A Dialogue BETWEEN Timothy and Philautus.

WELL met Philautus, how does your best self this morning: What, stout and hearty?

I take care of my self, Sir, my body is pretty well, I thank you.

Then all is well, I sup­pose.

Yes truly in my opinion, all is well, when that is so.

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In your opinion? Why: doe not all count that well which you count well: or are you a man by your self?

I am just what you see me to be. But some people I find, have two men to take care of; an out­ward man, and an inward man: for my part. I am able to maintain but one; and if I can shift it, that shall take no hurt, for want of look­ing after. But I begg your pardon, Sir, for I know you not.

No matter for that: come, shall we take a turn or two in the Walks?

No, I thank you, unless I knew your tricks better: you may chance to get behind me, and bite me by the Legs. Let them take a turn with you that have not search'd into the fundamental Laws of hu­mane nature, and the first rise of Cities and Societies. I know bet­ter things than to trust my self with one that I never saw before. I have but one body, and I de­sire [Page 3] to carry it home all to my cham­ber.

You had better I profess, have no body at all; or compound to be kick'd and beaten twice a day; than to be thus dismally tortur'd, and solicitous about an old rotten carcase.

Come, come: you talk like a young man. Let me tell you the body is a very precious thing: and when you can make me believe o­therwise, who have poised King­doms, counted up all the advantages of bodily strength, and am throughly acquainted with all the humours and passions of mankind, then will I stay with you, and venture a kicking. And so farewell.

I beseech you, Sir, stay a little: upon my honour I intend no­thing but a walk, and civill dis­course.

I know no honour any man has but an acknowledgement of his power and greatness: So that all the security that I have that you will [Page 4] not injure me is, that you can cer­tainly do it, if you have a mind to't. And therefore, I pray, doe so much as take your honour along with you into that other walk, or else I shall crie out murder. I don't care for trusting my self with un­known honour.

Then as I am a Gentleman, and my name is Timothy, I doe not intend you the least mis­chief.

What, Sir, doe you take me for a fool? doe not I know that a Gentleman is one that keeps a man to quarrel, fight, beat and a­buse? You must not think to catch old Birds with Chaffe. And there­fore once more farewell M ^r Timothy, if your name be so.

I pray, Sir, be not gon yet; upon my honesty and as I am a Christian you shall suffer no hurt.

Now indeed you have mend­ed the business much: what, is there ever an Act of Parliament a­gainst your beating me particular­ly? [Page 5] and if there be, where's the Constable, to put it in executi­on?

Well: I see I must discover my self, or nothing is to be done: I am, Sir, to put you out of all doubt then, a relation of a great friend of yours. Doe you know this Picture, Sir [...]

Indeed I think I did once al­most see some such thing or some­thing a little like it, in his study, a great while ago, if my eyes, memo­ry, and the rest of my faculties doe not [...]ail me.

So then, now I hope you are past all feares. Therefore if you will, we'l walk towards Lambs Conduit: there's better aire.

I profess, Sir, you make m [...] shake most horribly. There's a word indeed next one's heart! I much question whether I shall eat again these two dayes. If you'l forbear all such language, and keep close to your own side, and not look be­hind you, I'le venture to take two [Page 6] or three turnes with you: other­wise I shall leave your company forthwith.

Most certainly, Philautus, you are the most wary, mistrust­ful and suspicious creature, now living upon the face of the whole earth.

I thank my Stars, I have had some time to look into Histo­ries: and I have made some observa­tions of my own: and I find they ve­ry much tend to my good and welfare. In short, I think I know as well as another, what man can doe, and what is his full value.

Surely you are not made of the ordinary mortal mould, but of some peculiar thin and brittle stuff; or else you would never talk thus.

Your pleasure for that. I only say what I said before; I think, I know what is that which all wise men ought to cherish, refresh, make much of, love and regard.

Still, Philautus, I understand [Page 7] you not. What, have you been of­ten affronted, abused, choused, [...]re­pann'd, flung down stairs, tossed in a blanket—

No, I'le assure thee, Tim, I have alwayes kept (as they say) out of harme's way, as much as could be: especially since I studied mo­rals, and understood the true price of a whole man.

What should be the business then? is it that you are descended of some very timorous family; or was your mother buried alive, with two sucking children? Come, Sir, be free: for I am confident there must be some occasion or other of this so very great jealousie, and mis­trustfullness of yours.

Then as a secret, Tim, I must tell thee, that men nuturally are all [...]venous and currish, of a very snar­ling and biting nature; to be short, they are in themselves mere Wolves, Tygers and Centaures.

Heavens forbid! what are you and I Wolves, Tygers and Centaures.

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You may start at it for the present, but when you have read as much, observ'd as much, and con­sidered as much, as I, you'l find it to be as true, as that I have a pair of boots.

Methinks honest Tim has no mind at all to be a Centaure; he had much rather be a sheep, a Pi­geon, a Lark or any such pretty tame thing, if you can afford it. And now in the name of all that's good, I hope you doe not mistake and call that humane nature in ge­nerall, which is only your own; measuring all moral actions there­by, and pronouncing that all mens teeth are very long and sharp, be­cause you find your own to be so.

Why should you suspect me to be more peevish, surly, and worse natur'd than other men, and so re­commend or impose my own temper and inclinations upon the world as a general standard?

I am very loath, Philautus, [Page 9] to accuse any man of bad nature: it being such a great bundle of mis­chief in it self, and so very trouble­some to the Comon-wealth. But when I find one so very tender and studi­ous of his own wellfare and plea­sure, so little concern'd for any mans good but his own, so great an ad­mirer of his own humour and opi­nions, so ready to call things demon­strations that doe not at all, or very weakly prove, and so apt to vilifie and under-value, to hate and raile at three quarters of the Cr [...]a­tion, (if they stand in his way and give him not due honour and re­spect) I am very much afraid that such a [...]one when he comes to talk of the general disposition of man­kind, of the best and most funda­mental lawes of life, government and Religion, will consult a little too much his own sweet Elephants tooth, and the wamblings of his own dear bowels.

I shall not now stand to vin­dicate, much less boost of my own [Page 10] temper. It is well known that I have kept company with Gentlemen, and Persons of Honour; and they are able to judge what humour and carriage is decent and allowable better than all the Timothies in the Nation. I pre­thee, Tim, What's the difference be­tween a Bustard and a Chevin?

I love our Nation, and all men in it so well, that I wish they had given you less entertainment; it had been more for their honour and cre­dit; and the good of this Realm.

That is somewhat enviously said. I hope you'l give people leave to keep the best and most improving Company: Would you have them die in mistakes, and not listen to those that lay down the plainest Truths, give best proof of them, and in the purest English.

Nay, hold you there; be not proud of your company, Prose­lytes and discoveries: for I [...]carce know one person of sobriety and parts in the whole Nation, that is hea [...]titly of your opinion, in any [Page 11] thing wherein you differ from what is commonly taught and received: for most of those that talk over those places of your Books, wherein you are singular, do it either out of hu­mour, or because they are already debauch'd, or intend to be so, as soon as they can shake off all modesty and good nature, and can furnish them­selves with some of your little slen­der Philosophical pretences to be wicked.

Then indeed I have spent my time finely, and studied to much purpose. But methinks, Tim, thou art very peremptory for one of thy years. It becomes gray haires, and a staff to lean on, to be thus dogma­tical.

I care not for that; for if need be, I can be peremptory and do [...]matical without a staff; especi­ally when I meet with one that is so incurably immodest.

What then, will you main­tain that I have discovered nothing at all? Is nothing true that I have [Page 12] said in my several Books? I am sure my Works have sold very well, and have been generally read and ad­mir'd. And I know what Mersen­nus and Gassendus have said con­cerning my Book de Cive; but I shall not speak of that now.

And, to say nothing now of Mersennus: I know what people have said of Gassendus; but I shall let that go also now.

But surely you cannot deny but there is somewhat true and con­siderable in my Writings.

O doubtless a great deal of them is true; but that which is so, is none of yours; but common ac­knowledg'd things new phrased, and trim'd up with the words power, fear, City, transferring of right, and the like; and such is most of that part of your Book, called Dominion; which chief­ly consists of such things as have been said these thousand years, and would follow from any other Princi­ples, as well as yours.

You may talk what you will, [Page 13] and if I were sure you would not beat me, I'd tell you right down that you lye.

Do so; that's as good for me as your humble servant: but I go on, and say, that Monarchy is the best Government; that it is the duty of Princes to respect the common benefit of many, not the peculiar interest of this or that man; that Eloquence without discretion is troublesome in a Common-wealth; that he that has power to make Laws, should take care to have them known; that to have Souldiers, Arms, Garrisons, and mo­ney in readiness in times of Peace is necessary for the peoples defence, and a thousand such things I might repeat out of the forementioned place, which were true many Ages before Philautus was born, and will be, let a man be [...] or not [...], Mouse or Lion. But it is an easie matter to scatter up and down some little insinuations of the state of na­ture, self preservation, and such like fundamental phrases, which to those [Page 14] that do but little attend, shall seem to make all hang close together.

Why do you only say seem, &c? I perceive now that you are not only very confident, but spightful too, and have a mind to lessen my credit.

No indeed; I do not envy you in the least; but I very much wonder at those that will disparage themselves so much, as to be led a­way with any such small and mani­fest cheats: and if you'l promise me not to be dejected (which I think I need not much fear; for I never knew a man so much beyond all humiliation in my life;) I'le briefly shew you the chief of those things, by which you became famous. But hold, Sir, we forgot to look un­derneath the bench; there may lie a Wolf that may quite spoil us.

Say you so?

Come, come, Sir, no hurt at all: I pray sit down again: I had only a mind to see how nimble you were; I perceive you jump ve­ry [Page 15] well for an old man; and there­fore I proceed, and say in the first place, that one way by which you got a kind of a name amongst some easie sort of people, was by crowd­ing into your Book all that you could pick out of Civil Law, Politicks, and Morals: and then jumbling alltoge­ther (as was before hinted) with fre­quent mention of power, fear, self defence, and the like; as if it had been all your own.

This is very pertly said, if you could make it good.

'Tis so very plain, as I need not: however if any body doubts of it, let him but read over your eighth and ninth Chapters of Domi­nion, which contain the Rights of Lords over their servants, and of Parents over their children; and if he find any thing considerable more than what is commonly delivered in the ordinary Civil Law-Books upon that occasion, viz. de potestate Pa­rent [...]m & Dominoru [...] (except it be that a great Family is a Kingdom, and [Page 16] a little Kingdom a Family) I'le be­come an earnest spreader of your fame, and have you recorded for a great discoverer. And so in like manner it might be easily shewn, how all the rest (so much of it as is true) is the very same with the old plain Dunstable stuff that commonly occurrs in those that have treated of Policy and Morality: in so much, that I do not question, but that poor despicable Eustachius may come in for a good share. Now, Philautus, because it has so happened that some young Gentlemen have not been at leisure to look much into Machiavel, Iustinian, and such like Books; but yet, for no good reasons have been tempted to read yours; these presently are ready to pronounce you the prodigy of the Age, and as very a deviser, as if you had found out gun-powder, or printing.

If thou hast a mind to rail, Tim, I advise thee to stay till thou hast discretion to do it. What wouldest thou expect in a discourse [Page 17] of Government, a trap to catch Sun­beams, or a purse-net for the Moon? I grant, that the chief heads I in­sist on, have been largely treated on by others: but the method, con­trivance and phrase is all my own; do so much as consider of that poor Tim.

I need not consider of it now, because I have done it oftimes heretofore; and it puts me in mind of another thing, by which you have cheated some into an opinion of you, viz. You take old common things, and call them by new affected names, and then put them off for dis­coveries.

I profess, Tim, I expect to see thee hang'd some time or other for thy crossness: Where is it that I do any such thing?

If I were at leasure, I could shew you an hundred several places: What think you, Philautus, of the Scriptures being the word of God?

I think, as others do, that they are.

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What need then was there of that, in your Third Chapter de Cive; the Sacred Scripture is the Speech of God commanding over all things by greatest right? It sounds, I must confess, somewhat statelily: So does that in your Leviathan, p. 1 [...].) the general use of speech is to transfer our mental discourse into verbal; or the train of our thought into a train of words: And also that; Religion conteins the Laws of the Kingdom of God: It had been nothing to have said that Religi­on teaches how God will be serv'd; but the Kingdom of God is a new Notion, if the word Law does but lie near at hand: So to have said that somnia sunt phantasmata dormientium, or that Tempus was Phantasma corporis, &c. had been old: but go thus; Phantasma­ta dormientium appello somnia, and Phantasma corporis, &c. appello tempus: and then by vertue of the word ap­pello, and the stately placing of it, it becomes all your own.

And is not appello a good word, you Timothy sause-box? I cannot for­bea [...].

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Yes, may it please your wor­ship, 'tis almost as good as pronuncio; but it is never a whit the better for standing at the latter end of a sen­tence (which I find an hundred times over in your Books) only to dis­guise a little what every body has said.

I do very much wonder, Tim, where thou didst pick up all this im­pudence, being so young.

My Grandam, Sir, I thank her, gave me a little, and wished me to use it upon occasion; but most of it I got by keeping company with some of your admirers.

Surely thou wilt go to the Devil, if any such thing there be.

But before I go, Sir, I must desire those that are not satisfied con­cerning the truth of what I just now mentioned, to look a little into your Logick; and if they do not there find a whole Book full of nothing but new words; I'le promise you to be very towardly for the future, and as modest as the meekest of your disci­ples: [Page 20] and therefore, in the first place, I do, in your name, decree, that in all following Ages Logick shall not be called Logick, but Computation; be­cause that ratiocinor signifies not only to reason, but to count or reckon; and rationes the same with computa: and therefore let the art of reasoning be called the art of computation or counting: of which there be two parts; addition and substraction; to add being all one as to affirm, and to substract all one as to deny from whence also I do establish a Syllogisme to be nothing else but the collection of a Summ, or aggregate: the major and minor Propositions being the par­ticulars, and the Conclusion the summ or aggregate of those particulars.

And what fault can you find with all this? is it not all new? did ever any of the Philosophers say so before?

No truly; nor was there ever any need that they should say so: for let people call the two first Propositions either plainly Propo­sitions, [Page 21] or Ingredients or Elements, or Premises, or Principles, or Pream­bles, or Prologues, or go befores, or particulars, or any thing else, so that I do but understand their meaning, and Timothy is as well contented as any man alive.

Why then do you snear, as if you dislik'd my Logick?

'Tis a most excellent compu­tation as ever was written: There's a definition of causa (which in the se­cond Page we are learnt to call gene­ration) that is alone worth a pound at least; viz. Causaest summa sive ag­gregatum accidentium omnium tam in agentibus, quam in patiente, ad pro­positum effectum concurrentium, quibus omnibus existentibus effectum non ex­istere, vel quolibet eorum uno absente existere, intelligi non potest. A Cause is a certain pack or aggregate of trangams, which being all packed up and chorded close together, they may then truly be said in Law to constitute a compleat and essential pack: but if any one trangam be [Page 22] taken out or missing, the pack then presently loses its packishness, and cannot any longer be said to be a pack.

And now what aile you with this definition? Is not the true noti­on and perfect Idaea of a cause very necessary? and is not this, that I have laid down, full, exact, and com­pleat?

