THE FABLE OF THE BEES

(M.) And odious Pride a Million more.

PAGE 68. LINE 25. Pride is that Natural Faculty by which every Mortal that has any Understanding over values, and imagines better things of himself than any impartial Judge, thoroughly acquainted with all his Qualities and Circumstances could allow him. We are possess’d of no other Quality so beneficial to Society, and so necessary to render it wealthy and flourishing as this, yet it is that which is most generally detested. What is very peculiar to this faculty of ours, is, that those who are the fullest of it are the least willing to connive at it in others; whereas the heineousness of other Vices is the most extenuated by those who are guilty of ’em themselves. The Chaste Man hates Fornication, and Drunkenness is most abhorr’d by the Temperate; but none are so much offended at their Neighbour’s Pride, as the proudest of all, and if any one can pardon it, it is the most humble: From which I think we may justly infer, that its being odious to all the World is a certain sign that all the World is troubled with it. This all Men of Sense are ready to confess, and no body denies but that he has Pride in general. But if you come to Particulars, you’ll meet with few that will own any Action you can name of theirs to have proceeded from that Principle. There are likewise many who will allow that among the sinful Nations of the Times, Pride and Luxury, are the great Promoters of Trade, but they refuse to own the necessity there is, that in a more Virtuous Age, (such a one as should be free from Pride) Trade would in a great measure decay.

The Almighty, say they, has endow’d us with the Dominion over all Things which the Earth and Sea produce or contain; there is nothing to be found in either, but what was made for the use of Man; and his Skill and Industry above other Animals were given him, that he might render both them and every thing else within the reach of his Senses, more serviceable to him. Upon this Consideration they think it impious to imagine, that Humility, Temperance, and other Virtues, should debar People from the Enjoyment of those Comforts of Life, which are not denied to the most wicked Nations; and so conclude, that without Pride or Luxury, the same things might be eat, wore, and consumed, the same number of Handicrafts and Artificers employ’d, and a Nation be every way as flourishing as where those Vices are the most predominant.

As to wearing Apparel in particular, they’ll tell you, that Pride, which sticks much nearer to us than our Cloaths, is only lodg’d in the Heart, and that Rags often conceal a greater Portion of it than the most pompous Attire; and that as it cannot be denied but that there have always been Virtuous Princes, who with humble Hearts have wore their splendid Diadems and sway’d their envied Scepters, void of Ambition for the good of others; so it is very probable, that Silver and Gold Brocades, and the richest Embroideries, may, without a thought of Pride, be wore by many whose Quality and Fortune are suitable to them. May not (say they) a good Man of extraordinary Revenues, make every Year a greater variety of Suits than it is possible he should wear out, and yet have no other Ends than to set the Poor at work to encourage Trade, and by employing many to promote the Welfare of his Country? And considering Food and Rayment to be Necessaries, and the two chief Articles to which all our worldly Cares are extended, why may not all Mankind set aside a considerable Part of their Income for the one as well as the other, without the least Tincture of Pride? Nay, is not every Member of the Society in a manner obliged, according to his Ability, to contribute toward the Maintenance of that Branch of Trade on which the whole has so great a dependance? Besides that, to appear decently is a Civility, and often a Duty, which, without any Regard to our selves, we owe to those we converse with.

These are the Objections generally made use of by haughty Moralists, who cannot endure to hear the Dignity of their Species arrain’d; but if we look narrowly into them they may soon be answer’d.

If we had no Vices, I cannot see why any Man should ever make more Suits than he has occasion for, tho’ he were never so desirous of promoting the good of the Nation: For tho’ in the wearing of a well wrought Silk, rather than a slight Stuff, and the preferring curious fine Cloth to course, he had no other view but the setting of more People to work, and consequently, the Publick Welfare, yet he could consider Cloaths no otherwise than Lovers of their Country do Taxes now; they may pay ’em with Alacrity, but no body gives more than his due; especially where all are justly rated according to their Abilities, as it could no otherwise be expected in a very Virtuous Age. Besides that, in such Golden Times no body would dress above his Condition, no body pinch his Family, cheat or overreach his Neighbour to purchase Finery, and consequently there would not be half the Consumption, nor a third part of the People employ’d as now there are. But to make this more plain and demonstrate, that for the support of Trade there can be nothing equivalent to Pride, I shall examine the several views Men have in outward Apparel, and set forth what daily Experience may teach every body as to Dress.

Cloaths were originally made for two Ends, to hide our Nakedness, and to fence our Bodies against the Weather, and other outward Injuries: To these our boundless Pride has added a third, which is Ornament; for what else but an excess of stupid Vanity, could have prevail’d upon our Reason to fancy that Ornamental, which must continually put us in mind of our Wants and Misery, beyond all other Animals that are ready cloathed by Nature herself? It is indeed to be admired how so sensible a Creature as Man, that pretends to so many fine Qualities of his own, should condescend to value himself upon what is robb’d from so innocent and defenceless an Animal as a Sheep, or what he is beholden for to the most insignificant thing upon Earth, a dying Worm; yet whilst he is Proud of such trifling Depredations, he has the folly to laugh at the Hottentots on the furthest Promontory of Africk, who adorn themselves with the Guts of their dead Enemies, without considering that they are the Ensigns of their Valour those Barbarians are fine with, the true Spolia opima,²² and that if their Pride be more Savage than ours, it is certainly less ridiculous, because they wear the Spoils of the more noble Animal.

But whatever Reflections may be made on this head, the World has long since decided the Matter; handsome Apparel is a main Point, fine Feathers make fine Birds, and People where they are not known, are generally honour’d according to their Cloaths and other Accoutrements they have about them; from the richness of them we judge of their Wealth, and by their ordering of them we guess at their Understanding. It is this which encourages every body, who is conscious of his little Merit, if he is any ways able to wear Cloaths above his Rank, especially in large and Populous Cities, where obscure Men may hourly meet with fifty Strangers to one Acquaintance, and consequently have the Pleasure of being esteem’d by a vast Majority, not as what they are, but what they appear to be; which is a greater Temptation than most People want to be Vain.

Whoever takes delight in viewing the various Scenes of low Life, may on Easter, Whitsun, and other great Holy-days, meet with scores of People, especially Women, of almost the lowest Rank, that wear good and fashionable Cloaths. If coming to talk with them, you treat them more courteously and with greater Respect than what they are conscious they deserve, they’ll commonly be ashamed of owning what they are; and often you may, if you are a little Inquisitive, discover in them a most anxious Care to conceal the Business they follow, and the Places they live in. The Reason is plain; whilst they receive those Civilities that are not usually paid them, and which they think only due to their Betters, they have the Satisfaction to imagine, that they appear what they would be, which to weak Minds is a Pleasure almost as substantial as they could reap from the very Accomplishments of their Wishes: This Golden Dream they are unwilling to be disturbed in, and being sure that the meanness of their Condition, if it is known, must sink ’em very low in your Opinion, they hug themselves in their disguize, and take all imaginable Precaution not to forfeit by a useless discovery the Esteem which they flatter themselves that their good Cloaths have drawn from you.

Tho’ every body allows, that as to Apparel and manner of living, we ought to behave our selves suitable to our Conditions, and follow the Examples of the most sensible and prudent among our Equals in Rank and Fortune: Yet how few, that are not either miserably Covetous, or else Proud of singularity, have this Discretion to boast of? We all look above our selves, and, as fast as we can, strive to imitate those, that some way or other are superior to us.

The poorest Labourer’s Wife in the Parish, who scorns to wear a strong wholesome Frize, as she might, will half starve herself and her Husband to purchase a second hand Gown and Petticoat, that cannot do her half the Service, because, forsooth, it is more genteel. The Weaver, the Shoemaker, the Taylor, the Barber, and every mean working Fellow, that can set up with little, has the Impudence with the first Money he gets, to Dress himself like a Tradesman of Substance. The ordinary Retailer in the cloathing of his Wife, takes Pattern from his Neighbour, that deals in the same Commodity by Wholesale, and the Reason he gives for it, is, that Twelve Years ago the other had not a bigger Shop than himself. The Druggist, Mercer, Draper and other creditable Shopkeepers can find no difference between themselves and Merchants, and therefore dress and live like them. The Merchant’s Lady, who cannot bear the Assurance of those Mechanicks, flies for refuge to the other End of the Town, and scorns to follow any Fashion but what she takes from thence. This haughtiness alarms the Court, the Women of Quality are frighten’d to see Merchant’s Wives and Daughters dress’d like themselves; this Impudence of the City, they cry, is intollerable; Mantua-makers are sent for, and the contrivance of Fashions becomes all their Study, that they may have always new Modes ready to take up, as soon as those sawcy Cits shall begin to imitate those in being. The same Emulation is continued through the several degrees of Quality to an incredible Expence, till at last the Prince’s great Favourites and those of the first Rank of all, having nothing else left to outstrip some of their Inferiors, are forc’d to lay out vast Estates in pompous Equipages, magnificent Furniture, sumptuous Gardens and princely Palaces.

To this Emulation and continual striving to outdo one another, it is owing, that after so many various Shiftings and Changings of Modes, in trumping up new ones and renewing of old ones, there is still a plus ultra left for the Ingenious; it is this, or at least the consequence of it, that sets the Poor to Work, adds Spurs to Industry, and incourages the skilful Artificer to search after further Improvements.

It may be objected, that many People of good Fashion, who have been us’d to be well Dress’d, out of Custom wear rich Cloaths with all the indifferency imaginable, and that the benefit to Trade accruing from them cannot be ascrib’d to Emulation or Pride. To this I answer, that it is impossible, that those who trouble their Heads so little with their Dress, could ever have wore those rich Cloaths, if both the Stuffs and Fashions had not been first invented to gratify the Vanity of others, who took greater delight in fine Apparel, than they. Besides that every Body is not without Pride that appears to be so, all the symptoms of that Vice are not easily discover’d; they are manifold and vary according to the Age, Humour, Circumstances, and often Constitution, of the People.

