forafmuch as in his natural temper he is not disturb'd with fear or forrow; but that many things happen from without, which cannot but give him fome perturbation. Which is as much as to fay, that such a one is not a choleric man, though he happens fometimes to be angry; or that he is not timorous, though he is fometimes afraid; i. e. He is free from the malignity, though not from the paffion of fear. Now, if this be allow'd, frequency will convert fear to vice; and anger once admitted into the breast will quite diffolve the frame of an impaffionate mind. Befides, if a man defpifeth not caufes from without, and is at any time afraid, when he ought boldly to advance against the weapons, and fire of an enemy, for his country, his laws, and liberty, he will but faintly: fet forward, and play the coward in his heart. But a wife man is never fo unfettled in his temper.

WON

This too, I think, is further to be obferv'd, left we should confound two things, which ought to be proved feverally. It is felf-evident that what is right and fit is the one only good; and likewise, that virtue is fufficient to make a man happy. Now if that which is right and fit be the only good, it neceffarily follows, that virtue is fufficient to render life happy. On the contrary, it does not follow, that, if virtue alone can make a man happy, what is right and fit, is the only good Zenocrates and Spenfippus think that a man may be happy (i) by virtue alone; yet that, what is right and fit is not the only good. Epicurus likewife thinks, if a man be virtuous, he may be happy, but yet that virtue itself sufficeth not to make him fo; because the pleasure, that arifeth from virtue, and not virtue itself, may make a man happy. An idle distinction! for Epicurus himself denies that virtue can ever be without pleasure; and if pleasure always attends virtue, and is infeparable from it, virtue is then fufficient of itself; for it carries pleasure with it, and without it, it cannot be virtue, though it be faid to be. alone.

It is also abfurd to fay, (with the academics) that a man may be happy by virtue alone, and yet not perfectly happy. For I cannot fee how this can be poffible. For an happy life contains in itself perfect and infuperable good; and if so, it must be perfectly happy. If the life of the Gods knows

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knows nothing greater or better, and an happy life is a divine life, there is nothing that can exalt it higher. Befides, if an happy life wants nothing, every happy life is perfect; and the fame is happy, most happy. Can you doubt that an happy life is the fovereign good? if then it be the fovereign good, it must be fupremely happy; being fupreme it will admit of no addition, (for what can be higher than the higheft?) and fuch is an happy life, feeing that it wants not the highest good. If you fuppofe any one still more happy, you will make the degrees of the chief good innumerable; whereas I mean by the chief good, that which hath no degree above it. Or, if you fuppofe any one lefs happy, it follows, that he will defire the life of one who is more happy than himself; but the happy man prefers not the life of another, whatever it be, to his own. Both these things are incredible; either, that there is fomething which an happy man wifheth for, more than what he hath; or, that he fhould not with for that which is better than what he himself enjoys. For the wifer or more prudent man is, the more will he extend his views to that which is beft; and defire by all means to obtain it. But how is he an happy man, who ftill defires, or indeed ought to defire, any thing more?

I will fhew you from whence proceeds this error, (in the distinction of happiness). Men know not that there is but one happy life; the quality whereof, not the greatnefs, conftitutes it fuch. Therefore it is the fame thing whether it be long or fhort (k); more diffufed, or parrow; diftributed in many places, and many parts, or contracted in one. He that judgeth of it by number, measure, or parts, deprives it of its chief excellency. For in what confifts the chief excellency of an happy life? In that it is full. The end, fuppofe, of eating and drinking is fatiety; but one eats more, another lefs; what then? they both are fatisfied. One man drinks more, another lefs; what then? they both. have quenched their thirst. One man hath lived many years, another but few; and what then; if many years made the one no happier than a few years did the other? The man you call lefs happy, is not truly happy. This title admits no diminution.

He that is brave knows no fear;

He that is without fear, knows no forrow;

He that knows no forrow, is happy.

K 2

Thus

Thus argue the Stoics; to which fome endeavour to reply, faying, that it is begging the question to affirm that a brave man knows no fear. For why? fay they, will not a brave man be afraid of imminent danger? not to fear in fuch a cafe is the part of a madman, and of one out of his fenfes, not of a brave man. He indeed fears, but in a moderate degree, as it is impoffible, in fuch a cafe, to be abfolutely void of fear. Now they that fay this, fall again into the fame abfurdity, to take the less flagrant vices for virtues. For he that fears indeed, however feldom or in a fmall degree, is not free from paffion, though not greatly troubled therewith. But is he not afraid of imminent danger? Yes, I own he is, if they are real evils that he fears; but if he knows them not to be evils, and judgeth rightly, that a bafe and vile action is the only evil he ought to fear, he will look down upon danger undauntedly, and despise such things as the generality of people are apt to dread: or if it is the part of a fool or a madman not to fear evils, the wifer and more prudent a man is, the more will he be afraid of them.

will thrust himself he will avoid it. What then? fay they;

But, fay they, according to your opinion a wife man into danger. No; though he will not fear danger, Caution becomes him, though fear does not. fhall he not fear death, chains, fire, and other hoftile darts of malignant fortune? No; for he knows that thefe are evils but in appearance only. He looks upon these things as the bugbears of human life. Set before him, captivity, stripes, chains, want; the racking of the limbs, either by disease or violence, and what elfe of this kind you are pleased to name; he numbers them all in the lift of imaginary fears; to be dreaded only by a coward mind.