So very full, Sir, that if you had gon on but a little further, it would have served for a Catalogue of the great Turk's Dominions: but I hope you will not take it ill, if I forget it: because I promised my self long ago to that little short Gen­tleman — cujus vi res est. You have also, Sir, another very magni­ficent one of a Proposition; which I care not much if I bestow upon the Emperour: viz. Propositio est oratio constans ex duobus nominibus copula­tis, quâ significat is qui loquitur, con­cipere se, nomen posterius ejusdem rei nomen esse, cujus est nomen prius; which agrees very well with what [Page 23] Zacutus saies in his Treatise of a Spoon, which he thus defines. In­strumentum quoddam concavo-con­vexum, quo posito in atiquod, in quo aliud quo ddam diversum à posito, an­te positum fuit, & retro posito in os ponentis, concipitur is, qui posuit pri­mum positum in secundum, ex his posi­tis aliquid concludere. These and the like are only for huge Potentates: but if any private Gentleman has a mind to be informed in the just, ad­aequate and perfect conception of an interrogation and a request, let him take them thus: Interrogationes sunt o­rationes quae desiderium significant cog­noscendi; as, what's a clock? Precationes sunt orationes quae desideriū significant aliquid habendi; as, give me an apple.

Surely thou art broken loose out of Hell, to quarrel thus upon no grounds. What is it that thou would'st have in a Logick?

Those that have nothing else to do but to put in a few new phrases (under pretence of notions and discoveries) and to alter per­haps [Page 24] the place of two or three Chap­ters, I would not have them trouble the world with Logick, or any thing else. For as my Lord Bacon wisely observes, nothing has more hindred the growth of Learning than peo­ples studying of new words, and spending their time in chaptring, modelling, and marshalling of Sci­ences.

Then it seems I must learn of you how to spend my time. What, Tim, would'st thou have me goe to School again?

You may doe as you will for that; but you know Doctor Wallis thought you had sufficient need of it long ago.

Come, Tim, I prethee tell me one thing, and tell me true: hast not thou been lately amongst some of my Scholars, and lamentably baffled and run down by them? and does not this make thee fret and fume, and dislike all that I have written? I am confident, so it is: for otherwise thou couldst not but [Page 25] be of their opinion, who discern and declare, that they never per­ceiv'd such connexion of things, and such close argning, as I have in all things given the world an instance of.

You have now said that which I wish'd and watch'd for: Because it gives me opportunity of mentioning another device you make use of to deceive people, and get applause; viz. you get together a company of words, such as power, fear, and the like (as was said before) and thrust these into every page upon one pretence or other; and then you call this connexion, and boast (as you doe in your Preface de Cive) that there is but one thing in all your Book, which you have not demon­strated.

I hope you will not betray your judgment so much, as to find fault with my language, which all the world admire: Are there any words more truly English and natural than pow­er, fear, &c.

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Questionless they are very good words, when rightly made use of: but to hale them in where there is no need at all, meerly to carry on the great work of power and fear, and by a forc'd repetition thereof, to make thence a seeming connexion (with reverence be it spoken) is very idle and imperti­nent. It seemes to me to savour very much of their humours, who fall wofully in love with some cer­tain numbers. One he is sorely smitten with the complexion and features of the number four. And so he calls presently for his four Inns of Courts, his four Terms, his four seasons of the year, and abundance of fours besides. Nay, the senses are also his; for smelling is only a gentiler way of feeding. Another tears his haire, and is raving mad for the number three: and then the Inner Temple and Middle are the same, for they are both Temples; Easter Term and Trinity Term differ but a few days; Spring and Autumn are [Page 27] all one, and rather than he'l ac­knowledge above three senses, he'l split his mouth up to his ears.

what dost think, Tim, that I have nothing else to doe, but to hear thee tattle over a company of foppish Similitudes? if thou hast a mind to talk, child, speak sence, if thou canst; and learn of me to rea­son closely.

You are a most speciall pat­tern for reasoning indeed: one may plainly see that, by what you say in the tenth Chapter of your Levi­athan, and in the eighth of your Humane nature; where you fall in­to a great rapture of the excellen­cies of power; making every thing in the whole world that is good, worthy and honourable, to be pow­er: and nothing is to be valued or respected but upon the accompt of power.

And is not power a very good thing?

A most excellent thing! I know nothing like it but the Philo­phers [Page 28] stone: for it does all things, and is all things, either at present, or here­tofore, or afterward. Thus Beauty is honourable, as a precedent sign of pow­er generative: and actions proceeding from strength are honourable, as signs consequent of power motive. Now if faculty had come in there instead of power, it would not have done so well. Again, riches are honourable as signs of the power that acquired them; & gifts, cost, & magnificence of houses are honourable, &c. as signes of riches. A Mathematician is honourable because if he brings his knowledg into pra­ctice, he is able to raise powerful for­tifications, and to make powerful en­gines and instruments of war. A pru­dent man is honourable, because he is powerfull in advice: and a person of good natural wit, and judgment is ho­nourable, because it signifies strong parts and powers. In short, Sir, I per­ceive there is nothing either in acti­ons or speeches, in Arts or Sciences, in wit or judgment, in man, woman or child that is good & valuable, but [Page 29] it is all upon the accompt of power.

I defy thee, if thou goest a­bout to make any thing that I have said ridiculous.

No: I need not: because you have already done it to my hand; for with such tricks and de­vices as these, I'le undertake to make a flageolet the most dreadfull and powerful thing upon the face of the whole earth. For it either shall be powerful in it self, or re­commend me to the favour of those that have power, or be a defence against power, or it shall hire and purchase power, or be in the road to power, or be in the road to power, or a signe of powe [...] or a sign of somewhat that is a sign of power. And such things as these, Philautus, you call close connexion, and demonstration, which are no­thing else but a company of small cheats, and jingling fetches.

Before I goe any further, Tim, I doe pronounce thee to be the most saucy of all that belong to the whole race of mankind. For [Page 30] thou railest at a venture; and dost only skip up and down my wri­tings, as if thou didst intend to pick my pocket. If thou resolvest to continue in this Humour, and to think thy self worthy to speak in my ancient and Philosophical pre­sence, let's pitch upon some funda­mental point, such as, Status natu­rae est status belli; and thou shalt see that thou art ten times more an Owle, than I am a cheat and Iing­ler.

And I pray, Sir, may I be so bold, which side doe you intend to hold?

Which side? that's a questi­on very fit indeed for a Timothy to ask. I hold that side that all Wise, Sage, Learned and Dis­creet men in the whole world doe hold.

I am sorry, Sir, that I have disturbed you: but I must pray once again to know which that is.

I am asham'd to tell thee: It [Page 31] is such a very silly question. I doe hold then, that all men naturally are Bears, Dragons, Lyons, Wolves, Rogues, Raskalls—

I beseech you, Sir, hold no more: there's enough for any one man to hold. I remember, Philau­tus, you told me ā while ago that all men by nature were doggish, spightfull and treacherous. But I thought you had only said it, because you found your self so inclin'd, or in jest to scare me.

What dost think that I studied fourty or fifty years; only to find out and maintain a jest? dost think that the happiness and se­curity of all the Kingdoms of the Earth depend upon a jest? Thou art a very pretty fellow to discourse withall indeed!

I pray, Sir, by your fa­vour, how came it about that it was not found out by former Philoso­phers that all men as well as your self, are naturally brutish, and raven­ous?

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I wonder, you'l come over so often with as well as your self, when I have so plainly told you, that it is naturally so with all men.

Nay, Sir, be not angry; I have so often heard an old story of [...], and of the great worth of Pythagoras, Plato, Aristotle, Epicte­tus, and Tully, that I much wonder at your Doctrine.

Then, upon my word, you have heard a very story of a tub, and of a company of children, fools, sotts, and dunces.

Enough, enough.

But I say, not enough: And if you'l hold your prating, I'le shew you how it came about, that the morals and politicks that have been written since the creation (as they call it) of the world, were not all worth a rush, till I set forth mine.

I'le not speak again this half hour, if you'l but make out this handsomly.

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It was thus then: they went in a wrong method, they took things for granted that were lyes, and did not so much as consult common Hi­story and experience.

I profess, Philautus, this seems to go to the v [...]ry bottom of the business. I long to hear this as much as ever poor child did for the teat: in the first place, you say, they did not use a right method: wherein, I pray, did they faile?

They should have done as I did; they should have search'd into the humours, dispositions, passi­ons, and heart of mankind.

And did you, Sir, find there written Status naturae est status belli: as 'tis said Calis was upon Queen Marie's?

I perceive thou beginnest to prate again. Hast thou seen a lit­tle Book of mine called Humane Na­ture.

Yes, I think so.

You may easily know it; 'tis called Humane Nature, or the [Page 34] fundamental Elements of Policy.

'Tis so: and you might have call'd it as well Tu qu [...]que, or the jealous Lovers, or the fundamental Lawes of catching of Quailes, as of Policy.

Did you not promise me to be modest, and [...] to prate? does this become you? goe home and look in the glass.

Why? have you discoursed me into a Bear? I tell you, Sir, I have read over that same little Book called Humane Nature; and whereas you'd make the Reader believe, by the title, that he should find such strange fundamentals of Policy, and (as you there add) according to philosophical principles not commonly known or asserted; there's not a word of any more fundamentals, than is to be found in Iack Seton, Stierius or Magirus; besides some small mater that was shirk'd up in France from some of Cartes's acquaintance, and spoyled in the telling. I say, as for all [Page 35] the rest, Philautus, it is as common, as the Kings high way; only ac­cording to you usual manner, you labour much to disguise it with your own phrases, and to displace words to cheat children.

Why doe you talk thus?

For no reason at all but only because it is true. Thus we know that old Arstotle, and his dull soakers understood no further of the great mysteries of the senses, and their several objects; but only bluntly to say, that sense was a kind of knowledge occas [...]oned by some out­ward thing, &c. and that an object is a thing that causes that knowledge: and that colour is the object of the eye, and that sound is the object of the ear. But when Philautus comes to Town, he brings us news to pur­pose: informing us, that all con­ception proceeds from the action of the thing it self, whereof it is the con­ception; and when the action is pre­sent, the conception it produceth is called sense: (there called stands [Page 36] in the right place) and the thing by whose action the same is produced, is Called the object of the sense. (That's well placed again:) And that by sight we have a conception of colour, which is all the notice and knowledge the object imparteth to us of its nature by the eye. This ra­vishes! and by hearing we have a conception called sound, which is all the knowledge we have of the qua­lity of the object from the ear. Now who would not immediately spurr forth as far as Dover to meet a Phi­losopher that should bring home such rarities as these.

if thou shouldst set out, Tim, thou wouldst be set in the stocks, before thou gettest to Rochester bridge for undervaluing worth.

You talk, Philautus, of your Humane Nature containing the Ele­ments of Policy; there's one cunning reflexion (p. 5.) concerning ima­gination, which is so full of novel­ty and subtilty, that it is enough alone to set up a man for chief Mi­nister [Page 37] of State, viz. that the absence or destruction of things once imagi­ned, doth not cause the absence or destruction of the imagination it self.

Why, does it?

No: For suppose I have a House in Cheapside, which I have some­times seen, and sometimes imagi­ned; according as I was best at lea­sure; and this house, upon a day, either runs away from me or I from that; yet still I may phansy my self trading in my own shop, and eat­ing in my own House: nay though it should be burnt down to the very ground; yet for a need I can make shift once or twice a year to phansie it still standing, or at least to wish that it were. And surely upon this is founded that old friend­ly saying, viz. though absent in bo­dy, yet present in mind.

And is it not a good say­ing?

Yes, it is pretty good, but no­thing near so enlightning as your en­largement [Page 38] thereupon. For by that you make out the whole business to be as plain as can be: and so you doe another thing, which I have often wondred at. I have seen sometimes a man set up his staffe in the middle of a great field, and a while after, he has gon back, and put up a Hare. I had a kind of a ghessing how this might possi­bly be; but durst never be con­fident, till I was made happy by that ample and satisfactory definition you give of a mark p. 44. A mark (say you) is a sensible object which a man erecteth volutarily to him­self, to the end to remember there­by somewhat past, when the same is objected to his sense again.

Why doe you laugh, Tim? there's nothing left out, is there?

Not in the least: it will doe, I'le undertake, for the tall­est May-pole in the whole Nation.

But for all that I am confi­dent, Tim, that thou dost not ap­prove of it throughly.

[Page 39]

I must not, Sir, lay out all my approbation hereupon; because there's abundance more of such fine things (were I at leasure to look them out) that doe also highly deserve to be approved of. Who would not save a good large corner of his heart, for such an accurate accompt as you give (p. 35.) of an experiment, viz. the remembrance of succession of one thing to another, that is, of what antecedent has been followed by what Consequent, is Called an experiment. As if I put my finger into a Pike's mouth, to see if he can bite; my finger is the Antecedent, and if he bites, there's a Consequent for my Antecedent: which, I suppose, Phi­lautus, I should remember, and ac­cording to your directions call it an experiment. I hope also that I shall never forget what you tell me p. 80. where speaking of Musick and sounds you lay down this [...]d­mirable and standing de [...]inition of an aire, viz. an aire is a pleasure of sounds, which consisteth in conse­quence [Page 40] of one note after another, diversified both by accent and mea­sure.

Surely, Tim, thou begin­nest to be mad: is it not very just, and very punctual?

Truly, Sir, I know nothing comparable to it, and what you said before about an experiment, for ab­solute exactness, except it be what the above mentioned Zacutus says concerning a teame of Links in his sixth Chapter of minc'd meats: a Teame of Linkes (says he) is a cer­tain train of oblong termes, where the consequent of the first is concatenated to the antecedent of the second, and the consequent of the second to the an­tecedent of the third, &c. So that every terme, in the whole train, is both antecedent and consequent.

You don't seem to like these same antecedents and conse­quents, Tim.

A little of them, Sir, now and then I like very well, especially when they are brought in so natu­rally [Page 41] as they are by Zacutus. But when any such words are needless­ly forced upon me, I have enough of them for I know not how long after. I once, Sir, got such an horri­ble surfeit with a long story of Conse­quences, in a Scheme of yours con­cerning the Sciences (Lev. p. 40.) that my stomach has scarce stood right towards Consequences ever since.

What, doe you find fault to see all kind of knowledge lie fairely before your eyes?

I have seen it Sir, several times, but all the art is in the catch­ing: and I count my self never a whit the nearer, for being told, as I am there by you; that Science is the knowledge of all kind of Conse­quences: which is also called Philosophy. And Consequences from the accidents of bodys natural is called natural philoso­phy. And Consequences from accidents of politick bodies, is called Politicks or civil philosophy. And Consequences from the stars, Astronomy: Consequen­ces [Page 42] from the Earth, Geography: Con­sequences from vision, Opticks: Conse­quences from sounds, Musick. And so Consequences from the rest are to be called the rest. I profess Philautus, These same Consequences did so terri­bly stick in my head, that for a long while after, I was ready to call every body that I met, Consequence.

And now, as nice as you are, Mr. Timothy, I pray let me hear you define any of those things better: come, hold up your head, and like a Philosopher tell me, what's Geo­graphy.

Alas! Sir, I know nothing of it, but only I have heard people say, it is about the earth.

About the earth! What dost mean, round about the earth?

Yes, Sir, if you please, round about, and quite through, and about and about again; any thing will serve my turn.

