagreeable to Nature, be call'd evil, yet it is so little, that it is swallow'd up by valour, so that it appeareth not at all. Meditate on these things, I beseech you, day and night. For this consideration will extend it self farther, and take up more room, than to be restrain'd only to this Point, about Pain; for if in all our Actions, we shall have regard to the avoiding baseness, and acquiring Honour, we may then out-brave, not only the Disciplines of Pain, but also the Thunder­claps of Fortune; especially having at hand (x) that refuge-provided by our yesterdays Disputati­on. For as if, when one is at Sea chas'd by Py­rats, God should say to him, Cast your self over-board, there is one stands ready to receive you; (y) as the Dolphin did Arion of Methymna; or, (z) as the Sea-born Horses of Pelops, bestow'd upon him by Neptune, who are said to have run along with his Chariot, skimming the Surface of the Waters; these shall take you up, and Land you at your de­sired Port: such a one would discard all fear; so when pungent and horrible Pains press, if they be so great, as not to be stood under, you see the place of retreat. This I have thought proper to be spoken at this time; but you perhaps adhere to your former judgment.

Indeed, Sir, I do not; and hope, that within this two days, I am delivered from the fear of two things, which I did most apprehend.

Tomorrow, therefore, at the hour; for so we have agreed: But I find you cannot hold to the Assignation.

I shall punctually, and the other exercise be­fore Noon.

We will be ready, and comply with your most laudable desires.

SECT. I. The Reluctancy of deprav'd Man, against his own Cure.

VVHAT should I take to be the Cause, most worthy Brutus, since we consist of Body and Soul? why an Art hath been sought out for recovering and preserving the Bodies Health, and the usefulness of it (a) attributed to the Invention of the Gods; but the Physick of the Soul was neither so much wanted, before it was found out; nor so much frequented since its discovery; nor is so agreeable and accepted by many; nay, is suspected and loath'd by the greater part; Is it because we judge of the Bodies Infirmity and Pain, by the Soul; but have no Sense of the Souls Mala­dies [Page 149] by the Body? So it happens that the Soul does not pass judgment of it self, (b) till that which is to give the judgment be distemper'd. Now if Nature had brought us into the World with an Original Ability, to look into, and clearly discern her Or­dinance; and that under her surest conduct we might pass the course of our Life; there would be no reason, why any should have use of Logick or Philosophy. But now she hath put into us only some small glimmerings, which we being suddenly corrupted with ill habits and opinions, so far stiffle, that the Light of Nature doth no where appear; for there are Seeds of Vertues innate in our very Souls; which if they might spring up till they come to maturity, Nature it self would conduct us to Happiness of Life. But now as soon as we are brought into this World, and taken up, we are presently encompass'd with all Corruption of Manners, and falshood of Opini­on; that we may seem to have suck'd in Error almost with our Nurses Milk. But when we are brought home to Parents, and then turn'd over to Masters, we are season'd with such variety of Mi­stakes, that Truth is forc'd to yield to falshood, and Nature it self to prejudicate Opinion.

SECT. II. Further Causes of the Depravation of Humane Nature.

THEN come in the Poets: These carrying a great appearance of Learning and Wisdom, are heard, read, con'd without Book, and stick in our Memories; but superadd to all, as it were, our highest Master, the People, and the whole Multitude, on every side, conspiring in favour of Vice, then we become entirely debauch'd in judg­ments, and fall off from our very Natures. So that they seem to me, to have envy'd us the Pre­rogative of the best Nature, who have judg'd no­thing better for man, nothing more desirable, no­thing more excellent than Honours, than Com­mands, than Popular Glory, toward which, the best of men pursue; and affecting that true Honour which Nature doth propose, as the sole object of its most diligent Enquiry, grasp at meer Emptiness and Vanity. These pursue no substantial and grand Figure of Vertue, but a superficial and sha­dow'd resemblance of Glory. For Glory is a solid thing, and substantial, not a faint shadow; it is the concurrent praise of good men; the incorrupt approbation of such as judge rightly, concerning excellency in Vertue; that answers to Vertue, as the eccho. Which being the attendant on honest Actions, is not to be re­jected by good men; but that which apeth it, po­pular vogue, a rash and inconsiderate cryer up of Vices for the most part, by a semblance of Honour, [Page 151] sets a false varnish in the place of a true and natu­ral Beauty. Men, out of this blindness, having been imported with an ardent desire after some sort of Excellency; yet having withall, entertain'd a false Notion, wherein it consisted; and what are its Properties; some have utterly subverted the Government of their Countries; others have fallen themselves in the Contest. Now these propound­ing to themselves the noblest end, do not so much willfully miscarry, as through mistake of the way; What shall we say of them, who are acted by the love of Money, or Pleasures; and whose Spirits are to that degree disturb'd, as that they come lit­tle short of madness, which is the Case of all un­wise men; can no course be taken for their Cure? Is it because Maladies of the Soul are less hurtful, than those of the Body? or because Bodies may be cur'd, there is no Physick for Souls?

SECT. III. That the Soul may have Remedies for its Di­stempers.

WHEREAS, in truth, there are more and more dangerous Diseases of the Soul, than of the Body: For even these latter, are therefore vexatious, because they reach the Soul, and afflict it. Now the Soul vex'd, is (as saith Ennius) to all quiet lost: Stays no where long; by new Lusts still is toss'd. Now what Bodily Diseases, in the whole World, can be more grievous than those two Dis­eases (to pass over the rest) I say, than Discon­tent [Page 152] and Lust? But how can it be prov'd, that it should be able to cure it self; when it was the Soul that invented the Art of curing the Body? And whereas the disposition of Bodies and Nature doth work much towards the curing of Bodies; nor are Patients yet come under cure by certain consequence cur'd; Souls, on the contrary, which are willing to be restor'd to their Health, and fol­low the Prescriptions of the Wise, do undoubtedly recover. In truth, there is a faculty of curing Souls, even Philosophy; whose succor is not, as in bodily Diseases, to be fetch'd from abroad; but we must, with our whole might, and by all means, labour that we may cure our selves. Although, as to Philosophy in its whole Latitude, how much it is to be desired and studied, hath been, I sup­pose, sufficiently discoursed (c) in my Treatise on that Subject, call'd Hortensius; and since that time, we have scarcely ever ceas'd, both disputing and writing upon Points of highest Importance: In these Books too, are laid down those Disputes which we had among Friends that came to visit us at our House at Tusculum. But because in the two former, there hath been spoken as to Death and Pain; the third days Dispute shall make this third Volum; for as soon as we were come down into our Academy, I bid any one of them, that were in presence, propose a Subject to debate upon: Then the Matter proceeded thus.

SECT. IV. The Position offers it as a probable Opinion, that a Wise man is liable to Discontent.

IT is my judgment, that Discontent may be inci­dent to a Wise man.

May the other Disturbances too; Fears, Lusts, Wrathfulness; for these are, in a manner, of that Nature which the Greeks call Passions, I might Diseases, and the word would fully justifie me. But the Expression hath not been received in our Language; for Pittying, Envying, Giggling, Re­joycing, all these the Greeks call Diseases, being Com­motions of the mind rebelling against Reason: but we may, as I suppose, style the same inordinate Emotions of mind, Distempers; Diseases we can­not, in any receiv'd Sense of the Word, unless you be of another judgment.

I am, in that, clearly of your mind.

Do you think then, that these are incident to a Wise man?

Plainly I am of your opinion, that they are.

Then truly this Wisdom, so much glorified, is of no great value, since it differs not much from madness.

What do you take every stirring the Affecti­ons, for stark madness?

I am not the only Person that take it to be so; but that which I use often to admire, I find that this was the Sense of our Ancestors, many Ages before Socrates, from whom all this Doctrine of Life and Manners is deriv'd.

How doth that appear?

Because the name of Distemper, signifieth a Sickness and Disease of the mind; that is, being out of Temper; and that crazedness of mind, which they called madness, or being distempered. Now the Philosophers style all Passions Diseases, and say, that no Fool is free from these Diseases; but they that are not in Temper, are Distempered. Now the Souls of all unwise men are not in Tem­per, therefore all unwise men are Distempered. Now this Temper of Souls, they judg'd to be plac'd in a calmness and constancy of mind; a mind destitute of these things, they called Distem­per, or Madness; because in a disturb'd Mind, as well as Body, there can be no good Temper.

SECT. V. That men, imported by Passions, are Mad.

NOR was that less ingenuous, when they term'd such habit of the mind, as is withdrawn from the conduct of Wisdom, being out of the Wits, or besides ones self. Whence we may perceive, that those who gave these Names to things, were of the same judgment as Socrates deliver'd, and the Sto­icks have firmly maintain'd, that all unwise men, are not sound in their Principle. Now the Soul that is any ways Diseas'd, (and the Philosophers, as I lately said, term these inordinate Motions Diseases) is no more sound, than the Body when it is Diseas'd. So it follows, that Wisdom is the soundness of the Mind; but Folly a kind of un­soundness, Distemper, and being out of the Wits. [Page 155] (d) And these words are much more significant and expressive in Latin than in Greek; as it occurs in many Instances a different Import; but of that elsewhere; now to the matter in hand. The im­portance therefore, of the very word, declareth of what Nature and Property the whole matter under question is. For they must needs be under­stood sound of mind, whose mind is disturb'd with no Passion, as with a Disease. Those who are con­trariwise affected, must needs be called unsound of Mind, Distemper'd, or Mad. Therefore nothing can be better express'd, than the Latin Phrase, when we say of men, that they are broke loose from Government, when they are transported with un­bridled Lust or Anger; although Anger it self be but a sort of Lust; for Anger is defin'd to be a Lust of Revenge. They, therefore, that are said not to be their own Masters, are therefore said so to be, because they are not under the Government of their Understanding; to which Faculty the Sove­raignty of the whole Soul is by Nature given. Now whence the Greeks derive their name for Madness, I cannot easily guess; but we are more distinct in our Terms than they; for we separate this Distem­per of Mind, which is joyn'd with Folly, and of larger extent from distractedness. The Greeks, in­deed, aim at a peculiar word, but are not very happy in it. What we call Rage, they term Me­lancholly. As though the Soul were only disturb'd by Choler adust, and not oftentimes, either by ex­cess of Wrath, or Fear, or Grief; with which sort of Rage, we say Athamus, Alcmaeon, Ajax, Orestes were transported. He that is in this Circumstance, the twelve Tables forbid him to have the manage­ment of his own Estate. Therefore it is not writ­ten, if he cometh to be unsound of judgment, but to be [Page 156] distracted. For they judg'd that Folly, that is, a shallowness of Parts, or a mind fickle and desti­tute of sound judgment, might discharge ordinary Offices, and answer the common and daily occa­sions of the World; but they look'd upon being distracted, as a total darkness of the Understand­ing; which though it seem a greater Evil, than want of a sound Judgment; yet is this of that Ma­lignity, that (e) a wise man may be distracted, but cannot be of an unsound Mind; lose his Rea­son he may, but cannot act against it, while he hath it. But this is another question, let us return to the Proposition in hand; I suppose you said it was your Opinion, that a wise man might be liable to Discontent.

In truth I am of that mind.

SECT. VI. The absurdity of denying a Wise man all use of the Affections, is declin'd.

IT is from good Nature that you are so mind­ed; for we are not hew'd out of the hard Rock, but there is implanted in the very Nature of our Souls somewhat tender and soft, which is subject to be beaten with the Sense of Evil, as with hardness of Weather. And Crantor of prin­cipal Renown in our Academy, said not impro­perly. I am by no means of their mind, who cry up a strange unintelligible Notion of perfect insensibility; whereas there neither can nor should be any such disposi­tion. My first option is, saith he, that I may not be ill; but if I be at any time, let me be sensible, whether any Incision be made, or part dismember'd; for that same dedolency is not acquir'd, but at the charges of long and sore Afflictions, whereby the Body is mortify'd, and the Soul harden'd. However we may do well to con­sider, (f) whether this be not the Language of such as flatter our Infirmities, and fondly comply with our carnal Ease. But for our own parts, let us take up a bold Resolution, not only to lop off the out-boughs of our disquiet, but to pluck up the very Roots with all the Fibres and tendrels of them. Somewhat will perhaps nevertheless be left behind, such deep rooting have the Stumps of Folly taken in our Hearts; but that only will be left, which is of necessary use. Take this for a cer­tain truth, unless the Soul be cur'd, which can never [Page 158] be done without Philosophy, there will be no end of our Miseries. Wherefore, since we have begun, let us deliver up our selves to be her Patients. Recover we shall, if we be put willing, and I will carry it on further; for I shall not only speak to Discon­tent, though I shall to that in the first place; but to every Distemper of the Soul, as I have laid it down, or every Disease of it, as the Greeks term them. And first, if it please you, let us proceed in the Stoicks way, who are wont to cast their Ar­guments into strict and bare Syllogisms; then we will dilate after our own Fashion.

SECT. VII. The Assertion oppos'd by an Argument from the Topick of Fortitude.

(g) EVERY Valiant man hath also Assurance, (since Confidence, by a vulgar mistake, is only restrain'd to a bad Sense, although derived from confiding, which is commendable.) Now he that hath Assurance, cannot be in Fear; for to have Assurance, and be in Fear, are implicatory. But he that is liable to Discontent, is also to Fear; for we Fear those things impending and approach­ing, [Page 159] at whose presence we are Discontented. So it follows, that Fortitude and Discontent are in­compatible. It is therefore likely, that he who is liable to Discontent, is also liable to Fear, to Faint­heartedness, and dejection of Spirit; and he that is liable to these, is liable to be a Slave, to confess himself, at some time or other, worsted; and he that can admit of these, will admit of timorousness and Cowardise; but these things are not incident to a valiant man, therefore neither is Discontent. Now none is Wise, but he that is Valiant; there­fore neither is Discontent incident to a wise man. Furthermore, he that is Valiant, must needs be brave Spirited; and he that is of a brave Spirit, invincible; and he that is invincible, must despise the World, and look upon it, as beneath him; but none can despise that, for which he can be Discontented. From whence necessarily follows, that a Valiant man is never Discontented; but all wise men are Valiant, therefore Discontent is not incident to a Wise man: And even as the Eye being out of order, is not duely dispos'd to the perfor­mance of its Office; and the other parts, nay the whole Body, when it is out of order, cannot dis­charge its Office and Duty; so the Mind being out of order, is not in fit case to discharge its Office. Now the Office of the Soul, is to use its Reason aright; and a Wise man's Soul is always so dispos'd, that he useth his Reason after a most right manner, there­fore it is never disturb'd; but Discontent is a di­sturbance of the Soul, therefore a Wise man will be always free from it.

SECT. VIII. —by another from that of Temperance.

IT is further likely, that he who is Temperate; whom the Greeks call Sober, and name the Vertue it self Sobriety, which I am wont sometimes to term Temperance, other times Moderation, and another while Modesty; which yet I know not but it may be rightly called Integrity; this is more narrowly express'd among the Greeks, who call men of Integrity only useful men; but the Term is of larger extent, for it is all sort of absti­nence, all sort of innocence; this hath no usual Name in Greek, but might be call'd by a word im­porting harmlessness; for Innocence is such a dis­position of mind, as to harm no Body. Integrity comprehends also all the other Vertues; which unless it were so great, and had it been confin'd within the narrow bounds of Frugality or Thrift, as some conceive, the Sirname of L. Piso had never been so honourable; but because neither he that, through Fear, hath quitted his Garrison, which is an act of Cowardise; nor he, who for covetousness, hath deny'd to restore a Trust secretly committed to him, which is an act of Injustice; nor he, who through rashness, hath miscarried in any under­taking, which is a piece of Folly; because none of these are wont to be call'd honest men, or men of Integrity: Therefore Integrity comprehends three of the Vertues, Fortitude, Justice, and Prudence; [Page 161] and if it do so, it is common to all the Vertues; for all the Vertues are link'd and fasten'd inseparably to one another. Therefore Integrity must needs be the remaining and fourth Vertue; for it seemeth to have this Property, to regulate and compose the Affections, always to repress the Enormity of the Will, and to preserve a constant Moderation in all things. The contrary Vice to which, is called Naughtiness. Frugality is, as I suppose, from Fruit, than which, nothing better springs out of the Earth. Naughtiness is hence, (though, perhaps it may be somewhat hard, however let us assay, though it pass but for an Allusion, if there should be nothing more) it is hence deriv'd from, that such a man hath not ought in him, whereupon he is also said to be nothing worth. He, then, that is Honest, or, if you had rather, that is Modest and Temperate, must of necessity be Constant; and he that is Constant, Quiet; he that is Quiet, free from all Disturbance; and consequently Dis­content; but these are the Properties of a Wise man; the [...]fore Discontent will be far from a Wise [...].

SECT. IX. —by an Induction from Particular Passions of Wrath, Envy.

SO that Dionysius of Heraclea Disputes not un­handsomly upon that Passage of Homer, where­in Achilles complains to this purpose, as I take it.

Is the Hand rightly dispos'd, when it is swell'd? or is there any other Member which hath a Rising or Swelling, that is not out of order? in like man­ner, therefore, the Soul, puffed up or swollen, is out of order; but the wise mans Soul is always in order, therefore it never rifeth, never swelleth. But now the Soul in anger is so; therefore a wise man is never angry, for if he be angry, he also Lusts; for it is the property of one angry, to desire a fix­ing the most grievous Pain on him, by whom he thinks he is injur'd; and he who covets that, if he shall obtain it, must necessarily be transported with joy; whence it follows, that he must rejoyce at anothers harm; which because it is not incident to a wise man, neither is it incident to him to be an­gry; but if Discontent were incident to a wise man, so also were the Passion of Anger; but because he is free from this, so must he be also from that of Discontent. For if a wise man were liable to Dis­content, so might he also be to Pitty, so might he also be to Envy. I use a word of active significa­tion, because the ordinary Latin word rather sig­nifieth passively an Odium, that so we may decline the Iniquity of the Term; now the Latin word for Envy, is deriv'd from a Verb, which imports look­ing very wistfully upon anothers Beauty; as in the Play Menalippus.

The Latin Construction seems wrong, but Attins said singularly well; who though he departs from [Page 163] Custom, at present prevailing, yet challeng'd the Priviledge of a Poet, ventur'd to follow the natural Analogy.

SECT. X. —and Pitty.

THerefore also the Passions of Pitty and Envy are incident to the same Subject. For he that is griev'd at some ones Adversity, is also griev'd at some ones Prosperity. (h) As Theophrastus deploring the un­timely death of Callisthenes his Fellow-Student, ma­ligneth the good successes of Alexander; therefore he saith, that Calisthenes light upon Relation to a Person of the greatest Power, and highest Fortune; but ignorant how to manage Prosperity as he ought. Now as Mercy is the being afflicted at anothers Adversity; so Envy is the being afflicted at ano­thers Prosperity. Whosoever, therefore, is liable to Pitty, the same is also liable to Envy; but Envy is not incident to a wise man; therefore neither is Pitty. Now if a wise man used to take Discontent, he would use also to take Pitty; therefore a wise man is not liable to Discontent. (i) These Ar­guments are thus brought by the Stoicks, and in­fer'd by legitimate Conclusions; but they are to be discours'd somewhat more at large, and with greater Variety. Yet we must maintain their Te­nets more expresly, who have proceeded upon the most couragious, and as I may say, manly Prin­ciple and Opinion. For our Friends the Peripate­ticks, though there be nothing under Heaven more [Page 164] Copious than they are, nothing more Learned, nothing more Grave, yet do not make out, to my judgment, a Moderation either of the Distempers or Diseases of the Soul; for every Evil, though but indifferent great, is great: But we are proving this, that there is no such thing at all in a wise man: For as the Body, if it be but indifferent, is not well; so if there be the same indifferency in the Soul, it is not in Health. Therefore our Ancestors did ex­cellently well name, as many other things after their Propriety, so Vexation, Disquiet, Anxiety a Distemper; and the Greeks express every disorder of mind, by a Term near the same; for they call every inordinate Sally of the Spirit, a Passion, which in that Language imports a Disease. We more properly; for the Distemper of the mind bears great Analogy with bodily Sickness. But Lust is not like Sickness; nor is immoderate Joy, which is an ecstatical and extravagant pleasure of the Mind. Nay, Fear it self is not very like a Disease, though it borders upon Discontent. But properly, as Sickness in the Body, so Distemper in the Soul, hath a name not sever'd from Pain; therefore the Original of this Pain, is to be laid open by us; that is, the efficient cause of Distem­per in the Soul, as of Sickness in the Body; for as Physicians, having found out the cause of a Disease, think the Cure found out; so we, having discover'd the Cause of Discontent, shall find out the method of curing it.

SECT. XI. The Cause of Dissatisfaction, is a mistake in Opi­nion.

(k) THE whole, therefore, is in Opinion; nor is that the Cause of Discontent only, but of all the other Passions also, which are four general ones, but sub-divided into more Particulars; for whereas every Passion is a Motion of the Mind, either destitute of Reason, or slighting Reason, or not obeying Reason; and the same motion is rais'd from an (l) opinion either of Good or Evil; the four Passions are equally distributed under two heads; for two arise from an opinion of Good; [Page 166] the one of which is a fond Pleasure, that is ele­vated beyond the due measure, from an opinion of any great Good, whereof we have the Possessi­on; the other may be rightly call'd, either a co­veting or Lust; which is an immoderate pursuit after some conceiv'd great Good, not obeying Reason. These two sorts therefore, fond Pleasure, and Lust, are disorderly upon a conceit of Good; as the other two, Fear and Discontent, of Evil. For both Fear is an Opinion of some great evil impending; and Discontent is an Opinion of some great Evil incumbent; and further a fresh con­ceit of such Evil, as that it is just to be disquieted at it; which cometh to this, that the Party grieving, thinks he ought to grieve. Now if we would pass that portion of Life which is allotted us with any Peace and Serenity, we must with our whole Strength and Succors from abroad, resist these Passions, which Folly in common Conversation sets in upon us, as certain Furies, and incenseth them. (m) But as to the other elsewhere; now let us, as we are able, repel Discontent. Let that be our present Subject; since you said that it was, in your opini­on, incident to a wise man, which I do by no means allow, for it is a desperate, wretched, de­testable thing, to be run from, as from a Pirate, by making all Sail, and tugging hard at the Oar, as is in the Proverb.

SECT. XII. The Picture of Discontent in certain unfortu­nate Princes.

FOR how like you, that Grandson of Tantalus, Son of Pelops;

Great Grand-son of Jupiter: Should he therefore have been so mean, so dis-spirited as to say;

Thyestes! will you condemn your self, and cast away the Comfort of your Life, (n) for the Power of anothers Guilt? What think you of (o) the man descended of the Sun? Do you not judge him unworthy to behold the very light of his Fa­ther?

Aeete, greatest of Fools, thou hast added these Evils to thy self; there were none such among For­tunes Inflictions on thee: And this thou hast done after the trouble had grown old, and the swelling of the Soul was asswaged. Now Discontent con­sists, as I shall make out, in a conceit of a fresh Evil; but you afflict your self, as it appears, for lack of Empire, not your Daughter; her you hated, and that perhaps not without reason; you could not, with any Patience, be without a King­dom. Now that is an impudent grief, to pine away with melancholly, because one cannot usurp Soveraignty over a Free People. (p) Dionysius the Tyrant, ba­nish'd from Syracuse, kept School at Corinth; so impossible was it for him to live without Empire. But what was more impudent (q) than Tarquin, who wag'd War with those who could not brook his Haughtiness. He then seeing he could not be restor'd to his Crown, neither by the Vejan nor Latin Arms, is said to have retir'd to Cunae, and in that City to have been consum'd with Vexation and Melancholly.

SECT. XIII. Not to Despair, under whatever pressures we lye.

NOW do you think this possible to befall a wise man, to be overwhelm'd with Discon­tent, that is, with Misery? For whereas every Passion is Misery, Discontent is a Rack. Lust hath its Scorching; Fond Pleasure its Levity; Fear a meanness of Spirit; but Discontent carrieth along with it more destructive Evils; a Consumption, Tor­turc, Vexation, Deformity. It tears, it frets the Soul like a Canker, and utterly brings it to Destruction. Un­less we put off this, so as to cast it away, we can never want for Misery. Now this is clear, that Discontent doth then arise, when somewhat hath the appearance, as if some great evil did seem pre­sent and pressing upon us. Here Epicurus is of the judgment that a conceit of Evil, is formally Dis­content; [Page 170] that whosoever looks upon any signal Evil; if he thinks that to be fallen upon him, he becometh immediately Discontented. (r) The Cyrenaicks do not think that Discontent is wrought by every Evil; but by that only which is sudden and unexpected. That is, indeed, of no small mo­ment to heighten the Trouble; for all sudden acci­dents appear the more grievous; to which purpose that Passage is quoted as well spoken.

SECT. XIV. Meditation on possible Events, abates the Evil of bad ones.

THIS Premeditation, therefore, on future Evils, renders their coming less insupportable by their being descry'd at a great distance in the way before their nearer approach. Hence the Saying of Theseus in Euripides is commended, which we shall take the Liberty to translate out of the Ori­ginal, [Page 171] as we have often done the like on other oc­casions.

Now what Theseus, saith he, heard of a learned man, that Euripides, by a Figure, transfers to him from himself; for he had been the Hearer of Anax­agoras; concerning whom they report, that upon the News brought of his Son's death, he reply'd, I know that I begot him Mortal; which expression declareth, that these occurrents are sharp to them, by whom they have not been consider'd. There­fore it is no question, but that all things which are reputed evil, fall more grievous, when they come unawares. So that although this be not the sole Cause which creates the greatest Disquiet; yet, because the foresight and preparation of the Soul is of great Power to the diminishing of Grief, let all the incidents to Humane Life be well consi­der'd by every man: and in truth this is that ex­cellent and Divine Wisdom, to have a full insight and experience of all the Chances of Humane Life; to admire nothing when it is happen'd; to suppose of nothing, but that it may come to pass, before it is come to pass.

