Of Friendship.

FRiendship without Tenderness, gives neither great Content nor Disquiet; some have such an in­sensible Friendship, they can part with their Friends without Melancholy, when absent they think not of them; they render Courtesies without Plea­sure [Page 2]and receive them without Acknow­ledgment; they neglect all petty Cares, the misfortunes of those they Love touch 'em not; Generosity and Osten­tation has as much part in all they Act as Friendship; their Love is so luke­warm, that the least Contest is ready to infringe their Friendship: They Love as if they lov'd not, and their Friendship is very much interested, and built upon Self-love. We see eve­ry day these ordinary Friends without Tenderness forsake those to whom they have promised Love, as soon as Fortune frowns on 'em. There are some that cannot bear the long sickness of Friends, and care little for seeing 'em when they are no longer in a Condition to Direct them. But they are not truly Friends that have not a tender Heart; for 'tis That only that makes the sweetness of [Page 3]Friendship. Tenderness has yet some­thing more particular, it has I know not what Air of Gallantry that renders it yet more Diverting: It Inspires Ci­vility in those that are capable of it, and there is as much Difference between an ordinary and a tender Friend, as be­tween a tender Friend and a Lover.

The better to define Tenderness, it's a certain Sensibility of Heart, insepara­ble from noble Souls, virtuous Inclina­tions, and solid Minds; which makes them, when they have Friendship, have it sincerely and ardently, and have a lively Sense of the Griefs and Joys of those they Love. 'Tis this Tenderness obliges them to love better to be with their unhappy Friend, than to be in a­ny place of the greatest Diversion; It makes them excuse their Faults and Defects; It makes them do great Ser­vices [Page 4]with Joy, and not neglect the least Cares; It renders particular Conversa­tion more sweet than general; It ap­peases any Disorder which may happen among Friends, it unites their Hearts, and all their Desires: In a word, it com­prehends all the sweetness of Friend­ship, it gives the greatest Delight, and savours nothing of the irregularity of Love, but resembles it in many things else. Those of a stupid common Friend­ship take care only to keep the fairest Letters of their Friends; but those of a tender Friendship keep with pleasure their least Notes; they harken to an obliging word with Joy, and by an un­expressible Charm, those of a truly ten­der Heart find no trouble to visit those for whom they have a Friendship, tho' they be sick and Melancholy.

Friendship is the Allay of Sorrow, [Page 5]the ease of our Passion, the Discharge of our Opression, the Sanctuary to our Ca­lamities, the Councellor of our Doubts, the Clarity of our Minds, the Remissi­on of our Thoughts, and the Improve­ment of whatever we meditate. Virtue, Learning and Abilities may be despised; only Friendship is known to be so useful and profitable that none can despise it.

He that doth a base thing in Zeal to his Friend, burns the Golden thread that ties their Hearts together. The greatest Bond and Demonstration of Real Friendship, is to chuse to have his Friend advanced in Honour, in Reputation, in the Opinion of Wit or Learning be­fore himself. Certainly, Friendship is the greatest Bond in the World, which is the Marriage of Souls: It hath no other Measures but its own, being it self as great as can be express'd. Beyond [Page 6]Death it cannot go, to Death it may; Friendship being the greatest Bravery and Ingenuity in the World; He is to be chosen to my Friend who is most Worthy and most Excellent in himself; not he that can do most good to me. Chuse to your Friend him that is wise, good, secret, ingenious and honest; all which are the very food of Friend­ship. He is only fit to be my Friend that can give me Councel, or defend my Cause, or guide me Right, or relieve my Needs, or can and will, when I need it, do me Good, Comfort me in my Sor­rows, be pleasant to me in private, and useful in publick; that makes my Joy double, and divides my Grief between himself and me: Thus is Friendship the best thing in the World, and were it not for Pleasure and Profit, there were no need of Friends.

Never accuse your Friend, nor be­lieve him that doth. He that is angry for every slight Fault, breaks the Bonds of Friendship. He may be weak, and thou may'st need pardon as well as he; for thou doest not Contract with an An­gel when thou tak'st a Friend into thy Bosom; to whom give Counsel wisely and charitably in all that is prudent, useful and necessary; but leave him to his Liberty without Anger if thy Coun­cel be rejected, for Advice is no Em­pire. Love to be with him; Treat him Nobly; Do to himall that is worthy of Love; Bear with his Infirmities; Give him Gifts and upbraid him not: Admo­nish your Friend without Bitterness or Reproach, praise him with worthy pur­poses, just Causes, and friendly En­dearments; for he is not my Friend who will be my Judge whether I will or no. [Page 8]Never be a Judge between two Friends in a matter where both set their heart upon the Victory; For where Friends are the Parties, thou losest one, which of 'em soever get the day. When my Friend is dead, I will mourn for him, perform his will, and do for him as if he were alive.

Those that have a rational and ten­der Friendship will not only be secret in what they are desired, but will also be silent in some things they are told, tho' the Party do not desire it: But one ought in Generosity to have a kind of Charitable discretion for those that are not wise enough in their own Con­cerns.