So I thought, by that little knowledge which I perceive will sa­tisfie thee. But I prethee, Tim, how [Page 43] came we to ramble thus from the state of war?

We have been alll this while close at it, Sir: for if you remember, I was to shew you (which I think I have done) that the old Philosophers might have written as well concern­ing Politicks, as your self; notwith­standing you call your humane na­ture the fundamental Elements of Po­licy; in which there's nothing at all towards any such purpose, except it be in the title, and at the end of the Book, where there stands these words (Conclusion being written over them) viz. Thus have we considered the nature of man, so far as was requi­site for the finding out the first and most simple Elements wherein the com­position of Politick Rules and Laws are lastly resolved; which conclusion ho­nest Will. Lilly might e'en as well have set to the end of his Grammar, as you have done to your Humane nature.

It is no matter, Tim, what's written on the outside of Books, be [Page 44] it at beginning or ending; so that that which is within be excellent, and serviceable.

I am very nigh of your mind, Philautus; but yet I would not have all the Philosophers, before you, be counted Dunces and Loggerheads, on­ly because it did not come into their mind to write a Book, concerning the five Senses, Imagination, Dreams, Praedicables, Propositions, &c. and call it the fundamental Elements of Po­licy.

And is not the knowledge of the five Senses, and the rest that you mention very useful?

So is the knowledge of the Eight Parts of Speech. But I must confess that I can scarce think, that supposing the people of England had generally believed with you, that Vision was not made by species intenti­onales, that the image of any thing by reflection in a glass is not any thing in or behind the glass, that the interiour coat of the eye is nothing else but a piece of the optick nerve, that Vniversals [Page 45] do not exist in return naturâ; I say, I cannot think, notwithstanding all this, but possibly we might have had wars in this Nation; no more than I can believe, that a false opinion of Ecchoes, and Hypothetical Syllogismes took off the King's head.

I perceive you are resolved to make the worst of every thing.

I make it neither better, nor worse; for in your Epistle Dedicato­ry to the Duke of Newcastle, you tell him, that all that have written before you of Iustice and Policy, have inva­ded each other and themselves with contradiction, that they have altoge­ther built in the aire, and that for want of such infallible and inexpugna­ble Principles as you have Mathemati­cally laid down, in your Hamane na­ture; Government and Peace have been nothing else to this day but mutual fears: And when one comes to look for these same infallibles, and inex­pugnables, there's nothing but about conception, and phantasmes, and a long race amongst the passions; where [Page 46] to endeavour is appetite, to turn back is repentance, to be in breath is hope, to be weary despair, and to forsake the course is to dye, and the like; so that the only way to make a Mathemati­cal Governour, is for himself to be a good Iockey, and for his Subjects rightly to understand the several heats, and courses of the Passions.

Thou gettest away all the talk, Tim. I prethee listen to me, and learn. I tell thee that I have by my great skill in Mathematicks, and great wariness so ordered the busi­ness, that most of my Books depend closely one upon another.

So I find it said by the Pub­lisher of your Hamane Nature, in his Epistle to the Reader. Our Author (saies he) hath written a body of Phi­losophy upon such Principles, and in such order as is used by men conver­sant in demonstration: which being distinguished into three Parts, de Cor­pore, de Homine, de Cive, each of the Consequents begin at the end of the Antecedent (like Zacutu [...]'s linkes) [Page 47] and insist thereupon as the latter Books of Euclid upon the former.

And whoever he was, he spoke like a man of understanding; it was my design that they should, and by great industry I brought it to pass.

And I pray, Sir, how many pounds of candle did it cost you, to tie de Corpore, and de Homine toge­ther? Methinks you need not be long about that; for Body is either taken in general or in particular; in general, that is de Corpore: and man being a particular sort of body, de Ho­mine must needs follow close at the heels; and so they are taken care of: but indeed to fasten de Homine, and de Cive cleverly together requires a little more knocking and hamme­ring; and therefore to do that ex­actly, we must scratch and rub our heads very well, and warily call to mind, that a man is to be considered in two respects; either as he is a body natural, consisting of flesh, blood, and bones; or as he is a member of the [Page 48] Body Politick: that is, as he is leg, arm, finger or toe of the Common-wealth; and therefore let us have one Book de Homine, as he is a natural Body, and another de Cive, as he is a limb of the huge Giant, the Common-wealth; and so there's an Euclidean trap laid, that de Cive shall follow de Homine; and so it does, but not bluntly: for though one would have thought that this had jointed them so close together, that Archimedes himself could never have pulled them asunder; yet to put all out of danger, it is best to rivet them a little faster, by putting in a most obliging transition; in the last Chapter, inti­tled de Homine fictitio; where we are learnt further to consider, that a man is either by, or for himself a man, called a real man; or he is a man for ano­ther, called a fictitious man. Such a one is he that acts another, is deputed for another, engages for another, or the like. Now because in all well governed Common-wealths (now any one by that word may perceive, that [Page 49] de Cive is just at Towns end) for bet­ter trading, bargaining, commerce, &c. there's great use of Deputies, Proxies, Factors, Sponsors, Embassadors and the like; therefore let the chief of this Chapter be spent in the employ­ments of such fictious men in a Common-wealth; and then turn over the leaf, and behold, there stands to the honour of Euclid, and the ad­miration of all Philautians, the Book de Cive.

What, would you have Arts and Sciences tumbled down toge­ther, like coals into a Cellat? Would you not have men make use of their Parts, and Reason; and for smooth­ness, and memory sake, put some­what before, that should relate to, and occasion what follows?

I am, Sir, a great friend to the very least pretences of connexi­on, where it is not phantastical, or manifestly inconvenient: but to have Books tailed together by far fetched contrivances; and to swag­ger them off for demonstrations, and [Page 50] thereupon to defie all former Ages, is so very idle, that I had rather people would speak Proverbs, or on­ly say, these four leafes I intend to speak of a Horse, the next two shall be concerning Mackrel, and what is to be spared, shall be concerning Caterpillars.

And do you, Tim, approve of this illogical, unphilosophical, and unmathematical way of writing?

No; but I had ten times ra­ther do so, than as the natural Phi­losopher, who being employed to write the History of a Crow, Iack­daw, and Pye, after many Months spent in dressing, ranking, stringing, and hanging them together, at last entered upon the business after this elegant and digested manner. Being about to treat of the natural rights and powers of Crows, Iack-daws, and Pyes; subjects often handled by weak and heedless observers: we shall be forced so to write, as if none had been before us in this kind: all which must be performed with such prudence and consideration, as justly become so very [Page 51] great an affair; seeing that hereupon depend not only the knowledge of the chiefest and best of Birds; but also of all beasts in general: Nay, even of man himself, and the great Trojane horse the Common-wealth. And that we may be sure to lay a solid foundati­on, and neither to repent, nor recal, it will be necessary in the beginning exact­ly to state the true conception or Idaea of a Bird, for as much as the particu­lar conceptions of Crow, Iack-daw, and Pye are comprehended under that common one of Bird: And therefore that we may avoid-all equivocation, which is the original of Errors, and that there may be no quarrelling or disputing in following Ages, we do ram down for the future Peace and Government of all Nations, that the phantasme or conception of a Bird is a flying phantasme or conception. Having thus warily and fundamentally deter­mined what is a Bird in general; we pro­ceed now to the three Birds themselves: and that we may do nothing without method, the blackest and largest of [Page 52] them we call a Crow; and seeing that likeness of colour begets likeness of con­ception, we go on to the next, whose conception is full out as black as a Crow, but not altogether so large, and this we call a Iack-daw; and because that black strictly taken only for black, is a more simple conception than black and white together, therefore we thought fit to speak of a Pye in the last place, which partakes of the two former concepti­ons as to black, but differs from both as to white.

I prethee, Tim, what was the name of this Philosopher?

'Tis no matter for his name, Sir: You must needs acknowledge him to be a Philosopher of worth; and very little inferiour to your self, both as to reason, and circum­spection.

But where's the state of war all this while? That's the thing I long to be at, Tim; and to shew thee for a Fish.

Let me but consider a little, how that same Book de homine (I [Page 53] don't mean your little English Hu­mane nature) came to be filled with such a heap of Opticks, and then the Fish shall begin as soon as you will.

To make out that is as need­less, as to shew how a Coach goes down Holborn-hill.

I think I remember how it is, viz. a man is a creature, that has bo­dy and mind: his mind has several faculties; and amongst the rest there be five Senses; and the most excellent of all these is Seeing; and then pre­sently pull away with Perspective, Di­optricks, Catoptricks, Telescopes, Microscopes, and all the rest for fifty Pages together, as long as there's a Star to be seen in the Skie.

And why, is it not proper to put in Opticks into a Treatise de Homine?

Not after the manner as you have done; because we have an art by it self for that purpose. You might as well have put in fifty Pages about Musick, as about Opticks: [Page 54] for man you know has as many ears, as eyes. But here's the business, Phi­lautus, you take very great pains in all things to be singular. Where you should use Mathematicks, there you will scarce let us have any at all; and when there's not the least need, then you pour them forth as if you were bottomless: And thus many a Reader comes, suppose, to one of your Books that has an ordinary title; and there finding a company of strange Mathe­matical Schemes; and not under­standing them, he presently cries out, What a brave man is this Phi­lautus? What wonders and rarities does he afford upon such a common sub­ject? Surely he has gone the deepest that ever searched into Nature. I tell you, Philautus, he that has a mind to take advantage of this humour of yours, and to run things together by force that have no relation, he may easily thrust the fifteen Books of Euclid into the London Dispensatory, or Iustinian's Institutes into a Com­mon Almanack. I shall not now [Page 55] stand to tell you after what pills, and under what month they might come in, because I am loth to hin­der the show.

Be not too secure and pre­sumptuous, Tim: for if I don't shew thee for a fish, I'le shew thee to be a Beast, and all mankind besides.

Nay, if I have so much good company, I had much rather turn out to grass, than stand in alone, and be melancholy; come, Sir, flou­rish then, and let's begin.

You know Tim, that I have laid a foundation for this in my Hu­mane Nature, and 'tis an easy matter now to finish the business.

Yes truly I have (as I told you before) looked over that same foundation of yours, called Humane Nature, and I think it much more fit for the bottom of minc'd pyes, than of any Policy or government. Be pleased to goe on, Sir, and shew some other reasons why the ancient Philosophers did not think, as you doe, that all men are naturally beasts. [Page 56] You told me, as I remember, some­what else, wherein they miscarried; besides that they went in a wrong method, and did not first design a Treatise of Humane Nature.

I did so: and it was thus: viz. they all blindly running one af­ter another, and taking severall things for granted that were per­fectly false; they laid down that for a fundamental truth, which is no otherwise than a fundamental lie.

That was a great oversight indeed; a fundamental truth, and a fundamental lie! I profess, Sir, they dwell a great way asunder. But I pray what was that fundamen­tal lie.

That man was a sociable creature.

Lack a day! how easie a matter is it for old folks to dote and slaver, and for young ones to be de­ceived, and lick up the spittle? I'd have laid three cakes to a far­thing, that my old Masters had been in the right. But are you very, [Page 57] very certain that they are not? per­haps you may have taken yours up­on trust, as well as they did theirs: and if so then courage cakes, for I don't intend to be a Centaure.

That's a good one indeed: as if they who had all their Phi­losophy from the tap-droppings of their predccessors, and the moral tradition of the Barber's Chair, were not much more subject to take thing upon trust, than one, who supecting all kind of opinions, have turn'd over the whole History of the world, and Nature her self.

And there belike you found, that man is not a sociable creature. I wish there were some way to com­pound this business: for you know, Sir, the world is full of trade, ac­quaintace, neighbours and relations: and for the most part man has had the crack and fame, for five or six thousand years, of being tolerably tame; and methinks it is a great pity now at last to be sent to the Tower amongst the Lyons, or to be [Page 58] driven to Smithfield, with a mastiffe and a great cudgell. I pray, Sir, what doe you mean by those words, when you say that man is not a sociable creature?

What, canst not construe two words of Greek [...] ▪ I mean as all people mean, that man is not born fit for society.

He is usually born with two Leggs, to goe about his busi­ness; with a pair of hands to tell money, with a couple of eyes to see if there be any Brass; and with a tongue to discourse, when he has nothing else to doe. And there­fore I must be troublesome once more, and desire you to explain, what you mean by a mans being not born fit for society.

Thou askest questions, Tim, as if thou didst intend to send me to market: When I say, that a man is not born fit for society, I mean that men naturally doe not seek society for its own sake.

I must desire of you, that [Page 59] you would let own sake alone for the present; and let us first see, whe­ther men do naturally seek society: and I'le promise you, not to forget to have it considered, for whose sake, or upon what acompt they doe it. And therefore, I pray, Sir, an­swer me punctually whether natu­rally men doe seeke society or not.

To be punctual, Tim, and please thee, I answer, they doe not.

You know, Philautus, that men are apt to sort, to herd; they love to enquire, to confer, and discourse: and when people get in­to corners, and covet to be alone; we usually count such to be sick, distemper'd, melancholy or to­wards mad. And I suppose the question is not concerning such, but concerning healthful and sober men.

There you are quite out, Tim: for when I say that men na­turally doe not seek society, or are not born fit for society; I don't mean full grown men, such as are able to [Page 60] carry or eat a quarter of beef, but I mean children: which is plain in the very phrase it self, Tim, if thou wouldst mind any thing: it being there said, not born fit; so that to say, a man is not born fit for soci­ety, is all one as to say, that a man newly born is not fit for society, or does not seek society.

Well let it go so; we'l see what will become of this business; it begins to drive bravely: we are got thus far that children do not desire or seek society. But if so, Phi­lautus, how comes it about that they desire or seek after company. I don't mean, that when the Nurses back is turned, they skip out of the cradle, and with a huge ashen Plant run away to the next fair, Bull-bayt­ing, or football match; but they do not care for being in the dark: they are discontented, and cry when they are left alone, and love to see now and then a humane face, if it does not look, as if it would bite.

[Page 61]

All this is only for victu­als.

Some of it, I grant you, may be for victuals. But they can't eat, from one end of the Nation to the other. And one child oftimes takes delight in the company of another, to whom it has never a load of corn to fell: neither does it intend to eat, or suck up that other child.

Thou art quite beside the saddle again, Tim: for when I say a child doth not seek or desire society: by society I don't mean crying for the pap or sucking bottle, or to be daunc'd by Dad, or to giggle it a­mongst its Camrades: But I mean by society, bonds, contracts, cove­nants, leagues, transferring of rights, and such like things which are pro­per to Cities, Communities and Societies: Dost hear me, Tim, I mean by society these sort of com­mon-wealth affaires: which thou knowest children doe neither un­derstand, nor are able to mannage. [Page 62] And now I suppose thy thick skull begins to open a little, and to be enlightned: one had as good have half score to inform, as one hea­vy Tim.

Indeed, Sir, it must be ac­knowledged that you have taken great pains. But for all that, I pray may not I make bold to say, that children desire society in your sence? for they seek it so soon as they are able, and doe perceive the intenti­ons thereof.

Thou wilt never leave this dull trick of not understanding. I must therefore condescend, and let thee know, that by seeking society, I mean actual entering into society: that is, being ingaged in conveyan­ces, bargains, publick offices, and such things as I before mentioned. This and only this is truly to be said so­ciable.

And is this all that you have now to say? have you nothing more to add.

[Page 63]

What need is there of any more?