SECT. XV. —Is also ground of Constancy.

NOW since Terence hath so aptly insinuated this Notion borrow'd from Philosophy; shall not we, out of whose Fountains it is drawn, both say the same thing better, and more firmly hold it? for this is that countenance always the same, which Xanthippe is reported to have used to de­clare, that her-Husband Socrates had, and that she saw him have one and the same when he went forth, and when he return'd home again. Nor was it that brow which M. Crassus the Ancient bore, of whom Lucilius reports, that he laugh'd but once all his life-time; but it was calm and serene, for so have we receiv'd by Tradition. And well might it be always the same countenance, when there was no alteration in the mind, by which the looks are fashion'd. Wherefore I receive from the Cyrenaicks, these Arms against contingent Events, whereby their approaching insults, may, through long Premeditation, be rebated; and withall I judge, that their Evil is from conceit, and not na­ture. For if it were in that object, why would they be alleviated by being foreseen? but there is somewhat more accurately to be spoken on this matter after we have look'd into the opinion of Epicurus, who judgeth that they must all of necessi­ty be Discontented, who conceive themselves to [Page 173] be under Evils, whether these Evils have been foreseen and expected; or whether they are grown old; for that neither are Evils abated by long time, nor yet alleviated by foresight of them; and that the poring on Evils not yet come, and perhaps that never will come, is foolish. For that all Evil is Vexati­on enough, when it is come; but he that is always thinking that some Adversity may possibly befall him, to him it becometh an everlasting Evil; but if it shall never actually come upon him, a volun­tary Disquiet is taken up on false grounds; so the mind is always vex'd, either with enduring, or ex­pecting Evil. But the relief of Discontent he placeth in two things, a taking of the mind from consider­ing its troubles, and setting it on the Contempla­tion of Pleasures; for he judges the Soul in capa­city to obey Reason, and to follow whether that leads: therefore Reason forbids to dwell upon the Causes of its Trouble: it fetcheth off from anxious thoughts, the sight of the mind dim'd with poring upon its Miseries; and when it hath sounded a re­treat from them, it pusheth it forward again, and provoketh it to look on, and with the whole fancy tast variety of Pleasures; with which he thinks the life of a wise man is fill'd, both through the me­mory of the past, and hope of following ones. This account we have given after our own fashion; the Epicureans deliver after theirs; but let us see what grounds we have to slight what they say.

SECT. XVI. The contrary Tenet of Epicurus and his Followers.

FIRST they do ill to reprove a Premeditation of future Contingences, since there is nothing doth so much take off the edge of Discontent, and weaken it, as the continual consideration thorough­out the whole course of our Lives, that there is no­thing but may befall us; as a Meditation on man's Frame; as on the condition of Life, and a Study to submit to it. This hath not that effect to make us always, but never melancholly; for he that con­siders the order of Nature, and the Vicissitudes of Life, and the Frailty of Mankind is not melancholly when he considers these things, but is then most principally imploy'd in the exercise of Wisdom, for he reaps a double advantage; both that in the con­sideration of man's circumstances, he enjoyeth the proper Office of Philosophy; and in case of Ad­versity, he is supported by a threefold Consolation. First, that he hath long consider'd that such acci­dents might come; which consideration alone doth most weaken and allay all Afflictions. Then he cometh to learn, that all Tryals common to men, should be born, as such, patiently. Lastly, that he perceiveth there is no Evil, but where is blame; but there is no blame, when that falls out, the Prevention of which, was not in man to warrant; for that sounding a retreat, which Epicurus en­joyneth, when he calleth us off from looking upon our Evils, is null. For not to take notice, or to [Page 175] put out of memory, is not in our Power, when those things gore us, which we conceive to be Evil. They Tear, Fret, Spur-gall, apply Torches for Torture, allow no breathing time. And you bid us to forgo what is against Nature; what remedy is by Nature given, would you wring away, that of a grief worn old? True, it is a slow Process, yet of great Efficacy which length and time do effect. You bid me consider the good, and forget the bad; you would say somewhat and worthy a great Phi­losopher, if you held those things to be good, which were most suitable to the Dignity of man.

SECT. XVII. The true Remedy assign'd.

SHOULD Pythagoras now, or Socrates, or Plato say to me; Why are you cast down? or why do you fret? or why do you sink and render to Fortune, which may perhaps pinch and prick you; cannot, to be sure, over-power you? Great force there is in the Vertues; rouse up them, if they chance to be dormant. In the first place will present it self to you Fortitude; which will oblige you to take such courage, as to contemn and count as inconsiderable, all the chances of Humane Life. Temperance will come with her, which is also Moderation, and by me a little before call'd Fru­gality or Staidness, which will suffer you to do nothing basely, nothing lewdly. Now what is more base or lewd, than an Effeminate man? Nay Justice will not permit you to behave your self in [Page 176] such sort; though she seem to have the least rela­tion to this business, which yet will thus bespeak you; that you are on a double account injurious; both in that you covet what is none of your own; since being born Mortal, you aspire to the condi­tion of the Immortal; and in that you take offence, to restore what you only borrow'd: but what Apology will you make to Prudence, instructing you that Vertue is self-sufficient, not only to living Well, but also Happily; which if it depend on Foraign Ac­cessions, and have not as its source from; so its resort to it self, and in the same Circle, comprising all its Pretensions, borrows nothing from abroad: I know no reason why it either should be thought worthy to be so much extoll'd in words, or so ea­gerly courted in Life. Epicurus, if you sound to me a chace after these Goods; I obey, pursue, follow your self my Commander; nay further, I forget my Evils, and so much the easier, because I do not so much as put these Afflictions into the rank of things truly Evil. But you draw off my thoughts to Pleasures. Of what sort? Bodily ones, I suppose; or such as the Soul, in order to the Body, entertains by remembrance of them past, or hopes of others to come. Is there any thing else in the case? Do I rightly explain your Sense? For those of that Perswasion, are still wont to charge us, that we do not comprehend Epicurus, what he means: why this he means, and that paultry Greek (s) old Zeno, the most subtle Dis­putant of all that Tribe, was wont, with great heat, and aloud in my hearing, at Athens, to argue, that the man is happy who enjoys present Pleasure, and hath a confidence that he shall enjoy the like, either through the whole, or a great part of his Life, uninterrupted by any Pain; or if he were [Page 177] disturb'd by any, that if it were in Extremity, would be but short; or if it prov'd longer, would have a greater mixture of Joy than Evil: he that consider'd these things would be happy, especially if he were satisfy'd with the good things already enjoy'd; (t) and had no dreadful apprehensions of the Deity.

SECT. XVIII. And verify'd in the Case of Thyestes, Aeetes; Telamon.

YOU have Epicurus's Scheam of Happiness drawn up in the words of Zeno, so that it is in vain to deny it. What now? can the Proposal and Contemplation of this Life, administer any re­lief either to Thyestes or Aeetes before mention'd; or to (u) Telamon chas'd from his Country, and living in Want and Banishment? upon whom this Admiration was made;

Now if any one, as the same Poet saith, both Courage and Estate hath lost; a Cordial is to be sought from those ancient grave Philosophers, not from these Sensualists. For what do they call a Store of Goods? Grant them, that to be without Pain, is the chiefest Good; although that be not proper­ly call'd Pleasure; but we cannot at once speak to all Questions. Is that the State to which we must be brought over, for the relief of our Sor­rows? Allow what they would have, that Pain is the greatest Evil; is there any Consequence, that he who lies not under it, because he is not under Evil, must therefore be in Fruition of the greatest Good? Epicurus, why are we shy, and loth to con­fess that we speak of that Pleasure, which your own self, when you have braz'd your Forehead, are wont to speak out? Are these your words or no? in that very Book which contains the System of your whole Doctrine, you say these words. (For I will perform the Office of a strict Interpreter, least any one should think it a Fiction of my own.) In truth I am at a loss, what to apprehend for that good, abstracting from those delights which arise from the tast; abstracting also from those which are convey'd by the hearing of Musical Aires; abstracting likewise from those agreeable Impressions which are made on the Eyes by the sight of comely objects; or any other Pleasures which are rais'd through the whole man from any Sense whatever; nor can it truly be said, that the Joy of the mind, is only to be reckon'd upon as good; for I have known the mind, upon that very account, transported with joy, upon hopes of all these things above-nam'd, that [Page 179] Nature would come to enjoy them, and be freed from Pain. Now all this he saith in the very words, that any man may perceive what Pleasure Epicurus means. Then a little after, he saith, I have often enquir'd, of those that pass for wise men, what good they left remaining, after they had abstracted from these things, unless they would utter a parcel of insignificant Notions, and never yet could learn any thing; but if they shall fall a canting of Vertues and Perfections, they will, in effect, say nothing more, but the means where­by the above-said Pleasures may be compass'd. What follows, is to the same purpose; nay, that whole Book which is of the chief good, is stuffed with such Sentences and such Expressions. Now would you exhort Telamon, in the condition mention'd, to take to this course of Life, that so you might divert the Melancholly? or if you should see any of your Friends under great dejection of Spirit, would you set before him a Sturgion, rather than a Dialogue of Socrates? would you invite him to hear the sound of the Organ, rather than the words of Plato? will you display before him, rich and gay Embroidery? put a Posie to his Nostrils? burn Odours? and will you bid him be crown'd with Chaplets of Roses? (w) But if you should go a little farther, then you will, to be sure, have wip'd off all sorrow from him.

SECT. XIX. —and Andromache.

EPICURUS, these things must be confess'd by you, or else those other which I have alledg'd according to the express word, are to be expung'd out of your Book, or the whole Book rather to be expung'd; for it is all over made up of voluptu­ousness. The question, therefore, lyes before us, how we should cure one of Melancholly, (x) that speaks after this sort;

What now must we clap to his mouth, a Cup of sweet'ned Liquor to still him from crying? or take any such course? Look now (y) from another Play in the same Poet:

[Page 181] Ye all know what follows, and particularly that,

O excellent Poet! however slighted by the Mo­dern Songsters of idle Sonnets; he is sensible that all sudden and unexpected changes do more deep­ly afflict; therefore having extoll'd the King's Power, which to all appearance was establish'd for ever; what doth he sub-joyn?

The Verse is singularly well, being mournful both in Sense and Words and Tune; to put her out of this Melancholly, what course should we take? Seat her in a Down-bed Couch, bring in a Minstrel, burn strong Perfumes, give her a Cup of Cawdle, provide her too a Dish of Meat. Are these your good things, by which the sorest troubles of mind are to be remov'd? For you asserted, a little be­fore, that you could not so much as apprehend any goods of other Nature; therefore Epicurus and I should be agreed, that the Soul is to be call'd off from Melancholly, to the Contemplation of good things, if we were but agreed what is good.

SECT. XX. Epicurus prov'd inconstant to his own Principles.

SOME will object. How now? do you think Epicurus meant any such thing, or that his Doctrine was licentious? I think so? by no means. For I see many things spoken by him severely; many excellent well Therefore the Controversie is, as I have often said, about his Logick, not his Morals. Let him never so much undervalue those Pleasures which he lately magnified; yet I shall keep in memory, what he judgeth to be the chiefest good; for he not only put it in the simple term Pleasure, but hath explain'd what he meant. Tast, saith he, and the embracing of Bodies, and Plays, and Musick, and beautiful Objects, with which the Eyes are entertain'd. Is this any Fiction of mine? Is it a Lye? I would fain be disprov'd; for what other Interest have I, but that the Truth may be disco­ver'd in every question? Ay, but he also saith, when Pain is once remov'd, Pleasure admits of no farther increase; and to be free from Pain, is the height of Pleasure. A few words, but three gross Absurdities: One is, that he contradicts himself; for but lately, having affirm'd that he could not imagine any good, but whereby the Senses are, as it were, tickled with Pleasure; he now supposeth, [Page 183] that Freedom from Pain, is the height of Pleasure. Can he utter more palpable Contradictions? A second Absurdity is, that whereas in Nature there are three Conditions, one of Joy, another of Pain, a third neither of Joy nor Pain; he taketh the first and third for the same, and confounds Pleasure, with not being in Pain. A third Absurdity, com­mon to him, with some other; that whereas Ver­tue is most desirable, and Philosophy was sought out for the acquiring of it; he hath separated the chief good from Vertue. Ay, but he commends Vertue, and that often. So did C. Gracchus all the while that he dealt forth great Largesles, and exhausted the Treasury, yet in words defend the Treasury. What tell you me of Words, when I see Actions? Piso sir-nam'd the Frugal, always voted against the Bill for Corn-Tickets. When the Bill was past into a Law, he that had been Consul came to re­ceive his Dividend. Gracchus perceiv'd Piso stand­ing in the Assembly, and asks of him, in the Audi­ence of the Roman People, with what consistency to himself, he could Plead the Priviledge of that Law, the passing of which; he had by Speech disswaded? I would not, Gracchus, saith he, it should be your Pleasure to divide my Goods among the People, man by man; but if you do it, I will put in for my share. Did not that grave and wise man sufficiently de­clare, that the publick Revenue was squander'd away by the Sempronian Law? Read the Orations of Gracchus, you will say he was an Advocate for the Treasury. Epicurus denys there can be any living pleasantly, without living vertuously. He denys that Fortune hath any Ascendent over a wise man. He preferreth a slender Diet before a sumptuous one. He denys there can be any time wherein a wise man is not also happy. All Notions worthy a [Page 184] Philosopher, but opposite to Pleasure. He doth not mean that Pleasure. Let him mean what Pleasure he will, to be sure he means that which hath no share in Vertue. Well, if we do not un­derstand Pleasure, do we not Pain neither? I deny then, that it is consistent with him, who measures the greatness of Evil by Pain, to make any men­tion of Vertue.

CHAP. XXI. The stoutness of the Epicureans taken down.

YET the Epicureans complain, Good Fellows as they are (for I know no sort of People less dangerous) that I am still picking Quarrels with Epicurus. I warrant the Competition is about some place of Trust or Honour. To my judgment the chief good is in the Soul; to his in the Body, I place it in Vertue, he in Pleasure. Now they fall to blows; nay, call the Town to help them; and many there be, that run in at their cry. On the contrary, I am the man that own no concern either way; am ready to be concluded by what they de­termine; for what great business is it? A Debate about the Punick War? yet in a Council of War about that, when M. Cato was of one opinion, and L. Lentulus of another, it never came to any heats. These are too passionate, especially considering that no very honourable Opinion is maintain'd by them; since in the Defence of it, they durst not speak in the Senate, nor in the Assembly of the People; not to the Army, nor before the Cen­sors. [Page 185] But I shall have occasion to deal with them elsewhere; yet with this intention, not to make any formal Contest. I shall readily submit to whosoever speak true; only I shall mind them, though it should be never so true, that a wise man acts always in subserviency to his Body; or, to word it more inoffensively, doth nothing but what may turn to advantage, maketh his own Interest the ultimate end and measure of all his Actions; yet because these Principles are not plausible, that they would keep their Joy to themselves, but for­bear to utter lofty words.

SECT. XXII. The judgment of the Cyrenian Sect, how far allowable.

THE opinion of the Cyrenaicks remains to be dis­cust; these think that Discontent then ariseth, when any Affliction falls upon us unawares; there is much in that, as I said above; and I know Chry­sippus is of the mind, that what is not foreseen, cometh with the greater Blow; yet this is not all. However an undiscover'd onset of Enemies, puts into some­what more Confusion, than what is expected; and a sudden Tempest at Sea gives greater Terror to those that are Sailing, than that which was some­time foreseen; and most such Instances have like Effects: yet when one looks narrowly into the Nature of unexpected Contingencies, he shall find nothing else, but that all suddain things seem greater; and that for two Reasons: First, because [Page 186] space is not left of considering how great the acci­dents are; and then because there seems to have been a possibility of Prevention, had it been fore­seen, the evil createth the sharper remorse, as if it had been incur'd by some fault of our own. That this is so, time demonstrates; that Process whereof doth give such ease, that though the Evils remain the same, yet the Trouble is asswaged, and, in the most, taken quite away. Many Carthaginians liv'd in Bondage at Rome; Macedonians when King Perses was made Captive. I my self also, when young, saw, in Pe­loponnesus, some Corinthians; these could have taken up that Lamentation out of the Andromache.

But perhaps too, they had already Sung it over so often, as to leave doing it any more; for such was their Look, Language, all their other motion, and presence that one would have taken them for Argives, or Sicyonians: and the Ruines, on a suddain beheld at Corinth, more affected me, than the Co­rinthians themselves; for long consideration through tract of time, had cicatriz'd their Souls. We have read a Book of (a) Clitomachus, which he sent to his Captive Country-men, to comfort them upon the rasing of Carthage; in that is a Disputation of Carneades written, which he saith he put down into his Note-Book; upon this Thesis, that it was the Respondents opinion, that a wise man would be discontented at the Captivity of his Country. What Carneades disputed on the contrary; is written; so great a Remedy therefore, of the present distress, is apply'd by the Philosopher, as would not have been requisite, when it had been grown old: for had the same Book been sent some years after to [Page 187] them in Bondage, it would not have been admi­nister'd to their Wounds but Scars. For grief di­minisheth by a soft and gentle progess, not that the mat­ter is wont to receive any change, or can admit it; but use teacheth that Lesson which Reason ought, that those things in reality are lesser, which to appearance were greater.

SECT. XXIII. Forecast of possible Calamities is needful.

WHAT need, therefore, is there of Reason, will some say, or of any Argument at all of Comfort, such as we are wont to use when we would abate the grief of those that are greatly de­jected? for this is obvious to lay before them, that nothing should be thought unexpected. But how will he bear his affliction more patiently, who knows that there is a necessity for such accidents to befall frail men? for this same Language deducts nothing from the Sum of ill; only acquaints us, that no­thing is befallen us, which should not have been expected. Nor yet is this sort of Address wholly ineffectual in comforting; but whether it have the most efficacy, again I cannot say: therefore these unexpected ac­cidents are not so considerable, as that the whole [Page 188] trouble should arise from thence. Perhaps they give the greater Blow; yet have not that effect to make Accidents seem greater, because they are new, but because they are sudden. Therefore there is a two-fold Method of finding out Truth; nor in those things only which seem evil, but in those also which pass for good; for either we en­quire of the Nature of the thing it self, of what kind it is, and how great; as sometimes concerning Poverty, whose burden we alleviate by recounting How small and few things they are which Nature craveth; or else we pass our discourse over from the subtilty of Arguing, to A [...]gation of Examples. Here So­crates is produc'd▪ here Diogenes; here that Passage of Caecilius.

For whereas Poverty hath still one and the same Force, what reason can be alledged, why it should have been (b) tolerable to C. Fabricius; others say they cannot sustain it; Therefore that method of comforting, which teacheth Accidents to be common to men, is like this second sort of Argu­ments; for such Disputation not only containeth this, to lead us into the knowledge of man's Na­ture; but further implyeth, that those things are in themselves tolerable, which others have born, and do bear.

SECT. XXIV. The use of Presidents.

THE question is about Poverty, many Patient Poor men are instanc'd in. About despising Honour, many that have fallen into disgrace are produc'd, and, for that very reason more happy: And particularly the Life of those is commended, who have prefer'd Privacy and Retirement, before Pomp and Business. Nor is (c) that Stanza of the most potent King, pass'd by in silence, who commends an old man, and declares him happy, because he should pass to his Grave ignoble and inglorious. In like manner, losses of Children, taken quietly, are extoll'd by producing instances, and thereby the Sorrows of them who exceed their due bounds asswaged; so the persevering Patience of others, causeth the Accidents to seem much less, than what they were before reputed to have been. Thus upon consideration, by degrees it appears, how much opinion hath impos'd upon us: Now this the above-mention'd Telamon declareth, I knew, when I begot them—and Theseus, On future troubles still I thought;—and Anaxagoras, I knew that I begot a Mor­tal. For all these Persons, by long consideration upon the Circumstances of Humane Life, under­stood that they were not to be dreaded, after the rate of vulgar Apprehensions; and in truth, as to my judgment, those who have long before consi­der'd, and those whom length of time cureth, seem to have been wrought upon, in a manner, by one [Page 190] and the same cause; only that a Principle of Rea­son healeth the former; Nature the latter; when that cometh to be understood, wherein the Re­medy consists, that the evil, which was conceiv'd to have been excessive, is not yet so great, as to cast down a state of happiness. This therefore is consequent, that through want of consideration, the wound is greater; but what they imagine, doth not follow, that when equal misfortunes befall dif­ferent Persons, he only is afflicted, by the mis­chance, on whom it fell unexpected; therefore some in distress, when they have been minded, that we came into the World upon those terms, that no man can pass the whole course of Life, without his share of suffering, are said to have been the more trou­bled.

SECT. XXV. The Cavil of Carneades examin'd.

WHereupon Carneades, as I find our Friend Antiochus Record of him, was wont to blame Chrysippus for quoting, as some wise passage, that Verse of Euripides.

He deny'd that Arguments of this sort, had any influence at all to the abating Sorrow: for, said he, that is the very matter of our grief, to be caught in such a cruel necessity; and a Discourse in re­hersal of other mens Sufferings, only to be suited to the Consolation of ill-natur'd Persons. But I am clear of a differing judgment, for both the ne­cessity of conforming to that condition, whereunto we were ordain'd, doth with-hold us from fighting, as it were, against God, and minds us that we are but men. Which consideration doth greatly allay Sorrow; and the recounting Examples is not pro­duc'd to give content to the malitious, but to in­form the judgment of him that is in trouble, that he is well able to bear what he seeth many have born before him, with Moderation and Patience: [Page 192] for they are to be staid up by all methods, who are sink­ing, and cannot hold together through excess of grief. Chrysippus was wont to make the allusion; as if the Greek word importing Sorrow, imply'd in the very Term, a Solution of the whole man. This evil Humour may be utterly expell'd, by lay­ing open, as I said in the beginning, the cause of Discontent: Now this is no other than an opinion and judgment of some great evil instant and pressing; therefore also bodily Pain, though the Fit be never so sharp, yet is sustain'd by enter­taining probable Hopes of Ease: and a Life led with Reputation and Honour, carrieth along with it such strong Consolation, as that no Affliction can touch those who so liv'd; or else Troubles make but a very slight impression on their Souls.

SECT. XXVI. The mistake, that trouble of mind is a Duty.

BUT over and above the opinion, that our evil is great, when a further opinion falls in, that we ought, that we do well; that it is our duty to be disquieted at any misfortune, then ariseth that violent Storm of excessive Sorrow. From this opi­nion come those diverse and detestable sorts of Mourning, neglects of being trim'd, smiting on the [Page 193] Breast, Thighs, and Head. Hence Agamemnon in Homer, and no less in Attius is personated.

Which occasion'd this ingenuous Saying of Bion, that sure the King was out of his Wits, to pull his Hair up by the Roots, as though melancholly were to be abated by a bald Pate; but they do all these things out of a conceit that they should be so done. Upon the same ground also, doth Aes­chines inveigh against Demosthenes, because he of­fer'd Sacrifice a Sevennight after his Daughters Death. But in how Rhetorical strains? how co­piously? what strong lines doth he compile? what words dart forth? that one would conclude a Rhe­torician may take upon him as much as he pleaseth. Which Liberty none could allow, unless they had this Principle ingrafted in their Souls, that all good men ought to be most grievously afflicted at the death of their Relations. From hence doth it proceed, that in troubles of mind, some affect solitary Walks, as Homer of Bellerophon.

Niobe is fain'd to have been turn'd into Stone; I suppose, for her eternal silence in Sorrow. He­cuba on the other side, for the bitterness of her Spi­rit and out-rage, they suppose faign'd to have been transform'd into a Bitch. Others again there are, who in their Distresses, often delight to vent their Complaints in Soliloquies; as that Nurse in Ennius.

SECT. XXVII. Farther illustrated.

ALL this do men in Affliction, and conceive it to be just, proper, and what ought to be done in such Circumstances; and it is no small Evidence, that this cometh from a pretended Con­science of Duty, in that such as mourn in State, if they chance to let any Action escape that looks like Civility, or speak a chearful word, they pre­sently recompose themselves to a disconsolate Garb, and confess their fault in having transgress'd the Ceremony of Mourning. Nay, Mothers and Tu­tors are wont to check their Children, and that not only by chiding, but also beating them, if they say or do any pleasant thing whilst the Family is in Mourning; they make them cry, what? when the time of second and less strict Mourning is come; and it is found by experience, that no advantage ariseth from Melancholly, doth it not declare that the whole business was voluntary and upon choice. What meaneth the Self-Tormentor in Terence?

He resolves to be miserable. Now doth any one resolve upon any thing against his Will?

He judges he should deserve the worst of Pu­nishments, unless he be miserable; you see plain­ly that it is an Evil of conceit, and not in its own Nature. What and if the very Object forbids La­mentation; as in Homer the daily Slaughters and great Carnage avail to Moderation in grief; in whom this Passage is found.

Therefore it is in our Power to abandon Grief at our pleasure, in compliance with our occasions. Now since the matter is in our Power, is there any occasion of such moment to be comply'd with, as a present riddance of Discontent? It was ob­serv'd that those who saw Cn. Pompey assassin'd, be­ing put in fear for their own Lives, at that most deplorable and dismal Spectacle, because they saw themselves surrounded with the Enemies Fleet, did at that time nothing else but hearten the Rowers, and further their escape; but when they had gain'd Tide, then began to break out into Grief and La­mentations: Fear therefore could give time of trouble to them; and cannot Reason and true Wis­dom repell it?

SECT. XXVIII. Rectify'd by consideration that our Sorrow avail­eth nothing.

