Essays moral and philosophical, on several subjects: viz. A view of the human faculties. ... An essay on self-love.

Table of contents

- [titlepage]

- ADVERTISEMENT From the Publisher.

- CONTENTS.

- DIALOGUES on several Subjects betwixt two Intimate Friends.

- Part I. A View of the HUMAN FACULTIES.

- Part. II. A short Account of the WORLD.

- Two Discourses on DECENCY.

- An Essay on SELF-LOVE.

- ADDITIONS.

- [dialogues]

- PART I. A VIEW OF THE HUMAN FACULTIES.

- I. Of MAN in general.

- II. The BODY.

- III. The SOUL.

- IV. SENSATION.

- V. IMAGINATION.

- VI. The PASSIONS.

- VII. COMPLEXION, DISPOSITION, HUMOUR.

- VIII. LIBERTY.

- IX. REASON.

- X. The MEMORY.

- XI. SPEECH.

- XII. A REVIEW of the foregoing ARTICLES.

- PART II. A SHORT ACCOUNT OF THE WORLD.

- I. The WORLD taken in different Senses.

- II. The WORLD divided into two Cities.

- III. The Mixt STATE of Things.

- IV. Remains of VIRTUE.

- V. Helps to RELIGION.

- VI. The EQUALITY of Men by Nature.

- VII. Accidental Characters.

- VIII. CONVERSATION.

- IX. BOOKS.

- TWO DISCOURSES ON DECENCY.

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

- DISCOURSE II. Plerique Homines quos cum nihil refert pudet, Ubi pudendum est, ibi illos deserit Pu dor.

- AN ESSAY ON SELF-LOVE. AN ESSAY ON SELF-LOVE.

- INTRODUCTION.

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

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

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

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

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

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

- SECT. VII. NATURAL LOVE considered under different Denominations.

- SECT. VIII. Of other Engagements of the AFFECTION.

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

- SECT. X. Some Acceptations of CONSCIENCE.

- SECT. XI. The REALITY of VIRTUE.

- SECT. XII. RELIGION.

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

- SECT. XIV. The LOVE of the CREATURES.

- SECT. XV. The LOVE of GOD.

- ADDITIONS.

- No. I. SELF-LOVE, PLEASURE, HAPPI NESS, INTEREST.

- No. II. Description of SELF-LOVE.

- No. III. VICE, SIN, EVIL.

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

- No. V. RELIGION, CHARITY.

- No. VI. VIRTUE, JUSTICE, DISINTE RESTEDNESS.

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

- No. VIII.

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

- No. X. TRUTH.

- No. XI. Why the Words (HEB. XII.) are sup pos'd to mean instead of the Joy set before him, &c. rather than because of the Joy, &c.

- No. XII.

- No. XIII.

- Books printed for J. Osborn and T. Longman.

DIALOGUES ON SEVERAL SUBJECTS, BETWIXT TWO INTIMATE FRIENDS.

FINIS.

ESSAYS MORAL AND PHILOSOPHICAL, ON SEVERAL SUBJECTS: VIZ.

- A VIEW of the HUMAN FACULTIES.

- A short ACCOUNT of the WORLD.

- Two DISCOURSES on DECENCY.

- An ESSAY on SELF-LOVE.

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

ADVERTISEMENT From the Publisher.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

CONTENTS.

DIALOGUES on several Subjects betwixt two Intimate Friends.

Part I. A View of the HUMAN FACULTIES.

- I. OF Men in general. pag. 1

- II. The Body. 9

- III. The Soul. 16

- IV. Sensation. 23

- V. Imagination. 33

- VI. The Passions. 44

- VII. Complexion, Disposition, Humour. 54

- VIII. Liberty. 58

- IX. Reason. 69

- X. The Memory. 85

- XI. Speech. 89

- XII. A Review of the foregoing Articles. 93

Part. II. A short Account of the WORLD.

- I. The World taken in different Senses. 106

- II. The World divided into two Cities. 109

- III. The mixt State of Things. 120

- IV. Remains of Virtue. 132

- V. Helps to Religion. 144

- VI. The Equality of Men by Nature. 154

- VII. Accidental Characters. 158

- VIII. Conversation. 175

- IX. Books. 191

Two Discourses on DECENCY.

- Disc. I. Decency is the least of all Laws, and the most observed. 205

- Disc. II. 224

An Essay on SELF-LOVE.

- Introduction. 245

- Sect. I. Self-Love commonly taken in a bad Sense: The Duke of Rochefoucault's Account of it. 248

- Sect. II. The Change made on Self-Love by the Fall. 252

- Sect. III. What may be called lawful in Self-Love, from some of its proper Acceptations. 255

- Sect. IV. The Desires of Man considered more particularly. 257

- Sect. V. The two Principles of Action, or the two Sources of Virtue and Vice. 259

- Sect. VI. The Corruption of Self-Love farther considered with respect to all Virtues, and Friendship in particular. 262

- Sect. VII. Natural Love considered under different Denominations. 267

- Sect. VIII. Of other Engagements of the Affection. 274

- Sect. IX. The Meaning of Disinterestedness. 276

- Sect. X. Some Acceptations of Conscience. 282

- Sect. XI. The Reality of Virtue. 290

- Sect. XII. Religion. 295

- Sect. XIII. The Unfitness of Self, as an Object of Love. 303

- Sect. XIV. The Love of the Creatures. 307

- Sect. XV. The Love of God. 314

ADDITIONS.

- I. Self-Love, Pleasure, Happiness, Interest. 336

- II. Description of Self-Love. 341

- III. Vice, Sin, Evil. 345

- IV. From H. More's Letters. 347

- V. Religion, Charity. 352

- VI. Virtue, Justice, Disinterestedness. 357

- VII. From Mr. Pascal, Sect. 26. 361

- VIII. Civitates, &c. 363

- IX. Arrian, Lib. 2. Cap. 22. 364

- X. Truth. 367

- XI. Why the Words, Heb. xii. are suppos'd to mean instead of the Joy set before him, &c. rather than because of the Joy, &c. 369

- XII. Amor, &c. 374

- XIII. 375

PART I. A VIEW OF THE HUMAN FACULTIES.

I. Of MAN in general.

Lucinus and Aemilius.

L.

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

Ae.

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

[*]

good Heathen Philosophers.

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

L.

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

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

Ae.

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

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

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

L.

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 to make him a-kin to the highest and lowest Beings, the loveliest and the hatefullest Things.

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

Ae.

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

L.

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

II. The BODY.

L.

WHAT do you think of this Body of ours?

Ae.

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

L.

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

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

Ae.

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

L.

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

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

Ae.

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

L.

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

Ae.

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

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

L.

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

Ae.

FEW Criticisms are of so much use. But notwithstanding all the agreeable things that are to be observ'd in the Contrivance of 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 mangle a dead Body without much Compassion, and without any Injury, as if it were a Log of Wood.

L.

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

Ae.

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

L.

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

III. The SOUL.

Ae.

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

L.

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

Ae

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

L.

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

IF we were to search for mere Life, or if any Person could tell us where it is to be found, I believe the Answer would be, not in the smallest Fibres; for they are but Threads: neither in the thinnest Membranes, for they are but Threads woven together. If
Gen. 9.

it is in the Blood, as the Scripture seems to intimate, it still escapes our Discovery; and the Blood itself must be reckon'd but a Vehicle for the Life.

Ae

ANOTHER Text in the same Book says
Gen. 2.

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

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

L.

BAGLIVI is of that opinion[*].

Ae.

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

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

L.

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

Ae.

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

L.

SNEERING is no Proof.

Ae.

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

L.

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

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

Ae.

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

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

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

L.

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

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

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

IV. SENSATION.

Ae.

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

L.

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

Ae.

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 a word that may be applied to them all, yet in common discourse it is appropriated to one of these five Powers in particular: sometimes we say, a Sight strikes the Eye, a Sound the Ear. But 'tis the Hand that's usually said to touch. And hence Touching, and the other four Senses, are consider'd as active; because they can be applied to particular Objects, as the Mind directs; by whose orders they also suspend their Operations. A Man may shut his Eyes when he thinks fit. But upon the matter, all the Senses are rather passive than active, which I believe you will readily grant.

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

Ae.

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

L.

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

Ae.

YOU design to be merry.

L.

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

Ae.

HE must be a sorry Friend that would not.

L.

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

Ae.

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

How the same Nerves are fashion'd to sustain

The greatest Pleasure, and the greatest Pain!

L.

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

Ae.

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

L.

MANKIND are in some delusion as to that point. Mr. Boerhaave and others are very good, for shewing the Frame and Texture of the Organs belonging to each Sense. Mean time the Touch and Taste are generally most gratified, and the Taste yet more than the former. And to these two Senses may be referr'd all that's call'd Luxury: the 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, speaking of the very Organs: How much more satisfaction must it give to reflect on the Uses, the Delights, and the Certainty of the Operations themselves? To suppose them fallacious, were to give our selves the lye, as well as to unhinge all Society, Law and Commerce. A Man distinguishes his Friend well from a Stranger, he knows his very foot before entring the Room. Witnesses are admitted upon their Knowledge of Facts: and a Judge, from his Conviction of the Proof, acquits the Innocent or condemns the Guilty: To say nothing of more familiar Distinctions, known to young and old.

Ae.

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

L.

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

Ae.