Then doe I very much pity the poor distressed creatures, that have been thus long gulled with same and phrases.

How so?

How so, do you say? what would you have a Child come out of the womb, saying over Noverint Vniversi with a pen in one hand, and wax in t'other, and fall present­ly to signing, sealing and deliver­ing: or before it be dressed; shreek aloud, and cry faggots, faggots five for sixpence? is this the principle that you were so many years find­ing out? is this the fruits of Mathe­maticks, long observation, fundamen­tal casting about, and bottoming of things? did you goe into the bowels and heart blood of Na­ture to bring up nothing else but this?

I prethe, Tim, don't make such long sentences: for thou wilt have nothing to say by and by. I [Page 64] tell thee that this principle that I have now revealed to thee, is the most weighty principle that belongs to all Humane Nature.

'Tis very weighty indeed: and it is great pity but that you should be entomb'd at Westminster and statued up at Gresham Colledge for the great moral discoverer of the Age.

Why? for all your jeering, Tim, I hope you do not imagine that a child can trade, and cove­nant, or bear any publick office for the good of the Common-wealth.

No indeed: I do not think it can: unless you would have it jump off the Nurses lap, and run a­way to the Exchange, and there ask for the Spanish, or Virginia walk; or have a woman brought to bed of a Iustice of peace, or a Maior with his Macebearer and tipt staves before him.

Very good, very good: then it seemes at last, you are willing to acknowledge that I said true.

[Page 65]

And so did all men before you.

Nay, pardon me there: for they say quite contrary.

Which of them ever said that any man was actually born a Constable or silk weaver?

But they say he's born fit.

So doe you, or else I cannot read your own Annotations upon the second Article of your first Chap­ter de Cive: wherein you say that to man, by nature, as man, as soon as he is born solitude is an enemy. And that all men are desirous of con­gress and mutuall correspondence, and doe enter into society as soon as they understand it.

But this is not pure insant nature, but education.

I should laugh indeed to see a Marchant to ship away a Baby in blankets to be his Factor beyond sea: or to see a child of half a year old with its whistle and rattle set swaggering in Commission upon the bench with my Lord. A child I suppose may be admitted to be born apt to walk; [Page 66] speak, reason and discourse; al­though it be above a week before it leaps up the table, and cry Nego [...]. The short of your opini­on is this, Philautus, that children, fools and madmen, are not very am­bitious of being of the Privy Council; and if they were invited thereunto, would do themselves and the Nation but little service. So that if right reason (which, Philau­tus, you so much talk of, and pre­tend to) does determine that the Cradle, Bedlam, and a Gentleman's kitchen shall be the only standard and measure of Humane Nature, then truly Philautus must be acknow­ledged by all for a most mighty Philosopher: but if otherwise, he must e'en be content to sit down with his neighbours. And if you remember, Philautus, I gave you an hint of this at first, viz. That if your opinions were thoroughly search'd into, and that all disguise of phrase was laid aside, they would either be found to be absolutely false, or else to be [Page 67] the same, that every mortal believes. And this gave me hopes of compound­ing the business.

Nay, hold you there: for I am against sharing or dividing of truth. I don't like that cowardly trick of compounding for an assertion, or having my opinions insured. Sink, or swim, I love to run the whole venture, and to get all or lose all. And certain I am that I say somewhat quite different from what is com­monly known, or asserted.

So you know you promised us in the title of your Humane Na­ture: where I looked till my eyes asked; and I could find nothing but ancient venerable stuf [...] new cased and dawb'd over. And I perceive you are of the same mind still, and think that you hold and maintaine such things as were never held or maintained before. I pray, Sir, let's heare one of those same things, that you thus swagger of.

Then let me tell you, Tim, that I do hold, maintain & positively [Page 68] say that the state of nature is a state of war: which is a truth so great, bold, and generous, that all the Ancients. wanted parts, wit and courage to find it out, or defend it.

I am confident that this will prove just such another story, as that of the sociable creature: and I must needs say that it was done like a wit, and Hec. besides, to find out and hold that which every child may hold.

That's as good, as I heard this fortnight: Thou speakest like one that is versed in business, and the world. What, shall a child be able to defend that which lay hid for so many Ages, and took me such paines to discover?

You shall hear the Child hold it, and demonstrate it too, that's more, viz. thus: the state of War (you know) is a state wherein peo­ple have not engaged or obliged themselves to one another by any covenants, bargains, or transfer­ring of rights. So far is true: is it not?

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Well, go on.

And you know that children or infants, which are in the true state of nature, cannot covenant or bargain, release or transfer; and therefore you cannot but know, that that dreadful business called the state of war must needs follow.

Thou art Tim, certainly the worthiest of thy kind. This is my very proofe: you make use of my very way.

I do so; because no body but a child would ever have made such a noise and rattle with a com­pany of words, and to mean so little by them.

Why, what's the matter now? what is it that you would have had meant?

Alas! Sir, when you told me (as you do in your Epistle De­dicatory de Cive) That man to man is an arrant Wolfe, except it be for his interest to be otherwise; That there's no living amongst strangers but by the two daughters of War, de­ceipt [Page 70] and violence; That naturally men are all brutall, ravenous and ra­pacious; I say when I heard this, I expected the whole world naturally to be all in armes and an uproare; tearing and worrying one another like mad: and to hear nothing but down with him there, hang him with his own gutts, give him a pound of melted lead for a julip to cool his pluck, split him down the chine, or flea him alive and roast him with a couple of awles in his eyes: when I, Philautus, heard of a state of war, I profess, I could think of little less than all this and so did most peo­ple besides: and when all comes to all, Philautus has found out a great moral secret, viz. That Whelps can't see till they be nine days old, nor a child can't speak unless it has a spoon, nor goe to market before it can goe alone.

Is this all that I say?

'Tis all: and every bit and scrap of all. For like a great searcher into Nature, you only observe that we are children before we are men, [Page 71] and children can't speak; and where no speech, there can be no bargain or engagement, or treaty for termes of peace, and where no bargain, &c. there must needs be the Devil, & war.

I profess, Tim, this confi­dence of thine does almost anger me, to utter some vast sense beyond thy worth.

If I thought that were the way to make you speak wiser, I'd carry on the designe, and endeavour to improve my self for that very pur­pose; and I'd not only be very con­fident, but I'd be as saucy, as I could contrive.

Then know, Tim, that I have reserved a reason for such sauciness, as thine: and therefore I do pro­nounce that children may not only be said to be in a state of war meerly because they cannot enter into Leagues, and offer and receive termes of peace; but that we oftimes see that they actually gripe and demand things to which they have not the least right or title; which if denyed, [Page 72] they presently out of fury cry, quarrell, fight, and scratch poor Nurse, or Parent it self: now this, Tim, does not only demonstrate their naturall dispositions to war; but that without any affront, reason or pretence of justice, they actually fall on, and have no respect at all to our meums and tuums.

Thus have I seen a spanish-leather shoe kick'd into the fire, and perished in the involving flames: and (which would make a heart to bleed) a whole poringer of sweetned milk, with its topling white bread, rouling up and down upon the un­certain floore: and the little state of Nature as hard worrying the righte­ous & inoffensive Nurse, as ever poor Dogg was worryed by Hare. And in­quiring into the quarrell, and occa­sion of the war, I found, that the wicked and ravenous young Centaure against all Conscience and the esta­blish'd lawes of the Realm, had most unjustly and feloniously sat upon a whole yard of red inkle.

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And did it not affect thee, Tim, and make thee sigh again? and wert thou not converted thereby, and fully convinced that the State of Nature was a state of war? this me­thinks was a very Providentiall in­stance.

I was fully perswaded, Sir, by that and some other instances, that children doe not know the exact difference between freehold and co­pyhold. And when they take a fro­lick to scratch and quarrell, they do not always consult the law of Na­tions; giving convenient warning, and printing a proclamation of war with a long history of the justice thereof. But, Sir, there's another thing to be taken notice of in chil­dren (which I wonder such an ob­server as you should miss) that in­timates a setled resolution to quarrel, and seemes to design absolute bat­tell: for, what you mentioned be­fore, may possibly be by chance. And that is, many children are ob­served to come into the world with [Page 74] all their fingers close bent over their thumbs; and they of times continue in this [...] condition a long while af­ter: & if anyone goes about to order the hand into more peaceful posture and circumstances, it's presently snatched away with great fury and violence, and by a natural kind of [...], returns to the [...]

I profess, Tim. I did not think that thou had hadst so much stuf [...] in thee. I am confident that if thou hadst not been spoiled in thy education, and tained with some foppish and squeamish Principles, thou mightest in time have come to some tolerable degree of moral pru­dence.

Why, Sir, do you like what I now said?

Like it? Why, who does not?

Nay, if you like that, surely (in your opinion) I may be Professor in time: for it was one of the silliest things that ever said in my whole [Page 75] life. I did it only, Sir, to [...] it with your reason which you quoted just before out of your Preface, about Childrens clawing for a flower, or bit of ribhand.

What then, art thou resolved not to stir? Must I go on further to convince thee? I prethee, Tim, tell me, how much conviction will serve thy turn; & I'le undertake thee by the lump, that I may know when I shall make thee a man? I am con­fident, I fully understand why thou stickest, and art so difficulty to be brought to my opinion: thou per­ceivest that most people are born in Families and Towns, and whilst they are children they are kept from do­ing mischief by their Parents and Nurses; and when are they grown up, they are restrained by Law: and were it not for this pittiful preju­dice, thou wouldst believe as fully as I, that the state of Nature is a meer state of war.

I know now as well as can be whereabouts you are: this is to [Page 76] wheadle me into your Mushroom state of men suddainly springing out of the earth, without any kind of engage­ment to each other.

O that I could but get thee to grant any such thing, then I should flie thee home presently.

I don't care much for men springing out of the earth; lest fit­ting upon the ground, some fellow or other should leeringly put up his head between my legs: but, which is as well, I'le grant you a shower of pure natural men; and the rather, be­cause Pliny has a little scoured the roads, with a rain of calfes long ago.

And wilt thou not flinch, but be ingenuous, and suffer me to suppose freely?

Suffer you, Sir? Don't que­stion that: if you please, Sir, I'le suppose it for you.

And won't you put in a little of Moses's tale, of the World being inhabited first by Adam; to whom God transferred the right of all [Page 77] things, and he to his Posterity?

Not a word; it does not become a Philosopher, and an Inqui­rer into Principles to tell Stories.

Now thou speakest like a child of some hopes. I don't que­stion now but I shall get thy heart, and soul too, before it be long. I prethee then begin; and be sure Tim, to be very just and exact in thy supposition.

Thus then; Upon the tenth of March—

How? not a word further: thou must begin all again: the tenth of March, Tim? that's not natural: but a meer humane institution of the Almanack-men: an absolute contri­vance of State, to find out Fairs and Markets, and other publick places of transferring of rights.

Then let it be thus; Once upon a time, the wind being full East—

Out again; we shall have a shower of nothing but Iudges, Do­ct [...]rs, and Philosophers: Dost not [Page 78] know that the wise men c [...]me out of the East?

That's only Scripture, Sir: and you know if the Supreme Magi­strate does but so interpret it, there shall come as wise ones out of the West: but however to content you, wee'l have no wind at all: but only wee'l have it rain a good lusty show­er; and amongst the rest of the great drops, there shall come down four well complexioned, upright Gentlemen: about fifteen hands high: which shall all happen to fall upon an Island of four hundred acres, viz. the Isle of Pines; and that we may be better acquainted with them, their names shall be Dick, Roger, Tumbler & Towser.

Here's at least half a load of contradiction, in what thou hast now said. First of all you say they shall be upright: I pray whose Rights or Laws can they keep or break; they having not as yet taken any oath of Allegiance or Supremacy? Next of all you say they are Gentlemen: Per­haps so; but if they be, you must [Page 79] needs go back again, and speak for a small dagger-cloud for their foot-boys: and then besides all this, I see no great necessity that you should make them so very tall and large, when less Mounsiers would serve as well for a supposition.

Truly, Sir, when I said that they were upright Gentlemen, I only meant that they were streight limb'd and right up ones: and by Gentle­men, I only meant ordinary men: But as to their stature I think I was discreet enough: because if you re­member, Sir, in the eighth Chapter of your dominion; those same mush­room-men which you ordered to spring out of the earth, were suddain­ly to come to full maturity; and if ma­ture perfect men may come up, I saw no reason but as perfect ones might come down. And when we had once appointed it to rain men; I thought we had better have a shower to some purpose, and have it rain good, stout, speaking, understanding men, than on­ly a Scottish mist of Babies, which [Page 80] would have entagled us agai in the old story of children not being soci­able.

But how comes in about that you suppose these people to speak? Speech is so very an antificial thing, that we are forced to have Masters and Mistresses for that very purpose; and all the world perceives that chil­dren do not speak naturally.

But you know, Philautus, that the very same man [...] that had a Plantation of armed men, not far from the Isle of Pine [...], is said to have had also a small nursery of Letters; and we may properly enough say that there is some hopes that children may speak, although they do not imme­diatly after nine or ten Months close imprisonment, call for their boots and horse, to take fresh aire. And besides you promised to talk no more of children, but substantial men; and you need not be afraid at all, that it shall rain any absurdi [...]ies so long as we do not suppose it to rain Watch-men, Bell-men, Lant [...]rns and Psalms: [Page 81] for we intend only an ordinary civil shower of perfect men.

I am likely to do thee much good indeed! We are inquiring what is the pure candid condition of nature, and thou comest in with thy Civil shower; which supposes Government, society, and all the absurdities imagi­nable, and begs the whole question that is in controversie: Is this you that promised to suppose so fairly? thou shalt e'en be called Tim the fair supposer.

This 'tis to be so much for self preservation! it makes people as curious and fearful of their reputati­on, as of their limbs. I speak, Phi­lautus, only of an ordinary shower of men, and you snort and boggle, as if I had laid a thousand fox-traps, and barrels of gun-power in the road; you may put out the word Civil, if you please, I intended no advantage by it.

Well then, if you'l leave out your tricks, and keep to your pure, plain, ordinary men; I do not at all [Page 82] question, but the [...] will go on my side.

What are you resolved then that they must needs have a brush at boxes before they set on the old hen and bacon? Must they needs upon first sight set up their tayls, and bri­stles, and fall a sna [...]ling, and swear­ing, and tearing one anothers throat [...] out?

You do not hear me say so: but you must be forced to [...] me, that they are as yet in most abso­lute state of war.

Why so?

Because they have not as yet entered into any League, nor con­cluded any Treaty, nor so much as made any overt [...]es for Alli [...]need

That's right: unless they happened (as they came tumbling down) to call in at old Io [...]es of up­per Enfield, two miles beyond Can­casus, and there crack'd [...] and shak'd hands.

But if they did so, they did not come down inpur [...] naturalibus.

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And is this all the reason you have that these men are in a state of war, viz. because they have not as yet discoursed, made overtures, cove­nanted?

Yes truly; and it is a most able one upon my reputation.