Friendship is never destroy'd by Friendship; 'tis something that is stron­ger than it self must force it out of the heart 'tis once possess'd of; 'tis only [Page 9]Love can do that; for when all is done one way make new Friends without in­jury to the Old: There are Friendships on the account for Love; such as are in Love will Endeavour to make Friend­ships, whether their Friends like 'em to not like 'em. A love mixt with Friend­ship is the most lasting and is the Mi­stress of all the Qualifications requisite in a true and Generous Friend; and 'tis very possible, in my Judgment, for Love to become Friendship, and Friendship Love; tho' some will not allow a great Friendship and violent Love can subsist together in one Heart. when One has Friendship for an agreeable Lover, it wants but little of being Love.

Friendship and love do sometimes re­semble, but when that happen, the the Friendship is very tender, or the Love not very great; but I hold one [Page 10]may love with such a tender Amity, as may be a Medium between Love and Common Friendship.

There are some Friends to whom one would commit things of Importance and not Trifles; and there are some to whom one would tell Trifles but no­thing of Concern; and Love is a great Affair, and not to be enstrusted to e­very Friend. One is never secure, if our Friend be not so Exact that he will never tell our Secrets.

Pythagoras composed many Excellent Verses in praise of Heroick Friendship; he Establish't a Community among his Disciples, for he Confidently Main­tain'd there ought to be no distinct In­terest among Friends; if there be, 'tis only Society, not Friendship.

Sublime Heroick Friendship is as dif­ficult to find as Constant Love, and hard to be cultivated: the slight [Page 11]Friendships of the world are more Con­venient, though not so Noble, Excel­lent and solid; but then it never gives us much trouble, nor makes us partake of the Misfortunes of our Friends; we are not much concern'd at the In­juries they suffer, but take all the flow­ers of Friendship, and leave the thorns to those sincere and Generous Friends, that resent all their sorrows without Exception, Engage in all their In­terests, and maintain 'em couragious­ly against all the World; who have no different Fortunes, but equal concern in the Honour of each other; who can­not be poor while one is Rich, nor in Health if their Friend be sick. 'Tis not Every body is capable of this, and tho' they wish it, they cannot attain to it; therefore, for fear of the like, I'm con­tent to love according to the Mode.

I conclude this Subject with the Say­ing of the Spaniard.

Of Love.

Some affirm Tenderness a Quality more necessary for Love than Friendship. 'tis true that Affection pro­duces by the help of Reason, and which is conducted and govern'd by it, may produce the Effects of Tenderness; but Love which is commonly inconsist­ent with Reason, or at least never Sub­ject to it, it hath need of Tenderness to correct its Stupidity and Inconsiderate­ness. In Effect, Love without Tender­ness has none but impetuous Desires which cannot be confin'd; Such Lovers consider only their own Satifaction without any regard to the Honour of [Page 13]the Party beloved: Whereas true Ten­derness takes more care of the interest, credit and honour of the beloved Object, than of its own.

Almost all Lovers in general endea­vour only to please themselves without any Reservation, and have the Impu­dence in a rude, uncivil way to ask the greatest favours as if they were due to them. These free Lovers which are Enemies of Tenderness and laugh it to scorn, are commonly Insolent and full of Vanity, easy to Anger, difficult to ap­pease, Indiscreet when Favour'd insup­portable when ill heated; they fancy the greatest mark of Love they can give, is always to wish to be made happy; they value not, or at least are not contented with favourable Looks, obliging words, and all those little things which so tran­sport those that have tender souls; they [Page 14]are Lovers that read their Mistresses Letters but once over, nor have they any joyfull Emotion when they recive 'Em; they know not how to rave, speak idly, nor sigh agreeably, and are ignorant of a certain pleasing Melan choly which proceeds from the tender­ness of an Amorous Heart, and is often more agreeable than any other Delight: These noisy Lovers make all the proof of Love consist in profuse Expences, and are insensible of all the Delicacy's and inward Delights of it. This sort of Passion inspires a Brutal Jealousy, and contrary to that of a Lover, without a generous tender Heart, they not only hate the Lover but their Mistress too, but the other so respect their Mistres­ses that they often restrain their anger, against their Rival fearing to displease them.

To love well, a Lover must have a natural Tenderness before he Loves, but this rarely happens; with most, a De­licate Sensibility gives all the Punish­ments and Pleasures of Love: That Love is most perfect that has least of Self-interest in it, when Love is weaker than Reason, 'tis no perfect Love. 'Tis not to be wondred if the Love of a man of higher Condition than the person loved continue, to that Degree, that it obliges him to marry her, for Hope Enlivens and Augments the Flame, so that he wants nothing whence he may derive a full confidence of his Happy­ness if himself pleases; They are not the Lovers they would appear to be who can forbear possessing what they love out of a consideration of Interest. I am one that believes that Love which Grows with out hopes, Subsists with­out [Page 16]it, and meets with nothing but in­vincible Obstacles, is more Obliging than that which cannot but hope tho' it would not. But I am of the Opinion that what Hope do's in the hearts of these Lovers, Glory effects in the other, and that there is a secret Satisfaction in Loving a Person of great Quality that has Beauty, Wit and Virtue.

It were Madness to think one's self obliged to love any Body that loves us: Merit and Services are little consider'd unless our Acceptance sets a Value up­on them, which is best, to have Merit without Love, or Love without Merit? Fine Qualities are desirable, chiefly be cause they make us loved: Since there fore their End is to please, he that hap­pens to please without Merit, is more happy than he that hath it, yet cannot please those whom he wishes to please; [Page 17]But one can't help being fill'd with a troublesome Indignation to see Merit Neglects.