The cholerick City Captain seems impatient to come to Action, and expressing his Warlike Genius by the firmness of his Steps, makes his Pike, for want of Enemies, tremble at the Valour of his Arm. His Martial Finery, as he Marches along, inspires him with an unusual Elevation of Mind, by which endeavouring to forget his Shop as well as himself, he looks up at the Balconies with the fierceness of a Sarazen Conqueror. Whilst the phlegmatick Alderman, now become venerable both for his Age and his Authority, contents himself with being thought a considerable Man; and knowing no easier way to express his Vanity, looks big in his Coach, where being known by his paultry Livery, he receives, in sullen State, the Homage that is paid him by the meaner sort of People.

The beardless Ensign counterfeits a Gravity above his Years, and with ridiculous Assurance strives to imitate the stern Countenance of his Collonel, flattering himself all the while, that by his daring Mien you’ll judge of his Prowess. The youthful Fair, in a vast concern of being overlook’d, by the continual changing of her Posture betrays a violent desire of being observ’d, and catching, as it were at every Body’s eyes, Courts, with obliging Looks, the admiration of her Beholders. The conceited Coxcomb, on the contrary, displaying an Air of Sufficiency, is wholly taken up with the Contemplation of his own Perfections, and in Publick Places discovers such a disregard to others, that the Ignorant must imagine, he thinks himself to be alone.

These and such like are all manifest tho’ different Tokens of Pride, that are obvious to all the World, but Man’s Vanity is not always so soon found out. When we perceive an Air of Humanity, and Men seem not to be employ’d in admiring themselves, nor altogether unmindful of others, we are apt to pronounce ’em void of Pride, when perhaps they are only fatigu’d with gratifying their Vanity, and become languid from a satiety of Enjoyments. That outward show of Peace within, and drowsy composure of careless Negligence, with which a Great Man is often seen in his plain Chariot to loll at ease, are not always so free from Art, as they may seem to be. Nothing is more ravishing to the Proud than to be thought happy.

The well bred Gentleman places his greatest Pride in the Skill he has of covering it with Dexterity, and some are so expert in concealing this Frailty, that when they are the most guilty of it, the Vulgar think them the most exempt from it. Thus the dissembling Courtier, when he appears in State, assumes an Air of Modesty and good Humour, and whilst he is ready to burst with Vanity, seems to be wholly ignorant of his Greatness, well knowing, that those lovely Qualities must heighten him in the Esteem of others, and be an addition to that Grandeur, which the Coronets about his Coach and Harnesses, with the rest of his Equipage, cannot fail to proclaim without his Assistance.

And as in these, Pride is overlook’d, because industriously conceal’d, so in others again it is denied that they have any, when they shew (or at least seem to shew) it in the most Publick manner. The wealthy Parson, being as well as the rest of his Profession, debar’d from the Gaiety of Laymen, makes it his business to look out for an admirable Black and the finest Cloath that Money can purchase, and distinguishes himself by the fulness of his noble and spotless Garment; his Wigs are as fashionable as that Form he is forced to comply with will admit of; but as he is only stinted in their shape, so he takes care that for goodness of Hair and Colour, few Noblemen shall be able to match ’em; his Body is ever clean, as well as his Cloaths, his sleek Face is kept constantly shav’d, and his handsome Nails are diligently pared, his smooth white Hand and a Brilliant of the first Water, mutually becoming, honour each other with double graces; what Linnen he discovers is transparently curious, and he scorns ever to be seen abroad with a worse Beaver than what a rich Banker would be proud of on his Wedding Day; to all these niceties in Dress he adds a Majestick Gate, and expresses a commanding loftiness in his Carriage; yet common Civility, notwithstanding the evidence of so many concurring Symptoms, won’t allow us to suspect any of his Actions to be the result of Pride; considering the Dignity of his Office, it is only Decency in him what would be Vanity in others; and in good Manners to his Calling we ought to believe, that the worthy Gentleman, without any regard to his reverend Person, puts himself to all this trouble and expence meerly out of a respect which is due to the Divine Order he belongs to, and a Religious Zeal to preserve his Holy Function from the Contempt of Scoffers. With all my Heart; nothing of all this shall be call’d Pride, let me only be allow’d to say, that to our Human Capacities it looks very like it.

But if at last I should grant, that there are Men who enjoy all the Fineries of Equipage and Furniture, as well as Cloaths, and yet have no Pride in them, it is certain, that if all should be such, that Emulation I spoke of before must cease, and consequently Trade, which has so great a dependance upon it, suffer in every branch. For to say, that if all Men were truly Vertuous, they might, without any regard to themselves, consume as much out of Zeal to serve their Neighbours and promote the Publick Good, as they do now out of Self love and Emulation, is a miserable shift and an unreasonable supposition. As there have been good People in all Ages, so, without doubt, we are not destitute of them in this; but let us enquire of the Perriwig makers and Taylors, in what Gentlemen, even of the greatest Wealth and highest Quality, they ever could discover such publick spirited Views. Ask the Lacemen, the Mercers and the Linnen drapers, whether the richest, and if you will, the most vertuous Ladies, if they buy with ready Money, or intend to pay in any reasonable time, will not drive from Shop to Shop to try the Market, make as many Words, and stand as hard with them to save a Groat or Six Pence in a Yard, as the most necessitous Jilts in Town. If it be urg’d, that if there are not, it is possible there might be such People, I answer, that it is as possible that Cats, instead of killing Rats and Mice, should feed them, and go about the House to suckle and nurse their young ones, or that a Kite should call the Hens to their Meat, as the Cock does, and sit brooding over their Chickens instead of devouring ’em; but if they should all do so, they would cease to be Cats and Kites; it is inconsistent with their Natures, and the Species of Creatures which now we mean, when we name Cats and Kites, would be extinct as soon as that could come to pass.

(N.) ²³ Envy it self, and Vanity

Were Ministers of Industry.

PAGE 68. LINE 26. Envy is that Baseness in our Nature, which makes us grieve and pine at what we conceive to be a Happiness in others. I don’t believe there is a Human Creature in his Senses arrived to Maturity, that at one time or other has not been carried away by this Passion in good Earnest; and yet I never met with any one that dared own he was guilty of it, but in Jest. That we are so generally ashamed of this Vice, is owing to that strong Habit of Hypocrisy, by the Help of which, we have learned from our Cradle to hide even from ourselves the vast Extent of Self-Love, and all its different Branches. It is impossible Man should wish better for another than he does for himself, unless where he supposes an Impossibility that himself should attain to those Wishes; and from hence we may easily learn after what manner this Passion is raised in us. In order to it, we are to consider First, That as well as we think of our selves, so ill we often think of our Neighbour with equal Injustice; and when we apprehend, that others do or will enjoy what we think they don’t deserve, it afflicts and makes us angry with the Cause of that Disturbance. Secondly, That we are ever employ’d in wishing well for our selves, every one according to his Judgment and Inclinations, and when we observe something we like, and yet are destitute of, in the Possession of others; it occasions first Sorrow in us for not having the Thing we like. This Sorrow is incurable, whilst we continue our Esteem for the Thing we want: But as Self-Defence is restless, and never suffers us to leave any Means untried how to remove Evil from us, as far and as well as we are able; Experience teaches us, that nothing in Nature more alleviates this Sorrow than our Anger against those who are possess’d of what we esteem and want. This latter Passion therefore, we cherish and cultivate to save or relieve our selves, at least in part, from the Uneasiness we felt from th first.

Envy then is a Compound of Grief and Anger; the Degrees of this Passion depend chiefly on the Nearness or Remoteness of the Objects as to Circumstances. If one, who is forc’d to walk on Foot envies a great Man for keeping a Coach and Six, it will never be with that Violence, or give him that Disturbance which it may to a Man, who keeps a Coach himself; but can only afford to drive with four Horses. The Symptoms of Envy are as various, and as hard to describe, as those of the Plague; at some time it appears in one Shape, at others in another quite different. Among the Fair the Disease is very common, and the Signs of it very conspicuous in their Opinions and Censures of one another. In beautiful young Women you may often discover this Faculty to a high Degree; they frequently will hate one another mortally at first Sight, from no other Principle than Envy; and you may read this Scorn, and unreasonable Aversion in their very Countenances, if they have not a great deal of Art, and well learn’d to dissemble.

In the rude and unpolish’d Multitude this Passion is very bare-faced; especially when they envy others for the Goods of Fortune: They rail at their Betters, rip up their Faults, and take Pains to misconstrue their most commendable Actions: They murmur at Providence, and loudly complain, that the good Things of this World are chiefly enjoy’d by those who do not deserve them. The grosser Sort of them it often affects so violently, that if they were not with-held by the Fear of the Laws, they would go directly and beat those their Envy is levell’d at, from no other Provocation than what that Passion suggests to them.

The Men of Letters labouring under this Distemper discover quite different Symptoms. When they envy a Person for his Parts and Erudition, their chief Care is industriously to conceal their Frailty, which generally is attempted by denying and depreciating the good Qualities they envy: They carefully peruse his Works, and are displeas’d at every fine Passage they meet with; they look for nothing but his Errors, and wish for no greater Feast than a gross Mistake: In their Censures they are captious as well as severe, make Mountains of Molehills, and will not pardon the least Shadow of a Fault, but exaggerate the most trifling Omission into a Capital Blunder.

Envy is visible in Brute Beasts; Horses shew it in their Endeavours of out-stripping one another; and the best spirited will run themselves to Death before they’ll suffer another before them. In Dogs this Passion is likewise plainly to be seen, those who are used to be caress’d will never tamely bear that Felicity in others. I have seen a Lap-Dog that would choak himself with Victuals rather than leave any thing for a Competitor of his own Kind, and we may often observe the same Behaviour in those Creatures which we daily see in Infants that are froward, and by being overfondl’d made humoursome. If out of Caprice they at any time refuse to eat what they have ask’d for, and we can but make them believe that some body else, nay, even the Cat or the Dog is going to take it from them, they will make an end of their Oughts with Pleasure, and feed even against their Appetite.