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

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

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, and all these to the full, and of the best: what should poor Man do without Objects to entertain the rest of his Senses! How melancholly must he be, and how little Joy would his finest Ideas often give him? I say often, because sometimes there is a pleasure in them: but no body can promise himself the continuance of that Pleasure, and sometimes a Man would quit it for a Pipe of Tobacco. And if Ideas yield to the Senses, these must yield to the Affections. For if the Affections are not gratified, or any one of them that chances to have the Dominion for the time, what good could the whole Earth do us? Let a Man in such a situation try how he can suffice himself, and make the best of his Self-Love that he can, he'll find so little pleasure from that Fountain, that he would wish he were out of Existence.

V. IMAGINATION.

L.

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

Ae.

WE hardly know what Imagination is.

L.

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

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

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

Ae.

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

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

L.

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

Ae.

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

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

L.

HOW the Imagination imposes upon us when the Senses are entire, is still harder to explain. But sometimes we say, the Imagination 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 other source can it proceed, that a Man in perfect Health is not easy to travel the length of a Street, unless he have a Coach? and that another is not easy in a very fine Coach, because it has not a Coronet?

Ae.

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

L.

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

Ae.

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

L.

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

Ae.

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

Of this none thinks (the due Division's such)

His own too little, or his Friend's too much.

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

L.

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

—He knew

When Butter does refuse to come,

And Love proves cross and humoursome.

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

For he by Geometrick Scale

Could take the size of Pots of Ale,

Resolve by Sines and Tangents streight

If Bread or Butter wanted weight.

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

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

Ae.

I was still mightily pleas'd with that Passage.

L.

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

Ae.

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

L.

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

Ae.

I shall not dispute that with you.

L.

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

And Wit was his vain frivolous pretence,

Of pleasing others at his own expence.

Satyr on Man.
But this desire of pleasing is not very disinterested.

VI. The PASSIONS.

Ae.

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

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

L.

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

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

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

Ae.

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 Tune; which appears remarkably in those Aversions and Disgusts that are personal.

L.

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

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

Ae.

POOR Gentleman!

L.

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

Ae.

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

L.

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

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

Ae.

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

L.

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

Ae.

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

L.

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

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

Ae.

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

" Appetite with an Opinion of attaining is called Hope.

" The same without such Opinion, Despair.

*** " Sudden Courage, Anger.

" Constant Hope, Confidence of our selves.

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

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

L.

A poor account of true Religion!

Ae.

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

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

L.

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

VII. COMPLEXION, DISPOSITION, HUMOUR.

Ae.

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

L.

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

Ae.

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

L.

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

Ae.

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

L.

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

For Obstinacy's ne'er so stiff

As when 'tis in a wrong belief.

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

Ae.

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

[*]New Passions new Opinions still excite,

And what we like at Noon, we loath at Night.

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

L.

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

Ae.

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

L.

SOME are even gratified with a Nod or a Smile.

Ae.

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

VIII. LIBERTY.

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

Ae.

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

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

L.

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

Ae.

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

L.

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

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

Ae.

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

L.

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

Ae.

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

L.

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

[*]—So will fall

He and his faithless Progeny: whose Fault?

Whose but his own? Ingrate, he had of me

All he could have; I made him just and right,

Sufficient to have stood, though free to fall.

Such I created all th' Ethereal Powers

And Spirits, both them who stood, and them who fail'd;

Freely they stood who stood, and fell who fell.

Not free, what proof could they have given sincere

Of true Allegiance, constant Faith or Love,

Where only what they needs must do appear'd,

Not what they would? What Praise could they receive?

What Pleasure I, from such Obedience pay'd?

When Will and Reason (Reason also is Choice)

Useless and vain, of freedom both despoil'd,

Made passive both, had serv'd Necessity,

Not me. They therefore as to right belong'd,

So were created, nor can justly accuse

Their Maker, or their making, or their Fate;

As if Predestination over-rul'd

Their Will dispos'd by absolute Decree

Or high Foreknowledge; they themselves decreed

Their own revolt, not I; if I foreknew,

Foreknowledge had no Influence on their Fault;

Which had no less prov'd certain unforeknown.

So without least Impulse or shadow of Fate,

Or aught by me immutably foreseen,

They trespass, Authors to themselves in all

Both what they judge, and what they chuse; for so

I form'd them free, and free they must remain,

Till they enthrall themselves; I else must change

Their Nature, and revoke the high Decree.

Unchangeable, eternal, which ordain'd

Their Freedom; they themselves ordain'd their Fall.

The first Sort by their own suggestion fell,

Self-tempted, self-deprav'd: Man falls deceiv'd

By the other first. Man therefore shall find Grace.

Ae.

HAPPY Genius!

L.

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

Ae.

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

L.

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

Perverse Mankind! whose Wills created free,

Charge all their Crimes on Absolute Decree.

Is it not so that Mr. Pope has it?

Ae.

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

L.

BUT those Opinions are wearing out in this Island.

Ae.

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

L.

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

Ae.

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

L.

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

Others apart sat on a Hill retir'd,

In Thoughts more elevate, and reason'd high

Of Providence, Foreknowledge, Will and Fate,

Fixt Fate, Free-will, Foreknowledge absolute,

And found no end, in wandring Mazes lost.

IX. REASON.

Ae

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

L.

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

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

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

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

Ae.

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

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

L.

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

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

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

Ae.

WE may thus have some little Idea of Faith, Reason, and Revelation; the last of which (like the drawing of a Curtain) gives a Discovery of what the natural Powers of Man, or the present Frame of his Understanding could not find out, 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 ought to take great care that our Faith be not found to be bare Opinion.

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

L.

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

Ae.

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

Why paler Looks impetuous Rage proclaim,

And why chill Virgins redden into flame? &c.

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

L.

WITH all my heart.

Ae.

—"These Revelations, as most in Sacred Writ, are short and incompleat: 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 and the Works. In all such things Reason may modestly exert itself, and we are guilty of sloth if it be not exerted. But we must be in the dark about many things still: So the Doctor subjoins;

"IN like manner, how little is it we understand concerning the Holy Ghost? That he descended like a Dove upon our Saviour: like cloven Tongues of Fire upon the Apostles—These things we know as bare Matter of Fact, but the method of these Operations we do not at all understand. Who can tell us now, what that is which we call Inspiration? What change is wrought in the Brain, and what in the Soul; and how the Effect follows?—These Things we see darkly, and hope they will be set in a clearer light, and the Doctrines of our Religion more fully expounded to us in that future World, &c. [*]"

This is an instance of great Honesty in that ingenious Man, so frankly to confess his Ignorance, when far meaner Heads take upon them to explain the deepest Mysteries! As a strange turn appears in others, who will not admit of the possibility of a thing, because they cannot conceive how it is! Reason would at least tell them thus much, that every thing is possible to the Almighty, which does not imply a Contradiction.

L.

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

Ae

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

L.

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

Ae

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

L.

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

Ae

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

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

L.

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

Ae

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

L.

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

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

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

Ae.

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

L.

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

X. The MEMORY.

Ae.

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

L.

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

Ae

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

L.

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

Ae

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

L.

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

Ae

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

L.

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

Ae.

NOT well.

L.

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

Ae.

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

L.

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

Ae.

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

XI. SPEECH.

L.

MR. LOCKE was an ingenious Man.

Ae.

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

L.

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

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

Ae.

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

L.

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

Ae.

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

L.

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

Ae.

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

L.

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

XII. A REVIEW of the foregoing ARTICLES.

Ae.

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

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

Animula vagula Blandula, &c.

L.

POOR Adrian! what did his Empire signify then?

Ae.

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

L.

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

Ae.

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

L.

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

Ae.

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

L.

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

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

Ae.

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

L.

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

Ae.

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

L.

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

Ae.

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

L.

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

Tangere enim & tangi sine corpore nulla potest res.

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

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

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

Ae.

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

L.

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

Ae.

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

L.

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

Ae.

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

L.

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

Ae.

THEY shall never be instructed by me.

L.

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

Ae.

I know none.

PART II. A SHORT ACCOUNT OF THE WORLD.

I. The WORLD taken in different Senses.

Aemilius and Lucinus.

Ae

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

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

L.

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

Ae.

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

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

II. The WORLD divided into two Cities.

L.

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

Ae.

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

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

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

L.

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

Ae.

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

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

L.

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

Ae.

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

L.

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

Ae.

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

L.

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

Ae.

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

L.

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

Ae.

BUT at the same time that the Love of Money is despised, the Possession of it generally draws Respect. Salust was sensible of this in one of his Discourses to Caesar, where he proposes, as a great stop to Reformation in the Commonwealth, to take away the Respect given to Money, pecuniae Decus; concluding

[*]"that the paying such Honour to it, proves the contempt of all Virtues."

But how to bring about that point of Reformation, is not easy to conceive.

L.

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

Ae.

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

L.

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

Ae.

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

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

L.

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

Ae.

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

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

L.

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

Ae.

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

L.

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

Ae.

BUT what do you think of Envy?

L.

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

Ae.

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

L.

WE are got into a sad Field.

Ae.

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

L.

THIS puts me in mind of a contrary Supposition of the Characteristicks, which does not shew so much knowledge of the World.

"I can very well suppose (says that [*] Author) "Men may be frighted out of their wits: but I have no apprehension they should be laugh'd out of them. I can hardly imagine that in a pleasant way they should ever be talked out of their Love for Society, or reason'd out of Humanity and common Sense."