Now could I be tempted to go home, and spend a little time in laughing, and not to talk one word more: for this proves just such ano­ther discovery as we had before: For after much wrangling and dispute, we found out (I remember) at last, that a sucking Child was not fit to command an Army, or to make a speech at the head of it; and now we have found out, that these same dropt men can't enter into a league, till they have spoken with one ano­ther, neither can they speak, till they open their mouths; and therefore they are in a most dismal state of war; because when they do meet, it is possible for them to fight, having sworn not any thing at all to the con­trary. What, Philautus, would you [Page 84] have Roger speak to the next tree to run away in all hast, and out of pure natural kindness, and sweet sincere hu­manity invite Dick and the rest of the Pineyards to a Wesphalia Ham and Pigeons? Whereas Roger never saw any of them as yet, nor knows any thing of their being come to Pines: Or would you have Dick to testifie his inward disposition to pure society it self, grasp a whole armful of aire, and fall to treating and covenanting, and at last enter into a close league therewith? The summ of all, Phi­lautus, amounts only to this; that there are four honest Rogues come to Town, from the four several quarters of the world, and falling either upon several places of the Island, or being a great mist, or coming before day light, they have not as yet seen one a­nother, and having not seen one ano­ther, they have not as yet discoursed, treated or compounded; and there­fore they are actually in a state of [...]ar, i. e. they having not spoken at all, it is impossible that they should [Page 85] have spoken to each other. Now if you take delight in the phrase, you may if you please call this a state of war, a state of Devils, or what state you will; but for my part, I think there's nothing in it, only a small trick of words. There's the huge King of China, and another great man that dwells t'other way: I ne­ver made any overtures, treaty or composition with them; and yet for all that I don't find any grumblings or cursings of humane nature within me, or any prickings, and pushings forth toward any war. Indeed I have found my self sometimes at some small variance with the Turk; but that is, because his Rogues use to droll a little too severely upon my Mer­chant men. Neither, Philautus, would I have you think (supposing it were worth the while to insist upon a phrase) that you have justified this kind of supposed state of nature to be a state of war, by saying, as you somewhere do, that the state of war is not only actual fighting, but it is [Page 86] the whole time that the variance or quarrel last. For I grant that war consists not in the number or length of battles, but in a readiness and re­solution to contend. But withall we may easily conceive much more rea­son to call the intervals between bat­tle and battle, war; or the whole time from proclamation thereof to the concluding of peace; than to call that a state of war, which has no pre­tence for any such name from any quarrel that ever was yet, but from one that unreasonably may be. I say, I think, there ought to be some dif­ference made between these two states; and you your self, Philautus, must not be too backward to ac­knowledge it; because of your ve­ry own definition of war, cap. 1. Art. 12. Where you say, that war is that same time in which the will of conte­sting by force, is fully declared by words or deeds. Now if Roger had challenged Dick to play with him to morrow, three first hits for the King­dom; or that Dick had come be­hind [Page 87] Roger, and struck up his heels, here had been Declaration enough to signifie and justifie war: But to say that they are at war without either words or deeds (only because they have not bargain'd) is not agreeable to what you say your self.

You have talked, and talked I know not what, Tim. But for all that, will you venture to say that these four strangers are actually a body politick?

I'le say no such thing at all: But I say that this same state of war which you make such a clatter with, is only a war of meer words: and therefore to lay aside this same blind mans buff, and decide the controver­sie; let us see a little what these same Pineyards will do when they first meet. And so, if you please, Sir, about Sun-rising wee'l give them a view, unmuzzle, and let them off the slip. And now hola Roger! over with him there Dick; collar him close Towser; gripe him under the small ribs, and pluck out his speen [Page 88] Tumbler. O bravely recovered! Now hold it out for the credit of the state of nature, and the family of the Dicks. Now fall upon his chest, and strike his heart out of his mouth, and dash that Rogues eye out of the Island.

I prethee, Tim, what art thou doing of? What an uproar and noise thou makest? Thou didst talk just now of four honest Rogues that were come to Town, and thou hast sent for four Furies, I think.

I did it only, Sir, to give you a small sample of the state of na­ture. They must have a brush I sup­pose, Sir, before they go to break­fast.

I pray, Tim, do so much as part them; and let's go on softly and soberly, and then see what will follow.

I can exactly tell you, Sir, what will follow, viz. if humane na­ture upon first view, pricks up its eares, and sets up its skut, and falls presently to tearing, slicing and [Page 89] slashing; then the battle goes on your side: but if reason and hu­mane nature directs these people to treat, and live peaceably together, then I count the day is mine.

Nay, Tim, the field is not so easily gained: You think of your tropies a little too soon.

However methinks at pre­sent I am a little apt to value my hopes: For here's nothing of preju­dice, education, custom, Father or Mother, League or Covenant; but on­ly pure terse humane nature, newly drawn out of the clouds.

Let me consider a little: You say if they fall to quarrelling and fighting, when ever they first meet, then and not else it is to be judged that humane nature inclines to war; or that the state of nature is a state of war. Now I thought thou didst go on too quick: For let me tell thee, Tim, that that is as much false, as I am older than thou art. For actual fighting and destroying is not that alone which is to be termed [Page 90] [...] ▪ For whether these Pineyards fight or not, so long as they have not treated and bargained, they cannot properly be said to be so­ciable.

This we have had over so often, that I am quite tired, viz. they cannot properly be said actu­ally to have made Covenants, Leagues, and Bonds, till they have actually made Covenants, Leagues, and Bonds. Do but resolve to hold to that, and you may easily defend your self a­gainst all the forces in the world, by sea or by land.

But for all you are so brisk, Tim: How do you certainly know that they will not fall to breaking of heads and leggs? Did you stand be­hind a tree and hear the parley? Or had you word sent you by the Pinae­an packet boat?

I need not go so far for my Intelligence, Philautus. I had it near­er home: For (to save Iourneys and charges of Forreign Letters) I al­waies love to keep a little right rea­son [Page 91] in the house; with which your Book of Politicks is so crawlingly full; and from which alone (not from ge­neral agreement of the most wise men and learned Nations, or the common consent of mankind which you there despise) you lay down for the first and fundamental law of Nature, that peace is to be sought, where it may be found. Now in this same little land of Pines, we doe suppose there growes abundance of peace, if the late come guests will but seek for't: because being never inhabited, there was never so much as a cut finger dropt upon't.

Now I have catch'd thee bravely, Tim. Now I do not questi­on but to make abundance of mo­ney of thee. I do say indeed, that right reason tells us, that the first and fundamentall law of Nature is to seeke peace where it may be had; and that the first special law of Nature derived from that fundamentall one is this, that the right of all men to all things ought not to be retained, but that some [Page 92] certain rights ought to be transferred or relinquish'd. But you must consider, Tim, that I establish these laws upon quite different grounds from those which are generally given by old Moralists. For they flatter you, and feed you with a fiddle faddle of mens seeking society, for its own sake; and dividing or compounding the common right by natural equity and justice. Wheras it is plain to me and all right Reasoners, that men meerly lye upon the lu [...]ch for socie­ty, and seek it only for pleasure or profit: (or in one word out of mu­tual fear.) and they are willing to share or divide the common right, not because there is any inward reason they should do so, but be­cause it is much safer than to be en­gaged in War perpetually. Take this along with thee, Tim, there's Doctrine enough for this fortnight.

Ther's a little too much for once, Sir; and therefore I must de­sire you to cast it into two parts. You say in the first place that we [Page 93] have held for many ages that men seek society for its own sake. I pray why may we not hold it one summer more.

Why? If by Nature one man should love another, that is as man, every man would equally love every man, as being equally man; and not pick here and there, accord­ing as profit, honour, or other things do direct him.

Now, upon my Conscience, Philautus, you meane by a man only a thing standing right up (like a Heron) with a head and a few eyes thereunto belonging: For if he chance to speake or listen, to buy or sell, give or receive; if he be peacefull, faithfull, modest, af­fable, temperate, prudent, inge­nious, or be of any worth or use imaginable; then we seek after such, and fort with such, not for society▪ but out of mutual fear. So that to enter into society for its own simple single sake, were only to enter into it, for the sake of a good word, that must not signify any thing. For if [Page 94] it does, it must not be called socie­ty, but plot, profit, design, or the like.

And dost thou think, Tim, that I will not believe my own eyes and ears, before this nothing that thou sayest? Is there any better way to understand by what advice and upon what accompt people mee▪, and enter into society, than by ob­serving what they do when they are met? For suppose, Tim, they meet for traffique, is it not plain that e­very man minds his business, and en­deavours to dispatch what he de­sign'd? If to discharge some offi [...], is it not to carry on a kind of a market friendship, which has more of jea­lousie than true love? And lastly if (for diversion and recreation of mind) to discourse; is not here visi­bly at the bottom either advantage or vain glory?

This must needs be right: and I wonder how I came to mi­strust it. For suppose I goe to mar­ket to buy corn and meat for my fa­mily: [Page 95] and when I come [...] the length and colour of his eye­browes; and also an exact accompt [...] and complexion of the [...] that stood [...] the sacks mouth; and affect them both most dea [...]ly and return home most vehemently in love; and next day bid my ser­vant set on the pot and fill it full of [...], stature, complexion, friend­ship and society, and let them be ve­ry well boyl'd: I am afraid, for all my [...] love, some of the family may chance to be hungry before next market day. And so in like manner if upon the road my horse casts a shoe, and thereupon I call in upon the next Sm [...]th: I may pretend indeed that I came only to render him a sociable visit, to look upon his [...], him, and to be sweet upon his humanity: but, for all that; it is [...] to one before we parts If I don't [...] plot and fetch things about, as to treat concerning Oton, and so by degrees cunningly [Page 96] draw him in to set me a shoe▪

But why so many instan­ces?

Because you have two whole pages upon the same occasion: and beside [...] I have a mind to convince my self throughly that people do not enter into society purely for its own sake. And therefore I cannot but think again, if I should call a coach, and when I have done so, speak to bay and brown to set me down at Charing-cross: for, as for their Ma­ster; he should ride along with me in the coach, because I did intend to love him, and hugg him a whole shillings worth. I believe the Coach­man may goe to bed supperless for all this▪ and that I might have been sooner at my journeys end, if I had gone on foot. Or lastly suppose I should be lost upon the road at mid­night, and call a man out of his bed only to ask him whether he be in health, how he slept, and how all his family does: and not say one word concerning my being ignorant [Page 97] of the way; (for there's designe) this would be pure love indeed, and a most unexceptionable argument of [...] to society. and therefore, [...] you well observe, people may [...] and talk of entring into society for its own sake, and of going to mar­ket out of meer good will, but when you dive into the business, it is very great odds, if there be not some timber to sell, some corn to buy, a shoe to set, a question to ask, or some such politick and inveigling [...].

I am very glad, Tim, to hear thee give such apt instance: it is a sign that thou beginnest to under­stand my Doctrine, and to be satis­fied therewith.

O, Sir, I am so wonder­fully satisfied, that I am even ready to split again with satisfaction. For now I plainly perceive what it is which justly and morally ought to be called seeking society for it self; to wit, if the Inhabitants of every Town, once or twice in a week▪ instead of [Page 98] going to Church, or market, with­out either bell or trumpet, would naturally meet together, and like a company of Turkies get sidelong up­on a pole, and sometimes plume and gently chafe one another, and now and then put about a true love jogg to the whole company: or like a brood of ducklings for mutual consola­tion sake get close into a corner with head under wing, and make not the least noise, for fear of waking Ori­ginal sin, and the quarrelsome state of Nature; this possibly might pass for unfeigned freindship, and society without design. But if men do ei­ther give or receive, counsel [...] take advice, discourse o [...] jest, if they speak but the least word, then presently a reason is to be tickled up, that this was not society, but plo [...] and designe. Nay, if a man does but look earnestly upon another, and ask, what's a clock, it spoyles the whole integrity and sincerrity of the business, and can be nothing less than a very fetch and stratagem, [Page 99] if it be at all considered of by one that knowes the world.

I perceive, Tim, that thou hast profited but very little, by the late instances I gave thee, of peoples entring into society meerly upon designe. How ever surely thou canst not deny, that there's great safety and convenience in seeking of peace: and many a mischief there would be if it should be neglected. And there­fore, why ought not I, foreseeing those mischiefes, be said to endeavour to avoid them only out of fear, and thereupon choose society as the safest [...]ondition?

I'le give you free leave, Phi­lautus, to say that peace is better than war, in English, Latin, or any o­ther Language, upon that very ac­compt your selfe mention; but I would not have you say that that's the only or chiefe reason. For there's great difference, Philautus, in say­ing that I do this or that, meerly and only because I am afraid of a bloody nose, or broken shins: and [Page 100] in saying that I do it for a better reason; & that a legg or an arm may chance to go of, if I neglect to do it.

Upon better reason, dost thou say? what can a man spend his time better than to suspect, take heed, be watchfull and afraid? and dost thou think that thou canst ever find out any other reason to make the four men of Pines compound, besides fear?

Yes, I have one worth ten of that, (which I shall give you by and by:) and moreover not only shew you that in all justice and equi­ty they ought to compound, but also what terms they ought to offer towards an accommodation?

I prethee, Tim, which will certainly beat, the French or Dutch? which sinkes the first Ship, and where will the wind be upon the fifteenth of May? poor creature! that thou should thus cut out work for thy own disparagement, and engage before hand to be silly! and yet because it shall never be [Page 101] said, that Tim wanted meanes of growing wiser, I care not much if I fling away one demonstration more upon thee, to prevent if pos­sibly, this great plot thou hast laid to discredit thy self: whereby it will experimentally appear, that men at first were not only in a state of war, & did as it were lay down their wea­pons, and combine out of meer fear: but that the state of war really is not yet ended, nor ever will be. For that every man is still to this very day a­fraid of every man; and (now observe me Tim,) that this is a naturall taint and infection that runs through the whole humane blood: and is so deep­ly seated therein, that it will never be utterly wash'd out till Doomes-day.

Always provided, that you had excepted your servant Timothie from being afraid of every body. For as fierce as you look, Sir, he is not in the least afraid of you.

what? I hope (whilst I am endeavouring to cure thee of thy [Page 102] errors) thou dost not intend to huff▪ quarrel and challeng me. I don't much like the very phrases that belong to [...]ighting.

I intended no affront at all to you, Sir, for there's abun­dance more that I am not afraid of.

Then upon my word, it is for want of judgement and common observation. I confess now and then, Tim, I have met some rash incon­siderate youngsters (like thy self) who would try to be of thy opinion, and pertly to contradict me would gain­say themselves. And to such I use to say thus. ‘What mean you Gentle­men to approve of that in your discourses, which your actions per­fectly disavow? Do you not see all countries, though they be at peace with their neighbours, yet guarding their frontiers with armed men, their Towns with walls and ports, and keeping con­stant watches? Do you not see even in well governed States, where there are Lawes and punishments appoin­ted [Page 103] for offenders, yet particular men travel not without their sword by their sides for their defences, neither sleep they without shut­ting not only their doors against their fellow subjects, but also their Trunks and Coffers against do­mesticks? Can men give a clearer testimony of the fear and distrust they have each of other, and all of all; and that the first stop that was put to the state of war, was upon the accompt of fear, and that it is not yet quite ended? & therefore are you not asham'd to fight against your selves, that you may quarrel me?’ Thus I use to school over such small objectors, and little observers of humane af­faires.

And I pray, Sir, how did they use to take such a demonstration? and what did thy use to say again?

E'en as much as thou art a­ble to say now. What dost think all people in the world are a­malepert as thy self [...], and talk a­gain, [Page 104] when there is nothing to be said?