If Envy was not rivetted in Human Nature, it would not be so common in Children, and Youth would not be so generally spurr’d on by Emulation. Those who would derive every Thing that is beneficial to the Society from a good Principle, ascribe the Effects of Emulation in School-Boys to a Virtue of the Mind; as it requires Labour and Pains; so it is evident, that they commit a Self-Denial, who act from that Disposition; but if we look narrowly into it, we shall find that this Sacrifice of Ease and Pleasure is only made to Envy, and the Love of Glory. If there was not something very like this Passion mix’d with that pretended Virtue, it would be impossible to raise and increase it by the same Means that create Envy. The Boy, who receives a Reward for the Superiority of his Performance, is conscious of the Vexation it would have been to him, if he should have fall’n short of it: This Reflection makes him exert himself, not to be out-done by those whom now he looks upon as his Inferiors, and the greater his Pride is, the more Self-Denial he’ll practise to maintain his Conquest. The other, who, in spight of the Pains he took to do well, has miss’d of the Prize, is sorry, and consequently angry with him whom he must look upon as the Cause of his Grief: But to shew this Anger, would be ridiculous, and of no Service to him; so that he must either be contented to be less esteemed than the other Boy; or by renewing his Endeavours become a greater Proficient; and it is ten to one, but the disinterested, good-humour’d, and peaceable Lad will chuse the first, and so become indolent and unactive, whilst the covetous, peevish, and quarrelsome Rascal shall take incredible Pains, and make himself a Conqueror in his Turn.

Envy, as it is very common among Painters, so it is of great Use for their Improvement: I don’t mean, that little Dawbers envy great Masters, but most of them are tainted with this Vice against those immediately above them. If the Pupil of a famous Artist is of a bright Genius, and uncommon Application, he first adores his Master; but as his own Skill increases, he begins insensibly to envy what he admired before. To learn the nature of this Passion, and that it consists in what I have named, we are but to observe that, if a Painter by exerting himself comes not only to equal but to exceed the Man he envied, his Sorrow is gone and all his Anger disarm’d; and if he hated him before, he is now glad to be Friends with him, if the other will condescend to it.

Married Women, who are Guilty of this Vice which few are not, are always endeavouring to raise the same Passion in their Spouses; and where they have prevail’d, Envy and Emulation have kept more Men in Bounds, and reform’d more Ill Husbands from sloth, from drinking and other evil courses than all the Sermons that have been preach’d since the time of the Apostles.

As every Body would be happy, enjoy Pleasure and avoid Pain if he could, so Self-love bids us look on every Creature that seems satisfied, as a Rival in Happiness; and the Satisfaction we have in seeing that Felicity disturb’d, without any advantage to our selves but what springs from the Pleasure we have in beholding it, is call’d loving mischief for mischiefs sake; and the Motive of which that frailty is the result, Malice, another Offspring derived from the same Original; for if there was no Envy there could be no Malice. When the Passions lye dormant we have no apprehension of them, and often People think they have not such a Frailty in their Nature, because that Moment they are not affected with it.

A Gentleman well dress’d, who happens to be dirty’d all over by a Coach or a Cart, is laugh’d at, and by his Inferiors much more than his Equals, because they envy him more: they know he is vex’d at it, and imagining him to be happier than themselves they are glad to see him meet with displeasures in his turn: But a Young Lady, if she be in a serious Mood, instead of laughing at, pities him, because a clean Man is a sight she takes delight in, and there is no room for Envy. At Disasters, we either laugh, or pity those that befall them, according to the Stock we are possess’d of either of Malice or Compassion. If a Man falls or hurts himself so slightly that it moves not the latter, we laugh, and here our Pity and Malice shake us alternately: Indeed, Sir, I am very sorry for it, I beg your Pardon for laughing, I am the silliest Creature in the World, then laugh again and again; I am indeed very sorry, and so on. Some are so Malicious they would laugh if a Man broke his Leg, and others are so Compassionate that they can heartily pity a Man for the least Spot in his Cloaths; but no Body is so Savage that no Compassion can touch him, nor any Man so good natured as never to be affected with any Malicious Pleasure. How strangely our Passions Govern us! we envy a Man for being Rich, and then perfectly hate him: but if we come to be his Equals, we are calm, and the least Condescention in him makes us Friends; but if we become visibly Superior to him we can pity his Misfortunes. The Reason why Men of true good Sense Envy less than others, is because they admire themselves with less hesitation than Fools and silly People; for tho’ they do not shew this to others, yet the Solidity of their thinking gives them an Assurance of their real Worth, which Men of weak understanding can never feel within, tho’ they often Counterfeit it.

The Ostracism of the Greeks was a Sacrifice of valuable Men made to Epidemick Envy, and often applied as an infallible Remedy to Cure and prevent the Mischiefs of Popular Spleen and Rancour. A Victim of State often appeases the Murmurs of a whole Nation, and after Ages frequently wonder at Barbarities of this Nature, which under the same Circumstances they would have committed themselves. They are Compliments to the Peoples Malice, which is never better gratify’d, than when they can see a great Man humbled. We believe that we love Justice, and to see Merit rewarded; but if Men continue long in the first Posts of Honour, half of us grow weary of them, look for their Faults, and if we can find none, we suppose they hide them, and ’tis much if the greatest part of us don’t wish them discarded. This foul play the best of Men ought ever to apprehend from all who are not their immediate Friends or Acquaintance, because nothing is more tiresome to us than the repetition of Praises we have no manner of share in.

The more a Passion is a Compound of many others, the more difficult it is to define it; and the more it is tormenting to those that labour under it, the greater Cruelty it is capable of inspiring them with against others: Therefore nothing is more whimsical or mischievous than Jealousy, which is made up of Love, Hope, Fear, and a great deal of Envy: The last has been sufficiently treated of already, and what I have to say of Fear the Reader will find under Remark (R.) So that the better to explain and illustrate this odd Mixture, the Ingredients I shall further speak of in this Place are Hope and Love.

Hoping is wishing with some Degree of Confidence, that the Thing wish’d for will come to pass. The Firmness and Imbecillity of our Hope depend entirely on the greater or lesser Degree of our Confidence, and all Hope includes Doubt; for when our Confidence is arriv’d to that Height, as to exclude all Doubts, it becomes a Certainty, and we take for granted what we only hoped for before. A silver Inkhorn may pass in Speech, because every body knows what we mean by it, but a certain Hope cannot: For a Man who makes use of an Epithet that destroys the Essence of the Substantive he joins it to, can have no Meaning at all; and the more clearly we understand the Force of the Epithet, and the Nature of the Substantive, the more palpable is the Nonsense of the heterogeneous Compound. The Reason therefore why it is not so shocking to some, to hear a Man speak of certain Hope, as if he should talk of hot Ice, or liquid Oak, is not because there is less Nonsense contain’d in the first than there is in either of the latter; but because the Word Hope, I mean the Essence of it, is not so clearly understood by the Generality of the People, as the Words and Essences of Ice and Oak are.

Love in the first place signifies Affection, such as Parents and Nurses bear to Children, and Friends to one another; it consists in a Liking, and Well-wishing to the Person beloved. We give an easy Construction to his Words and Actions, and feel a Proneness to excuse, and forgive his Faults, if we see any; his Interest we make on all Accounts our own, even to our Prejudice, and receive an inward Satisfaction for sympathizing with him in his Sorrows, as well as Joys. What I said last is not impossible, whatever it may seem to be; for when we are sincere in sharing with another in his Misfortunes, Self-Love makes us believe, that the Sufferings we feel must alleviate and lessen those of our Friend, and whilst this fond Reflection is soothing our Pain, a secret Pleasure arises from our grieving for the Person we love.

Secondly, By Love we understand a strong Inclination in its Nature distinct from all other Affections of Friendship, Gratitude, and Consanguinity, that Persons of different Sexes, after liking, bear to one another: It is in this Signification that Love enters into the Compound of Jealousy, and is the Effect as well as happy Disguise of that Passion that prompts us to labour for the Preservation of our Species. This latter Appetite is innate both in Men and Women, who are not defective in their Formation, as much as Hunger or Thirst, tho’ they are seldom affected with it before the Years of Puberty. Could we undress Nature, and pry into her deepest Recesses, we should discover the Seeds of this Passion, before it exerts it self, as plainly as we see the Teeth in an Embrio, before the Gums are form’d. There are few healthy People of either Sex, whom it has made no Impression upon before Twenty: Yet, as the Peace and Happiness of the Civil Society require that this should be kept a Secret, never to be talk’d of in Publick; so among well-bred People it is counted highly Criminal to mention before Company any thing in plain Words, that is relating to this Mystery of Succession: By which Means the very Name of the Appetite, tho’ the most necessary for the Continuance of Mankind, is become odious, and the proper Epithets commonly join’d to Lust are Filthy and Abominable.

This Impulse of Nature in People of strict Morals, and rigid Modesty, often disturbs the Body for a considerable Time before it is understood or known to be what it is, and it is remarkable that the most polish’d and best instructed are generally the most ignorant as to this Affair; and here I can but observe the Difference between Man in the wild State of Nature, and the same Creature in the Civil Society. In the first, Men and Women, if left rude and untaught in the Sciences of Modes and Manners, would quickly find out the Cause of that Disturbance, and be at a loss no more than other Animals for a present Remedy: Besides, that it is not probable they would want either Precept or Example from the more experienc’d. But in the second, where the Rules of Religion, Law, and Decency are to be follow’d, and obey’d before any Dictates of Nature, the Youth of both Sexes are to be arm’d and fortify’d against this Impulse, and from their Infancy artfully frighten’d from the most remote Approaches of it. The Appetite it self, and all the Symptoms of it, tho’ they are plainly felt and understood, are to be stifled with Care and Severity, and in Women flatly disown’d; and, if there be Occasion, with Obstinacy deny’d, even when themselves are visibly affected by them. If it throws them into Distempers, they must be cured by Physick, or else patiently bear them in Silence; and it is the Interest of the Society to preserve Decency and Politeness; that Women should linger, waste, and die, rather than relieve themselves in an unlawful Manner; and among the fashionable Part of Mankind, the People of Birth and Fortune, it is expected, that Matrimony should never be enter’d upon without a curious Regard to Family, Estate, and Reputation, and in the making of Matches the Call of Nature be the very last Consideration.