'Tis no great Difficulty to dissemble love; and when one finds a Lady that is merry, of a easy Humour and gay Spirit, 'tis a Diversion to give her a vo­luntary love which you may leave when you please, and which for the present gives you some delight; while this lasts, one may accustom one self to speak to Her more than to Another; I look on her; I praise her; I sigh artificially: sing light airs, which she takes to her self; express my self in Amorous Verses, Languishing Looks, and absolutely pretend to love her; If this pleases, she is more free and Obliging than he; she hopes all things, and feels, I know not what, which he calls love. In this slight imaginary love 'tis not like others, where love fore-runs [Page 18]Hope, but in this, Hope precedes Love. 'Tis Necessary she be not so very Com­plaisant and of too easie a Carriage; but, choose one neither too severe nor too easy; who has no particular Gallant, yet affects Gallantry; fair and young without Capriciousness: These Demy-Mistresses you may love without des­pair; Leave when you please, and pass your time pleasantly enough.

If one pleases to observe, one may make pleasant Discoveries: when one sees a Man of Sense visit a simple Woman, one may imagine she hath an agreeable Kinswoman or Acquaintance; and on the other hand, if one sees a Woman of Wit frequent the Company of a foolish Fellow, I conclude he is her Cully one way or other; or if she seem to like one whom 'tis impossible she should like in Justice or Interest, I conclude 'tis only [Page 19]a shadow, under which she may see him whom she really Loves, but after all, Appearances are deceitful.

When one entertains a Passion, One is very apt to flatter ones self, tho'there be a great disproportion between ones self and the Person one loves; so that if he have not a real Hope, he has something that's like it that bears him up and com­forts him. I'le not be positive but there may be a Lover that can Hope nothing; if so, nothing can be more obliging than this sort of Love; yet I am fully per­swaded no Woman can ever be obliged to a Lover for his Love; for 'tis certain, when a Man happens to be in love, 'tis be­cause he cannot avoid it; One may Love without hope of being favour'd, though not without Hope of being loved.

One that Courts a melancholy Mi­stress must be very Cautious in the man­ner [Page 20]of telling his Love; he must pay both great and small Services, be full of Sweetness, Tenderness and Assiduity, and among all these, a little Ingredient of Despair; and if one must endure so much, 'tis better not to be lov'd. If a merry Mistress be angry, she is pacified with a Serenade; all Quarrels are but trifles which are reconcil'd at the next Treat or Di­version; if they do not love so zealously, neither do they expect so much Love, but give as much liberty as they take; they require nothing but what is agree­able in it self; they will walk with you, laugh with you, sing and dance with you; and to do all this for the love of them, certainly is not very difficult; And is it not better to serve these than those that are full of Morals and the Po­liticks of Law? And who exact solid Tears instead of Pleasures? A man, if [Page 21]he would overcome such a One, must mix with his Love the Glory to have it fervent, and must have an Amorous kind of Ambition, to redouble the Violence of that Passion: for 'tis a pleasure after having been long a slave to a Mistress to be at last a Conquerour, and to Van­quish that Heart that seem's Invincible.

I know not which is worse, to be Wise to a Man that is continually changing his Loves, or to an Husband that hath but one Mistress whom he loves with a constant Passion; and if you keep some measure of Civilty to her, he will at least esteem you: But he of the roving Humor plays an hundred Frolicks that divert the Town and perplex his Wife. She of­ten meets with her Husbands Mistress, and is at a loss how to carry her self to­wards her. 'Tis true, the constant man is ready to sacrifice every moment his [Page 22]whole Family to his Love; He hates any place where she is not, is prodigal in what concerns his Love, covetous in other respects; Expects you should be blind to all he doth, and tho' you can't but see, yet must not dare to complain; and tho' both he that lends his Heart to whosoever pleases it, and he that gives it entirely to One, do both of them require the exactest Devoir from their Wives; yet I know not if it benot bet­ter to be Wife to an unconstant Husband (provided he be something Discreet) than to a constant Fellow who is always perplexing her with his inconstant Hu­mour. For the Unconstant Lovers are commonly the best humour'd; but let 'em be what they will, Women ought not to be unfaithful for Virtue's sake and their own, nor to offend by Ex­ample. It is one of the best bonds of Cha­rity [Page 23]and Obedience in the Wife, if she think her Husband Wife; which she will never do if she find him Jealous.

⟨L ^d Bacon:⟩Wives are young Mens Mistresses, Companions for middle-Age and old mens Nurses.

When I speak of Love, I do not mean those trifling Loves which do not de­serve the name they bear; when a man gives himself to Mirth and has no other design but Diversion; I speak of an un­usual Love, that is ardent and sincere, grounded on Esteem and Virtue, and when once they have exchanged Hearts, their Desires are the same, and likely so to continue. Ingratitude after this Dear­ness is the most detestable Ingratitude, to one who gives all when they give their hearts. If they love thus; there wants nothing but Occasion, and that depends on Fortune.

If any persons of Wit be either merry or sad without Cause, 'tis a sign they are in Love.

A little love is pleasant, too much is troublesome.

To know all the delights of love, one must know all the bitters of it; and he that cannot make great Afflictions out of trivial Matters, shall ne're take great delight in great Favours; but if one will be happy in love he must fancy to him­self great Pleasure from slight Favours; the very sight of the place where his Mistress has been, must fill his heart with Joy, but such a joy as must at once both grieve and rejoyce him; forin Love, Contraries often meet.