Now an appeal may be made to the World, if the reverse of this be true. Indeed Men cannot well be said to be reason'd out of Humanity and common Sense, but they are certainly talk'd and laugh'd out of both. We have a more natural account from [†] Quevedo, where (speaking of those in the righthand way) he says, "some of them stopt their ears and went on without minding our Raillery: others we put out of countenance, and they came over to us."

Ae.

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

L.

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

Ae.

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

L.

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

III. The Mixt STATE of Things.

Ae.

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

L.

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

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

Ae.

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

L.

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

Ae.

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

L.

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

Ae.

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

L.

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

Ae.

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 confin'd to that Sense; the Nerves being stretch'd out of their natural Position, or whatever be the cause: but the rest of the Senses have their uneasy Sensations too; the Smell, the Taste, the Eye and the Ear are grated and offended, or in general render'd very uneasy, whatever Term the uneasiness is express'd by. A delicate Person would be shock'd to find himself led into an Hospital, or to have a List of Diseases laid before him; all representations of Pain and Nastiness are disagreeable, two things (however) the Body in its present State is very liable to. And the general tendency of all Bodies, animate and inanimate, to Corruption and Dissolution, is very conspicuous.

L.

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

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

Ae

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

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

L.

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

Ae.

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

L.

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

Ae.

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

L.

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

Did Fate, or We, when great Atrides dy'd,

Urge the bold Traitor to the Regicide?

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

Ae.

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

L.

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

IV. Remains of VIRTUE.

L.

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

Ae.

ALL he writes is so.

L.

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

Ae.

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

L.

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

Ae.

THE restraints of Pride and Shame are evident enough: but why may not Virtue have its attractions as well as Vice? not is it properly Vice, but Pleasure, that has the Charm; as in the Story of Hercules. Sir Thomas More is of opinion, that Virtue is 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 and dishonest Pleasure: nor is the Opposition betwixt the Pleasures of the Body and those of the Mind, no Pleasures being dishonest that are natural; but that which spoils all, is the bad Principle from which the Actions and Intentions proceed.

L.

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

Ae.

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

MAY not a Judge give a just sentence without any view to Applause, or any fear of Censure? He may be supposed to be in such Circumstances, that his Name shall never be heard of; and his belief of a future State can likewise be supposed to be very little, 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 they would naturally go the straight Road, if there was nothing to allure and seduce them. Even when we are deceiv'd 'tis under some specious appearance or other; decipimur specie Recti—So that if we should allow that a Man might be so perverse as to wrong his Neighbour in the point already mention'd, we may suppose him to have been previously deluded by false Ideas of Glory and Gallantry; he has imagin'd it a pretty thing to break thro' all Laws, 'tis a sort of Conquest too, and he can talk of Favours he has obtain'd, and of more than he has obtain'd.

L.

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

Ae.

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

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

Ae.

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

L.

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

—yet once more he shall stand

On even ground against his mortal Foe:

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

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

Ae.

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

L.

BUT after all, we have something given us to cultivate and improve. Mr. Locke does not deny the vis insita, you know: 'tis on the Title-Page of his Book of Education; and in his Essay on Human Understanding, he does not deny neither,

"[*]That there are natural Tendencies imprinted on the Minds of Men."

. . . He says indeed, (§. 4) "Another reason that makes me doubt of any innate practical Principles, is, that I think there cannot any one moral Rule be proposed, whereof a Man may not justly demand a Reason." . . . And he adds, "should that most unshaken Rule of Morality, and Foundation of all social Virtue, That one should do as he would be done unto, be proposed to one who had never heard it before, but yet is of Capacity to understand the meaning; might he not without any absurdity ask a Reason why? And were not he that proposed it bound to make out the Truth and Reasonableness of it to him?"

Ae.

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

V. Helps to RELIGION.

L.

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

Ae.

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

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

L.

BUT this divine Love seems to be quite lost since the Sin of Adam, Faith which is previous to that Virtue being now extinguished. Before we can love we must believe, since (according to the old Maxim) there is no desire of a thing unknown. All the Faith natural Men can pretend to, is work'd up by their Reason, [*] the things of God appearing Foolishness to them. We may see God indeed in his Works, for the Heavens declare his Glory, and there may be an impression of his almighty Power upon our minds some other way than by our own Reasoning or making Inferences from the things that strike our Senses: but this is only what they call believing à posteriori, and we could give no Demonstration of the Existence of God to others who doubt of it, but that either they must believe it, or they 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: he also calls Faith the Evidence of things not seen.

Ae.

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

L.

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

Ae.

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

L.

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

Ae.

I know not what Thoughts would occur to us, and what we would do in a meer natural State, without the advantage of some Instruction. Mr. Wollaston has given a Scheme of the Religion of Nature very handsomely, and towards the end of it, confesses he wants a Guide: but then he had Plato and Cicero, and the Rabbins, to be Guides to Him, as they had others before them: so that unless a Man was writing who had seen no Books, and had received no verbal Instruction, we can hardly 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 in¦structed, which irrational Creatures have not. And if the usual means of Instruction should be denied, (as in the case of a Man brought up, by some strange Accident, among wild Beasts) we can set no Limits to the Source of Light, the Eternal Reason, which may communicate it self in such Circumstances; and very easily supply the loss of all ordinary means whatsoever. But these Enquiries are of no great use.

L.

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

Ae.

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

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

L.

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

Ae.

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

L.

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

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

Ae.

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

L.

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

Ae.

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

VI. The EQUALITY of Men by Nature.

Ae.

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

L.

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

Ae.

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

EVERY Man has something in him of the Mathematician, the Mechanick, the Lawyer, the Statesman, the Mountebank; and so of all other Trades or Professions. A Man, no doubt, may mistake his Genius, and enter upon a wrong Trade; but still he may know some little thing of his Business, tho' as little as you please. [*]Mr. Pascal observes, "There is a wide difference between a Genius for the Mathematicks, and a Genius for Business or Policy." The French word is Finesse, which is not always taken in a bad sense. He shews at some length the different Principles on which those Professions are founded; and drawing to a conclusion, he says,

"[†]But then 'tis certain, between both, that a false Genius will neither make a Geometry Professor, nor a Privy Counsellor."

L.

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

Ae.

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

L.

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

Ae.

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

L.

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

Ae.

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

VII. Accidental Characters.

L.

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

Ae.

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

L.

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

Ae.

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

Dîs te minorem quod geris imperas,

Romane—

L.

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

Ae.

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

L.

WHY do you call it private Property?

Ae.

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

L.

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

Ae.

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

Per mare Pauperiem fugiens, per saxa, per ignes.

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

L.

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

Ae.

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

L.

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

Ae.

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

L.

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

Ae.

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

L.

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

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

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

Ae.

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

L.

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

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

Ae.

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

L.

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

Ae.

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

L.

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 in the same Person, but 'tis the prevailing one that gives the Denomination. Enthusiasm is apt to despise all Observances, Superstition to magnify and multiply them.

Ae.

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

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

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

L.

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

Ae.

THAT'S Shaftesbury. But these are poor Doings.

L.

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

Ae.

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

L.

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

Ae.

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

L.

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

Ae.

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

L.

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

Ae.

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

VIII. CONVERSATION.

L.

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

Ae.

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

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

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

L.

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

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

Ae.

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

L.

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

Ae.

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

L.

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

Sermo oritur, non de villis domibusve alienis;

Nec male necne Lepos sallet: sed quod magis ad nos

Pertinet, & nescire malum est, agitamus: utrumne

Divitiis homines, an sint virtute beati?

Quidve ad Amicitias, Usus, Rectumne trahat nos?

Et quae natura boni, summumque quid ejus? &c.

AGAIN,

Brundusium Numici melius via ducat an Appî:

Quem damnosa Venus, quem praeceps alea nudat;

Gloria quem supra vires & vestit & ungit, &c.

Ae.

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

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

L.

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

Ae.

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

L.

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

Ae.

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

L.

WASTED indeed!

Ae.

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

L.

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

Ae.

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

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

L.

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

Ae.

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

L.

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

Ae.

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

L.

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

Ae.

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

L.

WHAT do you think of Smiling?

Ae.

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

L.

THE tedious Drawing-Room!

Ae.

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

L.

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

Ae.

WHAT shall become of Romances?

L.

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

Ae.

SOME Novels are even but dull.

L.

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

Ae.

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

L.

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

Ae.

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

IX. BOOKS.

L.

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

Ae.

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

L.

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

Ae.

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

L.

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

Ae.

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 Books that are not despicable. This I mean of some Books where Instruction is openly intended: where it is intended more covertly, the Authors have a better Excuse to plead for the Rubbish that must be turn'd over. And the Reader's Intention being often Amusement, he will still find his account less or more, even in that View. All then, it seems, must be look'd into, even the common Performances of the Time. Wit is always Wit, and Dullness always Dullness.

L.

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

Ae.

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

L.

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

For out of old Fields, as Men saith,

Cometh all this new Corn, fro Year to Year;

And out of old Books, in good Faith,

Cometh all this new Science that Men lear.

Ae.

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

L.

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

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

Ae.

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

L.

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

Ae.

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

L.

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

Ae.

I wish that were done.

L.

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

Ae.

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

L.

PRAY return as soon as you can.

Ae.

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

Notes

*
Quid enim homini accidit infaelicius, quid turpius, quàm confusio actionum Mentis Corporisque?