Those then who would make Love and Lust Synonimous confound the Effect with the Cause of it: yet such is the force of Education, and a Habit of thinking as we are taught, that sometimes Persons of either Sex are actually in Love without feeling any Carnal Desires, or penetrating into the Intentions of Nature, the end proposed by her, without which they could never have been affected with that sort of Passion. That there are such is certain, but many more whose pretences to those refin’d notions are only upheld by Art and Dissimulation. Those, who are really such Platonick Lovers are commonly the pale faced weakly People of cold and phlegmatick Constitutions in either Sex; the hail and robust of bilious Temperament and a sanguine Complexion never entertain any Love so Spiritual as to exclude all thoughts and wishes that relate to the Body. But if the most Seraphick Lovers would know the original of their Inclination, let them but suppose that another should have the Corporal Enjoyment of the Person beloved, and by the Tortures they’ll suffer from that Reflection they will soon discover the nature of their Passions: Whereas on the contrary, Parents and Friends receive a Satisfaction in reflecting on the Joys and Comforts of a Happy Marriage, to be tasted by those they wish well to.

The curious, that are skill’d in anatomizing the invisible part of Man will observe, that the more sublime and exempt this Love is from all thoughts of Sensuality, the more spurious it is, and the more it degenerates from its honest original and primitive Simplicity. The Power and Sagacity as well as Labour and Care of the Politician in civilising the Society, has been no where more conspicuous, than in the Happy Contrivance of playing our Passions against one another. By flattering our Pride and still encreasing the good Opinion we have of our selves on the one hand; and inspiring us on the other with a superlative Dread and mortal Aversion against Shame, the Artful Moralists have taught us chearfully to encounter ourselves, and if not subdue, at least so to conceal and disguise our darling Passion Lust, that we scarce know it when we meet with it in our own Breasts; Oh! the mighty Prize we have in view for all our Self-denial! can any Man be so serious as to abstain from Laughter, when he considers that for so much deceit and insincerity practis’d upon our selves as well as others, we have no other recompence than the vain Satisfaction of making our Species appear more exalted and remote from that of other Animals, than it really is; and we in our Consciences know it to be? Yet this is Fact, and in it we plainly perceive the reason why it was necessary to render odious every Word or Action by which we might discover the innate Desire we feel to perpetuate our Kind; and why tamely to submit to the violence of a Furious Appetite (which it is painful to resist) and innocently to obey, the most pressing demand of Nature without Guile or Hypocrisy, like other Creatures should be branded with the Ignominious Name of Brutality.

What we call Love then is not a Genuine, but an Adulterated Appetite, or rather a Compound, a heap of several contradictory Passions blended in one. As it is a product of Nature warp’d by Custom and Education, so the true origin and first motive of it, as I have hinted already, is stifled in well bred People, and almost conceal’d from themselves: all which is the reason that as those affected with it vary in Age, Strength, Resolution, Temper, Circumstances and Manners, the effects of it are so different, whimsical, surprizing and unaccountable.

It is this Passion that makes Jealousy so troublesome, and the envy of it often so Fatal: those who imagine that there may be Jealousy without Love, do not understand that Passion. Men may not have the least Affection for their Wives, and yet be angry with them for their Conduct, and suspicious of them either with or without a Cause: but what in such cases affects them is their Pride, the concern for their Reputation. They feel a hatred against them without remorse; when they are Outrageous, they can beat them and go to sleep contentedly: Such Husbands may watch their Dames themselves, and have them observed by others; but their Vigilance is not so intense; they are not so inquisitive or industrious in their Searches, neither do they feel that anxiety of Heart at the fear of a discovery, as when Love is mix’d with the Passions.

What confirms me in this Opinion is, that we never observe this Behaviour between a Man and his Mistress; for when his Love is gone and he suspects her to be false, he leaves her and troubles his Head no more about her: whereas it is the greatest difficulty imaginable, even to a Man of sense to part with a Mistress as long as he loves her, whatever Faults she may be guilty of. If in his anger he strikes her he is uneasy after it; his Love makes him reflect on the hurt he has done her, and he wants to be reconcil’d to her again. He may talk of hating her, and many times from his Heart wish her hang’d, but if he cannot get entirely rid of his Frailty, he can never disintangle himself from her; tho’ she is represented in the most monstrous guilt to his Imagination, and he has resolved and swore a thousand times never to come near her again, there is no trusting him; even when he is fully convinced of her infidelity, if his Love continues, his Despair is never so lasting, but between the blackest fits of it, he relents and finds lucid Intervals of Hope; he forms excuses for her, thinks of pardoning, and in order to it racks his invention for possibilities that may make her appear less Criminal.

(O.) Real Pleasures, Comforts, Ease

PAGE 69. LINE 10. That the highest Good consisted in Pleasure, was the Doctrine of Epicurus, who yet lead a life Exemplary for Continence, Sobriety and other Vertues, which made People of the succeeding Ages quarrel about the signification of Pleasure. Those who argued from the Temperance of the Philosopher, said, that the Delight Epicurus meant, was being Virtuous; so Erasmus in his Colloquies tells us, that there are no greater Epicures than pious Christians. Others that reflected on the dissolute Manners of the greatest part of his Followers, would have it, that by Pleasures he could have understood nothing but sensual Ones, and the Gratification of our Passions. I shall not decide their Quarrel, but am of Opinion, that whether Men be good or bad, what they take delight in is their Pleasure, and not to look out for any further Etymology from the learned Languages, I believe an Englishman may justily call every thing a Pleasure that pleases him, and according to this Definition, we ought to dispute no more about Men’s Pleasures than their Tastes: Trahit sua quemque Voluptas.²⁴

The worldly minded, voluptuous and ambitious Man, notwithstanding he is void of Merit, covets Precedence every where, and desires to be dignify’d above his Betters: He aims at spacious Palaces and delicious Gardens; his chief Delight is in excelling others in stately Horses, magnificent Coaches, a numerous Attendance, and dear-bought Furniture. To gratify his Lust, he wishes for genteel, young, beautiful Women of different Charms and Complexions that shall adore his Greatness, and be really in love with his Person: His Cellars he would have stored with the Flower of every Country that produces excellent Wines: His Table he desires may be serv’d with many Courses, and each of them contain a choice variety of Dainties not easily purchas’d, and ample evidences of elaborate and judicious Cookery; whilst harmonious Musick and well-couch’d Flattery entertain his Hearing by turns. He employs, even in the meanest Trifles, none but the ablest and most ingenious Workmen, that his Judgment and Fancy may as evidently appear in the least things that belong to him, as his Wealth and Quality are manifested in those of greater Value. He desires to have several Sets of witty, facetious and polite People to converse with, and among them he would have some famous for Learning and universal Knowledge: For his serious Affairs, he wishes to find Men of Parts and Experience that should be diligent and faithful. Those that are to wait on him he would have handy, mannerly and discreet, of comely Aspect and a graceful Mein: What he requires in them besides, is a respectful Care of every thing that is His, Nimbleness without Hurry, Dispatch without Noise, and an unlimited Obedience to his Orders: Nothing he thinks more troublesome than speaking to Servants; wherefore he will only be attended by such, as by observing his Looks have learn’d to interpret his Will from his slightest Motions. He loves to see an elegant Nicety in every thing that approaches him, and in what is to be employ’d about his Person he desires a superlative Cleanliness to be religiously observ’d. The chief Officers of his Houshold he would have to be Men of Birth, Honour and Distinction, as well as Order, Contrivance and Oeconomy; for tho’ he loves to be honour’d by every Body, and receives the Respects of the Common People with Joy, yet the Homage that is paid him by Persons of Quality is ravishing to him in a more transcendent manner.

Whilst thus wallowing in a Sea of Lust and Vanity, he is wholly employ’d in provoking and indulging his Appetites, he desires the World should think him altogether free from Pride and Sensuality, and put a favourable Construction upon his most glaring Vices: Nay, if his Authority can purchase it, he covets to be thought Wise, Brave, Generous, Good-natur’d, and endu’d with all the Virtues he thinks worth having. He would have us believe that the Pomp and Luxury he is serv’d with are as many tiresome Plagues to him; and all the Grandeur he appears in is an ungrateful Burden, which, to his Sorrow, is inseparable from the high Sphere he moves in, that his noble Mind so much exalted above vulgar Capacities, aims at higher ends, and can not relish such worthless Enjoyments; that the highest of his Ambition is to promote the Publick Welfare, and his greatest Pleasure to see his Country flourish and every Body in it made happy. These are call’d real Pleasures by the Vicious, and Earthly minded, and whoever is able, either by his Skill or Fortune after this refin’d manner at once to enjoy the World, and the good Opinion of it, is counted extremely happy by all the most fashionable part of the People.

But on the other side most of the ancient Philosophers and grave Moralists, especially the Stoicks, would not allow any thing to be a real Good that was liable to be taken from them by others. They wisely consider’d the Instability of Fortune and the Favour of Princes, the Vanity of Honour and Popular Applause; the Precariousness of Riches and all Earthly Possessions, and therefore placed true Happiness in the calm Serenity of a contented Mind free from Guilt and Ambition; a Mind, that, having subdued every sensual Appetite, despises the Smiles as well as Frowns of Fortune, and taking no delight but in Contemplation, desires nothing but what every Body is able to give to himself: A Mind, that arm’d with Fortitude and Resolution has learn’d to sustain the greatest Losses without Concern, to endure Pain without Affliction, and to bear Injuries without Resentment. Many have own’d themselves arriv’d to this height of Self-denial, and then, if we may believe them, they were rais’d above Common Mortals, and their Strength extended vastly beyond the pitch of their first Nature: They could behold the Anger of Threatning Tyrants and the most imminent Dangers without Terror, and preserv’d their Tranquility in the midst of Torments: Death itself they could meet with Intrepidity and left the World with no greater Reluctancy than they had shew’d Fondness at their entrance into it.

These among the Ancients have always bore the greatest Sway; yet others that were no Fools neither, have exploded those Precepts as impracticable, call’d their Notions Roman-tick, and endeavour’d to prove, that what these Stoicks asserted of themselves exceeded all human Force and Possibility, and that therefore the Virtues they boasted of could be nothing but haughty Pretences full of Arrogance and Hypocrisy; yet notwithstanding these Censures, the Serious part of the World, and the generality of wise Men that have liv’d ever since to this Day agree with the Stoicks in the most material Points; as that there can be no true Felicity in what depends on things perishable; that Peace within is the greatest Blessing, and no Conquest like that of our Passions, that Knowledge, Temperance, Fortitude, Humility, and other Embellishments of the Mind are the most valuable Acquisitions; that no Man can be happy but he that is good; and that the Virtuous are only capable of enjoying real Pleasures.