However, Philautus, if I had been there, rather than my tongue should have catch'd cold, I'd have said over the alphabet, or some­what or other; if it had been only this. viz. We see indeed Castles, Walls, Draw-bridges, Guards, Guns, Swords, Doors, Locks, and the like. But surely it is not absolute­ly necessary to say that all this care is taken and these defences made, because Humane Nature at first was, and in generall still is a Whore, a Bitch, a Drab, a Cut-purse, &c. But because there be Doggs, Foxes, Hoggs, Children, Fooles, Madmen, Drunk­ards, Thieves, Pyrats and Philauti­ans. And upon that accompt (con­sidering the wickedness of the world) it is a most dangerous and frightfull thing to leave the Dairy-door open: for who knowes, but on a suddain the Sow, having some small scruples about meum and tu­ [...]m, may rush in with her train of [Page 105] little thoughts, and invading the Milk-bowles should rejoyce in the confusion. And in like manner I am almost throughly convinced, that if I have a Diamond of consider­able value, it is not the safest way to fling it into the shoe-hole, or to lay it in the window amongst the Bay-leaves: because perhaps the waggish Ratts, to make me spend candle, may carry it away, and hide it up in the cock-loft; or a child may have a mind to try whether it will sink or swim, or may swallow it instead of a new fashioned Sugar plumb; or lastly because I may chance to have a [...]ervant, who being not well dried of the state of nature, may make use of the members of his body to remove it from the place where I laid it. And I must needs tell you, Philautus, if a friend or so should intend me a visit, who, I was sure, did really believe no good or evil before the Statutes of the Kingdome, I should count my self in all prudence ob­lig'd, to set a very strong lock up­on [Page 106] my mustard pot. But to go on, Philautus, you observe besides from Constables and watches, that man is a most dreadfull creature: but be­fore you be very sure of that conclu­sion, I would have you call to mind, that there be such things in the world as madmen, who may get from their fetters, and fall to [...]iring of houses: and there be such things as Quakers and fift Monarcy-men, whose religious frenzy may disturb the peace: and there be also such things which in the morning were true lawfull men, who by night with intemperance have lost that privi­ledge: and these for a time may be as troublesome in the streets, as a wild Boar or Ox: And lastly there may be here and there some besides, call'd Pilferers, and Thieves, who count it a piece of dull pedantry to live by any set forme and profession, or to be guided by any reason, or to stand in any Lawes: and for you to conclude from hence, that Hu­mane Nature in general' is a shirking, [Page 107] rooking, pilfering, padding nature, is as extravagant, as to say that the chief of mankind are perfectly di­stracted, and that the true state of nature is a state of perpetuall drink­enness. And what if most Nations have Guards, and Castles, and be upon defence? you must not in­fer that all men are Rogues, because Alexander had a mind to try an ex­periment, and to see how much mischief he could doe in his whole life-time: or because the Caesars spoiled many Kingdomes, & brought them into slavery, for the excel­len jest of pure Latin, and Roman liberty: or because the Turk gave two pence for a Pigeon to tell him from above that all the earth was his. You know, Philautus, our own Nation never wanted Horses, Ships, Men and valour to have tramp­led down many of its Neighbours: but such have been the equity and generosity of our Kings as (un­less highly provoked) to stay at home.

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You never found that I as­serted that all the people in the world are shirks and raskals: But I may confidently assert that there be some; and seeing that we do not know them, and cannot distinguish them from the good, there's a necessity (as I tell you in my Epistle) of suspecting, heeding, anticipating, subjugating, and self-defending.

I pray do so much as under­stand me, Philautus; I am not a­gainst your putting all those words and forty more into practice. Ride with eight suspecting pistols, and half a dozen heeding swords: Let a file of anticipating Musqueteers walk con­stantly before you, and as many sub­jugating ones behind; plant a de­fending blunderbuss upon the top of your stairs; put on a head-piece in­stead of a quilted cap, and sleep in perfect armour: or if this be not sufficient, beg leave of his Majesty that you may have a bed set up in the Exchequer, or surrender your self every night to the Lievtenant of [Page 109] the Tower; and let him be extraor­dinarily obliged, that you awake in safety next morning. In short, take as much care of your self, as you think most just, (for you know your worth best;) but from your own di­strust and fear, I do earnestly desire that you would not determine any thing concerning the general disposi­tion and temper of humane nature; and that if a mouse comes to lick the save-all, you would not alarum the whole Christian world, and cry out that the Turk is landed. This I say is all that I desire of you; for when you tell us that there be Thieves, and that we don't know them, and if we did, we do not know what day we may meet them, this was very well and very fully understood by every Carrier and Drover many years before you writ your Politicks: and now since you have such an excellet gift of making things plain, be pleased to exercise a little upon t'other reason, why men that are in the state of nature do [Page 110] choose to enter into society. For, as for people compounding out of [...]ear, or not seeking society for its own sake, I now fully understand. As I remember you seemed to say further, that society was a thing meerly by chance, because that no man in the state of nature could have any right or pretence to any part of this World.

I s [...]orn to be one of those that seem only to say things: If there be any doubt, I say nothing; if there be none, then I speak, declare and publish. And therefore I do now make it known, that no man whilst he is in the state of nature has right or title to so much as one foot of Land or spire of grass. And now my mouth is open, I do declare further, that whereas a company of Meta­physical Term-drivers do love to talk of intrinsecal and essential right and wrong, good and evil, and the like; they are every one utterly besotted, there being no such thing at all, but what the Magistrate pleases so to ap­point.

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As for the latter part of your declaration, I shall not meddle with it as yet: but of the former I am obliged to take present notice: Wherein you say, that by nature no man has any right to any part of this world; which if true, then our four natural Gallants have perfectly lost their Journey, and must forthwith entreat the Sun, to draw them back again; there being no living here, unless they might take and enjoy what they find.

I prethee, Tim, what figure is this objection in? Thou talkest just as if thou camest reeking hot from Barbara—I must therefore teach thee that these people that came late­ly down, are very wellcome, and may live very happily; if they en­deavour, and agree so to live: But till they have agreed and bargained, not any one of them can possibly claim any peculiar right or interest in the very least spot of the whole Island.

Your instructions, Sir, I [Page 112] thank you begin now to enter; be­cause Ionas Moore is not as yet come to divide, and set out the ground, and to call this piece starve-crow, and t'other long acre; and because the white posts or blew balls are not as yet up at Roger's doore; and that Dick has not determined what livery to give, and what coat of arms to set upon his sheeps backs; and be­cause there are no hedges, ditches, or walls to keep asunder the Inhabi­tants cattle: Therefore say you, none of these have any reason to demand the least right to any part of the whole Island. You know, Sir, a man may have a right to a fourth, eighth, or any other part of a ship, though he be not able to say, this rope is mine; and t'other is my neighbours: And a hundred several men may have a common, and yet certain right to a piece of ground, and yet never a one of them can set forth, that his share lies just at the gate, and another man's next the water side.

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This is said so like one not capable of improvement, that I am asham'd to be seen in thy company: For when thou talkest of common rights, I am confident thou meanest such grounds as are called Commons (where the Town herd and Town geese go) which are held by as much bargain, and covenant as thou holdest thy hat or coat by.

To be just and honest, Phi­lautus, I did mean so, I profess: And I said it on purpose to see how an­gry you would be, at one of your own sort of tricks, when put upon you by another.

I do abominate all such tricks, and those that devised them. If you'l hear sence, then attend: When I say that no man by nature can have any estate or right; I don't only understand thereby, that Roger is not as yet fixed in the East, nor the rest in their particular quarters: but till they have bargained, they can make no claim to any part or pro­portion whatever, either in equity, [Page 114] right, law or justice. Surely thou canst not be so ignorant, but one of those words will fall to thy share to understand.

I thank you, Sir, that you were so generous, as to give me such choice: For now I understand you as fully, as if you had blown up your meaning into my head with a quill. For as much as Roger forgot to bring his black box of Evidences, and transferred rights along with him; and thereupon has not been able as yet to obtain a Decree in Chauncery, or a Verdict at Common law for his share; therefore Roger has none, no [...] in reason is likely to have any. What, would you have had him to have tied up twelve Iudges in a corner of his handkerchief, and brought down Westminster Hall in his trowzes?

I shall not now be so idle as to say what I'd have him to have done: But I'le tell thee, Tim, what I would have such a child as thou art to do, (unless thou art very ea­ger of continuing a fool) namely; [Page 115] ask thy self, or that same thing with­in thee▪ which silly people have got a custom of calling Conscience, whe­ther thou now hast, or ever hadst any thing in thy whole life, or right to any thing but by Covenant, con­tract and law.

I shall do it, Sir, immediat­ly. Here, where art thou (as they call thee) Conscience? Come forth and let Tim (according to Philautus's advice) ask thee a question. How camest thou by those shoes? By what means and upon what design didst thou acquire a right and pro­priety in them, and dominion over them? Did thy feet bud, and bring forth shoes? Don't cogg now and shuffle, but speak plain, for very much depends hereupon. Consc. Truly, Tim, having looked a little into the World, and Antient Writers, and ob­serving that some stones were very hard, some very sharp, and others very dirty, for fear I should bruise, cut or offend the lower part of the man called the feet; I thought fit [Page 116] to treat with a Shoemaker; and af­ter some parly and overtures we come at last to close covenant: And, as I was saying before, for fear of catch­ing cold I took the shoes, and for fear he should never see me again, he took my money.

And thus thou wouldest find it, Tim, if thou shouldest examine thy self from top to toe. Viz. That every thing thou hast or ever hadst, is all upon some immediate or fore­going compact: Neither is there any natural way of distinguishing be­tween meum and tuum, but only by such means as I have laid down.

Truly, Phila [...]tus, I am very nigh of your opinion: Viz. That it would be a very hard matter for the most cunning and experienced Mid­wife to distinguish exactly between a child that is born Lord of a Man­nour, and a Tenant. Unless such as the first were born with the Court­rolls in their mouth, or had all stars in their forehead; and the latter had all shorn manes and cropt eares. You [Page 117] have been several times, Philautus, angry, since we began to discourse; it [...]s time, I think, for me to be so now.

With whom?

E'en with your own Politi­cal self, as old as you are: For you go and appoint a company of people to come, I know not whence; and to bring with them nothing but their pure personalities; and to arrive at a place, where's not the least Custom, Law, or Statute: And then in your discourse you fetch all your Argu­ments from want of such Customs, Laws, and Statutes. That is, I'le suppose an Island where there's not so much as one dogg: And then I'le determine, that jus shall signifie no­thing in the world but a dogg; and then I will conclude against all man­kind, that if Roger comes thither, he shall not have a bit of right: i. e. he will find never a dogg. If you suppose, Philautus, suppose one thing with another, viz. that which is possi­ble: As for your state of nature [Page 118] (though it be sufficiently extrava­gant) yet I was resolved to keep you company; and to be either for mushroomes or bubbles, or bladders, or teeth, or cherry-stones, or any thing that could be devised. But when you determine with your self that there shall be no Acts of Parliament, and yet all the while reason so, as if there were such, I must confess that I must then leave you.

Now have I no mind at all to part with the: but to put my self into such an odd kind of displeasure, as to suffer thee to talk on without pity; only to see how far thou wouldest abuse thy self, if thou hadst but thy full swing. And therefore I do say again, that where there is no Law, there can be no right. Now, it is five to one, if thou dost not prate presently: do so, thy whole gut full. Perhaps this may bring thee into some moderation, and beter respect of those that are aged.

Truly under favour, Sir, [Page 119] I am thinking thus—

Nay, for thinking, think till thy heart strings crack: but that won't satisfie thee, for thou must prate I know.

Yes, Sir: Suppose a man pays down five thousand pounds for an Estate; and accordingly receives writings before sufficient witnesses: And it happens that the following night his writings are all burnt, and his witnesses all die. What law now has he for his money? His convey­ances are gone towards the Moon, and his witnesses t'other way.

Thou dost not understand, that he of whom the Estate was pur­chased, may be brought upon his oath: There's law, Tim, that thou didst not think of.

But I'le have that man the same night to die also; and his Heir shall be five hundred miles off, when the bargain was made. This is much easier to suppose, Philautus, than to make men out of bladders. Now here's no Law in the case for the [Page 120] Purchaser; but he has much right and reason on his side.

This 'tis to talk of Law and not understand it: I say there's no reason at all that he should ever have, or enjoy the least part of the Estate. For if this were allowed, whenever a man wanted a good house, and gardens, it were but say­ing that his witnesses are dead, and his writings lost, and he might e'en pick his seat whereever he pleased.

I grant you, it is not reason­able, i. e. it is not convenient that there should be room made for such pretenses: But the man notwith­standing hath never the less right to the Estate: which consisted in the bargain and true performance of Covenants; not in the Parchments, wax and witnesses, which are requi­site only by reason of death, mi­stakes, forgetfulness, ambiguity of words, knavery, and the like.

And art thou now so very [...]illy as to dream that any of this is against [Page 121] me? For thou hast given an instance of right in a Common-wealth; where there's bargaining and Law: And our business lies all this while about the state of nature, where there's neither one nor t'other. But indeed how can any thing less impertinent be possibly expected from such who having only gone through a course of the praedicaments—

And run over your race of the Passions: I pray don't forget that.

Who, I say, having saved to­gether a few Academical shreds, and pedantically starched up a few di­stinctions and trifles got from the Schools, shall prate and swagger, as if they were well acquainted with both the Poles, and every thing that lies between them.

And as if they could square the circle, as well as your self: Let that come in I beseech you. It was most pedantically done of the Vni­versity Doctour; that when you had so painfully squared it for the general [Page 122] good of mankind, he should spight­fully go and unsquare it again. But hold, Sir, we forget our selves: For we are in a state of nature or war, and we fall to complementing, as if the peace were concluded: And therefore I shall return to my in­stance concerning Right and Law. Which, now I tell you, Philautus, I gave not, intending therein any great store of proof, (much less any demonstration, as you use to do) but I did it only to supple and soften you into a little less difficulty of di­stinguishing between that which is right and reasonable, and that which is according to the Laws of the Realm.

What, dost talk of suppling of me, Tim? I prethee go home and put thy head into a pipkin, and there stew it, till thou gettest more wit. What, dost think, because I look up­on my body as a good considerable thing, that therefore I am so great a Coward as to submit to nonsence, and comply with impossibilities; and to be mistaken only because it is the [Page 123] general fashion? I shall not do so, indeed Tim: supple and soften as long as you will. And therefore to ruine all your hopes at once, I do say that those four men that we have supposed in the state of Nature, have not the least right to any part of the Island; not only because their share or portion is not as yet bounded and marked out, or because they cannot require any part by Humane law: but besides, because Nature has given to every one of them an absolute, compleat, total right to every thing that's there to be found.

What has Nature given to Dick; suppose, a right to the whole Kingdom: with all the profits, priviledges, perquisites, and appur­tenances?

I prethee, Tim, climb up some high Steeple or Tower, and wonder there. I have other busi­ness to do than to stay only to see thee stare at sunshine truths and de­monstrations. What I have said, I have weighed, which young toys, [Page 124] as thou art, never do.

Then truly Dick has reason to speak very laudably of Nature; for he's in a very fine thriving condi­on. I'le have the Rogue add a pair of horses more to his coach, and to keep two foot-boys, one for sack and another for claret; in Liveries an­swerable to the colour of their du­ties. I am resolved he shall never fit but in a box, drink nothing but flaskes, eat nothing that has an En­glish name, and wipe his mouth only with Indian Almanacks. But how shall poor Roger make shift to live? He must e'en try, to earn his penny with lighting home Norfolk Attour­ney's Clerks.