Boerhaave Dissert. de Chemia.

↵

*

〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉 M. Antonin. Lib. II. 2.

〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉 Lib. III. 16.

↵

*
Deprehenduntur enim ibidem fulcimenta, columnae, trabes, propugnacula, hypomochlia, cunei, vectes, trochleae determinantes, funes, praela, folles, cribra, filtra, canales, receptacula.

Institutiones 40.

↵

†
Institut. 393.
↵

*
Evidenter sequitur posse Lapides adinstar Plantarum crescere ac vegetare: quia revera Lapidum Pori permeabiles sunt. Upon which he tells of a Shell-fish, call'd Dactilus Marinus, found in the midst of Stone alive, and very agreeable to the Taste, not far from Naples.

De Vegetatione Lapidum.

↵

*
Leviathan, Chap. 1.
↵

*

["They received the use of the five Operations of the Lord, and in the sixth place He imparted them Understanding; and in the seventh, Speech, an Interpreter of the Cogitations thereof." Ecclus. 17.]
Whatever may be in Grotius's Conjecture, that this Passage has been put on the Margin (and it looks to have been so) by some Follower of the Stoicks, it still shews that this way of classing our external Senses is pretty ancient: and it seems even to answer the purpose well enough; for we can find out no other Operation for discovering and surveying the Qualities of outward things, and for putting them to use.

↵

*

Papillae molles, pulposae, medullosae, nerveae, pyramidales, in nervis subcutaneis duris, exutâ membranâ exteriori emollitis, ortae, hinc admodum sensiles factae, affluenti assiduò tenuissimo liquore humectatae, epidermide tenuissimâ defensae; illibatâ sua sensibilitate, intra sinus, foveasque, sub cuticula latentes; in locis tactui exercendo propriis, nempe linguâ apice digitorum in manibus, pedibusque, contractiles; iterumque emissiles; sunt Organum corporeum quo explorata corpora tangi dicuntur. Boerhaave Institut.

He shews afterwards by what means Touch arises, and how the different Perceptions are excited of Heat and Cold, &c.—Tactus igitur fit—483. He goes very far, yet must stop short.

↵

†
Non ergo videtur diversitas, haec idaearum pendere tantum a varietate illâ, quâ ultima pars nervi construitur, sed a multis aliis praeterea non quidem causis, sed ex Instituto Conditoris adorandi conditionibus.

571.

↵

*

After having said many things of the Ear, from the best Authors, and his own Observations, he adds; "Supra omnem verò admirabilitatem constructa appariet Cochleae spiralis fabrica, &c." 562.

He had said of the Nose: "Sunt praeterea in his narium cavis recondita, & artificiose variis locis disposita, quatuor ossicula spongiosa—Sunt haec quatuor ossicula mire fabricata ex tenuissimis osseis lamellis, papyro tenuioribus—" 493.

"Nares investiuntur membranâ crassâ, molli, myriadibus vasculorum arteriosorum ornatâ—Membrana haec sollicite se insinuat—Unde mirabili instituto—" 494.

↵

*

—But know that in the Soul

Are many lesser Faculties that serve

Reason as chief; among these, Fancy next

Her office holds, of all external things,

Which the five watchful Senses represent,

She forms Imaginations, Airy Shapes,

Which Reason joining or disjoining frames

All what we affirm, or what deny, and call

Our Knowledge or Opinion; then retires

Into her private Cell: when Nature rests,

Oft in her absence, Mimick Fancy wakes

To imitate her; but, misjoining Shapes,

Wild Work produces oft, and most in Dreams,

Ill matching Words and Deeds long past and late.

Par. Lost. B. V.

↵

*
Leviath. Ch. 6.
↵

*
Dispensary.
↵

†
Rochefoucault.
↵

*

For he that swears against his Will,

Is of his own Opinion still.

↵

*
Paradise lost, Book III. L. 5.
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*

〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉

↵

*

〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉

Tit. 1. 12.

↵

*

Quam pene lapsu pes mihi lubrico

Gressum fefellit, dum pede metior

Immens•… parvo, dum trutinâ meâ

Expendo stultus, Judicium Dei.

* * *

Causas latentes dum sequor, anxius,

Et pertinacis viribus Ingeni

Pugno, profundum se Chaos ingerit,

Et nocte mentis lumen ad obruit.

↵

*
Theory of the Earth.
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*

〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉

↵

*
This was meant of things proposed to our Belief by others. And when a Man reflects of his own head upon Passages of Sacred Writ, if the Meaning is not so obvious, Reason is allowed to examine whether such Passages are to be taken in a literal sense or a figurative: and if he find it must be the figurative sense, then he is to consider what may be couched under the Figure it self.
↵

*
Dissertatio de Loquela.
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*
Apprehensio, Judicium, Discursus.
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*
The Body is touch'd, the Soul feels.
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*

〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉
, Mundus.

↵

†
Theory of the Earth.
↵

‖
Mr. Whiston.
↵

*
Rom. viii.
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*
De Civitate Dei.
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*
Alieni appetens, sui profusus.
↵

*
Ubi Divitiae clarae habentur, ibi omnia bona vitia sunt; Fides, Probitas, Pudor, &c.

Orat. 11. de Rep. Ordinanda.

↵

*

Stultorum incurata pudor malus ulcera celat,

Again,

—falsus Honor juvat, quem?

Hor.

And Plautus tells us, Plerique homines quos cum nihil refert, pudet &c.

↵

*
I. 96.
↵

†
Vision of Hell.
↵

*

In Libro 3. de Republica. Tullius Hominem dicit non ut a, matre sed a noverca natura editum in vitam, corpore & nudo & fragili & infirmo; animo autem anxio ad molestias, humili ad timores, molli ad labores, prono ad libidines: in quo tamen inesset, tanquam obrutus, quidam divinus ignis ingenii atque mentis.—

Rem vidit, causam nescivit: latebat enim eum cur esset gravt jugum super filios Adam. Lib. 4. contra Jul. Pelag.

↵

*
Confess. Lib. 1. cap. 1.
↵

†
"We must not by any means admit or imagine that all Nature, and this great Universe, was made only for the sake of Man, the meanest of all intelligent Creatures that we know of.—Surely if we made the least Reflection upon our selves with impartiality, we should be ashamed of such an arrogant Thought.—Man that comes into the World at the pleasure of another, and goes out by a hundred Accidents.—A knock on the head makes him a Fool, stupid as the Beasts of the Field; and a little excess of Passion or Melancholy makes him worse, mad and frantick. In his best Senses he is shallow, and of little Understanding; and in nothing more blind and ignorant than in things sacred and divine."

Theor. 1. B. C. xi.

↵

*
Mr. Collier's Translation.
↵

*
Art. III. and elsewhere.
↵

*

This Comedy deserves not to be forgot. Mons. Bayle was accused before the Divines of Rotterdam for advancing unfound Doctrine in his Pensees diverses. In his Continuation of those Thoughts he answers Mons. Jurieu's Accusations, and I believe quotes him fairly. Jurieu's words are, "He pretends that the Virtues of Christians do not proceed from a Principle of Religion, but only from Fear, the Love of worldly Honour, and other worldly Principles. A scandalous Proposition! which destroys all Virtues, as if there were no true Christians! See the Causes he gives of the Chastity of Women. He treats that matter after an impure and scandalous manner, pretending that Women are not chaste thro' Virtue and Religion."

Bayle answers, "Of all that my Accuser has done, this is what confirms me the most that he is like the unjust Judge who feared neither God nor Men: for if he had had any respect for the Publick, and any concern for Reputation, would he have dared to suppress the Exceptions I always made? Did not I positively except the truly Faithful and the true Religion? I renew my Declaration in these terms, I have declared already, and declare once more, that I except from the general Rule a good Number of Persons who are guided by the true Spirit of the Christian Religion, and whom God preserves from the Contagion almost universal."

I know not if the poor Clergyman made any Reply: but it was difficult to argue with one who had such a Talent, and not to come off with loss. Bayle goes on in his grave Ridicule, appealing to his Readers if he treats the Article of Womens Chastity after an impure and scandalous manner. "Are not they comprehended in that good Number of Persons guided by true Christianity? . . . . Thus what I have said does not concern the predestinate and regencrate Women; it only concerns the Women comprehended in the absolute Decree of Reprobation, who, according to the Theology of the Synod of Dort, are incapable of doing any thing for the Love of God, and live and die in the slavery of Sin. . . . . All that my Adversary can allow them, unless he will contradict the Decisions of that Synod, is that the servile Fear of Hell may restrain them. . . . . . . But is it not a greater Glory to the Sex, to ascribe their Chastity either to the Complexion, or the Ideas of Honour and Reputation, rather than the Fear of Punishment? Nor ought my Accuser to forget the severe and rude manner of his Preaching several times upon that Subject, and the Indignation a number of Women conceiv'd at him."

From the French Edition, p. 571.

This is a Specimen of a fly Writer, frequently imitated with less dexterity.