I expect to be ask’d why in the Fable I have call’d those Pleasures real that are directly opposite to those which I own the wise Men of all Ages have extoll’d as the most valuable. My Answer is, because I don’t call things Pleasures which Men say are best, but such as they seem to be most pleased with; how can I believe that a Man’s chief delight is in the Embellishments of the Mind, when I see him ever employ’d about and daily pursue the Pleasures that are contrary to them? John never cuts any Pudding, but just enough that you can’t say he took none; this little Bit, after much chomping and chewing you see goes down with him like chop’d Hay, after, that he falls upon the Beef with a voracious Appetite, and crams himself up to his Throat. Is it not provoking to hear John cry every Day that Pudding is all his delight, and that he don’t value the Beef of a Farthing?

I could swagger about Fortitude and the Contempt of Riches as much as Seneca himself, and would undertake to write twice as much in behalf of Poverty as ever he did, for the tenth part of his Estate. I could teach the way to his Summum Bonum as exactly as I know my way home: I could tell People, that to extricate themselves from all worldly Engagements, and to purify the Mind, they must divest themselves of their Passions, as Men take out the Furniture when they would clean a Room thoroughly, and I am clearly of the Opinion, that the Malice and most severe Strokes of Fortune can do no more injury to a Mind thus stript of all Fears, Wishes and Inclinations, than a blind Horse can do in an empty Barn. In the Theory of all this I am very perfect, but the Practice is very difficult; and if you went about picking my Pocket, offer’d to take the Victuals from before me when I am hungry, or made but the least motion of spitting in my Face, I dare not promise how Philosophically I should behave my self. But that I am forced to submit to every caprice of my unruly Nature, you’ll say is no Argument that others are as little Masters of theirs, and therefore I am willing to pay Adoration to Virtue wherever I can meet with it, with a Proviso, that I shall not be oblig’d to admit any as such where I can see no Self-denial, or to judge of Mens Sentiments from their Words, where I have their Lives before me.

I have search’d through every Degree and Station of Men, and confess, that I have found no where more Austerity of Manners, or greater Contempt of Earthly Pleasures, than in some Religious Houses, where People freely resigning and retiring from the World to combat themselves, have no other Business but to subdue their Appetites. What can be a greater Evidence of perfect Chastity, and a superlative Love to immaculate Purity in Men and Women, than that in the Prime of their Age, when Lust is most raging, they should actually seclude themselves from each others Company, and by a voluntary Renunciation debar themselves for Life, not only from Uncleanness, but even the most lawful Embraces? Those that abstain from Flesh, and often all manner of Food, one wou’d think in the right way to conquer all Carnal Desires; and I could almost swear, that he don’t consult his Ease, who daily mawls his bare Back and Shoulders with unconscionable Stripes, and constantly roused at Midnight from his Sleep, leaves his Bed for his Devotion. Who can despise Riches more, or shew himself less Avaricious than he, who won’t so much as touch Gold or Silver, no not with his Feet? Or can any Mortal shew himself less Luxurious or more humble than the Man, that making Poverty his choice, contents himself with Scraps and Fragments, and refuses to eat any Bread but what is bestow’d upon him by the Charity of others?

Such fair Instances of Self-denial would make me bow down to Virtue, if I was not deter’d and warn’d from it by so many Persons of Eminence and Learning, who unanimously tell me that I am mistaken, and all I have seen is Farce and Hypocrisy; that what Seraphick Love they may pretend to, there is nothing but Discord among them, and that how Penitential the Nuns and Fryars may appear in their several Convents, they none of them sacrifise their darling Lusts. That among the Women they are not all Virgins that pass for such, and that if I was to be let into their Secrets, and examine some of their Subterraneous Privacies, I should soon be convinced by Scenes of Horror, that some of them must have been Mothers. That among the Men, I should find Calumny, Envy and Ill Nature in the highest degree, or else Gluttony, Drunkenness, and Impurities of a more execrable kind than Adultery itself: And as for the Mendicant Orders, that they differ in nothing but their Habits from other sturdy Beggars, who deceive People with a pitiful Tone and an outward shew of Misery, and as soon as they are out of sight, lay by their Cant, indulge their Appetites, and enjoy one another.

If the strict Rules, and so many outward signs of Devotion observ’d among those religious Orders, deserve such harsh Censures, we may well despair of meeting with Virtue any where else; for if we look into the Actions of the Antagonists, and greatest Accusers of those Votaries, we shall not find so much as the appearance of self denial. The Reverend Divines of all Sects, even of the most Reform’d Churches in all Countries, take care with the Cyclops Evangeliophorus first; ut ventri bene sit, and afterwards, ne quid desit iis quœ sub ventre sunt:²⁵ To these they’ll desire you to add, convenient Houses, handsome Furniture, good Fires in Winter, pleasant Gardens in Summer, neat Cloaths, and Money enough to bring up their Children: Precedency in all Companies, Respect from every body, and then as much Religion as you please. The things I have named are the necessary Comforts of Life, which the most Modest are not asham’d to claim, and which they are very uneasie without. They are, ’tis true, made of the same Mould, and have the same corrupt Nature with other Men, born with the same Infirmities, subject to the same Passions, and liable to the same Temptations, and therefore if they are diligent in their Calling, and can but abstain from Murder, Adultery, Swearing, Drunkenness, and other heinous Vices, their Lives are call’d unblemish’d, and their Reputations unspotted; their Function renders them holy, and the Gratification of so many Carnal Appetites, and the Enjoyment of so much luxurious Ease notwithstanding, they may set upon themselves what value their Pride and Parts will allow them.

All this I have nothing against, but I see no Self denial, without which there can be no Virtue. Is it such a Mortification not to desire a greater Share of worldly Blessings, than what every reasonable Man ought to be satisfy’d with? Or is there any mighty Merit in not being flagitious, and forbearing Indecencies that are repugnant to good Manners, and which no prudent Man would be guilty of, tho’ he had no Religion at all?

I know I shall be told, that the reason why the Clergy are so violent in their Resentments, when at any time they are but in the least affronted, and shew themselves so void of all Patience when their Rights are invaded, is their great care to preserve their Calling, their Profession from Contempt, not for their own sakes, but to be more serviceable to others. ’Tis the same reason that makes ’em sollictious about the Comforts and Conveniencies of Life; for should they suffer themselves to be insulted over, be content with a courser Diet, and wear more ordinary Cloaths than other People, the Multitude, who judge from outward Appearances, would be apt to think that the Clergy was no more the immediate Care of Providence than other Folks, and so not only undervalue their Persons but despise likewise all the Reproofs and Instructions that came from ’em. This is an admirable Plea, and as it is much made use of I’ll try the worth of it.

I am not of the Learned Dr Eachard’s Opinion,²⁶ that Poverty is one of those things that bring the Clergy into Contempt, any further than as it may be an occasion of discovering their blind-side: For when Men are always strugling with their low Condition, and are unable to bear the Burden of it without Reluctancy, it is then they shew how uneasy their Poverty sits upon them, how glad they would be to have their Circumstances meliorated, and what a real value they have for the good things of this World. He that harangues on the Contempt of Riches, and the Vanity of Earthly Enjoyments, in a rusty threadbare Gown, because he has no other, and would wear his old greasy Hat no longer, if any body would give him a better; that drinks Small-beer at Home with a heavy Countenance, but leaps at a Glass of Wine if he can catch it Abroad; that with little Appetite feeds upon his own course Mess, but falls to greedily where he can please his Palate, and expresses an uncommon Joy at an Invitation to a splendid Dinner: ’Tis he that is despised, not because he is Poor, but because he knows not how to be so with that Content and Resignation which he preaches to others, and so discovers his Inclinations to be contrary to his Doctrine. But when a Man from the greatness of his Soul (or an obstinate Vanity, which will do as well) resolving to subdue his Appetites in good earnest, refuses all the offers of Ease and Luxury that can be made to him, and embracing a voluntary Poverty with chearfulness, rejects whatever may gratify the Senses, and actually sacrifises all his Passions to his Pride in acting this Part, the Vulgar far from contemning will be ready to Deify and adore him. How famous have the Cynick Philosophers made themselves, only by refusing to dissimulate and make use of Superfluities? Did not the most Ambitious Monarch the World ever bore, condescend to visit Diogenes in his Tub, and return to a study’d Incivility, the highest Compliment a Man of his Pride was able to make?

Mankind are very willing to take one anothers Word, when they see some Circumstances that corroborate what is told them; but when our Actions directly contradict what we say, it is counted Impudence to desire Belief. If a jolly hail Fellow with glowing Cheecks and warm Hands, newly return’d from some smart Exercise, or else the Cold Bath, tells us in frosty Weather, that he cares not for the Fire, we are easily induced to believe him, especially if he actually turns from it, and we know by his Circumstances that he wants neither Fuel nor Cloaths: But if we should hear the same from the Mouth of a poor starv’d Wretch, with swell’d Hands, and a livid Countenance, in a thin ragged Garment, we should not believe a word of what he said, especially if we saw him shaking and shivering, creep toward the Suny Bank, and we would conclude, let him say what he could, that warm Cloaths and a good Fire would be very acceptable to him. The Application is easy, and therefore if there be any Clergy upon Earth that would be thought not to care for the World, and to value the Soul above the Body, let them only forbear shewing a greater concern for their Sensual Pleasures than they generally do for their Spiritual ones, and they may rest satisfy’d, that no Poverty, whilst they bear it with Fortitude, will ever bring them into Contempt, how mean soever their Circumstances may be.

Let us suppose a Pastor that has a little Flock entrusted to him, of which he is very careful: He preaches, visits, exhorts, reproves among his People with Zeal and Prudence, and does them all the kind Offices that lie in his Power to make them happy. There is no doubt but those under his care must be very much oblig’d to him. Now we’ll suppose once more, that this good Man by the help of a little Self-denial, is contented to live upon half his Income, accepting only of Twenty Pounds a Year instead of Forty, which he could claim; and moreover, that he loves his Parishioners so well, that he will never leave them for any Preferment whatever, no not a Bishoprick, tho’ it be offer’d. I can’t see but all this might be an casy task to a Man who professes Mortification, and has no value for worldly Pleasures; yet such a disinterested Divine I dare promise, notwithstanding the great degeneracy of Mankind, will be lov’d, esteem’d, and have every body’s good Word; nay I would swear, that tho’ he should yet further exert himself, give above half of his small Revenue to the Poor, live upon nothing but Oatmeal and Water, lie upon Straw, and wear the coursest Cloth that could be made, his mean way of Living would never be reflected on, or be a Disparagement either to himself or the Order he belong’d to; but that on the contrary his Poverty would never be mention’d but to his Glory, as long as his Memory should last.