NOW what can be of more importance to the laying down Sorrow, than a Sense that there is no advantage by it; and that it is admitted upon a pure mistake? And if it can be laid down, it can also not be admitted. It must therefore be con­fess'd, that Discontent is admitted by Will, and up­on Choice. Now this is evident by their Patience, who having often gone thorough many Adventures, bear more patiently whatever befalls them, and suppose they are harden'd against all Sense of For­tune; as he in Euripides.

Since then the being tir'd out with Miseries, alle­viates our Sorrows, it must necessarily be perceiv'd, that the object of our Sufferings, is not the real Cause and Fountain of our Grief; the greatest Phi­losophers, who yet have not attain'd to perfect Wisdom, (e) do they not understand that they are under the greatest Evil? for they want Wisdom: Nor is there any greater Evil, than want of Wis­dom; yet they do not Mourn: Why so? because [Page 197] Evils of this sort have not annex'd to them, that it is fit and reasonable, our Duty to be troubled for ones not being wise; which yet we do annex to that trouble of mind, which implys Mourning, and is the greatest of all. Therefore Aristotle accusing the Ancient Philosophers, who thought that Philo­sophy, through their Wits, was perfected; saith, They were either great Fools, or very Vain; but that he saw, within few years, there was made a great Acces­sion; so that in short time it would come to be compleat. Theophrastus also lying on his Death-bed, is said to have accus'd Nature, for giving (f) Rooks and Ravens a long life, who have no occasion for it; when men, whom it most imported, were so short­liv'd, whose Age, if it might have been of a longer Duration, the Consequence would have been, that through the Complement of all Arts, mens life would have been polish'd in every part of Learn­ing. Therefore he complain'd that he must be taken away as soon as he had but begun to have sight of this. What? among the other Philoso­phers, do not the best and gravest, confess their ignorance in many things? and that after the greatest proficiency, they have still more to learn? and yet are not discontented at the Sense of that Folly which remaineth in them, though nothing be more Evil; for there is no opinion mingled of an officious Grief. What say we of them, (g) who do not think it suitable for men to mourn? Such was Q. Maximus at the burial of his Son, a man that had borne the Consulship. L. Paulus after the loss of two Sons within few days. Such M. Cato at the death of his Son Praetor Elect. Such the rest whom we have collected in our Book of Consola­tion. What else pacify'd them, but only a Sense that Sorrow and Lamentation were not proper for [Page 198] men? Therefore, what some having taken for Duty, are wont to abandon themselves to Melan­cholly; that these men judging dishonourable, have repell'd Sorrow; from whence is evident, that Discontent is not in the Nature of the thing, but from our own opinion.

SECT. XXIX. That our Sorrows are by misapprehensions, ag­gravated beyond their own Natures.

ON the opposite part these things are alledged: Who is so senseless as to mourn on his own Choice? Nature brings Grief; which, say they, (h) your Crantor owns, must be given way to; for it pusheth on, and follows hard, nor can be any ways resisted; therefore that Oileus in Sophocles, who had but a little before comforted Telamon up­on the death of his Ajax, when he came to hear (i) of his own, broke forth into Passion; upon whose change of mind, is this said.

They who dispute thus, endeavour to prove that Nature can be no ways resisted; yet they confess that greater Resentments are assum'd than Nature imposeth. What madness is it, therefore, for us to exact the same of others? But there are several Causes of admitting grief. First, that opi­nion of Evil, upon the sight of which, and a per­swasion that it is such, trouble of the mind is a necessary consequent. Then again, men sup­pose [Page 200] they gratifie the Dead, the more heavily they Mourn for them. Over and above this, there is another Superstition, like that of Women; for men think they shall more easily, atone the Deity, if under the stroke of Divine Displeasure, they profess themselves (k) afflicted and laid prostrate. But many do not perceive how incoherent these things are, for they praise those who dye patiently; but think those worthy of blame, who bear with patience ano­thers death. As though it were possible, what is wont to pass for Complement among Lovers; that any one could love another better than himself. It is very fair, and, if you examine it well, just and proper to love those that ought to be dearest to us, as well as our selves; but to do it better, is im­practicable. It is not so much as to be look'd for in Friendship, that my Friend should love me more than himself; I him, then my self. (l) A Con­fusion of life, and all Duties would thereupon follow.

SECT. XXX. The Motives of Consolation, too often prove in­effectual, proceeds not from any defect in them, but our own indisposition.

BUT of this Point elsewhere; it serves our pre­sent turn that we do not impute our Misery to the loss of our Friends, least we be thought to love them more than they would have us, if they be sensible, to be sure, more than we do our selves; for as to what they say, that very many find no ease upon Suggestions of Comfort; and that the Comforters themselves confess they are miserable, when the tide of Fortune turns against them; both Arguments are answerable; for those are not na­tural Defaults, but personal Failures. Now a man may dilate very copiously in an Harangue against Folly; for both those who are not eas'd, invite others to be miserable; and they who de­port themselves under troubles, otherwise than they have advis'd others to do under theirs, are not more culpable than almost the generality, who being Covetous, reprove the Covetous; and be­ing vain-glorious themselves, those that are de­sirous of vain-glory. For it is the property of Folly, to look upon other mens Failings, and to forget their own. But clearly this is the greatest expe­riment, since it is plain, that Mourning is remov'd by long continuance; that this Power is not in the [Page 202] length of time, but in long consideration; for if the Suffering be the same, and man the same; how can there be any change in the Grief, if there be no change neither in the Object, nor the Subject of it. Therefore a long consideration that there is no Evil in the misfortune cureth the Grief, not the bare length of time. (m) Here they come in with their Moderations, which if they be Natural, what need is there of Verbal Consolation? Nature it self will prefix bounds; but if they subsist in conceit only, let that whole conceit be remov'd. I suppose sufficient hath been said, that Discontent is an opinion of a present Evil; in which opinion is contain'd, that we ought to admit Discontent. To this Definition, is by Zeno well added, that this opinion of present Evil must be fresh; but he in­terprets this term in such sort, that he doth not only mean that to be fresh, which fell out lately; but as long as there is in that conceited Evil, any force or vigor, and is still green, so long it may be term'd fresh. As that Artemisia, the Consort of Mausolus King of Caria, who built the noble Se­pulcher at Halicarnassus; as long as she liv'd, liv'd in Mourning, and consum'd with grief, languish'd to death. She had that opinion daily fresh, which is then not to be call'd fresh, when it is wither'd with Age.

SECT. XXXI. Directions for Comforters.

THESE then, are (n) the parts of Comforters, wholly to remove trouble of mind, or to abate the greatest part of it, or to stop it, and not suffer it to spread farther, or to transfer it to other occasions. Some think it to be the only Office of a Comforter, to perswade that the Affliction is not at all Evil, as Cleanthes holds. Some that it is no great Evil, as the Peripateticks. Some divert the mind from thoughts of Evils, to think of its good things, as Epicurus. Some suppose it enough to discover, that nothing unexpected, nothing Evil is befallen them. But Chrysippus thinks that to be the principal Point, in comforting, to undeceive the Mourner, if he thinks he discharges his bounden Duty in afflicting himself. Some also there are, who collect all these Topicks of comforting, for one is wrought upon by one Motive, and another by another; as we have heap'd up in a manner, all Arguments, into our single Treatise of Consolation; for my Soul was then big with Sorrow, and all Methods of Cure were to be practis'd. But the Season is to be observ'd, no less in Distempers of the Soul, than Body. As that Prometheus of Aes­chylus, to whom when it had been said;

[Page 204] Reply'd,

SECT. XXXII. The Method.

THerefore in Addresses of Comfort, the first Application must be, to inform that there is no Evil, or but a very small one in the Affliction. A second, to argue from the common condition of Life, and in especial, from that of the Mourners, if it have in it any peculiar Merit to moderate his grief. The Third, how it is the highest Folly ima­ginable, for one to pine and fret himself away to no purpose, when he understands there cometh no advantage by it; for Cleanthes comforts the wise man who stands in no need of comfort; because if you have perswaded one in Sorrow, that nothing is Evil, but what is dishonest; you do not take away from him his Sorrow, but his Folly; but that is no proper time for teaching. And yet Cleanthes doth not seem to me rightly to have consider'd this case, that grief may possibly be sometimes admitted upon that, which he himself confesseth to be the [Page 205] greatest Evil. For what shall we say, when So­crates had perswaded Alcibiades, as we have by Tradition, that he had not the worth of a man in him, and that there was no difference between Al­cibiades the High-born Prince, and any Porter? Now when Alcibiades was greatly troubled at this, and with tears beg'd of Socrates, that he would in­struct him in Vertue, and rescue him in Folly; what shall we say, Cleanthes? will you say that there was no Evil in that thing which afflicted Al­cibiades? what think we of those words of Lyco? who extenuating Discontent, saith, it is rais'd upon Suf­ferings in Estate or Body, not Evils of the mind. What now? that which Alcibiades griev'd for, was it not for the Evils and Vices of his Soul? As to the Con­solation of Epicurus, enough hath been said be­fore.

SECT. XXXIII. That it is a Duty not to be swallow'd up of Grief.

NEither is that Motive of the strongest, although it is both usual, and oftentimes to good effect: You are not the only Sufferer in this sort. This, as I say, is effectual, but not always, nor with all, for some reject it: but it imports how it is apply'd, for we must urge instances, how particular men have wisely born their Sufferings, not what they have suffer'd. That of Chrysippus is of greatest strength, as to its truth, but difficult as to the time [Page 206] of Sorrow. It is a great task to prove to a Mourner, that he Mourns out of judgment, and a conceit that he ought so to do. Thereupon, as in Causes, we do not always make the same state, (for so we call the several sorts of Controversies,) but suit them to the Season, to the Nature of the Cause, and to the Person, so in asswaging Sorrow. For we must discern what method of Cure each Person is capable of; but I know not how our Dis­course hath digress'd from the matter propos'd; for your question proceeds about a wise man, in whose judgment either there can be no Evil, where there is no Dishonesty; or so small an Evil, that it is swallow'd up of Wisdom, so that it can scarce appear. One who adds no imaginary Troubles, nor im­proves his Discontent, nor judgeth it to be right, to give himself the most grievous Torture, and to fret to Death; than which, nothing can be more wrong. Yet the sequel hath inform'd us, to my apprehension, although it were not the direct and proper question at this time, that there is no Evil, but that which may be call'd Dishonesty; so that we may withall see, whatever Evil there is in Discontent, it is not Natural, but contracted by our voluntary judgment, and mistake in opinion. Now that sort of trouble of mind, hath been han­dled by us, which is greatest of all; so that upon the removal of it, we judg'd the Remedies of the rest, not of difficult enquiry.

SECT. XXXIV. A Passage to the Remedies of Disquiet, arising from the particular Passions.

FOR there are certain Common places which are said about Poverty, about an inambitious and obscure Life; and severally certain Essays upon Banishment, upon the Captivity of our Country, upon Bondage, upon Maimes, upon Blindness, and upon every other Misfortune, to which the name of Calamity is appliable: The Greeks divide these into distinct Disputations, and separate Tracts: For they lack work, although their Disputations are full of delight; and yet as Physi­cians in carrying on the Cure of the whole Body, apply Remedies to the least affected part: So Phi­losophy having taken away trouble of mind in ge­neral; yet if any Error ariseth from Particulars, if Poverty bites, if Disgrace pinches, if Banishment casts us under a Cloud, or if any of the above­mention'd Calamities befall us: although every Affliction hath its proper Consolation; to which you shall hear discours'd when you please; but still we must recur to the same Spring-head, that all Discontent is stranger to a wise man, because it is idle; because it is admitted to no purpose; because it ariseth not from Nature, but Judgment, but Con­ceit, but a kind of drawing our selves on to Grieve, after we have determin'd that it is our duty so to do. Remove this which is wholly depending on our Will, and all that fretful Discontent will be ta­ken [Page 208] away; yet some Gripes and Resentments will remain in the Mind. Let them call this Natural, if they please; so the name of Discontent be for­born; a name grievous, vexatious, deadly, which can by no means be; and, as I may say, dwell with Wisdom. But how many, and how bitter are the Suckers of Discontent, which must all be pluck'd up; when the Body of it is fell'd down; and if need shall require, at several times; (o) for we abound in this leasure, such as it is. But the Form of all Passions is one, the Names diverse; for both Envy is a Passion, and Emulation, and Detraction, and Pitty, Anxiety, Mourning, Fretting, Melancholly, Lamentation, Sollicitude, Grief, Uneasiness, Vex­ation, Desperation; all these the Stoicks define; and the words which Irehears'd, have several No­tions; and do not, as they seem, signifie the same things, but differ somewhat, which perhaps we shall treat of elsewhere. These are the Fibres and Tendrels of the Suckers, first mention'd; which must be search'd out and torn asunder, that not one of them may ever shoot up. A great and diffi­cult Work; who denys it? But what is there excel­lent, which is not also hard? yet Philosophy professeth to effect it, would we but admit its Cure. Now thus much for this Point; the rest shall be ready for you as often as you will, both at this, and any other place.

SECT. 1. The Ancient Romans, probably not Strangers to Polite Learning, because Borderers upon Greece the Great.

AS in many other Instances, most worthy Brutus, I am wont to admire the Parts and Perfections of our Country-men, so especially in these Studies which they have but of very late time regarded, and brought over from Greece to this State. For whereas from the first Foundation of the City, Divination, Cere­monies, Common-Councils, Appeals, Court of Senators, Train'd-bands of Horse and Foot, the whole order of the Militia, were, from a Wisdom almost more than Humane, establish'd upon the Regal Constitutions, and some of them upon their Laws; so when the Common-wealth was deli­ver'd from the Oppression of Tyranny, (p) an ad­mirable advance, and incredible carriere was made to­wards [Page 210] all excellency. Now this is not the proper place to dilate upon the Customs and Ordinances of our Ancestors, upon the Discipline and Temper of our Government; this hath been with some diligence, treated of by us elsewhere; but espe­cially in those six Books which we have written of a Common-wealth. At the present, when I con­sider the Study of Arts and Sciences, I meet with many Circumstances whereupon to frame an opi­nion, that they also were imported hither from abroad, nor invited only, but follow'd also, and cherish'd; for they had almost in sight, Pythagoras, a man excellent and renowned for Wisdom, who was in Italy at the very time when L. Brutus the noble Founder of your honourable Family, set his Country at Liberty. Now the Learning of Py­thagoras spreading far and near, seems to me to have reach'd even to this State. This is probable to conjecture; so may it be trac'd by some signs. For who can imagine, when there flourish'd In Italy, Greece which was call'd the Great, having very large and powerful States; and the renown of Pythagoras first, and then of the Pythagoreans, was so great in them, that our Country-men should stop their Ears against their most learned Dis­courses. Nay, I suppose it was from the admira­tion of the Pythagoreans, that King Numa was re­puted by those of later Ages, to have been a Py­thagorean; for they knowing the Discipline and Rules of Pythagoras; and having receiv'd from their Fore-fathers, the Equity and Wisdom of that King; but being ignorant of Chronology, to adjust the Times and Ages proper to each one, by reason of the great Antiquity, thought that he who so much excell'd in Wisdom, was the Auditor of Pythagoras.

SECT. II. From their skill in Musick, Poetry, and Oratory.

NOW thus much for conjecture; as for the steps of Pythagoreans, although many may be trac'd, yet we shall content our selves with a few, because that is not the proper enquiry on this occasion. For whereas those Philosophers are said to have deliver'd some Symbolical Precepts in Verse; and to have relax'd their minds with suitable Notes of Musick from a serious intention of thought to a staid composure. Cato, a most grave Author, said in his Book of Origens, that this was the Custom at Feasts among the old Romans, that as they sat at Table, they Sung, in order to the sound of the Pipe, the Praises and Atchievements of renowned Persons; from whence it is manifest, both that Songs were compos'd to Tunes and Verses; which thing the twelve Tables farther declare, that Verse was so early in use, in that they make a Prohibi­tion, that it should not be made to defame another; this also is some Argument of Learning in those days, that Musick plays before the Cushions of the Gods, and the Feasts of the Magistrates, which was a Property of that Education, whereof I am now speaking. In my judgment that Verse of Ap­pius the Blind, which Panaetius much commends in [Page 212] an Epistle to (q) Q. Tubero, resembleth the Py­thagoreans. There are many things more in our Constitutions deriv'd from them, which I pass by, least we should be thought to have horrow'd from others, what we have suppos'd to have invented our selves; but to reduce our Discourse to the Point in hand. In how short a time, how many and how great Poets have arisen? and what Orators? that it may easily appear, that our Country-men could have at­tain'd to any thing, whensoever they did but set their minds to go about it: But as for other Studies, we shall speak to them elsewhere, if occasion require, and have already often done it.

SECT. III. That Philosophy was of later date with them.

THE Study of Wisdom must have been ancient among our Country-men; yet I do not find whom I could instance in before the Age of Laelius and Scipio. When these were young men, (r) I see that Diogenes the Stoick, and Carneades the Aca­demick, were sent Embassadors from the Athenians to the Senate; these men not having been employ'd before in any State-Affairs, and being the one a Cyrenian, the other a Babylonian, would certainly never have been taken off from their Sedentary Life and Philosophical Disputations, to be chosen [Page 213] to that Ministry, had not there been in those very times, in some of the chief Nobility, a studious­ness after Learning. These having committed to writing other Matters, some the Civil Law, others their own Orations, others the Monuments of their Ancestors, did express the noblest of all Arts, the Do­ctrine of well living, rather in their Conversation, than writing. Therefore there are scarce any, or very few Treatises in Latin, about this true and excel­lent Philosophy, which deriving from Socrates, hath still continu'd in the Peripateticks and Stoicks, who say the same thing in other Terms, whilst the Aca­demicks moderated in their Controversies, whether it were by reason of the importance of their Affairs, and their continual employment, or because they thought the Subject could not be render'd agree­able to the illiterate Vulgar. So it was, whilst they forbore writing, (s) C. Amafinius became an Au­thor, whose Books being once publish'd, the Mul­titude was so wrought upon, that they flock'd in especially to that Sect; whither it were because the Doctrine is so exceeding easie, or because they were allur'd with the soft Charms of Pleasure; or yet, because nothing better was prefer'd, they held fast what they had. Now, after Amafinius, many zeal­ous Promoters of the same way, writ many pieces, so that they fill'd all Italy; and what is the greatest Argument, that there is no solidity in their Do­ctrine, its being easily committed to memory, and acceptable to the ignorant; this they count the strength of their Party.

SECT. IV. The Position. That it is probable that a wise man is not free from all Passion.

BUT let every man maintain what is his Sense, for judgments are free; we shall adhere to our old Resolution, not to be ty'd up to the Impositions of any one Sect, to which we must yield our ne­cessary assent in Philosophy; but shall always en­quire after what hath most of probability in every Pro­position; which, as we have done often elsewhere, so did we lately, (t) with great diligence, in our Seat at Tusculum. Having therefore laid down the Disputes of three days, I shall couch the fourth in this Book. For so soon as we were come down [Page 215] into the lower walk, as we had done the former days, the matter proceeded thus.

Speak any one that hath a mind, what Sub­ject he would have disputed upon.

I am not of the opinion that a wise man can be free from all Passions of the mind.

That he is from Discontent, you were of the opinion, upon yesterdays Dispute; unless perhaps you assented out of complaisance.

No, in truth, for your Discourse satisfy'd me extreamly well.

You do not therefore think that Discontent is incident to a wise man.

I do not believe it is.

Nay, if that cannot disturb the mind of a wise man, neither can any other. For what? should fear confound him? Why Fear is of those things absent, at which present is Discontent. There­fore upon removal of Discontent, Fear is also remov'd. There remain two Passions more; excessive Joy, and Lust; if these be not incident to a wise man, the wise man's mind will be always compos'd.

I am clear of that judgment.

Which then had you rather? that we should presently hoyse up Sail, or, as is usual in putting forth out of the Harbour, to row a while.

What do you mean by that? for I do not un­derstand you.

SECT. V. The Method of the ensuing Disputation.

BEcause Chrysippus and the Stoicks, when they Dispute about the Passions, take up much time in the dividing and defining them; for that part of their Discourse is very small, healeth the Soul, and suffers not its affections to grow boister­ous. On the other side the Peripateticks bring many motives to allay the Heats of the mind; but pass by the pricking Thorns of Divisions and Definiti­ons. I enquire therefore, whether I should pre­sently spread the Sails of my Discourse, or should push it on a while before with the Oars of Logi­cians.

Do this latter, for the whole matter in que­stion will be more compleat by joyning both means of handling it.

That is indeed the more orderly way of Proceeding; but if any thing shall fall out to be somewhat obscure, you may do well afterwards to enquire about it.

I shall do so; yet you after your usual man­ner, will deliver those obscure matters plainer than they are deliver'd by the Greeks.

I will use my best endeavours; but there is need of heedful attention, (u) lest all should slip away, if any one thing escape you. Now what the Greeks call Passions, we chuse rather to call Distempers than Diseases; in the opening those, I shall follow the old Description which was first used by Pytha­goras, [Page 217] and then by Plato, who divide the Soul into two parts; the one they make rational, the other irrational; in the reasonable part they place Tran­quillity of mind, that is a gentle and quiet Con­stancy; in the other the turbulent Commotions both of Anger and Concupiscence, contrary to Reason, and at Enmity with it. Let this therefore be the source of all; yet in the describing of these Passions, we shall make use of the Stoicks Defini­tions and Devisions, who seem to me to handle this question most judiciously.

SECT. VI. The Definition of the Passions.

THIS therefore is Zeno's Definition, that a Dis­order, which he calls a Passion, is a Commo­tion of the mind, opposite to right Reason, and contrary to Nature. Some more succinctly, that a Passion is an over-vehement Affection, but they mean it over-vehement when it flys out beyond the due bounds of Natural Constancy. Now they will have the particular Passions to arise from two conceiv'd Goods, and two conceiv'd Evils, and so to be four. From the Goods they judge do spring Lust and Mirth: Mirth is of Goods present; Lust of future. From the Evils, Fear and Discontent. Fear from [Page 218] future; Discontent from present. For those things which are fear'd, when Imminent; when Incum­bent produce Discontent. Now Mirth and Lust respect a conceit of Good things. Since Lust upon the appearance of Good, being inveigled and in­flam'd, is imported after it. Mirth, when it hath once acquir'd what was coveted after, is elevated and exults. For all men naturally pursue, what things appear Good, and avoid the contrary. Wherefore so soon as any object is set before the mind, which carrieth in it some appearance of good Nature it self, pusheth us on to the acquiring of it. When this is manag'd with Constancy and Prudence, such Desire the Stoicks call a Willingness, we may a re­gular Will; this they think is in the wise man only, which they thus define. A regular Will is that which desireth a thing according to Reason; but that which is hurried on violently, in opposition to Reason, that is Lust and unbridled Concupis­cence, which is sound in all Fools. In like man­ner, when we are so affected, as being in the Fru­ition of some good that falls out to be after two sorts; for when the mind beats gently, and in an even temper according to reason, then it is call'd Joy: but when the Soul is flush'd without cause, and beyond due bounds, that may be call'd trans­porting, or excessive Mirth; which they thus de­fine an Elevation of the Mind, without reason. And because, as we naturally affect good, so we naturally decline Evil; which declining, if it be according to reason, should be call'd Caution, and understood to be in the wise man only. But if it be without reason, and with a base and sordid Dejection of Spirit, should be call'd Fear. Fear therefore is a Caution contrary to Reason. As for a present Evil, the wise man hath no concern about it; but [Page 219] a Fool hath that wherewith men are affected in conceited Evils, and let their Spirits sink, and are Melancholly, not obeying Reason. Therefore this is the first Definition, that Discontent be a dejecti­on of mind, contrary to Reason, so there are four Passions, three ordinate Affections; because there is no ordinate Affection oppos'd to Discontent.

SECT. VII. The Intellect Accessory to the Passions.

BUT they determine that all these Passions have their Causes, in the judgment and Opinion. Therefore they define them closer, so that it may be understood, not only how culpable they are, but also how much under our Power. Thus Discontent is a fresh opinion of a present Evil, under which it seems our Duty to be dejected and troubled in mind. Mirth a fresh opinion of a present Good, upon which it seems our Duty to be elevated. Fear an opinion of an impending Evil, which seems intolerable. Lust an opinion of an approaching Good, the presence and Fruition of which, would be beneficial to us. Now as to those Opinions and Judgments, which I said were Ingredients of the Passions, they do not say that only the Passions have their subsistence from them, but also the Effects of those Passions; so that Discontent causeth a certain painful remorse. Fear a withdrawing of the Soul, and a kind of flight. Mirth, an extrava­gant Jolity: Lust an unbridled Concupiscence. Again they interpret that opinion, which we have [Page 220] inserted into the Definitions above-mention'd, to be a weak assent. But under each of these gene­ral Passions, there are certain particular ones of the same sort distributed, as under Discontent, En­vying (for we must serve our selves of a less usual word, in order to the clearness of Explication, since the word Envy, especially in Latin, is taken not only actively, as it refers to him that Envys, but passively as to him that is envy'd for the Odium that is cast upon him,) Emulation, Detraction, Pitty, Anguish, Mourning, Bemoaning, Distress, Sorrow, Lamentation, Anxiety, Uneasiness, Self­afflicting, Despair, and whatever else be of the same Nature. Again subordinate to Fear, are Sloth, Shame, Terrour, Timorousness, Dismay, Confusion, Distraction, Cowardise; under Plea­sure, Malice, rejoycing at anothers Mischief, De­light, Boasting and the like. Under Lust, Anger, Wrath, Hatred, Enmity, Discord, Want, Desire, and the rest of that kind. Now these they define after this manner.

SECT. VIII. The subordinate Passions desin'd. Of Discontent and Fear.