↵

*
Satire on Man.
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*
Book III.
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*
Book I. Chap. 3. §. 3.
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*
1 Cor. xi. 14-16.
↵

*
Juv. Sat. X. Pers. Sat. II.
↵

†
Arrian. Lib. I. Ch. 16.
↵

*
XXXI.
↵

†
Mr. Kennet has taken a good deal of liberty generally in his Translation: the French is, Mais les Esprits faux ne sont jamais ni fins ni geometres.
↵

*
Ecclus. xl.
↵

*
How wisely has it been ordain'd, to distinguish Men rather by the exterior shew, than by the interior Endowments! Here's another Person and I disputing the way. Who shall have the preference in this case? Why, the better Man of the two. But I am as good a Man as he: so that if no Expedient be found, he must beat me, or I must beat him. Well; but all this while, he has four Footmen at his back, and I have but one. This is a visible advantage: We need only tell Noses to discover it. 'Tis my part therefore to yield; and I am a Blockhead if I contest the point. See here an easy Method of Peace, the great Safeguard and supreme Happiness of this World. XXIX.
↵

*
Le Droit publique, Liv. I. Tit. IX. Sect. 3.
↵

†
Place above-cited, X.
↵

*
Vulgus autem tam Chlamydatos, quam Coronam voco: non enim Colorem vestium, quibus praetexta Corpora sunt, adspicio, &c.

De Vitabeata.

↵

*
Characteristicks III. 236. There is a great Fertility of Insinuations in that whole Chapter.
↵

*
V. 3, 4.
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*

〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉

↵

*
Characteristicks III. 236.
↵

†
Longinus not only instances Moses, but in a MS. in the Vatican he makes mention of Paul of Tarsus, as an Author of great Excellency.
↵

*

—Valeat res ludicra si me

Palma negata, macrûm, donata reducit opimum.

↵

†
Human Faculties, Art. V. towards the End.
↵

TWO DISCOURSES ON DECENCY.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

DISCOURSE II.

Plerique Homines quos cum nihil refert pudet,

Ubi pudendum est, ibi illos deserit Pudor.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Notes

*
Oportere enim perfectionem declarat Officii quo & semper utendum est, & omnibus. Decere, quasi aptum esse consentaneumque tempori & personae: quod cum in factis saepissime, tum in dictis valet, in vultu denique & gestu, & incessu, con¦traque autem dedecere.

De Oratore.

↵

*
Jam. ii. 1.
↵

†
1 Pet. ii. 17.
↵

*
Rochefoucault.
↵

*
Seneca.
↵

*
St. James.
↵

AN ESSAY ON SELF-LOVE.
AN ESSAY ON SELF-LOVE.

‘Modus ergo diligendi praecipiendus est homini; id est, Qu•••… se diligat, aut prosit sibi: quin autem se diligat, aut 〈…〉 sibi, dubitare, dementis est.’

INTRODUCTION.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—Video meliora, &c.

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

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

SECT. VII. NATURAL LOVE considered under different Denominations.

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

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

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

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

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

Unde feritur eò tendit—

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

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

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

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

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

SECT. VIII. Of other Engagements of the AFFECTION.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

SECT. X. Some Acceptations of CONSCIENCE.

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

—& Mens sibi conscia recti.

VIRG.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

SECT. XI. The REALITY of VIRTUE.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Virtutem videant, intabescantque relictâ.

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

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

SECT. XII. RELIGION.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

SECT. XIV. The LOVE of the CREATURES.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

SECT. XV. The LOVE of GOD.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

ADDITIONS.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Pleasure.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Happiness.

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

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

Interest.

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

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

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

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

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

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

No. II. Description of SELF-LOVE.

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

No. III. VICE, SIN, EVIL.

VICE implies both Defect and Corruption.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Evil.

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

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

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

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

Lett. 4.

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

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

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

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

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

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

1 Cor. xiii.

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

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

Lett. 5

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

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

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

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

No. V. RELIGION, CHARITY.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Charity.

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

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

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

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

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

No. VI. [*]VIRTUE, JUSTICE, DISINTERESTEDNESS.

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

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

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

WHEN some Persons talk of the Deceitfulness of Virtue, they do not mean that the Rule is fallacious or uncertain, but that Men act not from the Motives they pretend to. The Duke of Rochefoucault says,

Max. 207.

"What the World calls Virtue, is commonly but a Phantom form'd by our Passions."

THIS is far from denying there is such a thing as Virtue: on the contrary, that same Author says,

Max. 263.

"Hypocrisy is an Homage which Vice renders to Virtue."

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

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

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

Justice.

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

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

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

Disinterestedness.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Mr. Kennet's Translation.

No. VIII.

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

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

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

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

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

BUT it does not infer, that they thought Interest the chief Principle that should determine Men, because they pointed out where the true Interest lies; no more than the Scriptures can be brought to support that Principle, because in teaching Men the way to Happiness, they sometimes make use of Arguments from Hope and Fear.

IN the same manner, some great Men among the Heathens have condescended to the Weakness of those they were endeavouring to instruct. They knew that Virtue is not perfect, nor such at it ought to be, while Interest is the Motive; and they themselves could be virtuous without regard to it: but they knew likewise the Disorders of Human Nature, and that Profit was the chief Bait; and have therefore taken pains to shew that Virtue and Profit are inseparable. But if we would judge of the Purity of their Sentiments, it must be from the Places where the Dispositions of their own Hearts are mark'd. The following Words of Epictetus may be considered, and they add a great Lustre to the Doctrine of the Stoicks.

"IS it thy Will that I continue in Life? I will continue in it, and in a free and generous manner, as it pleases thee; for thou hast created me of such a nature, that I cannot be constrained in what concerns me."

"BUT hast thou no more for me to do? Blessed be thy Name! It is for thee, and for thee alone, that I have liv'd unto this Hour; and now I go away, in obedience to thee."

"How would'st thou go thy ways? I go my ways as it pleases thee, as thy Servant, as having had the advantage of knowing what thou commandest, and what thou forbiddest."

"But what Station dost thou appoint me, while I live and converse among thy Works? A Prince, or a private Person? A Senator, or one of the common People? A Soldier, Captain, School-Master, or Father of a Family? The Place and the Station which thou hast assign'd to me, I will maintain, and die a thousand Deaths rather than desert it. I go where thou wouldst have me; to Rome or Athens, to Thebes or to the Gyarae-Islands; I go willingly. Only be thou there mindful of me. If thou sendest me where Men cannot naturally live, I will not leave it contrary to thy Will: I will wait till thou commandest me to retire: I will not forsake thee; I will think thou hast no more occasion for my Service." Arrian, Book III. Chap. XXIV.

ONE might easily heap up Quotations of the same kind from this and other Authors, but it would be to no purpose: for allowing Defects in the Heathen Philosophy, the Christian Doctrine is still out of the reach of Censure, and Disinterestedness is one of its distinguishing Characters.

No. X. TRUTH.

TRUTH is of the same import or signification with Reality: so that to know the Truth, is to know the Value of Things.

TRUTH (says Sir Francis Bacon) is a naked and open Day-light, that does not shew the Masks, and Mummeries, and Triumphs of this World half so stately and daintily as Cande-lights. Essays. I.[*]

THE Love of Truth (considered morally) is the same with the Love of Justice. Thus the Apostle says, Charity rejoiceth not in Iniquity, but rejoiceth in the Truth.

ALL Truths are equal as to their Reality, but very unequal as to their Importance: and the Knowledge of the highest Truths, if it goes no farther than bare Speculation, is but Amusement.

THE opposite things to Truth and Reality are Falshood, Error, Lyes, Delusion; and the Mind takes pleasure in the one side or the other, according to the Disposition it is in.

THE greatest Breach of Truth, or the worst kind of Lying, consists in the Intention to deceive or injure. A Lye that has no End to serve, is not very conceivable; but there are Ends which must be own'd to be very frivolous.

MAN'S Love of Truth, is an Argument of his Dignity.

HONOUR is properly a Regard for Truth. False Honour is a sort of Contradiction, or at best 'tis but a Regard for Punctilio's. But even this common Honour of the World is a considerable Guard against several kinds of Prostitution and Falshood.

No. XI. Why the Words (HEB. XII.) are suppos'd to mean instead of the Joy set before him, &c. rather than because of the Joy, &c.

PASSING by all the Arguments that might be brought to prove the Sufferings of JESUS CHRIST to have been the Effect of his Pity to Mankind, and not for any Advantage to himself, or the Prospect of Interest; such Arguments seeming derogatory, as well as superfluous, from the Instances of Moses and St. Paul, who went such lengths for their Brethren as cannot naturally be resolv'd into Self-Interest, however People may differ as to the meaning of these Expressions, Blotted out of the Book of Life, and the like: I say, waving all these Arguments, I shall confine myself to the words themselves, as they stand with relation to other words not far from them; the Text being still best explain'd by the Context.

I shall not insist neither on the common Acceptation of the Preposition 〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉, since if at any time it be found in a different meaning, it may be contended to have that meaning here. However, Castellio's Translation runs pro laetitia sibi proposita; Beza has it pro sibi proposito gaudio; and the vulgar Latin, suppressing the Preposition entirely, renders it proposito sibi gaudio: but perhaps the word proposito has been design'd to be divided, and the Preposition to stand. Beza's Note or Paraphrase on the Margin is still more remarkable: Qui quum omne genus Beatitatis in manu ac potestate haberet, tamen ultro ignominiam Crucis subiit. Which is also to be sound in English on the Margin of our Bibles.