But (says a charitable young Gentlewoman) tho’ you have the Heart to starve your Parson, have you no Bowels of Compassion for his Wife and Children? Pray what must remain of Forty Pounds a Year after it has been twice so unmercifully split? Or would you have the Poor Woman and the innocent Babes likewse live upon Oatmeal and Water, and lie upon Straw, you unconscionable Wretch, with all your Suppositions and Self denials? Nay, is it possible, tho’ they should all live at your own murdering rate, that less than Ten Pounds a Year could maintain a Family?—Don’t be in a Passion good Mrs. Abigail,²⁷ I have greater regard for your Sex than to prescribe such a lean Diet to married Men; but I confess I forgot the Wives and Children: The main reason was, because I thought poor Priests could have no occasion for them; who could imagine that the Parson, who is to teach others by Example as well as Precept, was not able to withstand those Desires which the wicked World itself calls unreasonable? What is the reason when a ’Prentice marries before he is out of his Time, that unless he meets with a good Fortune, all his Relations are angry with him, and every body blames him? Nothing else but because at that time he has no Money at his disposal, and being bound to his Master’s Service, has no leisure and perhaps little Capacity to provide for a Family. What must we say to a Parson that has Twenty, or if you will Forty Pounds a Year, that being bound more strictly to all the Services a Parish and his Duty require, has little time and generally much less Ability to get any more? Is it not very unreasonable he should Marry? But why should a sober young Man, who is guilty of no Vice, be debarr’d from lawful Enjoyments? Right; Marriage is lawful, and so is a Coach; but what is that to People that have not Money enough to keep one: If he must have a Wife, let him look out for one with Money, or wait for a greater Benefice, or something else to maintain her handsomely, and bear all incident Charges. But no body that has any thing herself will have him, and he can’t stay: He has a very good Stomach and all the Symptoms of Health, ’tis not every body that can live without a Woman; tis better to Marry than burn. – What a World of Self-denial is here? The sober young Man is very willing to be Virtuous, but you must not cross his Inclinations; he promises never to be a Deer-stealer, upon Condition that he shall have Venison of his own, and no body must doubt but that if it came to the Push, he is qualify’d to suffer Martyrdom, tho’ he owns that he has not Strength enough, patiently to bear a scratch’d Finger.

When we see so many of the Clergy, to indulge their Lust, a brutish Appetite, run themselves after this manner upon an inevitable Poverty, which unless they could bear it with greater Fortitude than they discover in all their Actions, must of necessity make them contemptible to all the World, what Credit must we give them, when they pretend that they conform themselves to the World, not because they take delight in the several Decencies, Conveniencies, and Ornaments of it, but only to preserve their Function from Contempt, in order to be more useful to others? Have we not reason to believe, that what they say is full of Hypocrisy and Falshood, and that concupiscence is not the only Appetite they want to gratify; that the haughty Airs and quick Sense of Injuries, the curious Elegance in Dress, and niceness of Palate, to be observ’d in most of them that are able to shew them, are the Results of Pride and Luxury in them as they are in other People, and that the Clergy are not possess’d of more Intrinsick Virtue than any other Profession?

I am afraid that by this time I have given many of my Readers a real displeasure, by dwelling so long upon the reality of Pleasure; but I can’t help it, there is one thing comes into my Head to corroborate what I have urg’d already, which I can’t forbear mentioning: It is this: Those who govern others throughout the World, are at least as wise as the People that are govern’d by them, generally speaking: If for this reason we would take Pattern from our Superiors, we have but to cast our Eyes on all the Courts and Governments in the Universe, and we shall soon perceive from the Actions of the Great ones, which Opinion they side with, and what Pleasures those in the highest Stations of all seem to be most fond of: For if it be allowable at all to judge of People’s Inclinations from their manner of Living, none can be less injur’d by it than those who are the most at Liberty to do as they please.

If the great ones of the Clergy as well as the Laity of any Country whatever, had no value for Earthly Pleasures, and did not endeavour to gratify their Appetites, why are Envy and Revenge so raging among them, and all the other Passions improv’d and refin’d upon in Courts of Princes more than any where else, and why are their Repasts, their Recreations, and whole manner of Living always such as are approv’d of, coveted, and imitated by the most sensual People of that same Country? If despising all visible Decorations they were only in Love with the Embellishments of the Mind, why should they borrow so many of the Implements, and make use of the most darling Toys of the Luxurious? Why should a Lord-Treasurer, or a Bishop, or even the Grand Signior or the Pope of Rome, to be good and Virtuous, and endeavour the Conquest of his Passions, have occasion for greater Revenues, richer Furniture, or a more numerous Attendance, as to Personal Service, than a Private Man? What Virtue is it the Exercise of which requires so much Pomp and Superfluity, as are to be seen by all Men in Power? A Man has as much opportunity to practise Temperance, that has but one Dish at a Meal, as he that is constantly serv’d with three Courses and a dozen Dishes in each: One may exercise as much Patience, and be as full of Self denial on a few Flocks, without Curtains or Tester, as in a Velvet Bed that is Sixteen Foot high. The Virtuous Possessions of the Mind are neither Charge nor Burden: A Man may bear Misfortunes with Fortitude in a Garret, forgive Injuries a foot, and be Chaste, tho’ he has not a Shirt to his Back; and therefore I shall never believe, but that an indifferent Skuller, if he was entrusted with it, might carry all the Learning and Religion that one Man can contain, as well as a Barge with six Oars, especially if it was but to cross from Lambeth to Westminster; or that Humility it so ponderous a Virtue, that it requires six Horses to draw it.

To say, that Men not being so easily govern’d by their Equals as by their Superiors, it is necessary that to keep the multitude in awe, those who rule over us should excel others in outward Appearance, and consequently that all in high Stations should have Badges of Honour, and Ensigns of Power to be distinguish’d from the Vulgar, is a frivolous Objection. This in the first Place can only be of use to poor Princes, and weak and precarious Governments, that being actually unable to maintain the publick Peace, are obliged with a Pageant Shew to make up what they want in real Power: So the Governor of Batavia in the East-Indies is forced to keep up a Grandeur, and live in a Magnificence above his Quality to strike a Terror in the Natives of Java, who, if they had Skill and Conduct, are strong enough to destroy ten times the number of their Masters; but great Princes and States that keep large Fleets at Sea and numerous Armies in the Field, have no occasion for such Stratagems; for what makes ’em formidable Abroad, will never fail to be their Security at Home. Secondly, what must protect the Lives and Wealth of People from the Attempts of wicked Men in all Societies, is the Severity of the Laws, and diligent Administration of impartial Justice. Theft, House-breaking and Murther are not to be prevented by the Scarlet Gowns of the Aldermen, the Gold Chains of the Sheriffs, the fine Trappings of their Horses, or any gawdy Shew whatever: Those pageant Ornaments are beneficial another way; they are eloquent Lectures to ’Prentices, and the use of them is to animate, not to deter: but Men of abandon’d Principles must be aw’d by rugged Officers, strong Prisons, watchful Jaylors, the Hangman and the Gallows. If London was to be one Week destitute of Constables and Watchmen to guard the Houses a Nights, half the Bankers would be ruin’d in that time, and if my Lord Mayor had nothing to defend himself but his great two handed Sword, the huge Cap of Maintenance, and his guilded Mace, he would soon be strip’d in the very Streets of the City of all his finery in his stately Coach.

But let us grant, that the Eyes of the Mobility are to be dazled with a gawdy outside; if Virtue was the chief delight of great Men, why should their Extravagance be extended to Things not understood by the Mob, and wholly removed from publick View, I mean their private Diversions, the Pomp and Luxury of the Dining-Room and the Bed-Chamber, and the Curiosities of the Closet? Few of the Vulgar know that there is Wine of a Guinea the Bottle, that Birds no bigger than Larks are often sold for half a Guinea apiece, or that a single Picture may be worth several thousand Pounds: Besides, is it to be imagin’d, that unless it was to please their own Appetites Men should put themselves to such vast Expences for a Political Shew, and be so sollicitous to gain the Esteem of those whom they so much despise in every thing else? If we allow that the Splendor and all the Elegancy of a Court are insipid, and only tiresome to the Prince himself, and are altogether made use of to preserve Royal Majesty from Contempt: Can we say the same of half a dozen illegitimate Children, most of them the Offspring of Adultery by the same Majesty, got, educated and made Princes at the Expence of the Nation? Therefore it is evident, that this awing of the Multitude by a distinguish’d manner of living, is only a Cloak and Pretence, under which great Men would shelter their Vanity, and indulge every Appetite about them without Reproach.

A Burgomaster of Amsterdam in his plain, black Suit, follow’d perhaps by one Footman, is fully as much respected and better obey’d than a Lord Mayor of London with all his splendid Equipage and great Train of Attendance. Where there is a real Power it is ridiculous to think that any Temperance or Austerity of Life should ever render the Person in whom that Power is lodg’d contemptible in his Office, from an Emperor to the Beadle of a Parish. Cato in his Government of Spain, in which he acquitted himself with so much Glory, had only three Servants to attend him; do we hear that any of his Orders were ever slighted for this, notwithstanding that he lov’d his Bottle? And when that great Man march’d on Foot thro’ the scorching Sands of Lybia, and parch’d up with Thirst, refus’d to touch the Water that was brought him, before all his Soldiers had drank, do we ever read that this Heroick Forbearance weakned his Authority, or lessen’d him in the Esteem of his Army? But what need we go so far off: There has not these many Ages been a Prince less inclin’d to Pomp and Luxury than the present ^* King of Sweden,²⁹ who enamour’d with the Title of Hero, has not only sacrifis’d the Lives of his Subjects, and Welfare of his Dominions, but (what is more uncommon in Sovereigns) his own Ease, and all the Comforts of Life, to an implacable Spirit of Revenge; yet he is obey’d to the Ruine of his People, in obstinately maintaining a War that has almost utterly destroy’d his Kingdom.

