I. Of MAN in general.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

II. The BODY.

WHAT do you think of this Body of ours?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

III. The SOUL.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

BAGLIVI is of that opinion ^*.

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

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

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

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

SNEERING is no Proof.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

IV. SENSATION.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

YOU design to be merry.

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

HE must be a sorry Friend that would not.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

V. IMAGINATION.

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

WE hardly know what Imagina­tion is.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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I was still mightily pleas'd with that Passage.

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

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

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

I shall not dispute that with you.

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

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

VI. The PASSIONS.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

POOR Gentleman!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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A poor account of true Religion!

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

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

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

VII. COMPLEXION, DISPOSITION, HUMOUR.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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SOME are even gratified with a Nod or a Smile.

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

VIII. LIBERTY.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

HAPPY Genius!

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

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

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

Is it not so that Mr. Pope has it?

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

BUT those Opinions are wearing out in this Island.

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

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

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

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

IX. REASON.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

WITH all my heart.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

X. The MEMORY.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

NOT well.

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

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

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

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

XI. SPEECH.

MR. LOCKE was an ingenious Man.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[Page 92]

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

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

XII. A REVIEW of the foregoing ARTICLES.

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

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

Animula vagula Blandula, &c.

POOR Adrian! what did his Em­pire signify then?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[Page 103]

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

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

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

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

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

THEY shall never be instructed by me.

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

I know none.

I. The WORLD taken in different Senses.

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

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

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

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

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

II. The WORLD divided into two Cities.

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

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

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

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

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

[Page 111]

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

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

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

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

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

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

[Page 113]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

BUT what do you think of Envy?

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

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

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WE are got into a sad Field.

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

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

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

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

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

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

III. The Mixt STATE of Things.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

IV. Remains of VIRTUE.

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

ALL he writes is so.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

V. Helps to RELIGION.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

VI. The EQUALITY of Men by Nature.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

VII. Accidental Characters.

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

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

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

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

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

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

WHY do you call it private Property?

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

[Page 162]

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

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

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

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

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

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

[Page 164]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

THAT'S Shaftesbury. But these are poor Doings.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

VIII. CONVERSATION.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

AGAIN,

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

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

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

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

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

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

WASTED indeed!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

WHAT do you think of Smiling?

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

THE tedious Drawing-Room!

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

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

WHAT shall become of Roman­ces?

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

SOME Novels are even but dull.

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

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

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

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

IX. BOOKS.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I wish that were done.

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

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

PRAY return as soon as you can.

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