Nothing is more difficult than to re­concile Fear and Love, and 'tis a great Ma­ster-piece to make ones self beloved by those that fear us. Those transitory Loves [Page 25]which succeeded one another do not de­serve the name of Love; some think if they have a sincere constant passion for One, that they are not Inconstant if now and then they make some transitory Gal­lantrys, provided that one be chief Mi­stress, and they ready, when she pleases, to sacrifice them all to her. But this is very Unjust; for they would have an En­tire heart, and are Jealous but of a kind Look to another, though they take the liberty to share themselves to every Woman they like in the World. But we often see, those we confide in most, deceive us most; and therefore we ought not to put on an entire cosidence in any.

⟨L ^d Bacon⟩Nuptial Love maketh Man kind: friendly Love perfecteth it; but wan­ton Love corrupteth it.

It is a true Rule, that love is ever rewarded either with its Reciprocal, [Page 26]or with an inward and secret Content­ment.

A man serves his Prince, but gives himself to his Mistress, and she her self to her Lover. 'Tis only Love alone that nnites Hearts, tho' Friendship also boasts to have that power: Two dear Friends may each have a Mistress that shall somewhat divide them, at least ren­der their Friendship less considerable; but if Love unites two Persons that have tender Breasts and intelligent Minds, I defie Friendship to divide 'em.

Of Gratitude.

'TIS a Question, if Benefits oftner pro­duce Friendship, than Friendship it self or great Deserts without Benefits: I think Benefits seldom produce Friend­ship; for they are as apt to wear out of the mind as Grief, from which every [Page 27]moment steals a part, so time weakens Gratitude as well as Affliction: neither will Friendship without Desert produce a tender Friendship in Generous Minds. We are not obliged to love Every one that loves us, and on that account are ready to do us Good on all Occasions; for this officious Love often proceeds from Vanity; and if we are always ready to acknowledge and return their Civilties, it's enough. For Friendship and Gratitude are two things; we ought to have Gratitude for all from whom we receive any Benefit, but 'tis not in our power to love whom we please; Desert alone disposes to a Friendship, for increates Esteem; Benefits ought to engage us to their Interests, and beget a kind of Gratitude in our Minds, the Effects whereof resemble Friendship: such as have only Love to recommend [Page 28]them, 'tis enough to have a Compassion and Pity for them.

Ingratitude is the worst Vice, and most opposite to Nature and Equity. 'tis hardly known among Brutes, for Bene­fits and Kindness has mollified Lions; Only Men are capable of Ingratitude. This Vice is directly opposite to Justice; it overthrows all laws of Society, which to reasonable People ought to be a con­tinual Armory of good Offices. The Laws of Humanity bid us do good to whomsoever stands in need of it: Is it not most just that we acknowledge from whom we receive a Benefit? But there are such ill Tempers in the World, that when they have been very much oblig'd, they decline to own to whom they are obliged, and at length cannot en­dure 'em; and some are of that odd humour, they will not make the least [Page 29]return to those that have done all things for them, yet render considerable to such as never did them the least Courtesie; they are of the Humour of those who had rather make Presents, than pay Debts. But the best is, all the World explains against this Vice, and there is no Un­grateful Person but decry's Ingtatitude.

Common Benefits are to be commu­nicated to all, but particular ones with Choice: To be thankful for small Be­nefits, shews we value Mens Minds, not their Trash.

'Tis strange this Vice of Ingratitude, void of all pleasure, should be so Gene­ral; He that usurps the Good, of another, enriches himself by it; A detracter hath the pleasure of being easily beleived; A vindicative Person has the Content of being revenged of his Enemy; but an [Page 30]ungrateful Man has the constant Dis­pleasure of being stung with Shame and Remorse whenever he thinks what has been done for him; but those who ar­rive at the highest pitch of Ingratitude, never think of what has been done for them; but if he doth not think at all, there is still no Pleasure in not thinking of it. 'Tis a Question which is the worst Ingratitude, that of a King or his Peo­ple, Master or Servant; and among Friends, that of Fathers or Children, Husbands or Wives, a Lover or his Mi­stress? There are several Degrees of it, and I think one may be positive there is no Equality under the Sun They may be divided into three Orders, viz. in point of Duty, Friendship and Love, there are Laws which direct Kings to Govern, and People to obey; but none to teach Gratitude in Love; the Morali­ty [Page 31]of Love is no where to be found but in Sonnets; Love being usually nothing but a piece of Gallantry diverting the World with pleasant Songs and Verses. This is a slighter Ingratitude much than in Friendship. The Ingratitude of Friends causes Hatred, and divides Fa­milies; that of bad Kings causes a thou­sand Injustices, that of Subjects sedition, Revolts and continual Wars; that of Husbands and Wives, criminal Loves and tragical Deeds; therefore Ingrati­tude in Duty is most Dangerous. An ungrateful Friend can never be a truly worthy Man, but one that is Ungrate­ful in Duty, may; for Fortune justifies many things. Ingratitude in Friend­ship is yet more detestable, for Kings do not choose their Subjects. Nor Peo­ple their Kings often; the same may be applied to Fathers and Children; and [Page 32]even as to Husbands and Wives, Inte­rest makes more Marriages than Love or Choice: So that if there be a defect in their Duty, tho' they are to blame, yet 'tis the less, because not loving at all, they lessen the Obligation; and fan­cying their Duty less, no wonder if they easily dispense with part of what they owe; and this is to be said for e'm, That since they cannot love whom they please, they cannot be oblig'd in spight of Inclination. But our Friends we choose, we are Voluntarily oblig'd to them; We are not constrain'd to love 'em by any Laws, or any disorder'd Passion, but by consequence Nature, Justice, Reason, Virtue and Honour, Exact of us a correspondent Return of Good Offices, and tho' we want the pow­er, we ought never to forget it, but pub­lish and own it with pleasure.