Thus I have prov’d, that the Real Pleasures of all Men in Nature are worldly and sensual, if we judge from their Practice. I say, all Men in Nature, because Devout Christians, who alone are to be excepted here, being regenerated, and preternaturally assisted by the Divine Grace, cannot be said to be in Nature. How strange it is, that they should all so unanimously deny it! Ask not only the Divines and Moralists of every Nation, but likewise all that are rich and powerful, about real Pleasure, and they’ll tell you, with the Stoicks, that there can be no true Felicity in Things Mundane and Corruptible; but then look upon their Lives, and you will find they take delight in no other.

What must we do in this Dilemma? Shall we be so uncharitable, as judging from Men’s Actions to say, That all the World prevaricates, and that this is not their Opinion, let them talk what they will? Or shall we be so silly, as relying on what they say, to think them sincere in their Sentiments, and so not believe our own Eyes? Or shall we rather endeavour to believe our selves and them too, and say with Montagne, that they imagine, and are fully perswaded, that they believe what yet they do not believe? These are his Words; Some impose on the World, and would be thought to believe what they really don’t; but much the greater number impose upon themselves, not considering nor thoroughly apprehending what it is to believe. But this is making all Mankind either Fools or Impostors, which to avoid, there is nothing left us, but to say what Mr. Bayle has endeavour’d to prove at large in his Reflections on Comets; That Man is so unaccountable a Creature as to act most commonly against his Principle; and this is so far from being injurious, that it is a Compliment to Human Nature, for we must say either this or worse.

This Contradiction in the Frame of Man is the Reason that the Theory of Virtue is so well understood, and the Practice of it so rarely to be met with. If you ask me where to look for those beautiful shining Qualities of Prime Ministers, and the great Favourites of Princes that are so finely painted in Dedications, Addresses, Epitaphs, Funeral Sermons and Inscriptions, I answer There, and no where else. Where would you look for the Excellency of a Statue, but in that part which you see of it? ’Tis the Polish’d outside only that has the Skill and Labour of the Sculptor to boast of; what’s out of sight is untouch’d. Would you break the Head, or cut open the Breast to look for the Brains or the Heart, you’d only shew your Ignorance and destroy the Workmanship. This has often made me compare the Virtues of great Men to your large China Jars; they make a fine Shew, and are Ornamental even to a Chimney; one would by the Bulk they appear in, and the Value that is set upon ’em, think they might be very useful, but look into a thousand of them, and you’ll find nothing in them but Dust and Cobwebs.

(P.) —— The very Poor

Lived better than the Rich before.

PAGE 69. LINE 11. If we trace the most flourishing Nations in their Origin, we shall find that in the remote Beginnings of every Society, the richest and most considerable Men among them were a great while destitute of a great many Comforts of Life that are now enjoy’d by the meanest and most humble Wretches: So that many things, which were once look’d upon as the invention of Luxury, are now allow’d even to those that are so miserably poor as to become the Objects of publick Charity, nay counted so necessary, that we think no Human Creature ought to want them.

In the first Ages Man, without doubt, fed on the Fruits of the Earth, without any previous Preparation, and reposed himself naked like other Animals on the Lap of their common Parent: Whatever has contributed since to make Life more Comfortable, as it must have been the Result of Thought, Experience, and some Labour, so it more or less deserves the Name of Luxury, the more or less trouble it required and deviated from the primitive Simplicity. Our Admiration is extended no farther than to what is new to us, and we all overlook the Excellency of Things we are used to, be they never so curious. A Man would be laugh’d at, that should discover Luxury in the plain Dress of a poor Creature that walks along in a thick Parish Gown and a course Shirt underneath it; and yet what a number of People, how many different Trades, and what a variety of Skill and Tools must be employ’d to have the most ordinary Yorkshire Cloth? What depth of Thought and Ingenuity, what Toil and Labour, and what length of Time must it have cost, before Man could learn from a Seed to raise and prepare so useful a Product as Linnen?

Must that Society not be vainly curious, among whom this admirable Commodity, after it is made, shall not be thought fit to be used even by the poorest of all, before it is brought to a perfect whiteness, which is not to be procur’d but by the assistance of all the Elements joyn’d to a world of Industry and Patience? I have not done yet; Can we reflect not only on the Cost laid out upon this Luxurious Invention, but likewise on the little time the Whiteness of it continues, in which part of its Beauty consists, that every six or seven Days at furthest it wants cleaning, and whilst it lasts is a continual Charge to the wearer; can we, I say, reflect on all this, and not think it an extravagant Piece of Nicety, that even those who receive Alms of the Parish, should not only have whole Garments made of this operose Manufacture, but likewise that as soon as they are soil’d, to restore them to their pristine Purity, they should make use of one of the most Judicious as well as difficult Compositions that Chymistry can boast of; with which dissolv’d in Water by the help of Fire, the most detersive, and yet innocent Lixivium³⁰ is prepar’d that Human Industry has hitherto been able to invent?

It is certain, Time was that the Things I speak of would have bore those lofty Expressions, and in which every Body would have reason’d after the same manner; but the Age we live in would call a Man Fool who should talk of Extravagance and Nicety, if he saw a poor Woman, after having wore her Crown Cloath Smock a whole Week, wash it with a bit of stinking Soap of a Groat a Pound.

The Arts of Brewing and making Bread, have by slow degrees been brought to the Perfection they now are in, but to have invented them at once, and a priori would have required more Knowledge and a deeper Insight into the Nature of Fermentation, than the greatest Philosopher has hitherto been endowed with; yet the Fruits of both are now enjoy’d by the meanest of our Species, and a starving Wretch knows not how to make a more humble, or a more modest Petition than by asking for a Bit of Bread or a Draught of Small Beer.

Man has learn’d by Experience, that nothing was softer than the small Plumes and Down of Birds, and found, that heap’d together they would by their Elasticity gently resist any incumbent Weight, and heave up again of themselves as soon as the Pressure is over. To make use of them to sleep upon was, no doubt, first invented to Compliment the Vanity as well as Ease of the Wealthy and Potent, but they are long since become so common, that almost every Body lies upon Featherbeds, and to substitute Flocks in the room of them, is counted a miserable shift of the most Necessitous. What a vast height must Luxury have been arriv’d to before it cou’d be reckon’d a Hardship to repose upon the soft Wool of Animals!

From Caves, Huts, Hovels, Tents and Barracks, with which Mankind took up at first, we are come to warm and well wrought Houses, and the meanest Habitations to be seen in Cities, are regular Buildings contriv’d by Persons skill’d in Proportions and Architecture. If the ancient Britons and Gauls should come out of their Graves, with what Amazement wou’d they gaze on the mighty Structures every where rais’d for the Poor! Should they behold the Magnificence of a Chelsea College,³¹ a Greenwich Hospital, or what surpasses all them, a Des Invalides at Paris, and see the Care, the Plenty, the Superfluities and Pomp which People that have no Possessions at all are treated with in those stately Palaces, those who were once the greatest and richest of the Land would have Reason to envy the most reduced of our Species now.

Another piece of Luxury the Poor enjoy, that is not look’d upon as such, and which there is no doubt but the Wealthiest in a Golden Age would abstain from, is their making use of the Flesh of Animals to eat. In what concerns the Fashions and Manners of the Ages Men live in they never examine into the real Worth or Merit of the Cause, and generally judge of Things not as their Reason, but Custom directs them. Time was when the Funeral Rites in the disposing of the Dead were perform’d by Fire, and the Cadavers of the greatest Emperors were burnt to Ashes. Then burying the Corpse in the Ground was a Funeral for Slaves, or made a Punishment for the worst of Malfactors. Now nothing is decent or honourable but interring, and burning the Body is reserv’d for Crimes of the blackest dye. At some times we look upon Trifles with Horror, at other times we can behold Enormities without Concern. If we see a Man walk with his Hat on in a Church, though out of Service time it shocks us, but if on a Sunday night we meet half a dozen Fellows Drunk in the Street, the Sight makes little or no Impression upon us. If a Woman at a Merrymaking dresses in Man’s Cloaths, it is reckon’d a Frolick among Friends, and he that finds too much Fault with it is counted censorious: Upon the Stage it is done without Reproach, and the most Vertuous Ladies will dispense with it in an Actress, tho’ every Body has a full view of her Legs and Thighs; but if the same Woman, as soon as she has Petticoats on again, should show her Leg to a Man as high as her Knee, it would be a very immodest Action, and every Body will call her impudent for it.

I have often thought, if it was not for this Tyranny which Custom usurps over us, that Men of any tollerable good Nature could never be reconcil’d to the killing of so many Animals for their daily Food, as long as the bountiful Earth so plentifully provides them with varieties of vegetable Dainties. I know that Reason excites our Compassion but faintly, and therefore I would not wonder how Men should so little commiserate such imperfect Creatures as Cray fish, Oysters, Cockles, and indeed all Fish in general: As they are mute, and their inward Formation, as well as outward Figure, vastly different from ours, they express themselves unintelligibly to us, and therefore ’tis not strange that their Grief should not affect our Understanding, which it cannot reach; for nothing stirs us to Pity so effectually, as when the Symptoms of Misery strike immediately upon our Senses, and I have seen People mov’d at the Noise a live Lobster makes upon the Spit, that could have kill’d half a dozen Fowls with Pleasure. But in such perfect Animals as Sheep and Oxen, in whom the Heart, the Brain and Nerves differ so little from ours, and in whom the Separation of the Spirits from the Blood, the Organs of Sense, and consequently Feeling itself, are the same as they are in Human Creatures, I can’t imagine how a Man not hardned in Blood and Massacre, is able to see a violent Death, and the Pangs of it, without Concern.