BUT let us look at the end of the first Verse of that Chapter, and we shall find the same words repeated in the second; and consequently they are to have the same Interpretation, in order to make out the Parallel or Comparison, by which the Apostle exhorts Christians to run the Race, or undergo the Conflict, appointed or set before them, as our Saviour endured the Cross instead of the Joy that was appointed or set before him. The same words set before appear in both Verses, and it is just so in the [*] Greek: which shews that the Joy set before our Saviour was not a thing at a distance, or proposed to him as the Condition of his enduring the Cross; but that he chose to bear the Suffering when he was already secure of the Joy, or had it before him. His Example is indeed recommended to us, that we may not be wearied; and his Recompence is also represented to us (in his sitting at the right hand of God) as a Motive to make us run that Race without fainting: but there can be no Inference that he needed such a Motive; and here the Comparison fails between him and Mortals, the Joy having been still in his power.

WE see also a Choice made by Moses, in the former Chapter, rather to suffer Affliction with the People of God, than to enjoy the Pleasures of Sin for a season. We must suppose a Difference in the Pleasures set before Moses and JESUS CHRIST: it was but the Pleasures of Egypt that were proposed to Moses, and these he rejected. The Joy proposed to JESUS CHRIST, or set before him, was at a distance from Moses; and we are only told he had an Eye to it, as the Reward of his Choice.

IT is observable, that JESUS CHRIST is not included by St. Paul in that Cloud of Witnesses, as being in a superior order. He is the Author and Finisher of our Faith, and sat down at the right hand of God, as taking possession himself of his recompence, or reassuming what he had left for a while, and what he always might have kept.

I need not run thro' all the Parallel between our Saviour and Moses: it will easily appear wherein it agrees and wherein it differs, as all Comparisons do differ in something. It is not indeed in that Instance of Moses's rejecting the Pleasures of Egypt, that we find such Proof of his Disinterestedness as of his Wisdom; tho' still there may be an Eye to a Recompence consistent with the Love of Justice: and this Prospect and Love of Reward may be so far from excluding the Love of Justice, that upon occasions all views of Interest may be extinguished in the same Person, and Justice remain the only Motive or Consideration: as in the instance of Moses's offering to suffer for his Brethren. Inferior Motives may certainly consist with superior ones, and the former may sometimes give way, as they always ought to do when Order requires it. 'Tis opposite things only (like Fire and Water) that cannot be united, or consist together; superior and inferior Motives are not opposite, but different.

BUT I will not trouble the Reader with any more reasoning upon that Point, having only design'd here a sort of Criticism upon a Text of Scripture, to support a Reading that all foreign Churches agree to; and it cannot be affirmed that our English Translators (tho' they have left it a little doubtful) have positively design'd that their Translation for the Joy should be understood to signify because of the Joy. We see in other places, that for very often signifies instead of, or in exchange; as they rewarded me Evil for Good, and the like. Nay, the Translation of Beza's [*]Note (on the Margin of our larger Bibles) is a fair presumption, that they have meant as he meant.

MILTON makes the Sense of that Particle very plain, when he regrets the loss of his Sight in such moving Terms:

But Cloud instead, and ever-during Dark

Surrounds me, from the chearful ways of Men

Cut off, and for the Book of Knowledge fair

Presented with an universal Blank.

No. XII.

AMOR (ex quo Amicitia nominata) princeps est ad Benevolentiam conjungendam: nam Utilitates quidem etiam ab iis percipiuntur saepe, qui simulatione Amicitiae coluntur, & observantur temporis causâ. In Amicitia autem nihil fictum est, nihil simulatum; & quicquid in Amicitia est, id verum est & voluntarium. . . . Quapropter a Naturâ mihi videtur potius quam ab indigentiâ orta Amicitia, applicatione magis animi cum quodam sensu amandi, quam cogitatione quantum illa res utilitatis esset habitura. . . . . . Non igitur utilitatem Amicitia, sed utilitas Amicitiam consecuta est. . . . . Sed plerique Amicos tanquam pecudes, eos potissimum diligunt ex quibus sperant se maximum fructum esse capturos. Itaque pulcherrimâ illâ & maxime naturali carent Amicitiâ per se & propter se expetenda. Nec ipsi sibi exemplo sunt, haec vis Amicitiae qualis & quanta sit. Ipse enim se quisque diligit, non ut aliter a seipso mercedem exigat charitatis suae, sed quod per se sibi quisque charus est; quod nisi idem in Amicitiam transferatur, verus Amicus nunquam reperietur. Est enim is Amicus quidem, qui est tanquam alter idem. . . . . . Amare enim nihil aliud est nisi eum ipsum diligere quem ames, nullâ indigentiâ, nullâ utilitate quaesitâ. Cic. de Amicitiâ passim.

No. XIII.

WITH submission to the Duke of Rochefoucault, I'm unwilling to call by the name of Self-Love all the Irregularities of Human Nature: neither the Violence of our Passions, nor the Foolishness of our Imaginations are Self-Love. We feel and imagine, and we cannot help it: Our Senses are all passive, and our Imagination is often crouded with things we would gladly be rid of. Our Understanding is in a manner passive too, as it sees by Intuition, like the bodily Eye; its Activity consisting only in comparing things together, in adding, substracting, weighing, measuring, and the like, all which are of the Province of Reason; and thus Reason may be call'd both active and passive; passive, as it perceives the Connections and Proportions of things; and active, as it examines and lays things in order. But neither wrong Reasoning nor right Reasoning is Self-Love; nor can the Disorders of any Faculty be imputed to the Faculty itself. Reason is sure within its own Sphere, but is bewilder'd and lost when it pretends to go father: And Self-Love is lawful within due Allowances, but unlawful when it violates Order.

To know this Order, and what we are design'd for, has been much at heart with some good Heathens.

Quid sumus, & quidnam victuri gignimur, Ordo

Quis datus—

They were faithful to their Light: what a Change would Revelation have made in their Doctrine! How differently would the good Antoninus have writ, had he heard of the Fall of Adam, and of the present Corruption of Nature! One Sett of the Deists borrow most of their Scheme from him. . . .

THE Violation of Order would never happen in a sound Mind without some wrong Biass towards Self. . .The Heart seems to be first corrupted. . . . . . So that Interestedness may be call'd the Source of Disorder. . . . . . Nor is Self-Love and Interestedness properly the same. . . . . . Much less is it true that has been affirm'd by some Persons, "That all Love must be interested, not excepting the Love of God to his Creatures." 'Tis but very few that are of this Opinion, and the ancient Persians had a quite different Notion of God, when they said, He is the Author of all Good, and intirely disinterested.

DISINTERESTEDNESS may be considered as the Foundation of that active Principle call'd Charity. All Love (strictly speaking) is disinterested; the Love we bear to ourselves is certainly so, as Cicero observed, and ought to be the measure of our Love towards our Neighbour. The Love of God is a higher Attainment.

THERE was one thing that gave a great Discouragement from this poor Undertaking, viz. That what is said on the Love of God will be very insipid to those, who have felt ever so little of the thing, or are acquainted with such Authors as have wrote of it from their own Experience. But I have told all my Design in the Introduction. . . . . .

THO' the Enemies of Christianity have taken advantage of some Expressions of the Clergy in favour of Self-Love, and the Sufficiency of Reason; yet neither of these Doctrines is espous'd by any Party in the gross, but rather rejected by the greatest number of all Parties; Papists, Protestants, and all the Branches of these last. "Be on your guard (says Dr. Evans) against Selfishness, or such an Addictedness to yourselves, as shall confine your Regards within the narrow Circle of Self. Such a Self-Love is the main Principle of all the Evils and Disorders in the World; it makes Men undutiful to God, and useless if not pernicious to those about them." And how finely has Mr. Butler of the Rolls Chapel express'd himself against Self-Love in his Sermons! Evans says also of the Love of God, "That it is indeed the first and great Commandment: it is first in order of Nature, and in the Preeminence of the Object to which it relates, &c."

AMONG the Writers of the Church of Rome the Expressions are no less remarkable both against Self-Love, and for the pure Love of God. Citations might be produc'd in great plenty from Writers in all Ages. Those who wrote the earliest, gave their Testimony to pure Love, and no doubt had insisted more upon it, but that the Doctrine of Self-Love had not then set up its Horns. These Words of [*]St. Augustin can hardly be forgot, "Habent aliam causam boniquare temporalibus affligantur malis, qualem habuit Job: ut sibi-ipsi humanus animus sit probatus & cognitus, quanta virtute pietatis gratis Deum diligat." As to Job, a Question was indeed put by the Devil, Does Job serve God for nought? But the following part of the History sufficiently shew'd Job's Disinterestedness as well as his Patience.

. . . . No body can deny that the Scripture insists upon Rewards and Punishments, as Arguments drawn from our own Interest: but Interest ought not to justle out Duty, Justice, and Order; nor even to be preferr'd to these. Henry More had reason to mention that Maxim of Aristotle, odd as it looks, propter quod unumquodque est tale, &c. for 'tis certain, that whatever is regarded chiefly for the sake of another thing, is the least regarded of the two. But 'tis carefully to be remember'd, that the Scripture is accommodated to the State of Mortals, and speaks to the stronger and the weaker, to those of better Dispositions, and those of worse; yet Jesus Christ says to all, Be ye perfect, &c. We must observe farther, that the Promises annex'd to our Duty are not given barely as an Incitement to it, but also to shew the Dispositions we must be in, before we can attain to the Happiness design'd for us; as for instance, before we can see God we must be pure in Heart.