What confidence can there be put in a Man who is failing to his Friend? The Ungrateful Man ruins his Reputa­tion in the World, and insensibly mis­chiefs Himself more than others. 'Tis possible he that's ungrateful to his Prince, may be Grateful to his Friend, Mistress or Relation, but an Ungrate­ful Friend is capable of any Ingrati­tude: For if one receive a Benefit from an Enemy, if he be so noble and Gene­rous as to confer it, one is oblig'd to ac­knowledge it as much as to a Friend; and I know not if one is not oblig'd to Gratitude, tho' one refuses the services they would do one.

Ingratitude is so common in the Minds of People, that from the King to a Slave, every one hath met with Ingratitude. If a Prince be Just and Good, the Peo­ple think he ought to be so, and [Page 34]therefore they are not oblig'd to him for it. Kings, because above Masters, think they owe no reward to their Faith­ful Subjects, and that Tyranny is a right of Soveraignty. 'Tis the same in Republicks; for they imagine those that obey can never do it blindly enough, and never trouble themselves with ac­knowledgments. Masters believe their Slaves born to do them service without Reward, and they on the other side think that their least service ought not to be unrewarded by their Masters; If we oblige a Friend, he thinks it an ob­ligation of Friendship, and at best, but slightly esteems it: A Father because he has given Life to his Child, thinks he ought to be as much in Subjection as when he was an Infant, and gives him no thanks for all his Endeavours to please him; The Children know their Birth [Page 35]is not the greatest Obligation, but re­pine for the Life they gave, if they do not all for them that they think they are able. Husbands whose Authority, is Establish't by Force and Custom think their Wives happy in Obeying them, and give them no thanks for all their Complacency; and Wives that have either Beauty or Virtue, imagine their Husbands too happy in having married them; If Fair, they're impertinent, if Wise, Insolent. And a Lover is always charging his Mistress with Ingratitude, and tho' he should re­ceive a thousand Favours, would yet make a thousand Repinings; If at any time he has a less favourable Look than usual, he murmurs, threatens to change his Love; and at length becomes ungrate­ful.

There would be much less Ingratitude [Page 36]in the World, were there less sloth, for commonly the supine negligent Persons are the most ungrateful, who would wil­lingly be oblig'd to all the World with­out obliging any. There are some Wo­men who value no service that is done 'em, can forget a thousand considerable good services, without ever thinking of a Return; but because they are Fair and love their Beauty above all things, never forget one Flattery, but will Love them best that deceive them most. But 'tis difficult to Examine all the different Ingratitudes the World is full of, they are so Various.

'T would be a cruel thing to be oblig'd to make returns to all that pretend to love one, or else be counted ungrateful, Impossibility sets bounds to all things. We should not be truly Grateful if we were so with Injustice. We ought not [Page 37]to injure one Friend to oblige another; And when 'tis said we ought to acknow­ledge all Good Offices, 'tis meant so as we may with Reason.

Of Death-

THE very thoughts of Death di­sturbs ones Reason; and tho' a Man may have many Eexcellent Qua­lities, yet he may have the Weakness of not Commanding his Sentiments. This is certain, Nothing is worse for ones health than to be in fear of Death. There are some so Wise as neither to hate nor fear it; But for my part, I have an A­version for it and with Reason; for 'tis a rash inconsiderate thing, that al­ways comes before it's look't for; always comes unseasonably, disturbs all the pleasures of Life, parts Friends, and has respect to nothing, ruins Beauty, laughs [Page 38]Youth, draws a dark Veil over all the pleasures of Life, and is Inflexible. But this may be said for it, it Equals all men, cures all Desires, ends all Mis­fortunes, satisfies Ambition, determines love of Hatred, opens the gate to Good Fame, and extinguishes Envy; and this dreadful Evil is but the Evil of a Mo­ment, and what we cannot by any means avoid: And 'tis That that makes it so terrible to me, for were it uncertain, Hope might diminish some part of the Fear; but when I think I must die, and that I may die every moment, and that too a thousand several ways, I'm in such a Fright, as you cannot imagine. I see dangers where perhaps there never was any. I'm peswaded 'tis happy to be somewhat dull of apprehension in this Case, and yet the best way to cure the pensiveness of the Thoughts of Death [Page 39]bring, is to think of it as little as possi­ble. When against my will I hear of the Death of any One, I sift a cause as far as I can from being applicable to my self: For they who search so deep in the bot­tom of things are never at quiet. Some are so inclin'd to fear that tho' they are neither on Sea, River or Creek, but in good Health in their Chamber, yet are they so well instructed with the fear of Dying, that they do not Measure it only by the present dangers that wait on us. Some cannot Enjoy themselves in the pleasantest place and Company in the World. If it Thunders; Fear all that may happen; fear the Earth may chance to shake as well in England as in the Indies: 'Tis true, all these Fears amount to No­thing; If the Earth must, it will shake, whether we will or no; If a Thunderbolt must fall, it will, and as likely in the place [Page 40]where you seek Refuge, as in any other; Then, is it not best to submit to God? But some People cannot do it as they would, and tho' they are not desti­tute of Reason, but perceive they are to blame, yet even at the same time that their Reason Condemns them, their Ima­gination makes their Hearts feel what it pleases. The best way to prevent our Fears when we come to die, is our live­ing Holy and Innocent Lives: so make­ing it the business of our whole life to prepare for Death. And truly to con­sider aright, One ought to think of Death as an Occasion of being Frightned from Sin, and since I must infallibly see him one day, 'tis best not to be so great a stranger to him.