THEY say that Envying is a Discontent, admitted upon anothers good Successes, being no ways prejudicial to him that envieth; for if any one be troubled at the Prosperity of one who hurts him, he is not properly said to Envy; as if Agamemnon should be so at Hectors: But he who is griev'd that [Page 221] another should enjoy those advantages which are no ways prejudicial to himself, he in truth is envi­ous. Emulation again hath a twofold importance, so as to be taken both in a good and a bad Sense; for the imitation of Vertue is also call'd Emulation; but we have nothing to do with it here in that ac­ceptation, for that is praise-worthy. And there is an Emulation, a Discontent, if another enjoy, and one go himself without that which he hath eagerly coveted after. Detraction is now what I would have understood to be Jealousie, a Discontent that another should share in that which one hath eager­ly coveted. Pitty is a Discontent arising from the Misery of another suffering wrongfully; for no Body is touch'd with pitty, at the punishment of an Assassine or Traytor. Anguish is a sore Discon­tent. Mourning is a Discontent at the untimely death of one who was dear to us. Bemoaning is a Discontent with Tears. Distress a toilsome Discon­tent. Grief a tormenting Discontent. Lamenta­tion a Discontent with wailing. Sollicitude a Dis­content with pensiveness. Uneasiness a persevering Discontent. Self-afflicting a Discontent with In­flictions upon the Body. Despair a Discontent with­out any expectation of better condition. But what are subject to Fear they thus define. Sloth to be a Fear of ensuing Labour. Terrour an astonishing Fear: Whence it cometh to pass, that blushing followeth shame; paleness, and trembling, and gnashing of Teeth, Terrour. Timorousness to be a Fear of approaching Evil. Dismay a Fear that puts the mind besides it self; whence that of En­nius.

[Page 222] Confusion a Fear following, and as it were atten­dant on Dismay. Distraction, a Fear that breaks all the Measures we had taken. Dread, a perse­vering Fear.

SECT. IX. —of Pleasure and Lust.

AGAIN, the particular Branches from Plea­sure they thus describe; that Malice should be a Pleasure taken in anothers harm, without any advantage to onesself. Delight, a Pleasure charm­ing the mind, with the sweetness of the hearing; and such as is that of the Ears, such are those of the Eyes, the Touching, the Scent, and Tast; which are all of one kind, as it were Pleasures melted down to gratifie the Soul. Boasting is a Pleasure naturally Impertinent, and which exalts it self with some Insolence. But what Passions are subjected to Lust, they thus define; so that Anger is a Lust of punishing him who appears to have injur'd us Wrath is Anger breaking forth, and newly arisen which is in Greek call'd Heat. Hatred is an invete­rate Anger. Enmity, an Anger watching the time of taking Revenge. Heart-burning is a deadly feud conceiv'd with inward rancor of Spirit. Worldli­ness, an insatiable Lust. Expectation, a Lust of see­ing one who is not yet come. They further di­stinguish this, that Lust is of those things which are affirm'd of one or more (which the Logicians call Predicates) as having Riches, bearing Offices Want is a Lust after the things themselves, as Mony [Page 223] as Honours. Again they say the Spring of all Passions is Intemperance, which is a defection from the whole Understanding, and from right Reason. At such Aversion to the Orders of Reason, that its Affections can by no means be regulated nor re­strain'd. As Temperance therefore moderates the Affections, and causeth them to obey right Rea­son; so its opposite habit Intemperance Fires, Con­founds, puts into an Uproar the whole State of the Mind; therefore both Discontents and Fears, and all the other Passions take their Rise from it.

CHAP. X. The Original of the Distempers of the Soul.

AS therefore, when the Blood is corrupted, or Phlegm abounds, or Choler in the Body, Diseases and Indispositions are ingender'd. So the medley of perverse Opinions, and their opposition one to another, rob the Soul of its Health, and afflict it with Diseases. Now from the Passions first Diseases, as they so call them, are contracted, and those Ha­bits which are contrary to those Diseases, as having a deprav'd Aversion and Distast for certain things. Then Indispositions, which are call'd by the Stoicks Infirmities; and also contrary Aversions oppos'd to them. Upon this place too much Pains is taken by the Stoicks, and especially Chrysippus, it setting forth the resemblance between the Diseases of the Body, and those of the Soul; waving which Dis­course, not at all necessary, let us dispatch those things wherein the Matter consists. Be it therefore [Page 224] adverted, that whilst Opinions toss about, as they are inconstant and impetuous, Passion is still in motion. But when this boiling and tumult of the Soul hath fermented, and as it were, shed it self into the Veins and Marrow, then breaks forth both the Disease and Indisposition, and those Aversions which are contrary to those Diseases and Indispo­sitions.

SECT. XI. The Nature of Passion and Antipathy.

THESE things which I am speaking of, differ from one another in Speculation, but in re­ality are link'd together, and arise from Lust and Mirth; for when Mony is coveted, and Reason not presently apply'd, as a kind of Socratick Medicim, to cure that coveting; the Infection sinks into the Veins, and cleaves to the Vitals; and breaks forth into a Disease, and Indisposition of mind; which being grown old, cannot be pluck'd out; and the name of the Disease is Covetousness; and other Diseases in like manner, as Vain-glory, as multi­plying Wives, or, as the Greeks have it, Love of Women; and other Diseases and Indispositions of mind, do in like manner arise; but those which are contrary to these, they are thought to spring from Fear, as Hatred of Women, such as was in the Woman-hater; as Hatred of all Mankind, which we have heard was in Timon sir-nam'd the Man-hater, as is Inhospitality. All which Indis­positions of Mind, spring from a certain Fear of [Page 225] those things which men avoid and hate. Now they define an Indisposition of Mind, a strong conceit cleaving to the Soul, and deeply rooted in it, about a thing not truly desir'd, as though it were greatly to be desir'd. But as to that which ariseth from Aversion, they thus define it to be a strong conceit, cleaving to the Soul, and deeply rooted in it, about a thing not truly to be avoided, as though it were to be avoided. Now this conceit is an Opinion that one knows, what he doth not know. But under this Indisposition, such like Ha­bits are compris'd, Covetousness, Ambition, im­moderate Love of Women, Wrangling, Liquorish­ness, excess of Wine, Daintiness, and any other such-like things. Now Covetousness is a strong conceit about Mony, as though it were greatly to be desir'd, cleaving to the Soul, and deeply root­ed in it; so the Definition of other such Distempers is of like Form. Again the Definitions of Aver­sions are of such sort, as that Inhospitality is a strong conceit, that a Stranger should be greatly avoid­ed, which conceit cleaveth to the Soul, and is deeply implanted in it. In like manner is also de­fin'd, Hatred of Women, as in Hippolitus; and of all Mankind, as in Timon.

SECT. XII. The Analogy between the Sickness of the Soul and Body in ill habit.

NOW that I may come to the resemblance of Bodily Health, with the right State of the Soul. And we may make that Comparison, though less tri [...]ely than the Stoicks use to do; some are more inclinable to one Disease, and others to ano­ther, (therefore we call some Scorbutical, others Gouty, not that they are always in the Fit, but are often so) some to Fear, others to some other Passion. Whereupon carefulness is nam'd to be in some men, when they are call'd careful or worldly men; in others Hastiness, which differs from An­ger; and it is one thing to be Hasty, another to be Angry; for neither are all those careful men, who have sometimes Care upon them; nor have all careful men at all times Care upon them; as there is difference between being Drunk, and be­ing a Drunkard; and it is one thing to be a Bully, another a Suitor. Thus this Propension of some to one Disease, others to another, is of large extent; for it is applicable to all Passions; it is also appa­rent in many Vices; but the Notion hath not a di­stinct Denomination: Therefore men are stil'd both Envious, and Malitious, and Dirty, and Timor­ous, and Compassionate, because they are in­clinable to such Passions, not because they are always actually imported by them. This prone­ness therefore of every man to his respective [Page 227] Humour, peculiar to his Complexion, from re­semblance of the Body, is nam'd an Indisposition in such Sense as it may be meant a proneness to Distemper; but this, in good things, may be nam'd easiness. Since some are more ready to one good Quality, and others to another; in bad things a proneness; to connote a Propension to fall; in indifferent things it may have the former name. Now as in the Body there is a Disease, an Indisposition, and a Blemish; so also in the Soul.

SECT. XIII. The Similitude between soundness and unsound­ness of Body and Soul.

THEY call a Disease, a Corruption of the whole Mass. An Indisposition, a Disease with Infirmity. A Blemish, a Disproportion in the order of the Parts of the Body, from whence arise a crookedness of Limbs, Dislocation, Deformity. So that the formet two, Disease and Indisposition, grow from the Concussion and Disturbance of the Health of the whole Body. But a Blemish, with­out the Impeachment of Health, is discernable of it self; but in the Soul, we can distinguish the Dis­ease from the Indisposition, by thought only. But the Blemish of the Soul is an Habit or Quality of a Mind wavering all its Life, and at Discord with it self; so it cometh to pass, that in the one, Dis­ease and Indisposition, is caused by Corruption of Opinions; in the other by Inconstancy and Oppo­sition; for every Blemish hath not incongruous Parts, as [Page 228] that of those who are not far remov'd from Perfection. It is indeed a Quality jarring with it self, so far as it is short of Perfection, but not dislocated nor crooked. Now Diseases and Indispositions are Parts of being blemish'd. But whether Passions be parts of it, is a question; for Blemishes are Perma­nent Qualities, but Passions moving ones, so that they cannot be parts of the Permanent Qualities. And as the resemblance of the Body approacheth the Nature of the Soul in bad, so also in good Qua­lities; for Bodily Excellencies are Beauty, Strength, Health, a good Constitution, Swiftness, the like are also in the Soul. That Temper of the Body, wherein the parts of the Body hold a right Cor­respondence, is a State of Health; so is it call'd soundness of mind, when its Judgments and Opi­nions thereof, are at accord one with annother; and that is the Vertue of the Soul, which some call Temperance it self; others a Quality obeying the Rules of Temperance, and consequent upon it, nor having any particular Denomination of its own; but whether it be this, or that, they say it is found in the wise man only. Though there be a certain soundness of mind, whereof an unwise man is also capable, when he hath been distracted, and cured by the Physicians. And as there is a just Simmetry of parts, together with a freshness of colour, and that is call'd Beauty; so in the Soul, an even Temper and Constancy of Opinions and Judgments, with Resolution and Stedfastness; following upon Vertue, or making up the very Nature of it, is call'd its Beauty. Likewise from a Similitude to the Strength of the Body, its Sinews and Activity; the Strength of the Soul is nam'd in like Terms. Again the Swiftness of the Body is ham'd Celerity; Wit hath also a like Commenda­tion [Page 229] for quickness, when the mind can dispatch much bus'ness in a short time.

SECT. XIV. Their Dissimilitude.

THERE is the Dissimilitude between Souls and Bodies, that Souls in their full strength, cannot fall into Sickness, Bodies may. But the Disorders of Bodies may happen without any fault; of Souls, cannot so. All whose Diseases and Passions arise from a Disobedience to Reason; and consequently are to be found in men only; for Beasts do somewhat analogous, but fall not into Passions. There is again this difference between the acute and the dull Wits; (a) as the Corinthian Brass, in reference to Rust; so they fall into a Distemper slower, and are recover'd sooner; but it is not so with dull Persons. Nor in truth does the mind of the ingenuous fall into every Disease and Passion; for it doth not in­to many Brutish and Salvage ones; but some there be, that carry an appearance at the first sight of Humanity and Tenderness, as Compassion, Trou­ble, Fear. Now Indispositions and Diseases are thought to be remov'd with more difficulty, than are those greatest Vices, which are contrary to the Cardinal Vertues; for whilst the Diseases abide, the Vices cannot be taken away; because those are not so speedily cur'd, as these are remov'd. You have what the Stoicks accurately Dispute con­cerning the Passions, (b) which they call Logick, because it is argu'd with much Subtilty; now since [Page 230] our Discourse is gotten, as it were, clear from among those lurking Rocks; we will stand a direct course in the rest of our Disputation, if we have deliver'd these things with sufficient plainness, in regard of the obscurity of the matter.

SECT. XV. The Cure of the Souls Infirmities.

YOU have sufficiently; but if any thing stand in need of further Examination, we will enquire about it elsewhere; now we expect the Soul you mention'd, and the shaping your course.

Since we both have in our places, and of­ten must speak about Vertue (for most questions which concern Life and Manners, are deriv'd from Vertue as their Fountain) since then Vertue is a Quality of the mind constant and uniform, making those commendable in whom it is; and is it self upon its own account commendable, abstracting from any profit thence to grow; from it do proceed honest In­tentions, Expressions, Action, and all right Rea­son; although Vertue it self may most compendi­ously be call'd right Reason. The opposite then of [Page 231] this Vertue, is Vitiousness, for I had rather so call it, than Malice, for Malice, in Latin, is the name of a certain Vice; Vitiousness of all. From hence are gather'd the Passions, which are, as we said a little before, boisterous and violent Motions of Souls, averse to Reason, and the greatest Enemies of the Understandidg, and the quiet of Life. For they bear in upon us anxious and bitter Troubles, and afflict and disable our Souls with Fear. The same in­flame us with too eager Desire, which we call sometimes Coneupiscence, and sometimes Lust; an unruliness of Mind, set at the greatest distance from Temper and Moderation; which if it have at any time obtain'd what was lusted after, then doth it bring a cheerfulness; so that its whole work appears to be empty and unprofitable, according to his judgment who thinks immoderate Pleasure of the Mind, to be the greatest Errour. The Cure therefore, of these Evils, lyes in Vertue only.

SECT. XVI. Especially to be in Moderation.

NOW what is not only more pittiful, but also more ugly and odious, than a man in Ad­versity abandon'd to grief, and no ways moving to help himself? To which Misery he is next Neigh­bour, who fears any approaching Evil, and with­out coming to some Resolution, is lost in endless Debates: which Oppression of Evil, the Poets signifie when they make a ponderous Stone hang­ing over the Head of Tantalus in Hell, for his Im­pieties, [Page 232] the ungovernableness of his Spirit, and his irreverent Speeches against the Deity; that is a punishment common to all Folly: For there is al­ways impending over all whose heart is harden'd against the advice of Reason, some such Terrour. Now as these are Consumptive Passions of the Mind, I mean Discontent and Fear; so those pleasanter Concupiscence, always greedily desiring somewhat, and empty Mirth, that is, extravagant Jollity, do not much differ from madness. From whence is understood, what temper of mind he is of, whom, at times, we call Moderate or Modest, Grave, So­ber, and Constant; sometimes we love to rank these Names under the Notion of Frugality or Honesty, as its general Head; because unless these Vertues were comprehended under that Term, that saying would never have been so common, as that it is now past into a Proverb; that a Frugal, or honest, man doth all things well; which very Character, when the Stoicks attribute to their wise man, we take it for a meer Rant and Bravado.

SECT. XVII. This Moderation to be peculiar to the wise man.

HE therefore, call him by what name you will, who through Moderation and Constancy, hath quiet of mind, and is at Peace with himself; so as neither to fret out of Discontent, nor to be confounded with Fear, who neither is inflam'd with an impatient longing after any thing, nor ra­vish'd out of himself into the Fools Paradice of an empty Mirth; this is the wise man, after whom we are in quest; this the Happy man, to whom no occurrent of Life can seem either so afflictive, as to deject his Spirit, or so satisfactory as to elate it; for what, in this transitory Scene of Mortality, can he judge great, who hath Eternity in prospect, and under Survey the extent of the Universe? Can any thing, I pray, either in Humane Policys, or in this span of Life, seem great to a wise man, who so stands always upon his guard, that nothing new, nothing unexpected can befall him; nothing against which he is not already provided; and who still walks with such Vigilance and Circumspection, that he always provides himself a retreat and Sanctu­ary, of living without disquiet and perplexity, so that whatever change, Fortune shall bring upon him, he may bear it readily and with ease. He that shall do this, will not only be free from Dis­content, but also from all other inordinate Affecti­ons. Now this dispassionate mind renders men per­fectly [Page 234] and compleatly Happy; whereas if that be di­sturb'd and withdrawn from right and stedfast Reason, it loseth not only its Constancy, but also its Health. Wherefore the Opinion and Doctrin of the Peripateticks must be counted Lasche and Effeminate, who maintain the Passions to be ne­cessary, but prefix certain bounds, beyond which they must not pass. Will you prescribe bounds to Vice or is it no Vice to disobey Reason? or doth n [...] Reason sufficiently dictate that not to be good which you either eagerly covet, or grow haught upon the Acquisition of it? nor that again to be evil under the weight of which you either ly [...] over-whelm'd, or are ready to run distracted, le [...] you should be over-whelm'd by it; and that a [...] those accidents come to be either over-sad, o [...] over-joyous through mistake in Opinion; which misapprehension of it, abate in Fools upon leng [...] of time, so that the object continuing the same yet they bear it in one sort, when it is become old and in another, whilst it was yet fresh, that it should not at all affect the Wise. Now what can those bounds be? for let us enquire after the bounds of Grief, upon which subject the most labour is laid out. It is Recorded in Fannius, (c) that P. Ra­tilius laid to heart his Brothers repulse when he stood to be Consul. But he is judg'd to have ex­ceeded due bounds, for he so far resented it, a [...] that it cost him his Life; he should therefore have bore it more moderately. Suppose, then, he had taken that with Moderation, and upon it, the death of Children had fallen in, a new Grief would have arisen, but that moderate; yet the Addition would have been great: what, if, upon that, had follow'd grievous Pains of Body, if loss of Estate if Blindness, if Banishment, if, upon every parti­cular [Page 235] Misfortune, Griefs were to be added, the Sum would be inflam'd, so as to become intoler­able.

SECT. XVIII. The object of this Moderation must not be Vice.

HE therefore, that would look to set bounds to Vice, doth just as if he should fling himself down (d) the Cliff of Leucas, and think to stop when he pleas'd; for as he cannot do that, so neither can a mind disturb'd and imported, re­strain it self, nor stay at what degree of Passion it will; for what things are pernicious in their growth, the same are vitious in their Original. Now Discon­tent and the other Passions, to be sure, when heighten'd, are great Pests; therefore, so soon as admitted, have in them somewhat strongly Pesti­lential, for these push themselves forward, when once the hold of Reason is left; and the very weak­ness still feeds its own humour growing upon it self, till it is unawares carried adrift by the strength of its cur­rent, into the main Ocean, nor finds any ground for Ancourage. So that it imports nothing, as to any difference, whether they approve moderate Passi­ons, or moderate Injustice, moderate Cowardise, [Page 236] moderate Intemperance; for he that sets bounds to Vices, in part admits those Vices. Which, as it is of it self detestable, so draws it the more inconve­nience with it, because they stand on slippery ground, and being once put in motion, tumble down hill, and can by no means be staid.

SECT. XIX. The Peripateticks Opinion about moderating the Passions, of Anger and Lust.

WHAT say we to this, that these Peripateticks affirm those Passions which we think should be extirpated, not only to be natural, but also for good ends to be by nature given us? for thus they proceed. First they give great Commendations of Anger, call it the Whetstone of Valour, and say that the Charges of men in Fury, both upon an Enemy and a Seditious Citizen, are much more vigorous, but slight the petty Reasonings of those who move upon such Considerations; it is right or wrong to do thus or thus; meet it is, that we haz­ard life for our Laws, our Liberties, our Country; these Reflexions are powerless and ineffectual, un­less Valour be inflam'd by Wrath; nor do they li­mit this Maxim to Military men only; but think there can be no strict Discipline, without some roughness [Page 237] of a cholerick Humour: In a word, they take him for no good Lawyer, who not only in impeaching, but even in defending, doth not reflect upon his Adversary with some smartness of resentment. Nay though in truth he feel no Passion, yet they think it should be counterfeited in words and ge­sture, that so the action of the Orator may in­cense the Auditor. Lastly they account him no man who cannot be angry; and that which we call Gentleness, they represent under the ill name of Softness. Nor do they praise this Lust alone, (for Anger is, as I lately defin'd it, a Lust of Re­venge) but also say, that Lust in general, or ea­gerness of Affection, was to good Purposes, by Nature given us; for no man can atchieve any brave Action, who hath not a strong Inclination towards it. Themistocles walk'd about the Streets in the Night, being not able to sleep; and being ask'd what was the matter, reply'd, that the Tro­phies of Meltiades would not let him take his natural rest; who hath not heard of the late settings up and early risings of Demosthenes; who said it went to his heart if he were at any time prevented by the in­dustry of Artificers at their work before break of day. Lastly the most eminent Philosophers could never have made such advance in their Studies, without an eager Passion after Wisdom. We are inform'd that Pythagoras, Democritus, Plato travel'd into re­motest Regions; for they resolv'd to visit those places wheresoever any thing was to be learn'd. Do we ima­gine it accountable, why they should undertake this without an ardency of Affection, to have been the Principle by which they were acted in their Enquiries?

SECT. XX. —and Discontent.

NAY Discontent it self, which we have declar'd is to be shun'd as an harmful and Savage Beast, they say was ordain'd by Nature to singu­lar Advantages, that so men might be made sen­sible of their Faults, when they are chasten'd, re­prov'd, and put to shame for them; since those wh [...] are insensible of ignominy and disgrace, seem in a s [...] incorrigible and abandon'd to the full sway of their [...]controul'd Vices. Better is it to have remorses [...] Conscience; whence is that reparty in Afrani [...], morally said, and answerable to the use of com­mon Conversation; for when the Prodigal Son had said, Oh me!—the strict Father subjoyns.

They add that the other parts of Sorrow a [...] useful. Pitty towards moving to succour, and re [...] ­ving the Distresses of good men in Adversity. N [...] that Emulation and Detraction, are not useless when a man either sees that he hath not the same advan­tages with another, or that another hath the same with him. But if one should take away Fear, tha [...] all diligence would be taken out of man's Life which is the greatest in them who stand in awe o [...] our Laws, of Magistrates, of Poverty, of Igno­miny, of Death; yet they argue so, as to confe [...] that these affections are to be retrench'd; but say [Page 239] they neither can nor ought to be wholly rooted out; so that they hold a mean to be best in almost all things. Now when they thus explain these things, do they in your opinion speak nothing to the purpose, or something?

In my judgment truly they speak somewhat, and therefore I am in expectation what you have to rejoyn upon it.

SECT. XXI. Against this Moderation is oppos'd the Stoicks Definition of them.

I MAY perchance, light upon some rejoyn­der, but take this first. Do you not ob­serve what great modesty the Academicks use? for they speak directly what concerns the Matter. The Peripateticks are answered by the Stoicks. Let them even play their prize for me; who have no farther Obligation, than to enquire upon whither side lyeth the greatest appearance of truth. What is there then occurring in this question, that so somewhat probable may be apprehended in it, be­yond which, humane understanding cannot ad­vance? The Definition of a Passion, which I think Zeno hath rightly made, for thus he defineth it; that a Passion is an irrational and preternatural commotion of the mind; or more concisely, that a Passion is an over-vehement affection; but that should be understood to be over-vehement, which flys out beyond the due bounds of natural Constancy. What can I except against these Definitions? Now [Page 240] these are terms of sober and subtle Disputants, those other Rhetorical flourishes, to talk of Ardencies of Spirit, and Whet-stones of Valour. Cannot indeed a brave man, unless he come to be chaf'd, do bravely? that is Fencer like, although we often see, even in them a constancy of mind. They parly, approach, complain, demand somewhat, so that they seem rather to be good Friends than angry; but allow in men of that Profession, there be some Pacideianus, so minded, as Lucilius re­lates?

CHAP. XXII. That magnanimity is not the Product of Anger.

BUT now without any of this Fencer-like Fury, we see (e) Ajax in Homer marching with much cheerfulness when he was to fight in the sin­gle Combat with Hector, whose very gate, when he had put on his Armour, brought joy to his own Party, and terrour to his Enemies; insomuch as Hector himself trembled at the very heart, as it is in Homer, and repented that he had challeng'd him to the Duel. Now these having, before they en­gag'd, parly'd one with the other gently and In­quiet, [Page 241] did nothing, no not in the Combat, wrath­fully or in rage. I do not imagine that (f) even Torquatus, he who first won that Sir-name, was angry when he pull'd the Chain from the Galls Neck. Nor (g) Marcellus at Clastidium was therefore valiant, because he was in a Passion; as to Africanus, he is better known to us, as being fresher in Memory; I durst venture to take my Oath for him that he was not angry when he protected with the Interposition of his Shield, M. Halienus the Palignian in the Battle, and stuck his Sword into the Enemies Breast. As to L. Bru­tus I must demur, whether it might not be out of an infinite hatred of the Tyrant, that he charg'd Aruns the more furiously; for I see that they were both dispatch'd by an interchangeable pass upon each other. Why do you then call in anger hither? Hath Valour no Efforts of its own, unless it turn out­ragious? What say we to Hercules, whom the very Valour, which you call Wrath, exalted to Heaven? do you think he was angry when he encountred the Erymanthian Boar, or Nemeaean Lyon? or was Theseus angry when he caught the Marathonian Bull by the Horns; Look well to it, whether Fortitude be not far from being outragious; and Wrath wholly compos'd of levity; for that is no Fortitude, which is destitute of Reason.

SECT. XXIII. —but Reason.

THE World must be despis'd, Death slighted, all Pains and Labours reputed tolerable; when these things are our determinate Judgment and Sense; then is that stout and stedfast Forti­tude; unless perchance we suspect, that what­soever is done with earnestness, vigour, and cou­rage, is done in anger; in my judgment even Scipio that High Priest, who verify'd the Stoical Pa­radox, that a wise man is never angry, was not angry with Tib. Gracchus; then when he left the Consul sick, and being himself but a private Per­son, charg'd them whosoever tender'd the safety of the Government, in the Consuls name to follow him; I know not whether we did any thing vali­antly in our Government; if we did any thing, we are sure we did it not in anger. Is any thing liker Madness than Anger? which Ennius fitly called, the beginning of Madness. The Colour, Voice, Eyes, Breath, violence of Words and Actions, what Evi­dence do they give of ones being in his Wits? what is more ugly than Achilles in Homer? what than Agamemnon in his Brawl? for as for Ajax, An­ger brought him to Phrensie and Death. Forti­tude therefore needs not anger for its assistant; it is enough furnish'd, arm'd, provided of it self; for by the same reason one might say, that Drunken­ness were serviceable to Fortitude; and that Mad­ness were so too; because both Mad and Drunk, [Page 243] men do often many things with much vehemency. Ajax was always valiant, but most valiant in his Phrensie.