For can you think that an evil, which we must fometimes fuffer voluntarily? You ask then what is evil? To yield to those things that are commonly called evils; to give up our liberty itself rather than endure them; even that liberty for whofe fake we ought to endure every thing. There is an end of liberty, if we defpife not those things that bend us to the yoke. These very men would no longer doubt what a valiant man ought to do, if they but knew what true valour is. For,

it is not an unadvised rashness, nor a love of danger, nor a thirst after terrible enterprizes; no; it is a science that distinguishes good from evil; it is a noble fortitude, that is ever diligent in felf-defence; and at the fame time most patiently endureth those things (1), if necessarily required, that carry a falfe appearance of evil. What then? if the fword be brandished over the head of a brave man; or, if first one, then another part of his body, be pierced through; if his bowels tumble out. before him; if, at intervals, to encrease his torment, he is fmitten again and again, and the blood is made to flow afresh from the wounds, that are fcarce dry; will you fay that in fuch a cafe a man will not fear, will not feel pain? There is no doubt but that he feels pain, for no virtuel deprives a man of his feeling; but yet he fears not; while with an invincible heart he looks down, as it were, from on high, on his pains. And do you ask, how his mind is difpofed at fuch a time? why the fame as when they take upon them to exhort and counfel a fick friend.

What is evil burts a man, and what hurts a man makes him worse;

But pain and poverty make not a man worse;

Therefore, Pain and poverty are no evils.

Thus, again, the Stoics. To which it is answered, that the major propofition is falfe: for a thing may hurt a man, and yet not make him worfe: form and tempeft hurt the pilot, or master of a ship, but they make him not a worse pilot. And to this fome of our Stoics reply; ftom and tempeft really make him worfe; forafmuch as he cannot effect his purpose, nor hold on his course: he is not made worse as to his skill, but only as to the exertion of it.-To which rejoins the Peripatetic, Therefore pain, and poverty, and the like, make a wife man the worfe; forafmuch though they take not his virtue from him, they hinder the operation of it.

And this indeed would be faying fomething, if the state of a pilot, and of a wife man, were alike in all refpects. It is not in the purpose of a wife man, to effect that infallibly which he effayeth to do, in the transactions of life; but it is the purpose of a pilot to carry his fhip into the defigned haven. The Arts are fervants, and ought to perform

what

1

what they promife; but Wisdom is a mistress and governess. The arts administer to life, but wisdom governs it. I think it proper therefore to give a different answer, and affirm, that neither the skill of a pilot is rendered worse by a storm, nor even the administration of it. For why? The pilot did not promise you a profperous voyage, but only his endeavour for it, by his skill in navigating the fhip: and fuch his skill is more apparent, the more any casual force oppofeth it. He that could fay, O Neptune, nunquam hanc navem nifi rectam, O Neptune, the fhip was always right (m), hath done all that was in the power of art to do. The tempeft does not hinder the work of the pilot, though it may prevent fuccefs. What then? you will fay, does not fuch an accident hurt the pilot, which forbids him to reach the defigned haven; which renders all his endeavours ineffectual; which carries him back, or defpoils him of his implements? No; it hurts him not as a pilot, any more than as a mariner, and is so far from hindring him, that, as before observed, it fhews his fkill. For in a calm, as they fay, every mariner is a pilot. The perfon of a pilot must be confidered in two respects; the one, as common with all that are aboard the fame fhip; and the other as peculiar to himself under the character of a pilot. Now, the storm hurts him as a passenger, but not as a pilot. Besides, the art of a pilot is an external good; it is for the fervice of the whole crew; as the art of the phyfician is for the good of his patients. But wisdom is a common good, of service both to the wife man himself and to all that are converfant with him. A pilot therefore may be hurt, whofe promised service to others is hindered by a storm; but a wife man is not hurt by poverty, by pain, or other the like ftorms of life. For he is not prevented in all actions relating to himself, though may be in fuch as relate to others: he is always in the sphere of action; and then fhews himself greatest, when Fortune the more oppreffeth him; then indeed is he employed in the work of wisdom itfelf, which we before obferved to be good; and of confequence both to himself and others.

he

Moreover, however he may be oppreffed himself by cruel neceffities, he is not hereby prevented from being serviceable to others. Poverty

(or