In answer to this, most People will think it sufficient to say, that all Things being allow’d to be made for the Service of Man, there can be no Cruelty in putting Creatures to the use they were design’d for; but I have heard Men make this Reply, whilst their Nature within them has reproach’d them with the Falshood of the Assertion. There is of all the Multitude not one Man in ten but what will own, (if he was not brought up in a Slaughter-house) that of all Trades he could never have been a Butcher; and I question whether ever any body so much as kill’d a Chicken without Reluctancy the first time. Some People are not to be perswaded to taste of any Creatures they have daily seen and been acquainted with, whilst they were alive; others extend their scruple no further than to their own Poultry, and refuse to eat what they fed and took care of themselves, yet all of them will feed heartily and without Remorse on Beef, Mutton and Fowls, when they are bought in the Market. In this behaviour, methinks, there appears something like a consciousness of Guilt, it looks as if they endeavour’d to save themselves from the Imputation of a Crime (which they know sticks somewhere) by removing the cause of it as far as they can from themselves; and I can discover in it some strong remains of Primitive Pity and Innocence, which all the arbitrary Power of Custom, and the violence of Luxury, have not yet been able to conquer.

What I build upon I shall be told is a Folly that Wise Men are not guilty of: I own it; but whilst it proceeds from a real Passion inherent in our Nature, it is sufficient to demonstrate that we are born with a Repugnancy to the killing, and consequently the eating of Animals; for it is impossible that a natural Appetite should ever prompt us to act, or desire others to do, what we have an aversion to, be it as foolish as it will.

Every body knows, that Surgeons in the Cure of dangerous Wounds and Fractures, the extirpation of Limbs, and other dreadful Operations, are often compell’d to put their Patients to extraordinary Torments, and that the more desperate and calamitous Cases occur to them, the more the outcries and bodily Sufferings of others must become familiar to them; for this Reason our English Law, out of a most affectionate Regard to the Lives of the Subject, allows them not to be of any Jury upon Life and Death, as supposing that their Practice it self is sufficient to harden and extinguish in them that Tenderness, without which no Man is capable of setting a true value upon the Lives of his fellow Creatures. Now if we ought to have no Concern for what we do to Brute Beasts, and there was not imagin’d to be any cruelty in killing them, why should of all Callings Butchers, and only they jointly with Surgeons, be excluded from being Jury men by the same Law?

I shall urge nothing of what Pythagoras and many other Wise Men have said concerning this Barbarity of eating Flesh; I have gone too much out of my way already, and shall therefore beg the Reader, if he would have any more of this, to run over the following Fable, or else, if he be tired, to let it alone, with an assurance that in doing of either he shall equally oblige me.

A Roman Merchant in one of the Carthaginian Wars was cast away upon the Coast of Africk : Himself and his Slave with great difficulty got safe ashoar; but going in quest of Relief, were met by a Lyon of a mighty size. It happened to be one of the Breed that ranged in Æsop’s Days, and one that could not only speak several Languages, but seem’d moreover very well acquainted with Human Affairs. The Slave got upon a Tree, but his Master not thinking himself safe there, and having heard much of the generosity of Lyons, fell down prostrate before him, with all the signs of Fear and Submission. The Lyon, who had lately fill’d his Belly, bids him rise and for a while lay by his Fears, assuring him withal, that he should not be touch’d, if he could give him any tollerable Reasons why he should not be devour’d. The Merchant obey’d, and having now receiv’d some glimmering hopes of safety, gave a dismal account of the Shipwrack he had suffer’d, and endeavouring from thence to raise the Lyon’s Pity pleaded his Cause with abundance of good Rhethorick; but observing by the countenance of the Beast that Flattery and fine Words made very little Impression, he betook himself to Arguments of greater Solidity, and reasoning from the excellency of Man’s Nature and Abilities, remonstrated how improbable it was that the Gods should not have design’d him for a better use than to be eat by Savage Beasts. Upon this the Lyon became more attentive, and vouchsaved now and then a reply, till at last the following Dialogue ensued between them.

Oh Vain and Covetous Animal, (said the Lyon) whose Pride and Avarice can make him leave his Native Soil, where his natural Wants might be plentifully supply’d, and try rough Seas and dangerous Mountains to find out Superfluities, why should you esteem your Species above ours? And if the Gods have given you a Superiority over all Creatures, then why beg you of an Inferior? Our Superiority (answer’d the Merchant) consists not in bodily force but strength of Understanding; the Gods have endued us with a Rational Soul, which, tho’ invisible, is much the better part of us. I desire to touch nothing of you but what is good to eat, but why do you value your self so much upon that part which is invisible? Because it is Immortal, and shall meet with Rewards after Death for the Actions of this Life, and the Just shall enjoy eternal Bliss and Tranquility with the Heroes and Demi-Gods in the Elysian Fields. What Life have you led? I have honoured the Gods, and study’d to be beneficial to Man. Then why do you fear Death, if you think the Gods as just as you have been? I have a Wife and five small Children that must come to want if they lose me. I have two Whelps that are not big enough to shift for themselves, that are in want now, and must actually be starv’d if I can provide nothing for them: Your Children will be provided for one way or other, at least as well when I have eat you as if you had been drown’d.

As to the Excellency of either Species, the value of things among you has ever encreas’d with the scarcity of them, and to a Million of Men there is hardly one Lyon; besides that, in the great Veneration Man pretends to have for his kind, there is little Sincerity farther than it concerns the share which every ones Pride has in it for himself; ’tis a folly to boast of the Tenderness shewn and Attendance given to your young ones, or the excessive and lasting trouble bestow’d in the Education of ’em: Man being born the most necessitous and most helpless Animal, this is only an instinct of Nature, which in all Creatures has ever proportion’d the care of the Parents to the Wants and Imbecilities of the Offspring. But if Man had a real value for his kind, how is it possible that often Ten Thousand of them, and sometimes Ten times as many, should be destroy’d in few hours for the Caprice of two. All degrees of Men despise those that are inferior to them, and if you could enter into the Hearts of Kings and Princes, you would hardly find any but what have less value for the greatest part of the Multitudes they rule over, than those have for the Cattle that belong to them. Why should so many pretend to derive their Race, tho’ but spuriously, from the immortal Gods; why should all of them suffer others to kneel down before them, and more or less take delight in having Divine Honours pay’d them, but to insinuate that themselves are of a more exalted Nature, and a Species superior to that of their Subjects?

Savage I am, but no Creature can be call’d cruel but what either by Malice or Insensibility extinguishes his natural Pity: The Lyon was born without Compassion; we follow the instinct of our Nature; the Gods have appointed us to live upon the waste and spoil of other Animals, and as long as we can meet with dead ones, we never hunt after the Living. ’Tis only Man, mischievous Man, that can make Death a sport, Nature taught your Stomach to crave nothing but Vegetables; but your violent fondness to change, and greater eagerness after Novelties, have prompted you to the Destruction of Animals without Justice or necessity, perverted your Nature and warp’d your Appetites which way soever your Pride or Luxury have call’d them. The Lyon has a ferment within him that consumes the toughest Skin and hardest Bones as well as the Flesh of all Animals with out exception: Your squeamish Stomach, in which the Digestive heat is weak and inconsiderable, won’t so much as admit of the most tender Parts of them, unless above half the Concoction has been perform’d by artificial Fire before hand; and yet what Animal have you spared to satisfy the Caprices of a languid Appetite? Languid I say; for what is Man’s Hunger if compair’d to the Lyon’s: Yours, when it is at the worst, makes you Faint, mine makes me Mad: Oft have I tried with Roots and Herbs to allay the violence of it, but in vain; nothing but large quantities of Flesh can any ways appease it.

Yet the fierceness of our Hunger, notwithstanding Lyons have often requited Benefits received; but ungrateful and perfidious Man feeds on the Sheep that Cloaths him, and spares not her innocent young ones, whom he has taken into his care and custody. If you tell me the Gods made Man Master over all other Creatures, what Tyranny was it then to destroy them out of wantonness? No, fickle timerous Animal, the Gods have made you for Society, and design’d that Millions of you, when well joyn’d together, should compose the strong Leviathan. A single Lyon bears some sway in the Creation, but what is single Man? A small and inconsiderable part, a trifling Atom of one great Beast. What Nature designs she executes, and ’tis not safe to judge of what she purpos’d, but from the effects she shews: If she had intended that Man, as Man from a superiority of Species, should lord it over all other Animals, the Tiger, nay the Whale and Eagle would have obey’d his Voice.

But if your Wit and Understanding exceeds ours, ought not the Lyon in deference to that Superiority to follow the Maxims of Men, with whom nothing is more sacred than that the Reason of the strongest is ever the most prevalent? Whole Multitudes of you have conspired and compass’d the Destruction of one, after they had own’d the Gods had made him their Superior, and one has often ruin’d and cut off whole Multitudes, whom by the same Gods he had sworn to defend and maintain. Man never acknowledg’d Superiority without Power, and why should I? The Excellence I boast of is visible, all Animals tremble at the sight of the Lyon, not out of Panick Fear. The Gods have given me Swiftness to overtake, and Strength to conquer what ever comes near me. Where is there a Creature that has Teeth and Claws like mine; behold the thickness of these massy Jaw bones; consider the width of them, and feel the firmness of this brawny Neck. The nimblest Deer, the wildest Boar, the stoutest Horse, and strongest Bull are my Prey wherever I meet them. Thus spoke the Lyon, and the Merchant fainted away.

The Lyon, in my Opinion, has stretch’d the Point too far; yet when to soften the Flesh of Male Animals, we have by Castration prevented the firmness their Tendons and every Fibre would have come to without it, I confess I think it ought to move a human Creature when he reflects upon the cruel care with which they are fatned for Destruction. When a large and gentle Bullock, after having resisted a ten times greater force of Blows than would have kill’d his Murderer, falls stun’d at last, and his arm’d Head is fasten’d to the Ground with Cords; as soon as the wide Wound is made, and the Jugulars are cut asunder, what Mortal can without Compassion hear the painful Bellowings intercepted by his Blood, the bitter Sighs that speak the sharpness of his Anguish, and the deep sounding Groans with loud anxiety fetch’d from the bottom of his strong and palpitating Heart? Look on the trembling and violent Convulsions of his Limbs; see, whilst his reeking Gore streams from him, his Eyes Lecome dim and languid, and behold his Struglings, Gasps and last efforts for Life, the certain Signs of his approaching Fate? When a Creature has given such convincing and undeniable Proofs of the Terrors upon him, and the Pains and Agonies he feels, is there a follower of Descartes so inur’d to Blood, as not to refute, by his Commiseration, the Philosophy of that vain Reasoner?