Our Saviour hath perfum'd and soft­ned the Bed of our Grave by his own Dying and being Buried: And how [Page 41]can it grieve us to tread in his steps to Glory?

To have Death easie, think of that Glorious Life that follows it; We can endure Pain for Health, much more for Glory; How many Crowns and Sce­pters lie piled up at the Gate of Death? Have we so often seen our selves die in our Friends, and should we shrink at our own Change? Hath our Maker and Redeemer sent for us, and are we loth to go, who will put us in possession of a Glorious Inheritance? 'Twas for Us Our Saviour triumph'd over Death: Is there any fear of a foiled Adversary? He that lives Christianly, dies boldly; He that lives miserably dies willingly; He that knows Death, and foresees Glo­ry, dies Chearfully and Triumphantly.

Of Speech.

SOme persons will speak so much that one cannot interpose a Word, and others are so silent that one is almost o­bliged to speak continually; So that I know not which is worst and insupport­able One who always speaks, or one who must always be spoke to.

He that talks what he knows will al­so talk what he knows not; Some can talk of nothing but what is past, others, of nothing but the present. It adds no small Reverence to Men's Manners and Actions if they be not altogether open: No man can be secret, except he give himself a little scope of Dissimulation, which is the Skirt or Train of Secrecy.

Fluent and Luxurious Speech may become Youth well, but not Age.

Some think that to speak well, one should Chuse only select Words, but 'tis certainly best to speak easie and Natural, but we are to avoid an affected Negli­gence; One ought not to affect hard words, but whosoever speaks, should make him­self Intelligible.

The Honourable part of Speech is to give the Occasion; again to moderate and pass to something else, for then that leads the Dance; 'tis also Good in Discourse and Conversation to vary and intermix Speech of the present Occa­sion with Arguments; Tales with Rea­son; Asking of Questions with telling O­pinions; He that hath a Satyrical Vein, as he makes others afraid of his Wit, so he has need to be afraid of others Me­mory.

There are those whose Thoughts come near the understanding of Mat­ters, [Page 44]but their Words do so intricate their Conceptions, that one cannot un­derstand what they would be at; and there are others that do not understand themselves, so that they are not only to seek for their Words but their Ap­prehensions too. The first are ambigu­ous in their Discourse, because they choose not fit Words to express their Sentiments, the other, their Thoughts being confus'd, there are no Words to fit 'em. Speech of a Man's self ought to be seldom and well chosen; Speech that touches towards others should be spare­ingly us'd; for Discourse ought to be a Field, without coming home to any particular Man.

It often happens that Men of good Sense speak little; but seldom that a great Talker has a clear Judgment, yet it is sel­dom that those who are Masters of Wit [Page 45]do [...]most wholly decline speaking, but 'tis often that persons of much Wit are too talkative; for Wit is a Fire that will discover it self, and tho' several Extraordinary Men have affected to speak little, yet they have made them­selves known by their Writings or A­ctions Wit can't, be conceal'd: There are great Poets, great Princes, great Phi­losophers that have been very sparing of their Speech, but their Works speak for 'em, and prove their silence proceeded not from Stupidity. But it is not the same with those people whose Wit is at their Tongues end, but their Actions are dumb. One may have Judgment, and speak much, but those that speak too much have none. For tho' there seem little difference between one that speaks very much and one that speaks too much; yet it is as Liberality and Pro­digality, [Page 46]the one a Virtue, the other a Vice. Yet some that speak well may speak too much, and by an over-for­wardness to shew their Parts and their Judgment, interrupt every one, and snatch all opportunities to speak: But when a man loves to speak because Na­ture has given him an easie Expression, a capacious Mind, a quick Fancy, a Memory stored with choice and Ra­tional Notions; when his Judgment is Master of his Wit and Fancy, and his Conversation perfectly suited to the Genius of the World, such a one may speak much with boldness, tho' I believe, he is also able to hold his peace, and will give Liberty of Speech to those that desire it.

To speak well; 'tis requisite to have a great deal of Wit, and a sufficient, and Excellent Judgment; Some who do [Page 47]not talk much, do listen with such inge­nious Attention, that 'tis plain they un­derstand what Wit is, and have a great deal themselves.

To speak first, sometimes prevents the trouble of answering to others Imperti­nent Questions. Some speak what they ought not to think. 'Tis a great Master­piece to speak well of all things without affecting Knowledge, to have a modest, prudent complyance in Discourse, as well as a real Goodness in all our Acti­ons. They that have these commen­dable Qualities, beget a Love of Virtue in all that are Capable of it. 'Tis plea­sant after long silence to relieve ones self with speaking: and 'tis well when peoples Actions speak more than their Words.