SECT. XXIV. This use of Anger confuted.

LET us therefore say, that Madness is useful; examine well the Definition of Fortitude, you will perceive that it stands not in need of Wrath. Fortitude therefore is a Disposition of the mind, submitting to the Supream Law, in a pa­tient enduring what it inflicts on us, or the pre­serving a steady judgment in the undergoing and repelling those things which seem terrible; or the knowledge of sustaining; or wholly slighting things terrible; and contrary to our Natures, preserving a stedfast judgment concerning them: or shorter, as Chrysippus; for the former Definitions were (h) of Sphaerus, one who had a singular good fa­culty in defining, as the Stoicks think; for they are all in a manner alike; but they declare the com­mon Notions one more than another. How then doth Chrysippus define it? Fortitude is, saith he, the Knowledge of enduring things, or a Disposition of mind in suffering and persevering to bear, in obe­dience to the Supream Law, without Fear. We may inveigh against these men as much as we will, as Carneades was wont to do; I fear they will prove [Page 244] the only Philosophers. For which, of all those Definitions, doth not open our Notion of Forti­tude, which all of us have of it cover'd and com­plicated; which being unfolded, who is there that would fetch from abroad any aid either for Soul­dier, or General, or Orator, and doth not think they can act couragiously without being in a rage. What mean the Stoicks, who say that all unwise men are Mad, do they not conclude these things? Remove the Passions, especially Anger; they will be taken to hold monstrous Opinions. But now they thus argue, that they affirm all Fools to be Mad, in such manner, as all mire stinks. But it doth not so always. Stir it, you will be sensible whether it do or not. So a hasty man is not always angry; pro­voke him, you will presently see him in a rage. What of that Military Wrath? when it is return'd home, how doth it demean it self with Wife? with Children? with Servants? is it then also useful? is there then any thing that a mind in confusion can do better, than it can when it is settled? or can any one be angry without disorder of mind? our Country-men therefore, although all Vices were in the rank of Diseases, because none was more foul than wrathfulness, did well name only wrath­ful Persons, as it were craz'd and distracted.

SECT. XXV. The Indignation of Orators, Displeasure of Pa­rents, or other Governours regular.

BUT for an Orator to be angry, is far from de­cent; to make as though he were, is not in­decent. Do you take us to be angry then, when we speak any thing in our pleadings, with some­what more than ordinary earnestness and vehe­mency? What? after the Tryal is past and gone, when we pen our Orations, do we pen them in anger?

Do we think (i) that either Aesop ever acted in anger, or Attius writ in anger? These things are acted handsomly, and indeed better by an Orator if he be a true Orator, than by any Player; but they are acted dispassionately and with a calm mind. But to praise Lust, what a piece of Lust is it? You produce me Themistocles and Demosthenes; you add Pythagoras, Democritus, Plato. What do you call Studiousness, Lust? which though it be after the best things, as are those in which you instance, yet ought to be compos'd and calm. But to praise Discontent, the thing of all to be most abhor'd; what Philosophers, I pray, must that argue? But Afranius said ingeniously.

Grieve he, though grieve for what he please.

He there spoke of a prodigal and dissolute Son, but our question proceeds upon a constant and wise man. Nay let a Captain or Ensign take this very anger, or others who are not necessary to be mention'd, least we divulge the Misteries of Rhetoricians, for it is expedient for him to serve him­self of Affections, who cannot make use of Reason; but the Subject of our Question is, as I often testifie, a Wise man.

SECT. XXVI. The pretended benefit of the other Passions dis­prov'd.

BUT further Emulation is useful, Detraction, and Pitty. Why should one pitty another, rather than succour him, if he is able? Cannot we be bountiful without pitty? Sure we are not bound to pull upon our selves Discontents in favour of others, but to relieve others of their Discontent, if we are able. Again, what use can there be in de­tracting from another, or emulating him with that vitious Emulation which resembles Rivalship; since he that emulates is afflicted at anothers good which himself hath not; on the other side, he that [Page 247] detracts is afflicted at anothers good, because that other hath it as well as himself. Who can approve that, if one would have any thing, he should ra­ther choose to sit down in Discontent, for being without it, then put himself upon attempts to gain it? for as to the affecting to engross it to himself, it is the highest pitch of madness. Again, who can justly commend Moderation in bad? for who is there, in whom Lust and Covetousness is, but must be lustful and covetous? in whom Wrath, but Wrathful? in whom Anxiety, but Anxious? in whom Fear, but Fearful? Do we therefore judge, that a Wise man is Lustful and Covetous, and Wrathful, and Anxious, and Fearful? of whose excellency much may be said in as large and co­pious manner as one please; but most succinctly thus, Wisdom is the knowledge of Divine and Hu­mane things, and perceiving the cause of every particular one, which hath this effect, that it imi­tates the Divine Perfections, and esteems all Humane Occurrents inferior to Vertue. Now did you give it for your opinion, that disturbance was incident to this temper, as to the Sea, which is subject to the Winds? What is there able to disturb so great Gra­vity and Constancy? is any unexpected or sudden turn? What such can befall him, to whom no con­tingency of Humane Life is unpremeditated? For as to their saying, what is excessive should be retrench'd, what natural left; I demand what can be natural, which also may be excessive; for all these things sprout from the Roots of Mistakes, which must be torn and wholly pluck'd up, not pared and lop'd off.

SECT. XXVII. Whence the Remedies of Humane Frailties are to be drawn.

BUT because I suspect you do not put the que­stion so much about the Perfect wise man, as about your self in a state of proficiency (for him you think to be free from all Passion, you would come to be so) let us see how great are those Re­medies, which are by Philosophy prescrib'd to the Diseases of Souls, for, to be sure, there is some Physick for them; nor was Nature so insense an Ene­my to Man-kind, as to provide so many means of recovery for Bodies, and none for Souls. To which she hath been so much the more kind, as that the aids of Bodies are fetch'd from without, the relief of Souls is inclos'd in themselves. But the greater and diviner Excellency is in them the greater Diligence do they need. On this account reason well consulted, behold what is the best, when neg­lected, is entangled in many Errors. Therefore my whole discourse is to be turn'd to you; for you put the case, as of a wise man, but perhaps you enquire about your self. There are then diverse cures of those Passions, which I have laid down; for every Discontent is not asswag'd the same way, for there is one method to be taken with him who Mourns, another with him that Pitties, another again with him who Envieth. There is further in all the four Capital Passions, this distinction, whe­ther the Discourse be better address'd against [Page 249] Passion in general, which is a disobeying of Reason, or an over-vehement Affection; or against the particu­lar ones, as Fear, Lust, and the rest. Again, whe­ther that particular object, which occasions our Discontent, be to be taken hainously; or whether we should be discontented upon any occasion at all. As if one should be troubled that he is Poor, whether you should dispute with him that there is no evil in Poverty; or that a man should be con­tented in every condition; clearly this is the bet­ter, least, if you should not perswade in the in­stance of Poverty; way must be given to Discon­tent; but if Discontent be remov'd by the proper Arguments which we used yesterday, the evil of Poverty is also in some sort remov'd.

SECT. XXVIII. The most certain method of cure, is to convince that all Passions are of themselves culpable.

BUT all such disturbance of Spirit would be clear'd by pacifying the mind, as thus, to in­form it how that is neither good, whence its Mirth or Lust arises; nor that evil whence either its Fear or Discontent; but this is the sure and Catholick Remedy, if you inform the Person that the very Passions are of themselves culpable, and have no­thing in them either natural or necessary; as we see even Discontent it self to be asswag'd, when we expose to Persons, impatient under Sorrow, the feebleness of an effeminate Spirit; and when we commend the Gravity and Constancy of those who [Page 250] endure the chances incident to Humane Life, without breaking forth into Passion; which also is the case of those who think these Afflictions to be Evils, but such as are to be born patiently. One taketh pleasure to be good; another Money; yet both the former may be reclaim'd from Intempe­rance, and the latter from Covetousness: but that other method, which both rectifieth the Mistake, and removeth Discontent; that is indeed the more beneficial, but seldom taketh effect. Nor is it to be address'd to vulgar Capacities. Again there are some Discontents which that Application can no way relieve; as if one should be troubled in mind, that he hath in him no Vertue, no Under­standing, no Conscience, no Honour, he is in truth afflicted for Evils, but a Remedy of another Nature is to be apply'd to him, and such wherein all Philosophers, though otherwise disagreeing, do consent; for all of them must accord in this, that stirrings of the Soul averse to right Reason, are faulty; so that whether those things which cause Fear and Discontent, be not Evil; or those which move Lust or Mirth be not Good; yet the stirring it self is faulty; for by him, whom we call a coura­gious and Gallant man, we mean one Constant, Com­pos'd, Grave, and undervaluing all Contingencies of Humane Life. But neither can one who Mourns, or Fears, or Covets, or Vaunts be such; for these are the Deportments of such as count the Events incident to Humane Life, to have an ascendent over their Souls.

SECT. XXIX. Laying open the changes common to our condi­tion allays excessive grief.

WHerefore it is the universal method of cure, as I said before, of all Philosophers not to descant of what nature is the object which moveth our Passion, but to discuss the Passion it self. There­fore first as to concupiscence it self, it being only propos'd to remove it, we must not enquire whe­ther the object of that Lust be good or not, but the Lust it self must be remov'd. So that whether honesty be the chiefest Good, or Pleasure, or both of them jointly, or the three sorts of good; how­ever ordinate be the affection, yet if it become immoderate, the same address by way of dehorta­tion is to be made to all. Now Humane Nature brought into view, infers all motives of appeasing the Spirit; which that it may be the more plainly discern'd in its colours, the common condition and terms of life, are to be explain'd in our Discourse. Therefore Socrates upon good grounds, when Eu­ripides first brought upon the Stage his Tragedy of Orestes, is said to have bid repeat him again the three first Verses.

[Page 252] Now towards the perswading that such misfor­tunes both may and ought to be born; the recital of such as have born the like is useful; although the means of allaying Discontent have been ex­plain'd both in yesterdays Dispute, and in our Treatise of Consolation, which we writ in the midst of our Mourning and Sorrow, (for we were not of them who had attain'd to Perfection) and what Chrysippus forbids the applying remedy, as it were, to the green Sores of the Soul, that did we, and of­fer'd violence to Nature, that so the Plaister might be as broad as the swelling that it was to discuss.

SECT. XXX. The like Remedy of Fear.

BUT bordering upon Discontent, concerning which we have sufficiently disputed, is Fear, about which a few things are to be spoken. For as Discontent refers to an evil present, so doth Fear to one future; therefore did some say, that Fear was a part of Discontent; but others call'd Fear a trouble aforehand, because it is as it were, the fore-runner of ensuing trouble; upon what accounts therefore present Evils are borne, upon the same following ones are slighted; for we must take heed in both, that we do nothing mean, base, cowardly, effeminate, low-spirited, and desperate. But although we are to speak to the inconstancy, feebleness, and levity of Fear it self; yet is it of good advantage to depretiate the objects of Fear: So that whether it were by chance, or upon design, [Page 253] it is fallen out very luckily that we have disputed of those things which are the great objects of Fear, Death, and Pain, the first and second day; which Reasons, if they were convictive, we are already in great part deliver'd from Fear. Thus much then be said to the opinion of Evils.

SECT. XXXI. The difference between Mirth and Joy.

LET us consider now that of Goods, that is, of Mirth and Concupiscence. I am of opinion in this whole account, referring to the Passions, the stress of the whole cause lyes in one thing, that they are all under our own Power, all taken up by choice, all voluntary. This mistake therefore, must be rectify'd, this opinion undeceiv'd, and as in conceited Evils they are to be represented tolerable; so in like Good, those which appear great and joyous, are to be render'd more calm. Now this is common to Good and Evil, so that if it be at this time difficult to perswade, that none of these things which di­sturb the mind, is to be reckon'd among either Good or Evil things; yet one sort of cure is to be apply'd to one affection, and another to another; and the malitious is to be amended by one course; he that is given to Women by another; the World­ling again by another; the Coward by another; and it were an easie matter, pursuant to that Sup­position which is most currant concerning things Good and Evil, to deny that an unwise man can ever rejoyce, because he never possesseth any Good [Page 254] thing. But we now speak after the common Cu­stom; allow them, since you will have it so, to be Good things, as they are reputed; Honours, Riches, Pleasures, and the rest; yet a vaporing and flashy Mirth in the Fruition of those very Be­nefits, is unseemly; as though Laughter be al­lowable, yet Giggling is blameworthy, for the flushing of the Soul in Mirth, is liable to the same censure, as the shrinking of it in Sorrow; and Con­cupiscence hath the same levity in Desire, as Mirth in Enjoyment; and as Spirits too much dejected with trouble, so the same too elevated with Mirth, are justly judg'd to be light. Now whereas Envy is a sort of Discontent, and taking pleasure in anothers Mis­fortunes, a sort of Merriment, both of them are wont to be redress'd, by discovering how barbar­ous and inhumane they are. Now as to beware is seemly, to Fear unbeseeming; so is it seemly to rejoyce, unbeseeming to be merry; since we di­stinguish Mirth from Joy, for greater clearness in Explication of the Point. This we have before de­liver'd, that dejection of mind can never be war­rantable, Elevation may, for Hector in Naevius doth rejoyce after one sort.

Chaerea in Trabea after another.

[Page 255] How brave this is, himself shall subjoyn.

SECT. XXXII. The scandalousness of Lust.

HOW indecent this Mirth is, any one who doth but mind it any thing near, may clearly see. And as those are base who are elevated in Mirth, upon the satisfaction of their Lust, so are they scan­dalous, who are carried forth after it with an en­flamed Concupiscence, and that whole affection commonly called Love (nor in truth do I find by what other name it may be call'd) hath so much of Levity in it, that I know nothing which I can think comparable to it; of which Caecilius.

Oh rare Reformer of Manners, Poetry, which thinks that Love, the Author of Leudness and Le­vity, is to be seated in the Counsel of the Gods! I speak of Comedy, and indeed there would be no such thing, as that whole Posie, did we not ap­prove of these Scandals. But in Tragedy, what saith the Prince of the Argonauts?

What then? how great a train of miserable Consequences did this love of Medea draw after it? and yet she dares, in another Poet, tell her Father, she had for an Husband one.

SECT. XXXIII. Inordinate Love tax'd in Poets.

BUT let us give Poets leave to be pleasant, in whose Fables we see Jupiter himself that way scandalous. Come we to Philosophers the pro­fess'd Teachers of Vertue, who deny that Love relates to uncleanness, and contest about that with Epicurus, not much, in my opinion, therein mistaken; for what is that Love of Friendship? or how comes it to pass, that none fall in Love either with an unhandsom Youth, or an handsom Old man? This Custom seems to me to have been taken its Original in the Academies of the Greeks, amongst whom those Amours are free and allow'd. There­fore Ennius said well.

These men, though they be, as I see they may be, honest, yet are perplex'd and anxious, and so much the more, because they struggle under Pro­vocations [Page 257] to refrain themselves. Now to pass by Love made to Women, wherein Nature hath granted a greater Freedom, who either in the rape of Ganymede, maketh any doubt what the Poets mean by it? or doth not understand what Laius in Euripides both speaks of, and Lusts after? or lastly what those learned and eminent Poets publish of themselves in their Songs and Sonets? Alcaeus a man of try'd Courage in his Country, what hath he written of his Love of Youths? as for Anacreon, his whole Posie is amorous; but Ibycus of Rhegium, that he was most passionate in his Loves, appears from his Writings.

SECT. XXXIV. —but more in Philosophers.

NOW we see all these mens were lustfull Am­ours. Philosophers are risen up of us, and our Plato is the Author too, whom Dicaearchus doth not without good reason, tax in that behalf, for giving Reputation to Love. The Stoicks too, both determine that a wise man may be in Love, and de­fine Love to be an essay of contracting Friendship upon the account of Beauty. Now if there be any such thing in Nature, without perplexity, without lingring, without care, without sighing, be it with all my heart, for it is free from Lust; but this Discourse proceeds upon Lust. But if there be any Love, as in truth there is some, that is not at all, or not much remov'd from madness, such as is in Leucadiae.

A worthy employment indeed, for all the Gods to procure him the good graces of his Mistress.

The truest word you could have spoken. The other also puts in not amiss.

So that he seems mad even to those about him; but what uproar did he make?

He thinks that the whole course of Nature must turn aside out of its way, to relieve his Passion. Only Venus he excepts against as partial.

He doth not allow her to regard any thing out of Lust; as though he did out of Lust both speak and act so scandalously.

SECT. XXXV. The remedy of Love.

WITH a man therefore, in this condition, such course is to be taken, as to shew him how slight, how contemptible, how worthless the ob­ject of his desire is; how easily it may be supply'd either from another place, or by other means; or be quite let alone sometimes too, the Person is to be taken off to other Studies, Employments, Cares, Businesses: Lastly, he is often to be cur'd, as consumptive Patients, by change of Air. Nay, some think that an old Love is to be cast forth by a new one, as one Peg is driven out with another. But especially the Party is to be inform'd how out­ragious the sway of Love is; for in truth of all the Passions, none is more violent. So that though one should not at the present inveigh against Debau­cheries, Rapes, Adulteries, and to instance in no more, Incests, the vileness of all which, is justly reproachable; but to wave all these, the bare dis­order of the mind in Love, singly by it self consi­der'd, is deformed. For to pass by, as I said, those parts of outrage, what fickleness is there in these, seeming petty Matters.

[Page 260] This inconstancy and changeableness of mind, whom would it not scare with the very obliquity of it? for here also must that be demonstrated, which is said of all Passions, that there is none of them, but in conceit, are taken upon choice, and voluntary; for if Love were natural, both all would Love and be lov'd; and would always Love, and would Love the same thing; nor would shame deter one, consideration another, a third satiety.

SECT. XXXVI. —of Anger.

BUT Anger, how long soever it disturbs the mind, is without Controversie madness; by the instigation of which, such ill Language passeth even between Brethren.

You know what follows, for bitter reproaches are retorted by one Brother, upon the other in Verses interchangeably; so that it may easily ap­pear that they are Atreus his own Sons; his who contrives a new vengeance upon his Brother.

What then is this Plot? hear Thyestes himself.

And sets their Bowels in a Dish before him; for what Degree is there that Anger will not arrive at, and at which Fury will? Hence we say of men in Passion, that they are out of all Government, that is Counsel, Reason, Understanding; for these ought to have the Government over the whole Soul. For men in this condition, either those are to be convey'd from them, upon whom they would fall violently, till they recollect themselves (now what is it to recollect ones self, but to rally the scatter'd and disorder'd parts of the Soul into their proper place?) or they are to be intreated and beg'd at to defer what thoughts they had of executing their revenge, till another time, when their Anger cools; now cooling implys, that the Spirits did boyl over contrary to the Dictates of Reason. To which that saying of Architas refers, who being in some heat against his Bayliff, said, How would I have order'd you, were I not Angry.

SECT. XXXVII. The Cause of Passions, an opinion that they are our Duty.

WHERE then are those that say Wrath is use­ful? Can Madness be useful? or natural. Can any thing be agreeable to Nature, and con­trary to Reason? Now if Anger were natural, how could it be either that one man should be more hasty than another; or that it could be over before the desire of Revenge be satiated, or that any should repent of what they did in Passion; as we see by King Alexander, for (a) after he had kill'd his Friend Clitus, he could hardly forbear offering violence to himself, so strongly did Repen­tance work upon him. These things being noto­rious, who can doubt but that this motion of the Soul is also wholly in conceit and voluntary; for who can doubt but that the Diseases of the Soul, such as Covetousness, Ambition, arise from this, that the object upon which the Soul dotes, is over­valu'd, whence ought to be understood, that every Passion also hath its being from opinion; and if assurance that is, a firm affiance of the mind, be a kind of Science and stedfast opinion of one yielding his assent upon good grounds only, then is Fear a diffi­dence of mind, upon some expected and impend­ing Evil. If hope be the expectation of Good, needs must Fear be an expectation of Evil; as Fear then, so the other Passions relate to Evil. As Constancy then is Fruit of Knowledge, so is Passion of Error. [Page 263] But as for some mens being said to be naturally hasty, or pittiful, or envious, or any such thing, they have Souls, as of an unhealthful Constitution, yet curable, as is said of Socrates, when Zopyrus a great Pretender to skill in Phisiognomy, had open­ly in company recounted many Vices, which he concluded from his Art to be in Socrates, he was derided by the rest who knew no such Vices to be in Socrates, but was help'd out by himself, who own'd himself subject to those Vices, but withall said he had subdu'd them by Reason. Therefore, as he that is in the best health, may be thought naturally proner to some Disease or another; so is one mind more inclinable to one Disease, and another to another; but they who are said to be vitious, not from Na­ture, but through their own default, their Vices consist of misapprehensions about things good and, bad; so that one is proner to one Motion and Pas­sion, and another to another; but evil habits in Souls, as Chronical Distempers in Bodies are more diffi­cult to be remov'd, than a simple disorder; and a sud­den swelling of the Eyes is sooner cur'd, than a long soreness is remov'd.

SECT. XXXVIII. The cure of them in rectifying that mistake.

BUT the cause of the Passions being already found, that they all arise from Judgments form'd upon Opinions, and our Wills, let this Dis­pute draw to a Conclusion. We must likewise know, that after the knowledge of the Extremi­ties of Good and Evil, as far as Humane Nature is capable of it, nothing can be look'd for from Phi­losophy, either greater or more useful, than the Subject of these four days Disputation; for after the contempt of Death, and reducing Pain within the bounds of Patience, we have added a quieting of Discontent; than which, man hath no greater Evil; for although every Distemper of mind is grievous, and doth not much differ from madness, yet are we wont to term other Persons, when they are in any Passion, either of Fear, or Mirth, or Lust, as only stir'd or disorder'd; but those who have abandon'd themselves to Discontent, miser­able, afflicted, melancholly, calamitous: There­fore it seems not to have been casual, but with good judgment propounded by you, for us to dis­pute about Discontent apart from the other [Page 265] Passions; for in that is the source and spring of Mi­series. But the cure both of Discontent and the other Diseases of the Soul is one, that they are all from conceit and voluntary, and taken up for this rea­son, because it seems fitting so to do. Philosophy un­dertakes to extirpate this Error, as the root of all our Evils: Let us then resign our selves up to her culture, and be content to be cur'd; for whilst these evils lurk in us, we are so far from a possibility of being happy, that we cannot be so much as in our Wits. Therefore either let us deny that any thing can be effected by reason, whereas on the contrary, no­thing can be well done without reason, or seeing Philosophy consists in a deduction of Reasons, if we would be both good and happy, let us fetch from thence all the aids and assistances, to a good and happy Life.

SECT. I. The efficacy of Vertue is not to be valu'd by our faint-heartedness.

THIS fifth day, most worthy Brutus, will put an end to our Tusculan Disputations, on which day was debated, that which of all Subjects you most approve; for I perceive by that Book which you writ to me with great exactness, and your many Discourses, that you are zealously of the opinion that Vertue is self­sufficient to Happiness; which though it be hard to demonstrate, by reason of the many and diverse Tortures by Fortune inflicted; yet is it of such moment, that it deserves all pains to be employ'd, in order to the clearing of it up; since there is no­thing treated of in all Philosophy, which is more Grave and Gallant to maintain; for whereas that was their Motive, who first apply'd to the Study of Philosophy, to cast all their other business aside, [Page 267] and put themselves wholly upon searching out the best State of Life; certainly they laid out so much care and pains in that Study, out of hopes to live happily. Now if Vertue have been by them com­pleatly stated, and if an interest in Vertue be suf­ficient to happiness of Life, who is there but must think that the Pains in studying Philosophy, was to excellent purpose both laid out by them, and undertaken by us; but if Vertue expos'd to diverse and uncertain hazards, be the handmaid of For­tune, and not of Power enough to defend it self; I fear we must rather pray for happiness, than aspire to it in any assurance of Vertue. And in truth when I consider within my self those changes wherein Fortune hath greatly exercis'd me; I be­gin to call this opinion into some question; and at times to dread the weakness and frailty of Mankind; for I fear, as Nature hath given us feeble Bodies, and fasten'd to them both incurable Diseases, and intolerable Pains; so least she have given us Souls also, both jointly sympathizing with bodily Pains, and severally incumber'd with Disquiets and An­guishes of their own. But herein I correct my self, that I judge of the strength of Vertue, by the softness of others, and perhaps my own, not by Vertue it self. For that, if any such thing there be as Vertue ( (b) which, Brutus, your Uncle put out of doubt) counts all things incident to man beneath it self, and looks down upon the changes of Humane Life with contempt; for, being utterly blameless, it chargeth it self with no other concern, than to preserve its own in­tegrity. But we both increasing all future Adver­sities with Fear, and present ones with Vexation, choose rather to condemn Nature, than acknow­ledge our own Error.

CHAP. II. Philosophy is the Rule of Life.