A modern Logician, Mons. Crousaz, says very well upon the different Dispositions of People with respect to Virtue; 'tis to this purpose: "The bare Knowledge of Virtue determines one Person to cleave to it; another needs the Majesty of a Lawgiver to be added; a third has need of Promises; a fourth of Threats; and a fifth of Blows." Here is a Gradation of Virtue from the highest Form to the lowest: the lowest is very low, and the highest as high as Dr. More or the Bishop of Cambray wou'd demand. If Mons. Crousaz speaks sometimes favourably of Self-Love (I mean the interested Principle) the like has happen'd to very good Persons, even among the Clergy . . . . . . . which led me into that Criticism (No. XI.) and I'm not yet sure if it should stand: But it was owing to a Sermon of Bishop Bull, which every body may see in print. 'Tis uneasy to differ from a learned and good Man. But what shall one do when a greater number of learned and good Men are on the other side of the Question? Here is another Bishop of the same Church, Bishop Lake, he says in his Sermon on Math. xxii. 27. "If there be any thing that may be lov'd jointly with God, it must not share equally with God, but keep its distance, and receive our Love by a Reflection from God. . . . . . Thus if we love God. . . . . . . . . we love him above all things, and we love him for himself; for that must needs follow, when we love him for no other thing, no not for our own selves, but are willing to hazard all, even ourselves and all, for the Love of him." How far is Disinterestedness carry'd in that Prayer of [*]Sir Thomas More's! . . . . . . I have often wonder'd how this Principle should give such Alarm, as if the Quiet of the World was in danger from it. In the first place, it is not likely to be much practised, and then it can never be so interpreted, as if People were forbid to take due care of themselves; for if a Man did not so, he would be ill taken care of, as the World is. But in dealing with the World and Almighty God, the Rules are widely different: with him there is no use for Caution and Reserve, but the more unlimited the Trust and Dependance, so much the greater the Safety and Happiness. How agreeable is it to reflect on the Constitution of Things, and to find Happiness result from the Observance of Order and Duty!

How Disorder first enter'd into the World, is like to remain a Secret to Mankind, and it seems to be of little use to go into Metaphysical Inquiries about it; since whatever way the Question were resolved, it would make no alteration either in our Duty, or in the Nature of Things: Disinterestedness will always be our Dury, and our Duty will always be our Interest. But the Ideas of these two are different, however they may coincide in the Event; and in all Duties the Value will ever be measur'd by the Motive.

IN this Point even Christians and Deists seem to be agreed, for Disinterestedness is a common Principle between them. And when any Christians set up for Interestedness, the Deists make a handle of it to disparage Christianity: Again, when Christians set up for the Sufficiency of Reason, the Deists are fond of their Expressions, and quote them to prove Christianity an useless thing. . . . . . One great Difference between Christianity and Deism is this, Christianity represents human Nature in a state of Disorder, the Understanding limited and confus'd, the Passions tumultuous, and the Heart corrupted; and consequently a necessity of superior Assistance. Deism gives a quite different Representation, as if every thing in Man was intire, and nothing so easy as the balancing of the Passions, and all the rest. The difference between Christianity and Deism in the point of Self-Denial follows of course: Christians at least profess it. And if the Deists alledge they are not in earnest, and believe less than they pretend to; it can never come to a Demonstration, and the Christians may alledge, that the Deists believe more than they own, the external and rational Evidences for Christianity being so strong. . . . . . . . Nor is Christianity a Doctrine of Vexation and Sorrow: it only sets things before us as they are; that we may not be deceiv'd with false Appearances. What Situation of Fortune can be sufficient to transport any Person, that reflects on the Present State of the World, and the Variety of Evils, both natural and moral? . . . . . . . . The World is felt to be what it is. Philosophy is for the most part but Grimace.

BUT it is not so much the Insufficiency of things, as the Injustice of Self-Love, that I had a mind to represent; that Principle by which a Man would make himself the Center of the Universe! And I hope it will not be reckon'd too presumptuous, if I endeavour this once to state the Question concerning Self-Love and the Love of God in such a way, that all Christians may (if possible) agree in it.

THE Question here is not whether we are to love God, or whether it be our Interest to love him, or whether it be the Will and the Glory of God, that he should be lov'd by all intelligent Creatures, (for in these things all Christians are agreed;) but the Question is, whether we are to love him from the Motive of his Perfection, or from that of our own Indigence; whether we are to love him for the sake of our own personal Advantage. bee use we cannot be happy without him, or because he is indeed the most amiable Object, without considering our own Advantage whether we are to love him, because it is just and right in itself, or because our own Hopes and Fears determine us? If it be said, we ought to love him both because it is just in itself, and also because it is our Interest; it may be answer'd, that as these Motives are not to be equal, (otherwise we should love God and ourselves equally) the Question comes to be, whether Interest shall give place to Justice, or Justice give place to Interest? For however both these Motives may subsist together at first, yet the lesser Motive will and ought to be swallow'd up by the greater. Now if we will but consider as carefully the Justice there is in loving God, as the particular Profit that shall accrue to us by it, we shall at last be so penetrated with the Sense of the Justice of the thing, as to reflect no more on our Profit; or if we do, we shall find that tho' Profit accompanies our Love, yet it is no longer worthy to be the Motive of it; and that as the least By-view to Interest renders Love less perfect, so it is only that Love, which is without any such View, that is absolutely pure and perfect: because in that Love, the Lover, forgetting himself, wholly rejoices only in the Beloved. And this (however some have call'd it a Refinement) is no more than what the Nature of the thing requires, and what Cicero has even required in Friendship.

AGAIN, if we still love ourselves with a distinct Love, independent on that of God, how shall we ever get so far out of the selfish State, as to love God with all our Heart and all our Strength? And yet this great Duty is acknowledged by all Christians, and the Practice of it in the full and literal Meaning of the Words is the highest Perfection: for the End of the Commandment is Charity, and Love is the fulfilling of the Law. Whatever inferiour Motives therefore our Imperfections, may stand in need of in the beginning, yet they must at last give way to a more perfect Principle: so that if any shall take upon them to condemn the pure disinterested Love of God, I see not how they can reconcile this with their own Acknowledgement, that He is to be loved with all our Heart.

Notes

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〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉
2 Tim. iii. 2.

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†
Lib. x. cap. 39.
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*
See the Additions, No II.
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*
Additions, No I.
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*
Isaiah lvii. 20.
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*
Sect. XXX.
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*
No III.
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*

Quidve ad Amicitias, Usus, Rectumne, trabat nos.

After this Essay was written, (and 'tis now some Years) I had the satisfaction to find the same Passage cited by the Bishop of Cambray, and also some of Cl••… 's Expressions to support the Doctrine of disinteressed Love. He makes use of more Testimonies from the Heathens: for Truth is al¦ways Truth. The Reader may see the
〈◊〉
Volume of his spiritual Works: Discourse XLI.

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†
Butler.
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‖
No III.
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*
Nemo gratuito malus est.
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*
Sect. XXIX.
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†
Sect. IX.
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*
Lib. II Cap. XXII.
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*
Liberis consultum volumus, etiamsi posthumi futuri sunt, propter ipsos.

De sinibus.

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*

Dilexi tum te, non tantum ut Vulgus Amicam,

Sed Pater ut Gnatos diligit & Generos.

Ad Lesbiam.

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*
No. XII.
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*
Doctrina sed Vim promovet insitam, &c.
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†
Leviath. Chap. XI.
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*
Rom. ii.
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*
Mr. Locke gives that Definition in his Essay on Human Understanding: and arguing against innate Principles, he says,
"If Conscience be a Proof of innate Principles, Contraries may be innate Principles; since some Men with the same Bent of Conscience prosecute what others avoid."
But this Argument wou'd seem to strike most against Virtue, as it seems to take away the Difference of Right and Wrong, or to render every thing so arbitrary and uncertain, that an Appeal could not be made to the common Sense of Mankind in no Case whatsoever. But Mr. Locke cannot be suspected to have had so bad an Intention: the Regard he express'd for the Christian Religion, as well as moral Virtue, is sufficient to clear him from such an Imputation. 'Tis remarkable too, that some profest Deists not only set up for the moral Sense, but also acknowledge the innate Principles, which they call (after Epictetus) Anticipations, or previous Notices of the Mind.

↵

*
Contemplat. Part III. from pag. 154 to 198.
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*
No VI.
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*
Nunquam aliud Natura, aliud Sapientia aixit.

Juv. N V.

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*
Religion of Nature.
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*
No. V.
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*
Sect. iii, &c.
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†
Rom. viii.
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*
Wisd. i. 15.
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†
Psal. xix.
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*
No. IV.
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*
Free-Thinker. No. ccxvi.
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*
—fecisti nos ad te, & inquietum est Cor nostrum donec requiescat in te.

Confess. Lib. I. Cap. 1.

↵

†
No. VII.
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*

Nec furtum feci, nec fugi, si mihi dicat

Servus; habes pretium, loris non ureris aio.

Non hominem occidi: non pasces in cruce corvos.

Sum bonus & frugi: renuit negat atque Sabellus.

Cautus enim metuit foveam lupus, accipiterque

Suspectos laqueos, & opertum milvius humum.

Oderunt peccare boni virtutis amore.

↵

†
Justitia nihil expetit pretii, nihil praemii: per se igitur expetitur.

De Legibus.