Thou art so infinitely unca­pable, Tim, that one had as good pick up old rags for paper, as labour to make thee understand. For if thou hadst any brains thou mightest know, that Nature has given to Ro­ger all, notwithstanding Dick's grant.

Say you so? Then rise up [Page 125] Roger, and tumble down Dick.

I prethee, Tim, away present­ly, and according as I gave order, set on thy head; for it will never make shift to do, as it now lies. Who, except Tim, but would easily have apprehended, how that Roger might have a right to it all, notwith­standing Dick to all of it had a right?

Oh the wonderful works of a black pudden with anchovie-sance! This 'tis to have joyned Logick with Mathematicks! For take one for cunning, and t'other for soundness, and betwixt them both, they'l make up such a title, as would have pusled old Prin himself to have found out a pattern of it. But what becomes of Tumbler and Towser all this while? The World certainly is very low with them: For if Dick has got All, and Roger has got the same All, over, besides, and notwithstanding; the Devil is of it, if between them both they don't keep out t'other two.

I am quite tired with calling [Page 126] thee fool, though I perceive the oc­casion increases very much. I don't say that Dick and Roger have got it all; but I say they have got a right to get it all, and so have the rest.

And may Dick or any other of them, in right and reason, get it all, if they can?

I prethee step to the gate, and ask the Porter that. Must I spend my self to tell thee again, that we are in the state of Nature; in which, whatever a man has a mind to do, and can do, he may do.

Why so? What, because may and can are of the same Mode and Tense, or that possum is Latin for them both?

No; thou perverse trifler; that's not the reason: But because in the state of Nature, there's no diffe­rence at all between May and Can.

That is; because Roger has a vocal instrument between his chin and his nose, called a mouth, and being not muzled, gagged or cop'd; but having a free power, faculty or [Page 127] May to open it, and order it as he think fit; therefore he May stretch it out as wide as he please, and swear quite cross the Island, that he'l have the whole, or at least half: And be­cause he has other instruments called hands, which have an ability of holding and directing a knife; there­fore again he May make use thereof to cut the throats of all his Countrey­men. And when he has done this; if he be not tired, and his hands does not much shake, he May also cut his own.

Surely I ought not to forgive my self this Month for beeing with­in the noise of such childish talk. My reason that Roger, whilst in the state of Nature, may do any thing (except hurting himself) or require any thing, was because he cannot be injurious or unjust to any man: In­jury or injustice being the breach of some Humane laws, such as in the state of Nature there be none. Do so much, as go to thy Dictionary, Tim, and see if injuria and in­justitia [Page 128] be not deriv'd of jus.

I perceive we are wheel'd about to Westminster Hall again: notwithstanding you promised not to come there any more. And in­deed I see now, Philautus, 'tis in vain to expect any better reason from you, why Roger may get and possess what he list: by reason what you said just before, viz. that, that only was injustice which was the breach of some humane law, is in your own Annotations upon the tenth Article of your first Chapter▪ So that we see whereabouts we still are: the Parliament is not as yet met, or at least have not as yet made any Lawes, and wee'l call no­thing unjust, but what shall be done against somewhat that they after­war [...] shall establish: and so we are come again into the old story of the dogg: and no further are we likely to proceed, unless we change injury and injustice for some other words. And therefore let's try, Phi­lautus, if Roger may not doe that [Page 129] which is hurtfull or mischievous, or that which is unreasonable. As suppose, when all the rest are asleep, he should contrive some way to pluck out all their eyes, and to suck them instead of raw eggs. 'Tis very ingenious, and not the least mis­chiefe or hurt at all: for the Par­liament have not as yet declar'd that blindness is any inconveni­ence; nor that such as should oc­casion it in others, ought to be pu­nish'd.

Thou thinkest now that thou talkest wisely: and 'tis as like a Woodcock as can be. For if Roger's stomach require it, or he thinkes that it does, Roger may certainly doe it.

Yes, yes: He may doe it several ways, either with a Steletto, or a Penknife, or a pair of Pincers, or many other ways. And so he may contrive to lop off a legg of each of them: and when the Parliament meet, if they find it unjust, they may vote it on again. But because [Page 130] we may take occasion to talk a lit­tle more of this by and by, wee'l go on, and see if these people may not be guilty of doing or re­quiring that which is unreasonable.

I don't at all see how.

That is, because you are so busie in weighing of Kingdoms, and making remarkes upon humane af­fairs, that you don't mind your own writings. For if you did, you might there find that in your very state of Nature, the will is not the only mea­sure of right, and that therein a man may be guilty of doing of that which is unreasonable.

I do not know why I should say so, or any thing like it.

Why you said it I know not: and I suppose it had been bet­ter for you not to have said it, be­cause it contradicts much of your designe: but thus you say at the beginning of the forementioned A [...] ­notations, Though a man in the state of Nature cannot be injurious to another, because there are as yet [Page 131] no Hum [...]ne Lawes; yet in such a state he may offend God, or break the Lawes of Nature: which very Lawes, you your self call the Lawes of rea­son. So that you have no way to come cleaverly off, but to devise some cunning distinction between breaking a Law of reason, and doing that which is unreasonable.

What dost think, Tim, that [...]t these years, and after so much experience, and after so many victo­ries in discourse, that I will be taught by such a whister as thou art, to come off. It is sufficient at present, to the case in hand, to [...]ay that nothing can be done or de­manded unreasonably as to the matter of meum and tuum.

You had best have a care of granting any kind of thing whatever to be unreasonable in the state of Na­ture: because you know the Magistrat has not as yet sealed and stamp'd good and evil: but [...] that pass now. Sup­pose then that they should fight for the Island. Shall we give them [Page 132] a second view, and another loose? we had best not. For you know, as you teach us: that men by Na­ture are all equal. i. e. though Roger may chance to have huge Leggs, yet Dick may have the quicker eye: and though Tumbler may have a very large fist, and a great gripe, yet Tow­ser may be in better breath, and have longer nailes.

No: no: I prethee don't let them fight by any meanes; for that is so very foolish and unreason­able, that it is unreasonable to hear of it.

Well: imagine then that they doe not fight: may not Roger, when they come to treat, demand more than his share? as suppose (as was before hinted) he should de­mand half.

So he may, if he please; and get it too: there's no Vnder-sheriff to hinder him: neither has he sub­scribed to any agreement, nor sworn that he'l be content with less.

But he ought in reason [Page 133] and equity to be content with less.

I prethee, Tim, with how much less? Thou lookest as if thou couldst tell to an inch.

So I can. For he ought to be content just with a fourth part.

This surely is very plea­sant! Why so Tim?

Because you say that he has a right to no more.

Where and in what company did I ever say, that Roger had a right but to a fourth part? but that I don't care to talk of dying, or else I'd be hang'd if I ever said any such thing in my whole life.

You said it just now. For you said that Roger has a right to the whole Island, and Dick has a right to the whole, and Tumbler and Tow­ser have each of them a right also to the whole. And now shew me if there be any difference at all be­tween four men having exactly the very same, same right to the whole, and one of them having a [Page 134] right to the fourth part, and no more.

Pish! Tim, thou talkest (as thou usest to doe) very weakly. For when I said that every one of them had a right to all: I meant by right—

Nay, I care not what you did mean or ever can mean by it. I'l give you leave to meane by right what you please. A Dog or a Cat or a­ny thing else. For still Dick's dog will be every whit as good as Roger's, and Towser's Cat as big as Tumbler's. And so the case will be the same.

If I may not be suffered, Tim, to make an end of my sentence, who have instructed above these threescore years, I shall be gon.

Not so, I pray, Sir: You shall say what you please, for indeed I had like to have forgot your age and privilege.

I say then, that there can be no right to any part of this world by Nature. For we see people dwell in their Fathers houses, and pos­sess their ancestors estates: and all [Page 135] by custom and right of Law.

You said all this many times before: and I say so too: and you know I told you, how I got an in­terest in these shoes; and I could tell you also that I got my Gloves by a meer stratagem, and that I hold them only by the Lawes of the Realm. But we must not conclude, Phila [...]tus, because most of the world is now shar'd out, and by Gift, For­tune, Labour, Learning and other means gain'd and possessed; that therefore if four men, with equall pretences, shall fall upon a place ne­ver sought for, nor possessed, one of these (if he so pleases) may in good reason broile all the rest, to see what mouthes and faces they'l make upon the coals.

This is nothing: give me in short all that you have said, or can say to prove that the foremention­ed people have any right to any part of Pines: and I don't at all question, but that I shall disco­ver all that thou hast said to be [Page 136] very empty and Scholastically dull.

I say thus: the men that we [...]upposed are true Natural men, the place they come to, is perfectly unpossessed, they all arrive with e­quall pretences, and you your self besides have given them an equall right. And I know nothing want­ing, unless like snayles each of them should have brought their houses on their heads, and rid down strad­ling upon their hundred acres: which might have stretch'd their thighs, and would have spoyled the supposition. This is that which I have to say, which I venture on­ly to think reasonable. Now for your opinion, you have offered no­thing but a company of impossible things (excepting only that May and Can is all one) such as mens shaking hands at a mile's distance, treating and [...] bargaining before they speake, Acts of Parliament before there be any Parliament, and the like, and this you take your ac­customed liberty to call demonstra­tion.

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I thought I should take thee in some foolery or other: thou talk­est of these peoples coming toge­ther, and thereupon of having e­quall pretences; and thou forget­test all this while that possession and invention (as they call it) are pieces of meer positive humane Law, not of any Natural right. If thou wilt call upon me one day, I'le shew thee how to turn the Books, where thou mai'st find abundance a­bout them.

I believe I might: and a­bout a hundred things more, that are never the less equitable and rea­sonable in themselves, because they are to be found in the Law of Nati­ons, or the particular Law of any Kingdom.

What, can that be intrinse­cally and in reason good or bad, that is made so by Constitution or Canon?

What think you, Philautus, of a man's hanging himself? is there any intrinsecal Natural evil in it?

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Evil! there' [...] Death in the case: the chiefest of all natural evils.

So I remember you say ( Cap. 1. Art. 7.) but there is the severest Law against him that does it, that can be devised; unless he could be fetch'd to life, and hang'd again. For he forfeits all his Estate. Do you hear me, Sir?

Yes: But I am not of such a young mans mind, as you are: neither do I ever intend to be.

That's spoken like a Philo­sopher indeed.

It is spoken like one, that good manners might oblige you, to be more attentive to. Do you think, Tim, that towards my last dayes (which I hope will never come) [...]'le alter my opinion, upon such childish and insignificant per­swasions as thine? And believe that a man can have any Naturall right or title to Land, when I so certain­ly know, that in general there's no kind whatever of just or unjust, [Page 139] right or wrong, good or evil, but what the Magistrate does signe and determine?

Upon my word, Philautus, you improve very much as to dar­ingness in your assertions. For see­ing that we have found out already in the very state of Nature just, and unjust, as to absolute dirt and Earth, I hope we shall be able with much more ease, to find out a little good and evil.

You must have better eyes, than ever I met any body had yet.

However I'le bestow a little looking; and I hope I shall not lose it altogether so much, as they that went to see the invisible dogg. Especially, Philautus, if you will but continue couragious, and when you talk of justice, not fetch about as you did before to my Lord Chief Iustice, and Iustices of the Peace, and the like.

What need you fear my giv­ing back? when as you'l find it Prin­ted [Page 140] in my Preface, that there are no Authentical Doctrines concerning just and unjust, right and wrong, good and evil, but what is so determined by the constituted Laws in each Realm and Government. And by those, to whom the Supreme has committed the interpretation of his Laws.

When you jumble all those words together, Philautus, viz. just, unjust, &c. I phansie that you still lie upon the old cheat. And because by Bargain, Indenture or Patent, I hold such a Farme, such a Coale­mine, or such and such Priviledges; therefore I must send for a Lawyer to draw me up a Conveyance for mo­desty and mercy; and get the Broad­seal to give me title to be faithfull and sober.

Thou talkest of Titles and Conveyances; thou wantest some bo­dy to make over a little understand­ing to thee. For what can be more intelligible than just and un­just? but yet because my Book might possibly meet with such a toole as [Page 141] thou art, I added besides wright and [...]rong.

You know, Philautus, (as was before hinted) that that's as very a fetch, as t'other. For, be­cause of the relation that is between jus and lex, we face presently about again to Freehold and Coppyhold, to Messuages and Appurtenances.

Because, Tim, I would glad­ly be rid of thee; thou shalt put in lawful and unlawful: My side is so true, that I may give thee leave to pick thy words.

Now you are sweet indeed: for you suppose a time, wherein there's no Law: And then to use your own words, by firm reasons you demonstrate that no Law can be bro­ken during that time: and he that does thus, say you (meaning your self) is to be looked upon as a great dispeller of clouds, and as one that shews the high way to peace, and that teaches to avoid the close, dark and dangerous by-paths of Faction, and I know not what more.

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What a slavery 'tis, to do one good, that labours so hard against it!

You need not trouble your self any further, Philautus; for you have your self put in two words that will fully try the business, viz. good and evil. Each of which, say you, are to be determined by the Supreme Power.

Yes: I say it; and I am sure no man is able to contradict me: For who is so fit to judge what is good or evil, as the Supreme Power? and what shall direct or determine his opinion but his own plea­sure.

I'le tell you what shall di­rect him—

Hold: do you know what you are going to say? [...]ex in regno suo—Stat pro ratione voluntas. Supremus sive summus. What, Tim, art thou so utterly barren, that thou hast neither Divinity, Poetry, nor Gram­mar within thee? Thou speakest of a supreme power, and then talkest of [Page 143] his being awed and contro [...]led by somewhat else. To have such a su­preme power is not worth the smoak of a ladle. Such a one is supreme, suppose, and he thinks such a thing very good and convenient, and he [...] send it to the Pope or Emperour, [...] I know not whither, to have it [...]ouched and tried, to know whether 'twill pass.

He need not send so far; he may consult common equity, and his own reason; which will not only direct him, in determining of those things that are indifferent, or in con­troversie (which are the proper ob­ject of such authority;) but which will acquaint him and all mankind besides (excepting Philautus) that there be several things most firmly and undoubtedly good in themselves, and will continue so, let all the Su­premes in the World meet together to Vote them down; and there be o­thers which are so famously bad and unreasonable, that all the P [...]inces up­on earth (if they should conspire) [Page 144] can never set them up, and give them credit.

And is not this very pragma­tical, and somewhat treasonish be­sides, to go about to confine the Power of the Supreme Magistrate, who is therefore called and acknow­ledged such, from his undeniable and irresistable pleasure? And therefore, say I again, he ought most certainly to determine all things.

So say I, if they be not too nimble for his Power, and determine themselves before his Supremacy can get hold of them. And truly, Phi­lautus, the Magistrate has no reason at all to be angry, or to think himself checked & affronted; if there be some such things that decree themselves to be good and bad, long before Terme begins; viz. in that same supposed Vacation of yours, the state of Nature. For, when he comes to open, and give sentence, he will not only find much work done to his hands, but he'l find besides that hereby he'l be very much assisted towards well go­verning, [Page 145] and towards his deciding such matters as require deciding, and which do belong to his place and profession to decide. But as for those things we have been now speaking of, he must not by any means go about to alter or repeal them: For, if he should, it would be altogether as vain, as to call a Council to make two and three to be nineteen; or to issue out an order against the next Eclipse, or to mount all the Canons at the Tower against the next spring-tide that should offer to come up to London-Bridge.