BUT the whole correcting both of this fault, and all other our Vices and Misdemeanors is to be fetch'd from Philosophy, into whose bosom our Choice and Affections having guided us from our very Childhood, we after being toss'd with a great Storm, are fled upon these most grievous turns of State, into the same Harbour from whence we had put forth. O Philosophy thou Guide of Life, In­structress in Vertue, and Correctress of Vices, what [Page 269] could not only we be, but the very Life of men without thee? thou hast founded Cities; thou hast invited scatter'd men to live in Communities; thou hast link'd them one to another, first in Ha­bitations, then in Marriages, and then in Commu­nication by Letters and Words; thou wast the In­ventress of Laws; thou the Mistress of Manners and Discipline; we fly to thee; seek help from thee; to thee we commit our selves, as formerly in great part, so now entirely and in whole; for one day led well, and according to thy Precepts, is to be prefer'd before an immortality in Vice. Whose succors therefore should we rather make use of than thine, who hast both freely bestow'd on us Tranquillity of Life, and taken away from us the Terror of Death; yet Philosophy is so far from receiving Praise suitable to the Benefits she hath confer'd on man's Life; that she is by the most slighted, nay by many revil'd. O that any one should dare to villifie the Parent of Life, and stain his Conscience with such Parricide! should offer to be so unnatu­ral and ungrateful, as to accuse her, whom he ought to reverence, although he could not com­prehend; but this errour, and gross darkness is, in my opinion, cast over the minds of the igno­rant, because they are not able to look so far back­wards; nor do think, that they were the Philoso­phers by whom first the Life of men was civiliz'd. Which thing, though we see to have been most an­cient, yet we confess the name to be but modern.

SECT. III. The Study of Wisdom of the same standing with man.

FOR as to Wisdom, who can deny it to be an­cient, not for the thing only, but also the name, which acquir'd this honourable name among the Ancients, from the knowing of Divine and Hu­mane things; as also the Elements and Causes of every being. Therefore have we receiv'd by Tra­dition, of those seven, that they were both nam'd and accounted Sages by the Greeks, and wise men by our Country-men; and many Ages before, of (c) Lycurgus, in whose time Homer is said to have been before (d) the building of Rome; and in the Heroical Ages of Ulysses and Nestor, that they both truly were, and were reputed such. Nor would there have been the Tradition that Atlas supported Heaven, nor that (e) Prometheus was fasten'd to Caucasus, nor that (f) Cephus with his Wife, Son in Law, and Daughter, were made Constellations, had not the Divine Knowledge of the Celestial Bodies and Motions rais'd the Fable upon their name; from whom in order descending, all those who sequestred themselves to the Contemplation of Nature, were both accounted and term'd wise, and that name of theirs continu'd down to the Age of Pythagoras, who, as writes (g) Heraclides Pon­ticus, an Auditor of Plato, and very learned Per­son, they report to have come to (h) Phlius, and to have had some learned and free Discourse with [Page 271] Leon Prince of the Phliasians, whose Wit and Elo­quence Leon admiring, ask'd of him, what Trade he particularly follow'd; who reply'd, that he un­derstood no Trade, but was a Philosopher; that Leon wondring at the Novelty of the Name, enquir'd who these Philosophers were, and wherein they differ'd from other men; then that Pythagoras answered, he look'd upon the Life of men, to be like that Mart which was held at the Preparation, for the great­est Games in the Confluence of all Greece. For as at that place some sought for Glory, and the prize of a Garland by bodily Exercises; others were at­tracted by Profit in buying and selling; but that there was a third sort of them, and that the most ingenuous, who neither sought for applause, nor gain, but come meerly to be Spectators, and be­held attentively what was perform'd, and how. In like manner we, as in some concourse to a Fair, held without any City, being so come from ano­ther Life and Nature, into this World, do some of us drudge after Glory, others after Money; that some few there are, who slighting all other things, diligently contemplated the Nature of the Universe; these he call'd Lovers of Wisdom, that is Philoso­phers; and as in that other case it was most gen­tile to look on, without any Gain to ones self; so in this Life, that the Contemplation and Know­ledge of Nature, was to be prefer'd far before all other Studies.

SECT. IV. Pythagoras Founder of the Italian Sect.

NOR was Pythagoras only Inventor of the Name, but also enlarger of the Notion; who having after this Discourse at Phlius, come in­to Italy, adorn'd that Greece, which was call'd the Great, both in private and publick, with most excellent Arts and Ordinances; about whose Dis­cipline another occasion of discoursing may per­haps occur. But, by the ancient Philosophers, down to Socrates numbers and motions were han­dled, and whence all things were generated, and whether they were resolv'd. Also the magnitudes, distances; courses of the Stars were diligently ob­serv'd, and the whole Celestial Globe. But Socra­tes was the first that fetch'd down Philosophy from Heaven, and lodg'd it in Cities, nay introduc'd it into Houses, and oblig'd it to enquire after Life and Manners, what things are Good, and what [Page 273] Evil. Whose manifold Form of arguing, variety of Subjects, and excellency of Wit, being consecrated by the elegant Records of Plato, hath produc'd many Sects of Dissenting Philosophers: From amongst which, we have especially espous'd that which we think Socrates us'd, to conceal our own opinion, to undeceive others, and in every Dispute to enquire what carried the fairest appearance of Truth. This Custom as Carneades held with great subtilty and copiousness, so have we done both often elsewhere; and lastly in our place at Tuscu­lum, to dispute after the same Fashion. And as to four days Debate, we have pen'd and sent it to you in the former Books. But on the fifth day, when we had taken our Seats in the same place, it was thus propounded upon what we should Dispute.

SECT. V. The Position holds, that in the Proposers judg­ment, Vertue alone is not sufficient to Hap­piness.

I Do not think Vertue to be sufficient to Happiness.

But, truly, my Friend Brutus thinks it is so; whose judgment, without offence to you be it spoken, I far prefer before yours.

I question it not; nor is that the matter now in Debate, what kindness we have for him; but the merit of this, which I said was my opinion; upon which I would have disputed by you.

Why, you say Vertue is not sufficient to Happiness of Life.

I say clearly it is not.

What? is there in Vertue sufficient Interest to live uprightly, honestly, commendably, lastly well.

Undoubtedly there is.

Can you then either choose but call him miserable, who lives ill, or deny that he lives hap­pily, whom you confess to live well.

Why may I not? for one may live uprightly, honestly, commendably, and in that Sense well even upon the Rack; so you understand by it, what at present I mean by it, Constancy, Gravi­ty, Courage, Wisdom. These things are put even upon the Rack, (i) whether an happy Life can­not aspire.

What then doth a happy Life only tarry without Doors, and doth not turn the Prisons Key, when Constancy, Gravity, Wisdom, Fortitude, and the other Vertues are carried away to the Tor­mentors, and decline neither any Punishment, nor Pain?

You must look out now, if you think to do any good. These Suggestions weigh nothing with me, not only because they are common, but much more, because like some thin Winds they cannot bear Water. So these Stoical Paradoxes are better to tast than to drink. Just so that Quire of Vertues put upon the Rack, sets goodly Representations before the Eyes; so that Happiness of Life seems ready to run after them, nor to endure that they should be left behind her; but when you have ta­ken off your mind from this Picture, and these Images of Vertues to Reality and Truth; this bare consideration is left, whether a man can be happy as long as he is upon the Rack. Wherefore let that be our present Enquiry, and never fear least [Page 275] the Vertues should take it amiss, and complain that they were deserted by Happiness of Life. For if no Vertue be without Prudence, Prudence it self per­ceives this, that all good men are not also Happy; and recounts much of (k) M. Attilius, (l) Qu. Cepio, (m) M. Aquillius; and if Happiness, being deluded by Appearances rather than Realities, would offer to venture upon the Rack; Prudence it self holds it back, and denies that it is any ways compatible with Pain and Torment.

SECT. VI. Peace of mind ariseth from Vertue alone.

I Am well content you proceed that way, although it is not fair for you to prescribe me what course you would have me take in dis­puting. But I enquire whether we think there hath been any success, or none in the former days Debates?

Success? assuredly, and that considerable too?

Why then this question is already made out, and almost brought to a final Determination.

How so, I pray?

Because the boisterous motions and tossings of Souls rais'd, and elevated with an inconsiderate Violence, repelling all Reason, leave no room for Happiness of Life; for what man under the dread of Death or Pain; the one of which is often in­cumbent, the other always impending, can be other than miserable? what if the same Person (as it often falls out) fears, Poverty, Ignominy, Dis­grace? if Lameness, Blindness? if lastly that which is not only incident to single Persons, but often to mighty Nations, Slavery, can any one who Fears these things be Happy? What, if he not only fear them as future, but also feel and bear them being present? add to the Sum Banishments, Mournings, los [...]es of Children. He that is broken with Dis­content upon these occasions, can he choose but come to be most miserable? What too can we say [Page 277] of him whom we see inflam'd and mad with Lust, raving after all things with insatiable Concupis­cence, and the more plentifully he swallows down Pleasures on every hand, the more eagerly and with greater Ardour thirsting after them; what can one truly say of him, but that he is most mi­serable? what of that other lightly exalted, and with empty Mirth both frolicking, and idly trans­ported; is he not so much the more miserable, as he takes himself to be more happy? Therefore, as these are miserable, so on the contrary are they Happy, whom no Fears alarm, no Troubles fret, no Lusts incense, no vain Mirths melt down, ex­ulting with transitory Pleasures. As therefore a Calm at Sea is understood, when the least breath of Wind doth not stir the Waves; so is the quiet and peaceful State of the mind beheld, when there is no Passion, upon which it may be discompos'd. Which being so, he that counts the Power of For­tune, and that esteems all possible accidents of Humane Life to be tolerable; whereupon neither dread nor anguish come near to touch him; and if the same Person covet nothing, be puffed up with no empty Pleasure of the Soul; what reason is there he should not be happy? and if these things are effected by Vertue, what reason is there, why pure Vertue cannot of it self make men happy?

SECT. VII. In Moral Subjects we must dilate on the Proofs.

WHY as for the first, it cannot be deny'd, but they who fear nothing, have no trouble of mind upon them, covet nothing, are not elevated with any inordinate Mirth, must be happy; that therefore I grant you, but as for the other, it is no longer at my disposal, for it hath been concluded upon in the former Debates, that a Wise man is free from all Passion.

Why? then the matter is over, for the que­stion seems to be fully determin'd.

It doth well nigh to be so.

But that is the way in Mathematicks, not Philosophy, for when Geometricians would de­monstrate any thing, if there be somewhat in or­der to prove the matter in question, amongst what they have before demonstrated, that they take for granted and prov'd; they only make out what hath not been propos'd before: Philosophers, what­ever matter they have in hand, heap up all that which is agreed upon in common, towards the eviction of that matter, however they have been elsewhere debated. Were it not so, why should a Stoick need to say much, if it should be propos'd whether Vertue be sufficient to Happiness of Life; it would be enough for him to answer, he had be­fore demonstrated, nothing to be good, but what was honest; this being prov'd, it to be consequent that Happiness of Life is contented with Vertue; [Page 279] and as this is to that, so that to be consequent to this, that if Happiness of Life be contented with Vertue, nothing else is good but what is honest. But they do not proceed after this sort; for their Books of Honesty, and of the chief Good, are apart; and although it be rightly deducible thence, that there is sufficiency in Vertue, to render the Life happy; yet they treat severally of it; for every matter is to be handled by its proper and natural Arguments and Motives; especially one of so great Importance; for you are much mistaken if you think any expression in all Philosophy more glori­ous, or that there is any promise of Philosophy either more profitable or honourable; for what doth she profess? O wonderful! that she will make good, whoever obeys her Laws, shall always be arm'd against Fortune, shall have all warranties in himself, of a good and happy Life; in a word, shall ever be blessed. But let me advise with my self, what she performs. However in the mean time I much value what she undertakes; for Xerxes being cram'd with all the Bribes and Gifts of Fortune, yet not being contented with Cavalry, nor Infantry, nor multitude of Shipping, nor an infinite quantity of Gold propounded a reward to him that should find out any new Pleasure. Nor was he contented with that, for Lust can never be bounded; I wish we could at any reward invite one to furnish us any Argument, more firmly to be­lieve this undertaking of Philosophy.

SECT. VIII. Whether Vertue alone be sufficient to Happiness, but not compleat Happiness.

I Wish it indeed, but there is somewhat where­in I am dissatisfied; for I submit that of the Positions you have made, one is consequent to the other, that as if what thing be honest, that only is good, it followeth that an happy Life is effected by Vertue; so if an happy Life consists in Vertue, nothing is good but Vertue. (n) But your Friend Brutus, upon the Principle of Aristus and Antiochus, hath not the same Sentiment; for he thinks, although there be something else good besides Vertue.

How now? do you think I will speak any thing in opposition to Brutus?

Nay, for that as you please; for it is not my part to direct you.

What then is consequent upon what Sup­position, refer to another place; for that was a difference between me and Antiochus often, and lately with Aristus, (o) when being General I lodg'd at his House; for I did not think any man could be happy in the midst of Evils; but that a Wise man might be in the midst of Evils, if there were any corporal or external Evils. These things were discours'd, which Antiochus hath also written in many places, that Vertue of it self can effect an happy Life, but not the most happy; then that, most things were denominated from their major [Page 281] part, although some part of them were wanting, as Strength, Health, Riches, Honour, Glory, which are judg'd by their nature, not their number, in like manner a happy Life, though it were in some part deficient, yet gain'd its name from far the greater part. To examine these things particu­larly, is not at present very necessary, although to me, they seem to be spoken not over-consist­ently. For I neither understand what he that is happy needs to make him more happy, (p) (for if he want any thing, he is not happy) and for the deno­mination and estimate of every thing, from its greater part, sometimes that may be in force so to do, but when they say there are three sorts of Evils, he that is press'd with all Evils, of two of these sorts, so as to have all cross'd in his Estate; a Body oppress'd and worn out with all Diseases; shall we say he wants but a little of an happy Life, not only of one most happy? This is that which Theophrastus could not maintain; for having resolv'd that Stripes, Rackings, Crucifixions, Overthrows of our Coun­try, Banishments, Losses of Children, had great influence on living ill and miserably, he durst not speak big and loftily, having entertain'd mean and low Sentiments.

SECT. IX. Of the three sorts of Goods.

HOW well, is not the question; sure it is con­sistently with his Principles. Therefore I am not wont to like a denying the consequent of that, the antecedent whereof you have granted. Now this most elegant and learned of all the Phi­losophers, is not much censur'd for holding three sorts of Goods; but he is baited by all first, for that Book which he writ of an Happy Life; wherein he brings many Arguments, why a man in Torture, and upon the Cross, cannot be Happy; in the same Book he is also reputed to say, that Happiness of Life, cannot come upon the Wheel. He no where saith that in Terms, but what he saith amounts to as much. Can I then, after I have granted one, that bodily Pains are Evils, that Shipwracks of Estate are Evils; can I be angry with that man, for saying that all good men are not Happy, when all good men are liable to those things which he accounts Evils? the same Theo­phrastus [Page 283] is further harass'd, both by the Books, and Disputations of all the Philosophers for quoting that Sentence in his Callisthenes.

They say never came more lasche word out of the mouth of Philosopher; and true it is, what they say, yet I do not understand how any thing could have been more consistent; for if there are so many good things belonging to the Body, so many extrinsick to it, all under the Power of chance and Fortune, is it not naturally consequent upon this Principle, that Fortune, who is Mistress both of external Circumstances, and corporal endow­ments, should have a larger Empire, than Hu­mane Counsels? or had we better imitate Epicurus? who oftentimes speaks many excellent things, but careth not how agreeable they are, or consistent with his Principles. He commends a slender Diet: Done like a Philosopher; but if Socrates or Anti­sthenes had said it, not he who maintains Pleasure to be the chiefest Good. He saith none can live plea­santly, unless he live also honestly, wisely, justly. No word can be more Grave and becoming a Philoso­pher, unless the same man did make Pleasure the end of his Honesty, Wisdom, and Justice. What can be better said, than that Fortune hath little dealing with a Wise man? but doth he say so, who having affirm'd Pain to be not only the greatest, but also the only Evil, may be seiz'd upon with the sharpest Pains all his Body over at that very time when he is in his highest Rants against For­tune? The same too saith Metrodorus, and in bet­ter words yet. Fortune, I have prevented you, and barricado'd up all the Avenues, that you can no ways [Page 284] attack me. Excellently well had (q) Aristo the Cian, or the Stoick Zeno said it, who accounted nothing Evil, but what was Dishonest. But you Me­trodorus, who have buried all your Good in Back and Belly, having defin'd the chief Good to consist in a firm Constitution of Body, and a strong Pre­sumption of its continuance, have you bar'd up the Avenues against Fortune? which way? for you may in a Moment be strip'd of that your Good.

SECT. X. The Peripateticks accus'd of inconsistency, but Epicurus much more.

YET unwary men are taken with these Flashes; and by means of such fine Speeches, multi­tudes of Disciples are drawn after them. But it is the part of a subtle Disputant, not to regard what any one says, but what he should say. As in that very Tenet which we have undertaken in this Dis­pute, we would have all good men to be always happy. What I mean by good men is manifest, for we call men accomplish'd and adorn'd with all Vertues, sometimes Wise and sometimes Good men. Who are to be call'd happy, let us consider. I indeed think these who are possess'd of Goods, without any Evil added thereto. Nor is there any other No­tion [Page 285] couch'd under this word, when we say a Happy man, but an Accumulation of all Goods, without the mixture of any Evils. Vertue cannot attain to this, if there be any thing good besides it self. For there will press in a throng of Evils, if we count these Evils, Poverty, obscurity of Parentage, Low­ness, Destitution, loss of Friends and Relations, grievous Pains of Body, decay in Health, Maims, Blindness, Destruction of ones Country, Banish­ment, Slavery. Lastly, a Wise man may be in these so many and so great Evils, and those many more which may happen; for chance inflicts them, which may fall foul on a Wise man. But if these things are Evil, who can warrant that a Wise man shall always be happy, when he may be even un­der all these at one time? Therefore I do not easily yield it to my Friend Brutus, (s) nor the Teachers of us both, (t) nor those Ancients, Aristotle; Speu­sippus, Xenocrates, Polemo, that having taken the things above-recounted for Evils, they should yet hold a Wise man to be always happy. But if they be taken with this plausible and specious Privi­ledge, fitting to be claim'd by Pythagoras, Socrates, and Plato, let them be contented to despise Strength, Health, Beauty, Riches, Honours, Wealth, with the Lustre of which, they are so much dazled, and ut­terly to slight their Contraries. Then may they pro­claim with the most loud Voice, that they are nei­ther terrify'd at the insults of Fortue, nor the dis­pleasure of the Multitude, nor Pain, nor Poverty; and that all their Dependencies are on themselves; nor is there any thing without the Power of their own choice, which they reckon for good. Nor can it any ways be granted, that one Person should speak after this rate, suitable to some great and losty Spirit; and withall, account for Good [Page 286] and Evil, the same things which the Vulgar doth, Epicurus proselyted with this glorious Doctrine, sets up; and his Wise man, in good time, must be ever Happy. He is taken with the Dignity of this Asser­tion, but would never say so, if he were true to himself; for what is less agreeable, than that he who saith Pain is either the greatest or only Evil, should likewise hold, that a Wise man, when he is rack'd with Pain, should say, Oh! how sweet this is? Therefore Philosophers are not to be estimated by some single expression, but by the constant Tenor and Analogy of their Doctrines.

SECT. XI. That the Stoicks cavil about Words.

YOU induce me to give you my assent; but take heed least your consistency too be not questionable.

How so?

Because I have lately read over your fourth Book, about the several Opinions concerning the chief Good; in that, disputing against Cato, you seem'd to me to endeavour to shew what I ex­treamly like, that there is no difference between Zeno and the Peripateticks, but a novelty of Terms. If this be so, what reason is there, but if Zeno thinks it reasonable, that there is in Vertue, suffi­ciency to Happiness of Life, the Peripateticks may say the same? for, I think, reality, not words, ought to be regarded.

Why, you take of me a Bill under Hand and Seal, and call Witnesses to what I said or writ at any time. Deal so with others who Dispute un­der Articles subscribed; we live from hand to mouth, whatsoever smites us with an appearance of Truth, that we allow. Therefore we only are free; but since we spoke a little before of con­sistency, I do not think it to be at this time the enquiry whether that which Zeno and his Auditor Aristo held be true, that only which is Honest to be good; but, if it were so, then to place the whole Happiness of Life in Vertue alone. Where­fore let us yield this to Brutus, that a Wise man is always happy; how agreeable it is to his Prin­ciples, he must look to that. What man is more worthy the Glory of this Assertion? Yet let us hold that the same Wise man is most Happy, al­though Zeno of Cittium, a certain Forreigner, and ignoble, but Forger of Terms, seems to have wrought himself slily into the ancient Philo­sophy.

SECT. XII. That nothing should be call'd Good but Vertue, is vindicated to have been the Tenet of So­crates.

THE Gravity of this Opinion, is to be fetch'd from the Authority of Plato; in whom often­times this expression is found, that nothing is to be call'd Good but Vertue, as in his Dialogue call'd Gorgias. Socrates, when he had been ask'd whether he did not think Archelaus the Son of Per­diccas, who was then accounted most Fortunate, to be Happy; I cannot tell, saith he, for I never spoke with the Man. What of that? can you come no other way to know it? No other; then you cannot tell of the Great King of Persia, whether he be Happy? Can I do it, when I know not how he is for Learning, how for Justice? What? do you think Happiness of Life consists in that? I am clear of the mind, that the Good are Happy, the Wicked Miserable. Is Archelaus then miserable? Certainly, if he be unjust. Do you not think he places the whole of an Happy Life, in Vertue alone? But what saith he in his Funeral Dialogue? The man who hath all the necessaries to Happiness of Life, bound up in himself, so that they are not suspended on the good or bad success of any other; and he by that means constrain'd to waver, hath the best course of Life ensur'd. This is that Moderate, this that Valiant, this that Wise man; this, if Riches, if Children increase or fail, will still observe the old Proverb, neither to be ex­cessive [Page 290] in Joy nor Sorrow; because all his Interests are depending on his own Soul.

SECT. XIII. Nature hath produc'd all things perfect in them­selves.

FROM this therefore, as it were Holy and Ve­nerable Fountain of Plato, shall our whole ensuing Discourse take its source. And now whence can we more orderly begin, than from Nature our common Parent, who hath taken care that all her Productions, not only the living Crea­ture, but also the very Plant which so Springs from the Earth, as to abide firm on its Stock and Root, (u) should be every one in their respective kind perfect. Therefore both Trees and Vines, and those Plants which are lower, nor can advance themselves to any height from the Earth, some of them are ever Green, others stand bare all Winter, but warm'd in the Spring, shoot forth Leaves afresh; nor is there any one which hath not such an inward Vegetation, that it bears either Blossoms, or Fruits, or Berries with Seeds lock'd up in all, after their proper kind. So that every thing in all, as far as in them lyes, if no external Violence im­peach, are perfect. The Power of Nature may yet more easily be discern'd in Brutes, because Sense is given them by Nature; for she design'd some of these Creatures for Swimming, which were to be Inhabitants of the Water; others for flying, which were to sport in the open Air; some [Page 291] to creep, others to go; and of these last, some to range alone, others to herd together; some wild, and others tame: Lastly, some to dwell in holes and caverns under ground. Now every one of these having its proper work allotted, cannot pass over into the life of another Creature, but abides in the Ordinance of its own Nature. And as one advantage is given by Nature to one Beast, and another to another, which peculiar it holds fast, nor swerves from it; so hath man somewhat far more excellent; (although those things may be said to excell, which admit of some comparison;) but the Soul of man being deriv'd from the Divine Spirit, with all Humility be it spoken, (w) can be compar'd with no other thing, but God himself. This therefore, if it be cultivated, and if its sight be kept pure, so as not to be blinded with Errors, becomes a perfect understanding, that is, right Reason, which is the same as Vertue. And if every thing be Happy, which wants nothing, and which is in its own kind ac­complish'd to the highest; and this be the property of Vertue; in truth all vertuous Persons are Happy. And in this Point, I and Brutus are agreed; so also is Aristotle, Xenocrates, Speusippus, Polemo. But in my opinion they are also most happy; for what doth he want to an Happy Life, who hath Assu­rance of his Goods? or how can he be Happy, who hath no Assurance of them?

SECT. XIV. The Perfection of man is properly in his mind.

BUT he must needs have no Assurance, who di­vides his Goods into three parts. For how can he rely either upon firmness of Body, or sted­fastness of Fortune? But none can be Happy, unless in the enjoyment of a stedfast, fix'd, and permanent good. Now what of those mention'd, is of such Nature? so that the Saying of that Spartan, seems very apposite to such men, who when (x) a cer­tain Merchant brag'd that he had many Ventures to all Ports, whither men traded, reply'd, I do not in truth envy that Fortune which is tack'd upon Cables. Is it any question, but that (y) nothing is to be taken into the number of those things which con­stitute a Happy Life, that can be lost? for nothing that is the ingredient of an Happy Life, must nei­ther fade, nor be destroy'd, nor decay. For he who shall fear the losing any of them, can never be Happy; for we would have him who is to be Happy safe, impregnable, fortified, and provided, not so as to be without much Fear, but any at all. For as he is call'd Innocent, not who is slightly harmful, but wholly harmless; so is he to be held undaunted, not who Fears little, but who is wholly fearless; for what is Fortitude else, but a dispositi­on of mind, both firm in confronting danger, and sustaining Labour and Pain; as also free from all Fear? Now these things to be sure, could not be so, unless all goodness consisted in honesty alone. [Page 293] Since how can any man have that most blessed and desirable Security (I call now Security a Free­dom from Disquiet, wherein Happiness of Life con­sists) who is either under a multitude of Evils, or liable to be so? Further, how can he be brave and gallant, and slighting all the possible Contingencies of Humane Life, such as we would have our Wise man be, unless he should think all his sufficiency lodg'd in himself? Could the Lacedemonians demand of Philip, menacing by Letters, that he would hin­der all their attempts, whether he would hinder them also from dying; and shall not the man whom we seek, be much easier found so minded, than a whole State? What? and if Temperance, which is the Governess of all Passions, be added to this Forti­tude whereof we are speaking? What can he want to Happiness of Life, whom Fortitude rescues from Discontent and Fear; and Temperance reclaimeth from Lust, nor suffers to be transported with ex­travagant Mirth? I would shew that Vertue works these effects, had they not been made out in the former days Debates.