There are some Compliant People more troublesome than those that Dis­pute all things; they Grant all one [Page 48]would have, say all one says, know no Opinion but what you put into their Heads; n [...]ver say No, Always say Yes, Contradict themselves as much as you please, and by a base Unworthy Com­plyance destroy conversation every mo­ment. One knows not what to say to 'em, one can make no Sport unless it be with 'em: Complyance is a good Qua­lity, confin'd in its Limits, and Guided by Judgment, otherwise 'tis as subject to Vice as Virtue. Discretion in Speech is more than Eloquence, and to speak agreeably, than to speak in good words or in good order: To use many Circum­stances before one comes to the Matter, is troublesome and wearysome, to use None is blunt.

'Tis not every one has the priviledge of Speaking displeasing Truths without offence, 'tis but few can do this; and should they pretend to imitate, they [Page 49]would be unsufferable. 'Tis different to jest with ones Friend, which may be freely done without displeasing them. 'Tis not enough to speak plainly and reasonably, but one must know well the Humour of those to whom one would speak freely: several love to give, but not to take Jests: Sometimes one bitter word makes the most pleasant Raillery bite, nay the Tone of the Voice, or but a malicious Smile turns the most inno­cent Jest into a Satyr: Nothing requires more Judgment than to railly inoffen­sively and to make this innocent War as it ought, which makes Conversation pleasant when it ends without displea­sure. Nothing can be more disagreeable than not to be believed when one speaks Truth. 'Tis well when peoples Actions speak more Morality than their Words.

Of Lying.

⟨L ^d Bacon:⟩A Man that Lyeth is an Hector to­wards God, and a Coward towards Men; for a Lye faces God, and shrinks from Men. No pleasure is comparable to the standing upon the advantage Ground of Truth; an Hill not to be com­manded, and where the Air is, always clear and serene. A Lye serves for Disi­mulation, for Perfidiousness, and almost all Crimes. To Lye for nothing is fool­ish, and to Lye for Interest is a great Fault. There is nothing so contrary to the Godhead as Lying, for Truth is his inseparable Attribute.

The search of Truth is the Design of all Men, but especially of the Wise. Of Lyes some sorts are to be condemn'd, and some may be pardon'd; a great or a little Lye to any ones Prejudice ought [Page 51]to be avoided: For since Justice and Ge­nerosity forbids Men to speak even Re­flecting Truth, much more injurious Lyes. There are officious Lyes to the benefit of our Friends, which may be Excusable on some Occasions: If a Lye injures no body but do's good to some body, it may be thought inoffensive, however 'tis injurious to the Relator, though to none else, because it renders him less innocent: If I would Lye in be­half of another, certainly I would for my self.

There are Lying-looks as well as Lye­ing-words; dissembling Smiles, deceive­ing Signs, and even a Lying-silence: There are Lying-Civilties, and Lying-Courtesies; for people sometimes o­blige those whom they hate; some be­cause they need them, and others out of Fear and Weakness: sometimes they [Page 52]appear glad to see those they Extream­ly dislike: Thus do's Dissimulation and Lying confound each other.

Though all Complements are Lyes, yet because they are known to be such, no body depends on 'em; so there is no hurt in 'em, you return them in the same manner you receive 'em, and with­out scruple conform to 'em, yet 'tis best to make as few as one can.

As for a pleasant Relation, one may venture to add a little to History; for Truth, for the most part, has somewhat too serious, and is not so diverting as Fiction; and since 'tis no more believ'd than Complement, one is left to ones Liberty.

There are no Lyes innocent, but such as are Related for Lyes: yet it ought to appear profitable; for a meer Lye is Ridiculous. There is a sort of Lying [Page 53]pro­duced by Vanity, and these people are diverting enough; they are such as commend themselves, each according to his Fancy. There are Hectors that tell long Tales of dangerous Enterprizes, where they never were, out of a Violent desire that the World may have a bet­ter Opinion of 'em than they desire. There are foolish Fellows that spend whole Nights in devising Adventures, and whole Days in telling 'em; pretend­ing to Fortunes they never had; Some mean Birth pretending to be a Noble Family that came in with William the Conquerour; some would seem sick, and think to hide Poverty with Lyes; and some Lyars are so Extravagant, that af­ter they have been puzzled by some person in Discourse, without knowing what to say, make the handsomest An­swer in the world at home, as if they had [Page 54]spoke them on the place. Some are so foolish to report, that Persons of Quality Visit them, and Write to 'em, who ne­ver thought on them.

The Sum of all is, That there are many Fools and Lyars in the World; tho' they that Lye to prejudice others are infinitly worse than those that so commend themselves; but these are so Ridiculous, that I know not if I could not sooner tell a Lye a little Malicious than to commend my self. But these have weak Judgments, and deserve Pity. If Truth could be Establisht in the World, Conversation would be quite changed, Lying would surest argue Weakness; Dissimulation would be base and even Lying-Civilities not free from blame. To lye for ones own Commen­dation is Ridiculous: Complements are lyes so known, they do no mischief; and [Page 55]Poets are the only Lyars that deserve to be commended. Though Lying be a great Fault, 'tis very difficult absolutely to renounce it, or always to speak Truth. And if we well observe, they that Hate it most, do sometimes use it. It has certain little Conveniences very Ne­cessary; We always add a little to a Story to make it more delightful. Who can commend a Woman without speak­ing more Good of her than she de­serves; or speak ill of an Enemy with­out Aggravating his Faults; or a Lover complain without making his Misery greater than it is? I beg your favour for pleasant Lyes, and a Lye by way of Excuse; or, to save the Life of a Per­son.