Certainly, Tim, these same unalterable and irrevocable goods and bads that thou talkest of in the state of Nature are very fine things. The Magistrate, thou sayst, did not make them; I wonder who did, whence they came, and who brought them?

They came down, Sir, the last great rain, we talked of a while ago; for the very same four men that brought word to Pines, that [Page 146] the Whole is equal to all its par [...]; and that if four have equal right to the whole, each have a right to the fourth part; brought also abun­dance of moral rules, that is of goods and bads, reasonables and unreason­ables.

Abundance dost say? I don't think that thou hast enough to stop a hollow-tooth. I would brush up my eyes most mightily, if thou wouldest but shew me one of those rarities. But I am afraid that they are like those same perpetual Lamps, that some Philosophers speak of, which have got a trick of going out al­ways when people go to see them.

What think you of drunk­enness, Philautus? Is it a thing al­together indifferent, till the Magi­strate has given his opinion in the case?

Truly, Tim, I must tell you, that whilst Dick, Roger, and the rest continue in the state of Nature, they may take a cup of the creature with more freedome and less inconveni­ence, [Page 147] than thou dost imagine. For the windows are not as yet glazed, nor the Constables chosen: and if one of them having received an oc­casion of being more than ordinary thoughtful, should, by chance, set his foot not exactly in the path; here's no breach of Law, Trespass or Action in the Case, because the Land as yet stands wholly undivided.

But it is not very bad husban­dry to make an hundred steps for that, which might have been done as well with forty?

Now, Tim, I advise thee to take leave of thy friends; for thou hast said that, which will prove thy utter destruction. I do grant indeed that intemperance is very silly and unreasonable; not because it is so in it self, but because (now, Tim, keep thy eye fixed) I say again, but be­cause 'tis inpolitick, and perfectly against my interest: for it makes me obnoxious to many dangers, and several diseases; and besides it de­stroys and weakens the use of my [Page 148] reason, and so renders me unable either to defend my estate from cheats, or my life and limbs from such as are quarrelsom.

Truly, Philautus, I did ne­ver look upon temperance to be al­together so good to kill Rats, as Arsnick and Raysons; nor to carry one over the water, as a sculler or oares: But if there be any reason to be given, why it ought to be ap­proved of before the contrary, be­sides the Magistrates determination therein, then (as was before menti­oned) you are not so great a dispeller of Clouds, as you promised to be, when you said, that by firm reasons you would demonstrate that there was no good or evil till the Supreme Power had set it out: and therefore at pre­sent I resolve to defer speaking to self interest; and shall shew you ano­ther rarity. What think you of faithfulness, i. e. of keeping your promise, or standing to your bar­gain? Is it not a very reasonable thing, though there were never a [Page 149] Magistrate in the whole World?

You talk of shewing me ra­rities, Tim; and you draw out some of my fundamental wares: for to perform Contracts, or to keep trust is my second Law of Nature. That is, when people are resolved to end the state of war, by relinquishing their right to all things, it is very requi­site that Contracts should be stood to, for they direct to peace and self-defence.

But is it not a good and rea­sonable thing in it self to perform Contracts, in the very state of na­ture?

What time didst thou go to bed last night, Tim? What, would you have a thing good, before there be any such thing at all? You ask whether it be not good to stand to Contracts; when 'tis supposed, that there has not been so much as one ragg dealt for in the whole world.

For all that, I can conceive it very just and reasonable for a man to keep his word, although he ne­ver [Page 150] spoke as yet, nor perhaps never shall. For suppose there were not one drop of Liquor in the whole Island, that we have been talking of; yet I count it as unreasonable for Roger to be drunk, as if he were just ready to set the great pitcher to his mouth, and had sufficient matter to proceed upon. And it seems, I be­lieve, to most men (except your self, Philautus) a very unnatural and un­just thing for a Iudge or Arbiter to incline to either side; though there never was as yet one Case put to re­ference, nor should be these thousand years.

Thou hast gone on, Tim, in thy careless shuffling way, I know not whither: And now I must dash thee all in pieces, and tell thee; that thou talkest like one not at all con­versant in my Writings: for if thou hadst, thou wouldst there have found no less than twenty good and bad things, all fetched from reason; such as faithfulness, mercy, humility, tempe­rance, reproach, ingratitude, &c. [Page 151] which I call my Laws of Nature. But here's the pinch of the business, and that which thou didst never attend to; these things I say are good and bad, not because they are so inwardly in themselves, but because they either conduce to peace in general, or are for a man's own quiet and safety, or for his health, or profit, or recreati­on, or for the advantage of his Fa­mily or Relations, or are a hinde­rance of these: in short, because they are for, or against a man's interest.

This was a great dash in­deed, Philautus; and I have impro­ved more by it, than by all that you have said I know not how long: for if we be discoursing concerning some action, or disposition of mind that is good; and if the same chance to prove convenient either to King or Subject, Church or State, for my self or any body else, for this life or next: That is, if it be good for any thing that has but a name, then is it not good in it self, but good upon another account; which, let [Page 152] it be what it will, with a little art [...] ­fice of phrase may be so twisted, as it shall certainly be all driven upon your common shoar of interest. Truly, Philautus, I can scarce tell what you would have meant by things being good in themselves, un­less you would have them only to be pictured with pretty eyes, mouths and lips; or have a man get the vertues and hang them upon several strings, or tye them to the end of some sticks, and so sing over his most excellent and dainty Iustice, his cu­rious amiable Temperance, his bright angelical Mercy, and the like. But I might have taken much less pains, Philautus, to have shewn against you, that all good and evil does not depend either upon self interest, or h [...]mane Law; because you are so ve­ry over kind as to acknowledge it, and confute your self.

You may as well say, that the second Proposition of Euclid does con­tradict and void the first.

You may say so, if you [Page 153] please▪ but I am resolved I won't, when I see so much reason to say o­therwise.

About what place, and in what Article, canst thou possibly pick out any such absurdity?

I did shew you one place, you know, long ago; where you said, that a man in the very state of Nature might be guilty of breaking the Laws of Nature; which is all one, according to your self, as to say, that a man may act against rea­son, before there be any positive Laws; and that's all that I desire you would acknowledge: Neither do I suppose, that you did intend to excuse your self, by what you say a little after, viz. If any man pretend somewhat to tend necessarily to his pre­servation, which yet he himself doth not confidently believe so, he may of­fend against the Laws of Nature: For this is a further acknowledgement of what you said before; and shews plainly that hypocrisie in the very state of Nature is an unreasonable thing.

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You may fool your self, Tim, and gape for as many acknowledge­ments as you will: But I hold and say that the Laws of nature in the state of nature are silent; provided that they be referred not to the mind, but to the actions of men.

I remember you say this, in the second Article of your fifth Chap­ter. But, if you had not forgot, what you had said upon the 18. Art. of your 3. Chap. you would have granted that some natural Laws do more than meerly buz in the mind, during the very state of war or na­ture.

Why, what do I say there?

No great matter, Sir; on­ly I find there these words; viz. but there are certain natural Laws whose Exercise (I pray mind that word) ceaseth not even in the time of war it self: For (as you go on) I cannot understand what drunkenness or cruelty (that is revenge which respects not the future good) can advance towards peace or the pre­servation [Page 155] of any man.

Now what dost thou infer from this, Tim? What purchase dost thou intend to make?

No great purchase, Sir; on­ly I do think that the second Proposi­tion of Euclid does not altogether contradict the first so much, as these two places do one another.

And now thou thinkest, thou hast got me so fast; whereas I can come off easily only by saying, that I did not mean all the Laws of Na­ture, when I said that the Laws of nature are silent in the state of na­ture.

If you please, Sir, you may so explain your self: But however, if you your self, Philautus, will be­stow upon me only one or two Laws that ought to be observed in the state of Nature, I take it more kind­ly, than if any body else had given me half a score.

I always found it an endless thing to reason and discourse people into any soundness of mind, (especi­ally [Page 156] as to Morals) who would not make any observations of their own. And therefore I prethee, Tim, go spend one quarter of an hour in the streets, and I'le stay here; and ob­serve well, what people are doing of; and when thou comest back a­gain, I do not at all question but that thou wilt fully believe what I have taught thee to be true; name­ly, that the world is wholly disposed of, and guided by self-interest.

I need not go now, Sir; be­cause in the morning as I came hi­ther, I found it exactly so, as you say. In one place there was a man buying a cloak, as hard as ever he could, not in the least for me, but for himself wholly; and the seller he claws up the money, and without saying one word to his Neighbours, pockets it all up: In another place there was a Porter lying close upon the lurch at a Tavern-door, who, had he no interest to drive on there, might e'en as well have been here, upon the walks.

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Thou needest not speak any more, Tim, for I do say thus much unto thee, that unless thou dyest a fool, thou wilt perceive that interest is the very first principle of Nature, and reason; and that men must mind themselves if they intend to live.

Yes, Sir: So let them; if they doe not overmind themselves: and cry only Milk, when they should cry milk and water; and score up Claret, when it should be Cider. People ought, Sir, to take care of themselves: but I would not have them pick blind mens pockets, and cheat children of there Bread and Butter, and then admire their own parts, and quickness of sight. In­terest, Philautus, is a word inno­cent enough, but only when it crosses equity and reason: which, according to you, it never can doe, being the first dictate of right reason. And therefore if righteousness or mercy, or any other good thing happen to be against this my first dictate of [Page 158] right reason; I must desire them to withdraw for a time: for at pre­sent they are very troublsome and nonsence beside.

And wilt thou be so childish after all these instructions, as not to believe that interest is, and ought to be the first principle?

It must needs be the first, Sir, for that very reason your self give: (concerning seeking of peace) namely, because the rest fol­low. Which you might easily make sure of, if the Printer did not mis­place things, and so disappoint you.

I perceive Tim, that thou art much given to delight in toys, and to neglect things of moment. My main reason that self interest is to be looked upon as the first Principle of Nature was, because I found that every man was desirous of what was good for him, and sh [...]n'd what was hurtful and evil: and this he did by a certain impulsion of Nature, no less than that whereby a stone moves down­ward.

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By your leave, Philautus, I think that this reason seems to pro­mise somewhat bigger than the for­mer, but it is not so true. For though children desire, and use meanes to get all things that please them; and avoid and flie back from all things that hurt them, even as a stone comes downward: yet it is to be supposed that what men desire or avoid, they do it not as a stone comes downward, but with conside­ration and reason: and thereupon ought to submit to poverty and other inconveniences, rather than to re­proach Humane Nature, and be guil­ty of an unreasonable action. And therefore a child that pulls hard for a jewel, which cost the owner per­haps much trouble, and many dan­gerous voiages, shall be excused: but there's little reason that a great lasie Lubber that spends his time in the Chimney-corner and Ale, should snatch it away, and not cry for't first.

[Page 160]

If he and his family be ready to starve, that alters the case very much: for 'tis great pity that any rational creatures should be lost.

Starve, or not starve 'tis all one for that: for 'tis a very law­full cordial, so that it be but his opinion that he wants at present, or may afterward want. For seeing that right reason tells him that life is to be preserved: it tells him also (as you well advise Ch. 1. Art. 8.) that he must use the meanes to pre­serve it: and seeing that no man can know when another is sufficient­ly alive, so well as he himself, there­fore (as you advise further, Art. 9.) he is to judge what is requisite and convenient for that purpose. And therefore sayes the self preserver, ‘There's a company of people who, when I was out of the way, have gon and divided the world without asking my leave, or ta­king my counsell, or consent: I am sure there's no fault to be found with Nature: for she was alwayes [Page 161] very carefull, and intended eve­ry man a sufficient share. And therefore if they'l begin once more, and divide all over again, and consider all mens deserts, strength and constitution, well and good: But otherwise I see no reason to stand to this blind bar­gain they made in my absence. For I find that my stomach is very cold, and Nature that is famous for doing nothing that is Idle, oft­time calls for a glass of Wine, and (with shame to these dividers be it spoken) it comes not, for want of money. I find also that my head is much given to aking, for want of a lighter Peruke; and for want of a Boy to comb it, I had lately like to have lost the use of my Thumb. I can't doe as other people; for my flesh is so soft and gentle, that ordinary stock­ings presently plough up my Leggs: and if I have not a Watch and a few Guineas about me, I present­ly yawn and am as chill as if I [Page 162] had an Ague. And therefore, I say, I must make use of my parts, and some of Reason's dictates to preserve me from sorrows and the Grave.’

Thou hast now, Tim, talked together, more than becomes thee by fourty years. To all which I say, that I do give thee and all mankind besides leave, to shew me any thing better for peace and Go­vernment than that first principle of self-interest which I laid down, and discovered to the world.

It is strange ambition, when people will take upon them to be the Author of that of which they are not, though it be never so false and ridiculous.

Why, who did ever hold self-interest to be the first principle of Nature and Government?

Truly, I believe not ma­ny ever held it long, because it was so egregiously silly. But if you look no further than the 3d. page of an ordinary Schoole book, viz. Tully's [Page 163] Offices: you will there find that there was a sort of small philosophers that were of your opinion.

What, perhaps they talked somewhere in their writings of self-interest: but that was not the foun­dation and first principle of their Philosophy.

If summum bonum be Latin for foundation or first principle (which in morals, I suppose it is) and that suis commodis metiri signi­fie to measure by self-interest; then I tell you there were a sort of unrea­sonable people whose Philosophy stood upon your very Principle. Concern­ing whom the Oratour justly sayes, that if they lived a life exactly an­swerable to their own opinions, and were not sometimes overcome by good nature, they must be perpetuall knaves.

I don't understand what you and your Oratour meane; but this I'le swear, that if there be any knavery in my principles, I know not what will become of your Bible. [Page 164] For I tried all my Lawes of Nature which I deduc'd from self interest by that Book: and I found (as I tell you Art. 1. ch. 4.) that they are ex­actly the same, with those that have been delivered from the Divine Ma­jesty for the Lawes of his Heavenly Kingdom, by our Lord Iesus Christ, and his Holy Prophets and Apostles.

I'le tell you, Philautus, how that might be easily done: You went to the Bible, suppose, and thence pick'd out a company of very good Lawes, and then having ordered and wrested them to your own de­sign; then you go again to the Bible, and finding that they were not flown away, you cry, see here [...] what ignorant people are they that shall goe about to find fault with my principles; when as Christ and I hold forth the same Doctrine; as is plain by a whole Chapter full of Scripture which I produce?

Doe not I recommend the same justice, mercy, equity, &c. that are recommended in the Bi­ble?

[Page 165]

Yes: But you don't re­commend them every day in the week: for perhaps at present there may be no inconvenience in be­ing just and righteous: but to mor­row it may be against my interest: and the Castle-principle must never be forsaken. This is so very plain, as it need not be insisted on, and besides, it begins to be time, Phi­lautus, to think of some protection for that inward member of the bo­dy, called the stomach.

In that, Tim, I agree with thee, but in nothing else. And I am e'en sorry that I have stayed thus long: for thou hast been so perverse, that I am afraid I have done thee but little good. And so farewell.