SECT. XV. That only what is Honest is Good.

NOW since the Disturbances of the Soul ren­der the Life miserable, but the composure of them happy; and there is a double rank of Passions; in that, Discontent and Fear are termi­nated on Evils conceiv'd; but excessive Mirth and Lust arise from the misapprehension of good things, since all are inconsistent with Advice and Reason, if you shall see any one clear, emanci­pated, free from these emotions so vehement, so discordant one with the other, and so distracting, can you make any question of calling him Happy? But the Wise man is always so dispos'd, therefore the Wise man is always Happy. Further every thing that is good is joyous, and what is joyous, is to be proclaim'd and avow'd; and what is so, is also to be glory'd in; but if it be glorious, to be sure it must be praise-worthy; but what is praise-worthy, is also truly honourable; what therefore is good is honourable. But what those men reckon for Goods, they do not themselves say they are honourable. That only therefore is good which is honourable, from whence is concluded, that Happiness of Life consists in Honesty only; which is, the true Honour. Those things are therefore not to be call'd nor counted good things, in which a man may abound, and yet be most miserable. Do you make any question, but that one exceeding in Health, Strength, Beauty, sound and quick Senses; [Page 295] add further if you please, Activity, and Swiftness; throw in Riches, Honours, Commands, Interest, Glory; if the Possessor of all this be unjust, intem­perate, timorous, stupid and senseless, will you make any question of calling him miserable? what sort of Goods then are they which a man may have, and yet be most miserable? Let us consider therefore, whether, as an Heap must consist of single Corns of the same Grain, so an Happy Life must not of parts similar to it self. If this be so, then is Happiness to be an Aggregation of those Goods only which are Honest, if there be any mixture of Dissimilars, Honesty can never deno­minate the Sum total; which being substracted, what Happiness can be understood remaining? for whatever that be, which is good, that is de­sirable; and what is desirable, is to be sure to be approv'd; and what you approve, is to be ac­counted agreeable and welcome; therefore also is respect to be born to it, which being so, it must needs be commendable; therefore all good is commendable; from whence is concluded, that what is honourable, that only is good. Which unless we maintain, there will be many things which will pretend to the title of Good.

SECT. XVI. Such as is the Disposition of Mind, such is the Life.

TO wave Riches, which I do not reckon among good things, since any one never so unwor­thy may have them. But (z) what is good, that every one cannot have. To pass by Nobility and popular Fame, rais'd by the consent of Fools and Knaves. These petty Advantages must be call'd good things, white Teeth, black Eyes, a fresh Colour, and those Graces which Anticlea com­mends, as she washes the Feet of Ulysses.

If we must call these Goods, what will there be sounding more reverend or lofty in the Gravity of a Philosopher, than in the Opinion of the Vulgar, and croud of Fools? But yet the Stoicks call the same things advantageous and preferrible, which these term Good. They do indeed so style them, but do not esteem them perfective of Happiness of Life. But the other think, that without these, not Happy; or if it be, yet will not allow it most Happy. But we would have it to be most Happy; and that is concluded by us, from that Pile of In­ferences by Socrates. For thus did that Prince of Philosophers argue. Such as is a mans Disposition of Soul, such is the man; and as is the man, such his Dis­course; again his Facts are like his Discourse, and Life [Page 297] like his Facts. But the Disposition in a good man, is commen­dable; therefore so is a good man's Life too; thereupon hon­ourable too, or honest, because commendable; from whence is infer'd, that the Life of the Good is Happy. For I appeal to Gods and men, is it not enough evidenc'd by our former Debates; or have we discours'd for diver­sion only and pastime, that a Wise man is always free from every inordinate commotion of Spirit, which I call Passion? that there is always in his mind an undisturb'd Peace. Therefore a tempe­rate constant man, without Fear, without Dis­content, without any Jollity, without Lust, can he be other than Happy? But a wise man is always such, therefore always Happy. Now how can a good man choose, but make what is com­mendable, the ultimate end of all his Thoughts and Actions? but he makes Happiness of Life the ultimate end of all: Therefore Happiness of Life is commendable; but there can be nothing commendable without Vertue; therefore Happiness of Life is per­fected by Vertue only.

SECT. XVII. Only what may be gloried in is good.

NOW the same is thus further concluded. Neither is there any thing to be proclaim'd or boasted of in a miserable Life, nor in that which is neither miserable nor happy; but there is in some Life somewhat to be proclaim'd, gloried in, and openly avow'd; as Epaminondas;

As Africanus;

Now if a Life be Happy, it is to be avow'd, proclaim'd and glory'd in; for there is nothing else to be proclaim'd and glory'd in. Upon these Premises you know what follows; and in truth unless that Life be Happy, which is also Honest, there must needs be somewhat better than a Happy Life; for what is Honest, they will certainly con­fess to be better; so will somewhat come to be better than an Happy Life, which is the greatest Absurdity can be spoken. What? when they con­fess, that vitiousness is sufficient to render the Life unhappy; must not it be confess'd, that Vertue hath the same Power to render it Happy; for contrary causes produce contrary effects. In this [Page 299] place, I enquire, what imports that Ballance of Critolaus? Who having cast the goods of the mind into one Scale; those of the Body and Fortune into the other, thinks that the Scale of former good does so far out­weigh, that it would fetch up Sea and Land if it were thrown in to the opposite towards making even weight.

SECT. XVIII. The same was also maintain'd by the more reso­lute Peripateticks.

WHAT then debars either him, or Xenocrates also, the gravest of Philosophers extolling Vertue, and depressing all other things, so much as to vilifie them, from placing not only an Happy, but also most Happy Life, in Vertue? which un­less it hold good, an utter ruine of the Vertues will ensue; for to whom trouble is incident, Fear must be so likewise of necessity; for Fear is the anxious expectation of future Trouble; and he to whom Fear, there is also incident Irresolution, Timor­ousness, Consternation, Cowardise, and by con­sequent for the man sometimes to be conquer'd, nor to think himself concern'd in that admonition of Atreus.

But the man here suppos'd will be conquer'd, as I said, nor conquer'd only, but also enslav'd; whereas we would have Vertue to be always free, al­ways unvanquish'd; which Properties, if they be not granted, Vertue is taken away; but if Vertue have force enough to Goodness of Life; she hath also enough to Happiness; for to be sure there is in Vertue, force enough for our living valiantly; and if valiantly, then with gallantry of Spirit, so as never to be dismay'd at any thing, but always remain invincible. It follows that it knows no re­morse, no want, no controul: Consequently that it abound in all things, live absolute and prosper­ously; therefore happily. Now Vertue hath force enough to our living valiantly; therefore also hath it enough to our living happily. For as Folly, although it hath obtain'd what it lusted after, yet never thinks it hath gotten enough; so Wisdom is always content with what it hath, and never repineth at its own condition.

SECT. XIX. The Dissimilitude between Vertue and Vice, exemplified in the former Troubles.

DO you think any comparison to be made between (b) the one Consulship of C. Lae­lius, and that after a repulse (if, when a wise and good man, such as he was, is repuls'd in an Electi­on, [Page 301] the People do not rather miss of a good Ma­gistrate, than he of a good People,) but yet, which had you rather be, if it were at your Choice, once Consul as Laelius, or (c) four times as Cinna? I make no question what you would answer; there­fore I consider to whom I put the case. I would not ask every body the same question; for ano­ther perhaps would answer that he not only pre­fer'd the four Consulships before the one, but one day of Cinna, before the whole Ages of many and brave men. Laelius, if he had laid his least Finger on any one, should have suffer'd for it; but Cinna com­manded to Behead his Fellow-Consul Cn. Octavius, P. Crassus, L. Caesar, Principal of the Nobility, men of try'd Abilities both in Peace and War. M. An­tony the most Eloquent of all that I ever heard. C. Caesar who seem'd to me a Pattern of Courtesie, Wit, Good Nature, Facetiousness. Was he there­fore happy who slew these? On the contrary, I take him to be therefore miserable, not only be­cause he did it, but also because he had order'd the matter, so as to have Authority to do it; though no body hath Authority to sin; but we speak improperly through a vulgar abuse of Lan­guage, for we say a man doth that by Authority, which he can do without being call'd to an ac­count for so doing. Pray was C. Marius then hap­pier, when he (d) communicated the Glory of his Cimbrick Victory with Catulus, almost another Laelius (for I take him to have been most like the other) or when being Conqueror in a Civil War, upon the Humble Petition of the Relations of Ca­tulus; he answer'd in Anger not once, but often, He must dye; wherein more Happy was he who submitted to that execrable word, than he who gave so wicked an order. For as it is better to re­ceive, [Page 302] than do an Injury; So is it to go a little way to meet death near approaching, as Catulus did; then what did Marius by the murther of such a Personage, (e) to deface his six Consulships, and pollute his dying Conscience.

SECT. XX. The ugliness of Usarpation in Dionysius the Elder; with his Fears.

EIGHT and thirty years was Dionysius Tyrant over the Syracusans, having usurp'd the Go­vernment at five and twenty year old. He held in Servitude a City of incomparable Beauty, and a State of great Wealth and Alliances. Now we have receiv'd from good Authors concerning him, thus recorded, that he was of singular temperance in his Diet, exceeding Politick and Industrious in carrying on business; and yet for all that, of a Nature very malitious and unjust, whence he must needs seem to all that consider truth narrowly, most miserable; for what things he had eagerly coveted after, he did not then obtain, even when he thought himself Soveraign Lord of all. He having been born of creditable Parents, and such as were of good Quality, (though different Authors write differently as to that Point) and abounding in Companions of old acquaintance, and Relati­ons near to him; also having some Youths joyn'd in Love to him, after the manner of Greece, trusted not any of them; but took for his Life-Guard those whom he had pick'd out from the Servants of wealthy Citizens, and had himself taken from them the name of Servitude; some Forreigners too, and Salvage Barbarians. So through an un­just affectation of Dominion, he did in a manner Imprison himself. Nay farther, lest he should [Page 304] entrust his Throat with the Barber, he made his own Daughters learn to Trim. Thus did the Royal Virgins, like Women-Shavers, of a sordid and servile Trade, Trim and Shave their Father, and yet when they came to be of Age, he took from their hands too the Razor, and brought up a Practice of their singeing his Beard and Locks with burning Wall-nut-shells. He also having two Wives (f) Aristomache his own Country-woman, (g) and Doris of Ocri, he so by night consorted with them, that he had all places spy'd and search'd before, and having contriv'd a broad. Trench round about the Bed in his Presence Chamber, and laid a wooden Bridge for a Passage over that Trench, which too he drew up when he had look'd his Chamber Doors. He also not daring to stand on the common Pulpits, was wont to Harangue the People from the top of a Tower. The same Person having a mind to play at Ball (for he delighted much in that sport) and strip'd of his Vest, is said to have deliver'd his Sword to a Page whom he lov'd. Hereupon when a certain intimate Friend of his had said in jest, Assuredly you trust your Life with him; and the Youth had smil'd at it, he com­manded both to be slain, the one because he had shew'd the way of killing him, and the other be­cause he had approved that notice with a smile; at which action he was so afflicted, that nothing in his Life ever more troubled him; for he had kill'd his beloved Boy.

SECT. XXI. Demonstrated to his Court-flatterer.

THUS are the Lusts of such as give way to their Passions, distracted into contrary parts. Whilst you obey one, you must Rebel against the other; although this Tyrant past Sentence himself how happy he was; for when one of his Parasites, Da­mocles, in Discourse with him, fell on magnifying his Wealth, Strength, Majesty of Dominion, Plenty of Estate, Sumptuousness of Royal Palace; Will you then, answers he, Damocles, since you are so taken with this Life, your self tast of it, and make a proof of my Fortune? upon his replying, that he would with all his heart, he commanded him to be seated on a Golden Couch, with a rich Cover­let, a Tapestry Carpet, Embroider'd with curious Figures, in Silks of divers Colours; furnish'd also several Side-boards with Plate, and Vessels of en­graven Gold; then order'd Boys of the most ex­quisite Beauty, to attend at Table, and diligently watching to run at his least beck: There were pre­tious Oyntments, Garlands, Odours were fuming, the Table piled up with most choice Dishes. Da­mocles thought himself in a Fortunate condition; in the midst of this entertainment, he commanded a drawn Sword fasten'd by a single Horse-hair, to be let down the Ceiling, so as to point at the head of this happy man; so that he could not fix his eyes on those fair Servitors; nor the excellent Workmanship of the Plate; nor reach his hand to [Page 306] the Table; his very Garlands were ready to drop off his Head: In a word, he beg'd of the Tyrant, leave to be gone, for he was unwilling to be any longer happy. Do you think that Dionysius did not plainly enough declare, that nothing could be happy to the man, who had always some terror impending over him? (h) Now he had put it out of his power, to return to Justice, and restore his Citizens their Laws and Liberties; for whilst he was young in his inconsiderate Age, he had entangled himself in such miscarriages, and committed those enormities, that he could not be safe, had he gone about to be honest.

SECT. XXII. —and in the consequent of those Fears, want of Friends.

BUT how much he wanted Friends, whose faithfulness he fear'd, he declar'd (i) in that pair of Pythagoreans; for when he had taken one of them surety for the other, bound body for body, and the other, to release his Security, had pre­sented himself at the appointed hour of Execution, I wish, saith he, I might be admitted with you, to make up the Pair of Royal Friends. What a misery must it needs be, to want the Conversation of Friends, [Page 307] Society at Meals, and even familiar Discourse? especially to one a Scholar from a Child, and bred up to ingenuous Arts; particularly as we have by Tradition very Musical; (k) a Tragick Poet; How good, is nothing to the purpose; for in that sort of Pretenders, I know not how it cometh to pass, more than in others, every one thinks his own a Beauty. I never knew Poet yet (and I was acquainted with Aqui­nius) but he thought himself the best. So stands the case, you like yours, and I mine. But to return to Dionysius, he was debar'd all civil and free Con­verse. He spent his time with Vagrants, with Rogues, with Barbarians; he thought no man, who either deserv'd freedom, or had a desire to be free, could be Friend to him. I will not there­fore now compare with his Life, than which I can imagine nothing more tormenting, wretched, de­testable, the Life of Plato, or Archytas, learned and truly wise men.

SECT. XXIII. The praise of a vertuous Life, in Archimedes and the Philosophers.

I WILL raise up from the Dust, and compass a mean Mechanick of the same City, who liv'd many years after Archimedes. Whose Tomb, un­known to the Syracusians, who deny'd that there was any such, I being Questor, search'd out, as it was overgrown and invested with Briars and Brambles; for I held in memory some Verses which I had been inform'd were ingrav'd on his Monument. These declared that on the top of his Tomb, was a Sphear erected with a Cylinder; when I had view'd all about (for at the Agragian Port, is a great number of Sepulchers) I spy'd a Pillar somewhat rais'd above the Bushes, (l) on which was the Figure of a Sphear and Cylinder. Then I presently told the Syracusians (at that time the chief of the Town were with me) that I thought that was the thing I look'd for; divers with Hand-Bills were sent in, who clear'd the place; when an open way was made, we came to the Front of the Base; there appear'd an Epigram, the latter part of the Verses, to almost half, being perish'd. So that noble City of Greece, and heretofore very learned, had not known the Monument of her most ingenious Citizen, had she not learn'd it (m) of a poor Arpinate. But let my Discourse re­turn, from whence it hath digress'd; for who is there that hath any acquaintance with the Muses, [Page 309] that is, with Humanity and Learning, who had not rather be this Mathematician, than that Ty­rant? If we look into their manner of Life and Employment, the mind of one was improv'd by working, and searching out Proportions, with the delight of invention, which is the sweetest repast of Souls: The others fed with Carnage and Injuries, with Fears both by day and by night. Come on, compare Democritus, Pythagoras, Anaxagoras; what Kingdoms, what Wealth will you prefer before their Studies and Delights? for what is the best part in man, therein must that best thing of all for man, which you enquire after, of necessity be seated. Now what is there in man, better than an ingenuous and sound mind? The good of that therefore must we enjoy, if we would be happy; but the good of the mind is Vertue; therefore a happy Life must of necessity be compriz'd in that. Hence all things which are good, honest, honour­able (as I said above, but that same seems that it ought to be more largely said) are full of joys. Now seeing it is plain, that a happy Life is made up of continual and compleat joys, it follows that it ariseth from honesty.

SECT. XXIV. The Exercise of a Wise man in Contemplation of Nature.

BUT lest we should only touch in words, upon those things which we ought to shew; there are some, as it were, motives to be laid down by us, which should more invite us to knowledge and understanding; for let us presume on some Per­son, excelling in the best Arts; and let him, for a while, be fancied in our Mind and Thought. First, he must needs be of an excellent Wit; for Vertue doth not in all likelyhood consort with dull Souls. Then must he have a forward inclination to the search of truth; from whence ariseth (n) that three-fold issue of the Soul; the one in knowledge of the World, and explaining of Nature; a second in the description of what is to be desir'd, what avoided; the third in judging what is consequent to what, and what repugnant; wherein consists both all the subtilty of disputing, and truth of judging. What joy then, I pray, must needs possess the wise mans mind, dwelling and lodging with these Entertain­ments? and when he shall behold the Motions and Revolutions of the whole Firmament, and shall see innumerable Stars sticking in their Orb, agree with its own motion, fix'd in their due distances. Other seven, each to keep their courses much dif­fering in height or lowness, whose wide motions yet limit certain bounded and order'd Posts of their Race. It was the Observation of these that incited [Page 311] and minded those Ancients to enquire farther. Thence arose that (o) search of the Principles, and as it were Seeds whence all things had their Original, Generation, Composition; and what is the Rise, what Life, what Death, and what the Change or Conversion from one into another, of every kind with or without Sense, dumb or speak­ing; whence is the Earth, and by what weights pois'd; in what caverns it sustains the Seas; whe­ther all things born down by their Gravity, do al­ways tend to the middle place of the World, which is also the lowest in a round Figure.

SECT. XXV. Good Manners, right Reasoning, and discharge of his place.

WHILST he considers these things, and medi­tates on them day and night, there ariseth that knowledge enjoyn'd by the God at Delphi, [Page 312] that the Spirit knows it self to have put off former Vices, and experiments that it is ally'd to the Divine Spirit, and thereupon is fill'd with insatiable Joy. For the very Contemplation of the Power and Nature of the Deity, and enkindleth a desire of imitating that Eternity; nor doth it think it self confin'd to this shortness of Life, when it beholds the Causes of all Events depending one upon another, and all of them link'd together with necessity; which as they flow from eternal Duration to eternal, yet a Wisdom and Spirit doth conduct. Stedfastly be­holding these things, and looking upwards, or ra­ther looking round on all the Parts and Extremi­ties, with what calmness of mind again doth he consider the Contingencies of Hurnane Life and things here below? Hence ariseth that knowledge of Vertue; the general and particular Vertues sprout forth; there is found out, what is that chief­est amongst Goods which Nature aims at, what the utmost amongst Evils, whereinto all Duties are to be resolv'd, what order of leading our Life to be chosen. These and such-like things being search'd out, it is firmly prov'd which we chiefly drive at in this Dispute, that Vertue is self-sufficient to happiness of Life. A third branch remains, the method and skill of disputing, which is diffus'd, and spreads through all the Parts of Wisdom. This defines Notions, divides the general into its parts, conjoyns consequent means of proof, infers regu­lar Conclusions. From which as the highest use­fulness ariseth towards examining Matters; so doth also the most ingenuous delight, and worthy of Wisdom. But these are the Improvements of lei­sure; pass the same wise man to manage the pu­blick; what can be more serviceable than he, when he beholds the Interest of his Country to be bound [Page 313] up in his Prudence; out of Justice he converts nothing of the publick to his private use; exer­cises so many others, and such various Vertues? Joyn hereto the benefit of Friendships, wherein as all the Counsel agreeing, and almost conspiring in the conduct of Life, hath been plac'd by the Learned; so is there singular delight in dayly re­spect and Conversation. What, I pray, doth this Life lack to make it more Happy? To this Estate fill'd up with so many and so great Joys, Fortune it self must needs submit. Now if it be Happy to rejoyce in such Goods of the Mind, that is, Ver­tues; and all wise men constantly feel such Joys; we must of necessity confess, that all wise men are Happy.

SECT. XXVI. The wise man is Happy in Adversity.

WHAT? under Tortures and Racking.

Do you think I mean under a Chaplet of Violets and Roses? Shall Epicurus, who is only a Philosopher in Masquerade, and assumes that Title to himself; shall he be allow'd to say, what yet he doth with my applause, as the matter now stands, that there is no time of a wise man, although whilst he is burning, wrack'd, cut, but wherein he may cry out, Now nothing do I value this? especially when he defines all Evil by Pain, Good by Pleasure; laughs at this our Honesty, as baseness; and teaches us to be a company of Can­ters, that set up for a parcel of idle School-Gib­brish, [Page 314] not having any other true Interest, but in what feels smooth or rough in the Body. Shall he then, as I said, not much differing in judgment from Beasts, be allow'd to forget himself, and then to brave Fortune, when as his whole, both Good and Evil, is in the Power of Fortune? then call him­self Happy in the greatest racking and torture, when he hath laid it down for a Principle, that Pain is not only the chiefest, but the only Evil; and that not having provided himself of those supports, to the bearing up under Pain; such as are Reso­lution of Mind, Fear of Baseness, Exercise and Ha­bit of Patience, Precepts of Fortitude, manly Hardiness; but saith, he rests himself on the bare remembrance of past Pleasures; just as if one swel­tring, when he is ready to faint away with the excess of heat, would call to mind, that he had been (p) in our Manner of Arpinum, refresh'd with the Breezes from the cool Streams that run about it; for I do not see how past Pleasures can asswage present Evils; but when he saith that a wise man is always Happy, who could say no such thing, if he would be true to himself; what should they do, who think nothing desirable, nothing to be rank'd amongst Goods, which is abstracted from Honesty? If my word may pass, even the Peripateticks and old Academicks should at length leave their lisping, and without more mincing the matter, take courage to speak plain, and with an intelligible voice, that Happiness of Life can enter into (q) Phalaris his Bull.

SECT. XXVII. Objection from Pain against the self-sufficiency of Vertue answered.

FOR allow there be three sorts of Goods, that we may at length get clear of the Snares of the Stoicks; more of which I understand that I have us'd, than I am wont to do; allow them, I say, for sorts of Goods; so those of the Body, and of the Estate, couch on the ground, and be only term'd Good, because they are to be accepted; but those other Divine ones, let them spread far and near, and mount up to Heaven; so that he who hath acquir'd them, why should I call him Happy only, and not also most Happy? But will a wise man dread Pain? for that is the greatest Adversary to this opinion; for we seem enough fortified and prepared by the former days Disputes against our own Death, and that of our Friends; as also against Discontent, and the other Passions of the Mind. Pain seems to be the most violent Adversary against Vertue, that thrusts out his burning Torches at us; that threatens to vanquish [Page 316] Fortitude, Magnanimity, and Patience. Shall Vertue then fall under this? Shall the Blessed Life of a Wife and Constant man render to this. Good Gods! how base were that? Spartan Children torn with smarting Lashes, never give a groan. We have seen our selves, at Lacedaemon, Multitudes of young men Box, Kick, Scratch, Bite, with in­credible earnestness, so as to fall down dead, be­fore they would confess themselves worsted. What Barbarous Land is more wast or wild, than India? yet in that Nation, those who are counted wise men live naked, and endure the Snows and Win­ter violence of Caucasus without Pain; and when they turn themselves to the Flame, are scorch'd without groaning. Nay (r) the Indian Women, when the Husband of any of them is dead, enter into Contest and Tryal, which of them he lov'd best, for they are wont to be many Wives to one man; she that gets the better, joyful and attended by her Friends, is laid by her Husband on the Funeral Pile; the other that lost, goes away sorrowful. Custom could never vanquish Nature, for that is always invincible. But we have emasculated our Spirit with Shade, Delicacies, Ease, Niceness, Sloth, and debauched our Judgment with Mistakes, and bad Presidents. Who knows not the Aegyptians Pra­ctice? whose minds being prepossess'd with cor­rupt Errors, would endure any the most exquisite Torment, rather than violate (s) an Ibis, (t) or Asp, or Cat, or Dog, or Crocodile; and if una­wares they do any such thing, they are content to undergo any Punishment that shall be inflicted on them. I speak hitherto of Men. What do Beasts? do not they endure Cold, and Hunger, Running and Ranging over Mountains and thorough Woods? do they not so Fight, to protect their Young, as to [Page 317] receive Wounds? fear no Charges, no Blows? I wave that ambitious men abide and suffer for Honors sake; what the vain-glorious, for Praise; what the Amorous, for Lust. The World is full of Instances.

SECT. XXVIII. The wise man is happy though he be in Tor­ments.