↵

*
Modern Projectors, I know, would willingly rid their hands of these natural Materials, and would fain build after a more uniform way. They would new frame the human Heart; and have a mighty fancy to reduce all its Motions, Ballances, and Weights, to that one Principle and Foundation of a cool and deliberate Selfishness. Men, it seems, are unwilling to think they can be so outwitted, and impos'd on by Nature, as to be made to serve her Purposes, rather than their own. They are asham'd to be drawn thus out of themselves, and forc'd from what they esteem their true Interest.
↵

*
Prov. xvi. 4.
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†
Revel. iv.
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*
1 John iv.
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†
1 Cor. xiii.
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*
No. VIII,
↵

*
The Reader may see the Preface to a little Collection of Thoughts sometimes join'd with the Duke of Rochefoucault's, and the three first Maxims themselves, which serve pretty well for settling the Ideas and Limits of Self-Love and Virtue.
↵

*
See No. IX.
↵

*
Here is a piece of barbarous-like Philosophy very well apply'd.
↵

*
See No. X.
↵

*
Quod si Virtus ad beatam vitam nos ducit, nihil omnino esse Virtutem affirmaverim nisi summum amorem Dei. Namque illud quod quadripartita dicitur Virtus, ex ipsius amoris vario quodam affectu, quantum intelligo, dicitur. Itaque illas qua •••… virtures, quarum utinam ita sit in mentibus vis, ut nomina in ore sunt omnium, sic etiam definire non dubitem: ut Temperantiam dicamus esse Amorem, Deo sese integrum incorruptumque servantem: Fortitudinem Amorem omnia propter Deum facilc perferentem: Justitiom Amorem Dco tantum servientem, & ab hoc bene imperantem caeteris quae homini subjecta sunt: Prudentiam amorem bene discernentem ca quibus adjuvetur in Deum ab iis quibus impediri potest.

De moribus Eccl. Cath. L. 1. Cap. 15.

↵

*
By Recreation Mr. Pascal means not only Men's Diversions (and some harmless ones cannot be condemn'd) but the serious Business of their Lives, as will appear by the Strain of the whole Section. And that serious Business St. Augustin puts upon a level with the Plays of Children.
Majorum Nugae Negotia vocantur.

↵

*
The same Thought is very well express'd in another way by a later Author. . . . . . .How fading and insipid do all Objects accost us, that are not convey'd in the Vehicle of Delusion! How shrunk is every thing, as it appears in the Glass of Nature! so that if it were not for the assistance of artificial Mediums, false Lights, refracted Angles, Varnish and Tinsel; there would be a mighty level in the Felicity and Enjoyment of mortal Men. Tale of a Tub.
↵

*

〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉

〈 in non-Latin alphabet 〉

↵

*

Qui quum, &c. Whereas he had all kind of Blessedness in his hand or power, yet suffered willingly the Ignominy of the Cross.

This Note is much supported by a remarkable Text, Phil. ii. 5 . . . . . 8.

↵

*
There is another Reason why good Men are afflicted with temporal Evils, as in the Case of Job, that the Mind may be put to a Tryal, and discover the Force of its own Piety, or how much it loves God for nothing.
↵

*

Give me, O Lord, a lively Faith, a firm Hope, and a lively Charity; a Love of Thee incomparably above the Love of myself, that I may love nothing to thy Displeasure, but every thing in order to thy Satisfaction.

Give me, O Lord, a Longing to be with Thee, not for avoiding the Calamities of this wretched World, nor so much for escaping the Pains of Purgatory, or those of Hell, nor for attaining the Joys of Heaven with respect to my own Advantage, as purely for the Love of Thee.

↵

Books printed for J. Osborn and T. Longman.

- I. INtroduction to Natural Philosophy: or, Philosophical Lectures read in the University of Oxford, Anno Dom. 1700. To which are added, the Demonstrations of Monsieur Huygens's Theorems, concerning the Centrifugal Force and Circular Motion. By John Keil, M. D. Savilian Professor of Astronomy, F. R. S. Translated from the last Edition of the Latin, 8vo. 2d Edit.

- II. The Religious Philosopher: Or, the right Use of Contemplating the Works of the Creator, 1. In the wonderful Structure of Animal Bodies, and in particular Man. 2. In the no less wonderful and wise Formation of the Elements. 3. In the most amazing Structure of the Heavens, with all its Furniture. Designed for the Conviction of Atheists and Infidels; throughout which, all the late Discoveries in Anatomy, Philosophy, and Astronomy, together with the various Experiments made use of to Illustrate the same, are most copiously handled, by that learned Mathematician Dr. Nieuwenlytt. Translated from the Low-Dutch. To which is prefix'd a Letter to the Translator, by Dr. Desaguliers. The Third Edition, adorned with Cuts, in Two Volumes, 4to.

- III. An Analytick Treatise of Conick Sections, and their Use for resolving of Equations in determinate Problems; being the Posthumous Works of the Marquis de L' Hospital, Honorary Fellow of the Academy Royal of Sciences. Made English by E. Stone, F. R. S. 4to.

- IV. Mathematical Elements of Natural Philosophy, confirmed by Experiments: Or, an Introduction to Sir Isaac Newton's Philosophy. Written in Latin by William James's Gravesande, Doctor of Laws, and Philosophy, Professor of Mathematicks, and Astronomy, at Leyden. Translated into English by Dr. Desaguliers, in Two Volumes, 8vo. The 2d Edit. corrected.

- V. A New Method of Chemistry; including the Theory and Practice of that Art: Laid down on Mechanical Principles, and accommodated to the Uses of Life. The whole making a Clear and Rational System of Chemical Philosophy. To which is prefixed a Critical History of Chemistry and Chemists, from the Origin of the Art to the present Time. Done from the Original of the very learned H. Boerhaave, Professor of Chemistry, Botany, and Medicine, in the University of Leyden, and Member of the Royal Academy of Sciences at Paris. With additional Notes and Sculptures. By P. Shaw, M. D. and E. Chambers, Gent. 4to.

- VI. Medical Essays and Observations, revised and published by a Society in Edinburgh, containing an Account of the State of the Air and Epidemical Diseases, Tracts on Drugs, Chemistry, Anatomy, Animal Oeconomy, Theory and Practice of Surgery and Medicine, with the New Improvements made, and Books published any where else on all the Parts of Physick.

- VII. The Anatomy of the Human Bones; to which are added, an Anatomical Treatise of the Nerves; An Account of the reciprocal Motions of the Heart, and a Description of the Human Lacteal Sac and Duct; by Alexander Monro, Professor of Anatomy in the University of Edinburgh, F. R. S. The Second Edition corrected and enlarged.

- VIII. Pharmacopoeia Officinalis & Extemporanea; or, a complete English Dispensatory, in Four Parts. Containing, I. The Theory of Pharmacy, and the several Processes therein. II. A Description of the Officinal Simples, with their Virtues and Preparations, Galenical and Chemical. III. The Officinal Compositions, according to the last Alterations of the College: Together with some others of uncommon Efficacy, taken from the most celebrated Authors. IV. Extemporaneous Prescriptions, distributed into Classes suitable to their Intentions in Cure. To which is added, An Account of the Common Adulterations both of Simples and Compounds; with some Marks to detect them by. By John Quincy, M. D. The Ninth Edition, much enlarged and corrected.
N. B. In this Ninth Edition, the Part relating to the Simples is improved; the Officinal Part is compared anew with the London Dispensatory; and somewhat enlarged: and to prevent Mistakes, the Physicians Marks of Quantities, are changed for Words at length. Many considerable Passages are added, from the Author's other Works; some other Additions are occasionally made; all which are distinguished by an Italick Letter; and the whole Work is carefully corrected.

- IX. A New Practice of Physick; wherein the various Diseases incident to the Human Body are orderly described, their Causes assign'd, their Diagnostics and Prognostics enumerated, and the Regimen proper in each delivered; with a competent Number of Medicines for every Stage and Symptom thereof, prescribed after the Manner of the most eminent Physicians among the Moderns, and particularly those of London. The whole formed on the Model of Dr. Sydenham, and compleating the Design of his Processus Integri. In Two Volumes. By Peter Shaw, M. D. 8vo. 2d Edit.

- X. Sir Isaac Newton's Mathematical Philosophy, more easily demonstrated; with Dr. Halley's Account of Comets, Illustrated. Being Forty Lectures read in the publick Schools at Cambridge. By W. Whiston, M. A. for the use of the young Students there. The Third Edition, 8vo.

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Essays moral and philosophical, on several subjects: viz. A view of the human faculties. ... An essay on self-love.

Forbes of Pitsligo, Alexander Forbes, Lord, 1678-1762.

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1106019075

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9781106019073

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— Essays moral and philosophical, on several subjects: viz. A view of the human faculties. ... An essay on self-love., Forbes of Pitsligo, Alexander Forbes, Lord, 1678-1762.. xii,385,[3]p. ; 8⁰. London :: printed for J. Osborn and T. Longman,. 1734.. [Anonymous. By Alexander Forbes, Baron Pitsligo.] [With three final pages of advertisements.] [Reproduction of original from the British Library.] [English Short Title Catalog, ESTCT108054.] [Electronic data. Farmington Hills, Mich. : Thomson Gale, 2003. Page image (PNG). Digitized image of the microfilm version produced in Woodbridge, CT by Research Publications, 1982-2002 (later known as Primary Source Microfilm, an imprint of the Gale Group).]

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