BUT our Discourse must keep within bounds, and return thither where it turn'd out of the way. Happiness will, will, I tell you, go into Torments; nor having accompanied Justice, Tem­perance, and especially Fortitude, Magnanimity, Patience, when it shall see the Tormentors Face, will it stop; and when all the Vertues go with an undaunted mind to Torture, will she stand (as I said) without the Prison doors, and not step over the threshold? for what would be more scandal­ous, more ugly, than her left alone and sever'd from her most beautiful train of Companions, (u) which yet is no ways possible; for neither can the Vertues hold together without happiness of Life, nor that without the Vertues. Therefore they will not suffer her to lag behind, but will hurry her along with them, to whatever pain and torture they shall be led; for it is the property of (w) a wise man, to do nothing to be repented of, nothing upon constraint, all things nobly, constantly, gravely, honestly; to expect nothing, as presum'd certain; to admire nothing when it is befallen, as that it should seem to have happen'd new and unexpected; to bring all things to the Bar of his discretion, and stand to the awards of his own judgment: what can be more happy than this, cannot enter into my mind; I acknowledge, indeed, the inference of the Stoicks [Page 320] is plain; who having held the chiefest of Goods to be agreement with Nature, and living up suitably to it; this being in the wise man not only as to Duty, but also Power; it must necessarily follow, that in whose Power is the chiefest Good, in the same is also happiness of Life; so that a wise man's Life is always happy. Thus you have what I think is spoken of a happy Life most resolutely; and as the matter stands here, unless you can tell us any thing better, most truly too.

SECT. XXIX. Whether the Peripateticks may consistently to themselves hold what the Stoicks do.

BETTER I can tell nothing, but I would will­ingly beg the favour of you, if it be not too much trouble, because you are not under engage­ments to any certain Sect, but cull out of all, what­ever works upon you, with any apperance of truth, whereas you seem'd a little before to exhort the Peripateticks and old Academy, that they would take the boldness to say freely without biting in their words, that wise men are always most happy, [Page 321] I would fain learn of you, how you think it com­porting with their Principle so to say; for much hath been said by you against their opinion, and concluded after the Stoicks way of arguing.

Use we therefore our liberty, which we on­ly can use in Philosophy, whose discourse judges nothing it self, but argues on all sides, that it may of it self, without the shelter of any ones Autho­rity, be judg'd by others. And since you seem to be wishing this, that whatsoever be the opinion of dissenting Philosophers, about the several chief Goods, yet Vertue hath in it self sufficient Power, to the securing of an happy Life; which we have been inform'd Carneades was wont to maintain; but he did it as against the Stoicks, whom he did always most earnestly confute, and against whose Doctrine his Wit broke forth into Heats. We will do the same thing, but calmly; for if the Stoicks have rightly set the bounds of things good, the matter is at an end; the wise man must of necessity be always happy, but let us enquire into every opinion of the rest; if it be possible, that this excellent, as it were, Sanction of an happy Life, may agree with all their Judgments.

SECT. XXX. The different Opinions about the chief Good.

NOW these Opinions about the Supream good, have, as I suppose, been kept and main­tain'd: First, four single ones; that Nothing is Good but what is Honest, as the Stoick; that Nothing [Page 322] is Good but Pleasure, as Epicurus; that Nothing is Good but freedom from Pain, as (x) Hierom; that Nothing is Good but to enjoy the prime Goods of Nature, either all, or the greatest, as Carneades disputed it against the Stoicks. These then are single, the fol­lowing are mix'd. The three sorts of Goods, the greatest of the Soul; the next of the Body; exter­nal, the third, as the Peripateticks; nor held the ancient Academicks much otherwise. Pleasure with Honesty Clitomachus and Calliphon coupled; but Free­dom from Pain (y) Diodorus, the Peripatetick, joyn'd to Honesty. These are the Opinions which held their Station any time; for those of (z) Aristo, (a) Pyrrho, (b) Herillus, and some others, are vanish'd away. What claim these can make out, let us consider, omitting the Stoicks, whose opini­on I seem already to have enough defended. And indeed the cause of the Peripateticks is open'd, ex­cept Theophrastus, and if any of his Followers do very weakly dread and shrink from Pain; the rest may do what they usually do, magnifie the Gra­vity and Dignity of Vertue; and when they have extoll'd it to Heaven, that which such Eloquent men are wont copiously to do, it is easie to run down, and undervalue all other things in compa­rison thereto; for it is not free for them who hold that praise is to be sought with Pain, to deny them to be happy, who have acquir'd it; since though they are in some Evils, yet this name of happy hath a great length and breadth.

SECT. XXXI. The denomination of the whole is from the greater part.

FOR as Merchandize is said to be gainful, Hus­bandry fruitful, not if the one be always free from any loss, the other always from any injury of the Weather; but if for far the more part there prove good success in both; so Life, not only if it be cram'd with Goods on every side, but if in much the greater and more important part Goods do preponderate, it may rightly be call'd happy. Happiness of Life therefore, in these mens Scheme, will follow Vertue even to Punishment, and enter with it into the Bull, upon the warrant of Aristotle, Xenocrates, Speusippus, Polemo; nor will be corrupt­ed by small blandishments to forsake it. The same will be the judgment of Calliphon and Diodorus, both of which so embraces honesty, that he esteems all things which are without it, to be set behind it, and at a great distance too. The rest seem to be harder beset; yet they save themselves ashore. Epicure, Hierom, and if there be any that care to defend that Eloquent Carneades; for there is none but thinks the Soul judge of these Goods, and in­structs it how it, may be able to contemn those things which seem good or evil. For what you take to be the case of Epicurus, the same will be that of Hierom and Carneades, and in truth all the [Page 324] rest; for who is not sufficiently provided against Death or Pain? Begin we at him, if you please, whom we call Lasche, and voluptuary. What? do you take him to fear Death, or Pain? who calls that day, wherein he is a dying, blessed; and being in very great Pains, yet silences them with the memory and recalling to mind of his In­ventions▪ nor doth he this in such manner, as that he might be thought to bolt forth some extemporary flash, for this is his Sentiment about death, that when the living Creature is dissolv'd, all Sense is abolish'd; but what is without Sense nothing con­cerns us. About Pain also he hath certain Rules, which he follows; for he comforts their greatness, with the being short; and their length, with the being light. What I pray? those big speakers, are they better provided than Epicurus, against these two, which give the greatest anguish? Do not Epi­curus and the rest of the Philosophers seem suffici­ently prepar'd for those other Evils reputed? Who dreads not Poverty? yet so doth not any of the Philosophers.

SECT. XXXII. and in 33, 34, 35. A Plea for Poverty.

NAY, even he himself, with how little was he contented? None hath said more of a slen­der Diet; for the things which occasion a coveting after Money; as to have a constant supply for Love, for Ambition, for daily Expences, when he preserveth himself from all those things, what great [Page 325] need hath he for Money, or rather why should he at all regard it? Could Anacharsis the Scythian have no value for Money, and cannot our Country Philosophers do the same. A Letter of his goeth about in these words. Anacharsis to Hanno Greet­ing. My Cloaths is a Scythian Pelt; Shooes, the soles of my Feet; Bed, the Ground; Dainties, a good Sto­mach; Diet, Milk, Cheese, Flesh. Wherefore you may come over to me, as being at leisure. But those Presents of yours, wherein you display your magnificence, offer either your own Carthaginians, or the immortal Gods. Almost all Philosophers of all Perswasions could be thus minded, except those whom deprav'd Nature, had perverted from right Reason. Socrates at a Show, when a great quantity of Gold and Silver was carried by, said, How many things are there that I do not lack! Xenocrates, when Ambassadors from Alexander had brought him fifty Talents, which was a very great sum in those times, espe­cially at Athens, carried their Excellencies along with him into the Academy to Supper; provided no exceedings, but set before them a bare Colledge-Commons. The next day when they ask'd him, whom he would order to have the Money drawn over to him: What? saith he, did you not understand by yesterdays short meal, that I need no Money. At this when he saw them look somewhat dissatisfied, he took (c) a hundred Pounds (d) of it, lest he should seem to slight their Masters liberality. But Diogenes more bluntly yet, as a Cynick, when Alex­ander ask'd him, wherein he could serve him; At present, saith he, a little out of my Sun. He had, it seems, hinder'd his basking. He it was, who us'd to dispute, how much he surpass'd in Life and For­tunes, the great King of Persia: That he wanted nothing; the other would never have enough; he lack'd [Page 326] not the others Pleasures wherewith he could never be sa­tisfied; the other could no ways attain to his satisfactions.

SECT. XXXIII. That Pleasures may be purchas'd at an easie rate.

YOU see, I presume, how Epicurus hath divided the sorts of Desires, perhaps not over cun­ningly, yet usefully; that they are, part, natural and necessary; part, natural and not necessary; part, neither; that the necessary may be satisfy'd with next to nothing, for the Riches of Nature are low-priz'd; that the second sort is neither difficult to compass, nor to refrain. The third because they are wholly empty, and do not concern not only necessity, but so much as Nature, he thought were wholly to be cashiered. Upon this Head much is disputed by the Epicureans, and these Plea­sures are in particular depress'd; which in the ge­neral they do not dis-esteem; but they are straight­en'd for matter; for they tell us that obscene Plea­sures also, upon which they hold much discourse, are easie, common, and at hand; and they think them if Nature require, not to be measur'd by [Page 327] their Birth, or Quality, or Rank; but their Beau­ty, Age, and Shape; and that it is no hard mat­ter to abstain from them, if either Health, or Busi­ness, or Reputation require; and in the whole, that this sort of Pleasures is desirable, if it do no hurt; that it never doth good. And this whole Lesson about Pleasure, he hath so laid down, that he thinks Pleasure of it self, because it is Pleasure always desirable, and to be pursu'd; and by the same reason, Pain upon that very account, because it is Pain, always to be avoided. Therefore that a wise man would still hold this Ballance, to avoid Pleasure, if it would work greater Pain; and to embrace Pain, working a greater Pleasure; and that all delights, however they are judg'd, by bo­dily Sense, yet are resolv'd into the mind. Where­fore the Body rejoyceth only so long as it feels the present Pleasure; the Soul both perceives the pre­sent together with the Body, and foreseeth it com­ing; nor suffers it to depart when past. Thus that there will always be close and uninterrupted Plea­sures in the wise man; when the memory of those enjoy'd, is continu'd with the expectation of those hoped for. Arguments also of like Nature are ap­ply'd to Diet. There the magnificence and sump­tuousness of Feasting is decry'd, because Nature is contented with small Provision.

SECT. XXXIV. Examples of a light Diet in the Lacedemoni­ans and Persians.

NOW who doth not see that all these things are season'd by the appetite? Darius, upon a flight, having drank Water, and troubled and stain'd with the Corpse of the slain, said, He had not made a more pleasant draught. He never, it seems, had been a dry when he drunk: Nor had Ptolomy been a hun­gry when he eat; for on a time, in his Progress through Egypt, his Courtiers and Purveyance not being yet come up, when Houshold-Bread in a Country-Cottage was brought him: No Royal Cates ever went down with greater Gust than that Bread. They report of Socrates, when he was walking very earnestly too late in the Evening, and was ask'd why he did so, that he reply'd, He was going to Market to buy him a Stomach to his Supper. What? do we not see the Commons of the Lacede­monians in their Hall? where when the Tyrant Dio­nysius had supp'd, he said, He did not like their black Broth, which was the prime Dish of the Table to which he was invited: Then the Cook reply'd, No wonder, Sir, for you had not the proper seasoning. What is that, saith he, I pray? Hard hunting, sweat, race from Eurotas, hunger, thirst. For the Lacedemo­nian Feasts have these Sawces; and this may be un­derstood, not only from the Custom of men, but also from Beasts. These, if you put any Fodder to them, so it be not improper to their Nature, [Page 329] they are contented with it, and look no further. Some whole States train'd up by the mode of their Country, love Parsimony. The Fare of the Per­sians is describ'd by Xenophon, who saith of them, that they eat nothing with their Bread but Cresses. Although if Nature do require some more grateful repast, how many things grow out of the Earth, and upon Trees, both of easie purchase, and ad­mirable relish: Joyn hereto that dry Constitution which follows upon this spare Diet; compare with them the other sweating, belching, cram'd with Feasting, like stall'd Oxen; you will soon under­stand, that they who most follow after Pleasure, are the farthest from taking it; and that the delight of all enjoyments, is in the appetite, not satiety.

SECT. XXXV. —in the Academy.

THEY relate of Timothy the Athenian, and prime Noble-man in that State, that having supp'd with Plato, he was greatly taken with the enter­tainment, and seeing him on the morrow, said, your Suppers not only please at the present, but also do much good the next day. Whereas we have not the free and clear use of our understand­ing, when we are stuffed with Meat and Drink. There is an excellent Epistle of Plato's to Dions Re­lations, wherein is written to this effect, almost in the very words. When I was come thither, that Life which was cry'd up for happy, full of Italian and Sy­racusian Feasts; no ways agreed with me, twice a day [Page 330] to be gorg'd, never to lye single; and other Consequents of such a Life; wherein no man will ever he made wise, and sober much less. For what Nature can ever be of such an admirable Temper? How then can a Life be pleasant, where there is neither Prudence nor Sobriety? whence the Error of (e) Sardana­palus, the most wealthy King of Syria, is discerna­ble; who commanded it to be engrav'd on his Mo­nument.

What else, saith Aristotle, would one write upon a Beasts Sepulcher, and not a Kings? He saith he hath now he is dead, what, whilst he was alive, he had no longer than during the enjoyment; why then should Riches be wanted, or wherein doth not Po­verty suffer us to be happy? In Images, I warrant, Pictures, Plays. If any one be taken with these, do not mean men more enjoy them, than they who have the greatest store of them? for there is in our City abundance of all such things belonging to the Publick, and expos'd. Those which private men have, are neither so many, and they seldom see them, only when they come into their Country Houses. And then too, fell some remorses, when they call to mind (f) how they came by them. The day would fail, if I should go about to make an Apo­logy for Poverty; since the matter is plain, and Nature it self minds us every day, how few things she wants, how small, how cheap.

SECT. XXXVI. A Defence of obscurity in Birth and Condition.

SHALL then obscurity, or meanness, or even falling under the displeasure of the People; hinder a wise man from being Happy? Consider, whether this courting of the Vulgar, and that glory which is eagerly pursu'd, have not in it more trouble than Pleasure. Sure our Demosthenes was weak, who declar'd himself pleas'd with the whis­pering of a Woman, bearing a Tankard, as is the fashion in Greece, and rounding her Fellow in the Ear, There goeth the great Demosthenes. What can be more vain than this? yet how brave an Orator? but he knew, it appears, to speak to others, had not had much Communication with himself. We must therefore be inform'd, that neither is popular glory of it self to be affected, nor obscurity dread­ed. [Page 332] I came to Athens, saith Democritus, and no body took notice of me. Constant and Grave man, who glories that he escap'd Glory! Do Pipers and Fidlers play Tunes after their own, not the judg­ment of the Multitude; and shall a wise man, Ma­ster of a far nobler Science, enquire not what is agreeable to Honor and Conscience, but what humours the Mobile? Can there be any greater Folly, than (g) to idolize them joyntly, whom severally you look upon with contempt, as Me­chanicks and illiterate? No, the man mention'd will despise our Ambitions and Weaknesses; and reject the Honors of the People, though freely offer'd him; but we know not to contemn them, before we find cause to repent of our fondness of them. There is in Heraclitus the Naturalist, about Hermodorus the prime man of the Ephesians: He saith the Ephesians deserv'd to be all executed, be­cause when they banish'd Hermodore out of their Country, they spoke thus, We will have no man among us more excellent than another; but if any such there be, let them go elsewhere, and live among others. (h) Is not this so in all Common-wealths? Do they not hate all eminency in Vertue? What of Aristides (for (i) I had rather bring Instances of the Greeks, than our own) was he not, for that very reason, driven out of his Country, because he was righteous above the common level? How great troubles therefore do they miss, who enter into no engagements with the People? for what is sweeter than Retirement and Study? That Study; I mean, whereby we understand the infinity of the Universe and Nature; and in this visible World, Heaven, Earth, and Seas.

SECT. XXXVII. Supports under Banishment.

AFTER contempt therefore of Honour, con­tempt also of Money, what remains to be dreaded? Banishment, I warrant, which is count­ed amongst the greatest Evils. If that be evil up­on account of the Peoples displeasure, how much that is to be slighted, hath been shew'd a little be­fore. But if it is miserable to be absent from ones Country; all the Provinces are full of miserable Persons, for very few return out of them into their own Land. Ay, but the banish'd forseit their Estates. What then? Is not enough said of bear­ing Poverty with Patience. Indeed for Banish­ment, if you look upon the Nature of things, and not the discredit of the name; how much doth it [Page 334] differ from taking up our constant abode in a for­reign Country; yet so have the most noble Philo­sophers spent their whole Ages. (k) Xenocrates, (l) Crantor, (m) Arcesilas, (n) Lacydas, (o) Ari­stotle, (p) Theophrastus, (q) Zeno, (r) Cleanthes, (s) Chrysippus, (t) Antipater, (u) Carneades, (w) Pa­naetius, (x) Clitomachus, (y) Philo, (z) Antiochus, (a) Posidonius, innumerable others, who having once gone out of their Country, never return'd home again; but they did it without disgrace. Can disgrace take impression on a wise man (for this whole discourse is about the wise man) whom it can never justly befall; for we should not com­fort him who is justly banish'd. Lastly, in all cases they have the easiest expedient, who determine all the events of Life to Pleasure; so that, wheresoever that is to be had, they can there live happily. Wherefore (b) to every Scheme that word of Teu­cer is appliable.

Socrates being ask'd, what Country-man he styl'd himself; replys, a Cosmopolite; for he thought him­self Native and Denizen of the whole World. What did T. Albutius? did he not, with great content, follow his Studies in Banishment at Athens? which misfortune yet had not befallen him, had he liv'd quietly in the State, and follow'd the Rules of Epicurus. Now wherein was Epicurus happier, be­cause he liv'd in his own Country, (c) than Me­trodorus, because at Athens? or had Plato advantage over Xenocrates, or Polemo over Arcesilas, as to be­ing the more happy? But what is that State to be valu'd, out of which good and wise men are chas'd? (d) Demaratus indeed, the Father of our King Tar­quin, [Page 335] because he could not bear the Tyrant Cypsi­lus, fled from Corinth to Tarquinii, and there settled his Estate, and begot Children. Was it foolish in him to prefer Liberty abroad, before slavery at home?

SECT. XXXVIII & XXXIX. —Blindness.

FUrthermore, the Commotions of the Soul, Anxie­ties, and Discontents are buried in Oblivion, when our minds are fetch'd off to Pleasure. Wherefore Epi­curus did not without cause, take the boldness to say, that a wise man had always a greater por­tion of good things, because he was always in Plea­sures. Whence he thinks that to be prov'd which is our question, that a wise man is always happy.

What? though he want the Sense of Eyes, of Ears?

Yes, for he slights those very things. Since first that same horrible blindness, what Pleasures, I pray, doth it want? whereas some do even dis­pute, that the other Pleasures are lodg'd in the Senses themselves, but what are perceiv'd by sight, do not act in any pleasing of the Eyes; as the ob­jects of Tast, Smell, Feeling, Hearing, act on that very Organ, which is their proper Sensory. (e) No such thing is done in the Eyes. The Soul receives what we see. Now we may many and diverse ways have delights of the mind, without making any use of any Eye-sight. I speak as to the Scholar, and ingenuous Artist, whose Life is Contempla­tion. For the wise man's Study doth not use to call the Eyes in as assistants in the Prosecution of his search. And if the Night take not away an happy Life, why should a Day like to Night take it away? For that saying of Antipater the Cyrenaick, is a little [Page 337] towards merry, but yet may admit an ingenuous Sense. When the Ladies mourn'd over his dark­ness, saith he, What do you mean? Do you think there is no pleasure in the dark? (f) Appius the ancient, who was many years blind, we understand both by the Offices which he bore, and his Actions, that he was in that his Circumstance, wanting to the Duties neither of his publick, nor private Capa­city. We have also heard that the House of C. Drusus was fill'd with Clients, when they that could not see their own business, took a Blind man for their guide.

SECT. XXXIX.

WHEN we were Children, Cn. Aufidius, who had been Pretor, gave his Vote in the Se­nate, nor deny'd his Friends Chamber-Counsel, wrote a Greek History, and was clear sighted in Learning. Diodotus the Stoick liv'd many years at our House blind. Now he, what would be hardly credible, exercis'd himself in Philosophy, rather much more diligently than before, plaid on Mu­sical Instruments, after the Pythagorean usage, had Books read to him day and night; in which Studies he needed not Eyes. Above all this, what scarce seems possible without Eyes, he supported the Office of a Geometry Lecture, directing his Scholars by word of mouth, from what Point, to what Point they should draw every Line. They report of (g) Asclepiades a not obscure Ereirian Philosopher, when one ask'd what alteration Blindness had brought upon him; that he should answer, To carry one Servant more about with him; for as even the ex­treamest Poverty would be tolerable, if one might (h) what some Greeks do every day; so Blindness could easily be born, if it have sufficient Succors against its Infirmities. Democritus having lost his Eyes, could not distinguish, I grant, between white and black; but now, good and evil, just and unjust, honourable and base, profitable and disprofitable, great and small he could; and with­out variety of colours, might live happily; with­out discerning of Natures could not. Nay this man thought that the intention of his mind was ra­ther [Page 339] distracted by the sight of his Eyes; and where­as others oftentimes could not see what block lay in their ways, he rang'd over all infinity, so that no extream could set bounds to his further ad­vance. There is a Tradition too, that Homer was Blind. But we see his Picture more like than Poem. What Country, what Coast, what place of Grcece, what sort of Subject, what Skirmish, what pitch'd Field, what Gally, what motion of Men, what of Beasts, is not so drawn to the Life, as that he hath brought us to see, what himself saw not? What then, do we think, could either Homer, or any other Scholar, ever want to com­pleat the delight and pleasure of the Soul? or if the Matter were not so, would Anaxagoras, or this very Democritus, have left their Lands and Estates, and have given up themselves, with their whole Soul, to this Divine delight of learning and en­quiring. Therefore the Poets never bring in Tire­sias the Sooth-sayer, whom they feign to be a wise man, bemoaning his Blindness. But now (i) Ho­mer having fram'd Polyphemus of an inhumane and savage Character, makes him to hold discourse with his Ram, and praise its Fortunes that it could go whether it would, and graze upon what it would. He, indeed, did it well; for the Cyclops himself was never a whit wiser than his Ram.

SECT. XL. Deafness.

BUT what evil is there in Deafness? M. Crassus was thick of hearing, but another thing had more trouble in it, (k) that he heard ill; though, as I thought, wrongfully. (l) Our Epicureans can­not speak Greek; nor the Greek Epicureans Latin; therefore these are to each other, in regard of their respective Languages Deaf; and we are all so in those Tongues, that we do not understand which are innumerable; we are in truth Deaf. But they do not hear the voice of the Harper; neither do they the screaking of the Saw, when it is in whet­ting; nor the grunting of the Swine, when its throat is cutting; nor the roaring of the Sea, when they desire to take rest. And if, perchance, Mu­sick delights them, first they ought to consider, that many wise men have liv'd happy, before Airs were ever compos'd; then that much greater Pleasure is taken in reading, than hearing Songs. Then as a little before we turn'd over the Blind to the Pleasures of the Ears, so may we the Deaf, to that of the Eyes; for he that can speak with him­self; will not much need the Discourse of another. Put case that all Evils were heap'd on one man, so that he were both Blind and Deaf; further, op­press'd with most sharp Pains of the Body; which first of themselves use to dispatch the man; but if, [Page 341] perchance, they be drill'd out to any length of time, and yet torment so violently, that we should not see reason enough to endure them any longer; good Gods! (m) why do we make much diffi­culty? for the Harbor is at hand, death upon the spot, an eternal receptacle into a State of insen­sibility. (n) Theodorus said to Lysimachus, threat­ning him with death, you have, indeed, rais'd your self to great advancement, if you can compare in power with a Spanish Fly. Paul, when King Perses peti­tion'd him not to be led in Triumph, reply'd, That is in your own Power. Much hath been said of death the first day, when the Debate was expresly concerning death; and not a little, the second, when the Subject was about Pain; he that can re­member that, is in no great danger of not think­ing death either to be desir'd, or at least not to be fear'd.

SECT. XLI. That it is an opinion, almost universally, held by the Philosophers, that wise men are always happy.

THAT order seems, in my judgment, fit to be observ'd in Life, which is enjoyn'd in the treats of the Greeks, either drink or be gone. And reason good, for either let a man enjoy the plea­sure of taking his Cup with others, or let him time­ly withdraw, lest, he being sober, be fallen upon by the rest in a drunken Fit. So should a man avoid, by retiring, what injuries of Fortune he cannot sustain. These same directions of Epicurus, repeats Hierom word for word. Now if those Phi­losophers, who are of the opinion, that vertue of it self is of no consideration; all that we call honest and praise-worthy, they say to be meer Jargon, and a pure Rant; yet if these judge the wise man to be always happy; what, I pray, do you think should the Philosophers descended from Socrates and Plato do? some of which, say there is so great excellency in the goods of the mind, that those of the Body and external ones, are eclips'd by them; others do not so much as count them goods; place all their advantages in their mind. Which Controversie of theirs, Carneades was wont to moderate, as an Umpire to which both Parties refer'd their Cause [Page 343] to be compromis'd. For whereas what things the Peripateticks think goods, the Stoicks count the same Conveniencies, and yet the Peripateticks do not at­tribute more to Riches, Health, and other things of like Nature; then the Stoicks, since they were to be weigh'd by reality, not words, he deny'd there was any just cause of Dissention. Wherefore let the Philosophers of other Perswasions, look to it, how they can gain this Point. Yet I am pleas'd that they make a profession beseeming Philoso­phers, about wise mens title to living in perpetual happiness. But since we must be going to mor­row, let us comprise in memory these five days Debates. And to say the truth, I think I shall draw them up in writing (for upon what can we better employ (o) this leisure, such as it is?) and we will send these other five Books to our Friend Bru­tus, by whom we have not only been invited to the making Philosophical Treatises, (p) but also provok'd. Wherein how much we shall profit others, we cannot easily tell; but for our own most bitter griefs, and various disquiets, charging us on every side, no other relief could be found.