'Tis a shrode Spanish Proverb. Tell a Lye and find a Truth: Certainly 'tis an Heaven upon Earth to have a Man's [Page 59]Mind move in Charity, rest in Provi­dence, and turn upon the poles of Truth. There are some that are Lyars, and don't know it; since Speech is the great Thing that distinguishes Men from Beasts, how Unworthy are they that falsify it? No Beasts have deceit­ful Cries, but that Animal bred on the Banks of Nile; 'tis only Wicked Man that perverts the use of his Voice.

Truth bears the supream sway in Love and Friendship, and without it the World would be all Confusion; Is there any thing more Odious than the Practices of those great Persons, who with Looks and Words make one hope a thousand things they never mean to perform? Is there any thing more Cruel than to discover that your Friend has deceived you; or Mistress, who swears she loves none but you, and yet loves [Page 57]divers others, or to speak properly, loves none, for a divided Love is no Love.

Sometimes one is apt to accuse an­other to excuse ones self.

True Lovers need not Lye unless in Poetry; but for the usual Impertinent Lovers, they may speak what they please, for none will believe 'em but easy Wo­men, that deserve to be deceived: Let them feign Sighs and Tears, if they can, Flatter and Lye, pretend Despair and a thousand Counterfeit Loves, they are all but so many Lyes.

Those who do not scruple little In­fidelities, have strong Dispositions to greater ones, therefore one ought to ac­custom ones self to be Exact, even in the smallest things.

Of Idleness.

I Know not which is most Shameful, to be a sluggard for want of Wit or Cou­rage: Some are Idle only because they are Careless; for they have a great deal of Wit, and on some occasions, shew they have Courage, neither can one perceive they have any bad Qualities; These are the most Guilty of all; for why should they be so Unprofitable both to the World and to themselves, to have Wit to no purpose, and such an Indifference, as to concern themselves with nothing; to have neither Love nor Ambition, but be so Negligent, as to be Uncapable of any great Pleasure.

I Know not if it were at all better to addict ones self to what is not very good, than to apply ones self to Nothing: 'tis [Page 59]certain, that those whose Minds God has but sparingly Enrich't, are happy when they are assign'd an Unactive Life, and so they are hidden in their own Obscu­rities; This Deficiency produces the same Effect in them, which Wisdom do's in others, and restrains them from appear­ing ill to the World.

There is none but Knows there are some that would not be spoken of, if they were not in great Employments, and of whom one hears a thousand Dis­courses, because they acquit themselves ill of what they rashly Undertake; Pro­mote an Hair-Brain'd Man, or one of Weak Capacity to the Management of State-Affairs, or a faint-hearted Man to Command in an Army, and you'll find 'tis pity there are no more Idle than there be. Though Idleness be good for nothing, yet it hurts none, it injures [Page 60]none but themselves; but such as ma­nage Employments they are Unfit for, make great disorders, and 'twere happy, if they did Nothing. Therefore 'tis better to Censure impertinent Busy-Bodyes, than those Lazy-Backs, who seek their Ease, and do better in indulg­ing their Quiet, than in being Active; but the worst Idleness is, when they will addict themselves to Nothing, though they are Oblig'd by Necessity to take the Employment which Fortune has given 'em: There are those that in great Employments do only fore-cast how to acquit themselves of it, to En­joy a Quiet, attended with Pleasure; they are of the humour not to do the things they're oblig'd to, but busy them­selves in what they might Dispense with, and perhaps ought to Neglect. When I observe a Grave Fellow, with [Page 61]a Senator-like Aspect, Ignorant of the Laws of his Country; but pretending to play the Gallant wi [...]h a Lady, who laughs at his awkward Courtship; on the other side, when I see a Man whose Age and Conditon qualifies him for a Spark, put on Senatour's Gravity, dive into the Doctrine of Pythagoras, speak no smaller word than that of Transmi­gration, or Metempsychosis, I sigh and cry; why is not this man Idle? I am Possess'd with the pleasant'st Indigna­tion in the world, for at the same time I contemn him, I take Pleasure to abuse him: And so to see a Captain know nothing of the Millitary Art, but to un­derstand well that of Courting and Dancing, 'twere better he were ever Idle.

Of the World.

VVE all find fault with the World, when we our selves are part of it, and sometime or other do like all the World, commit faults, and are to blame in some things. One cannot say, such a Wise or Good Man is un­capable of Failing; All men are men, and subject to Defects: All the World may be prejudiced; all the World is Crafty, Envious, Slanderous, False, and Weak, and the Greatest Hero has at some time of this Life, found a low Vul­gar Sentiment in his Heart, which in Prudence he ought to nourish no fur­ther than it consists with his Interest, or his Pleasure, or Honour engages him. In Equity we ought to love Men as they love us, and we may Encrease [Page 63]or Diminish it as we see Occasion.

'Tis most certain that Weakness and Uncertainty reigns in the Minds of all Men; and the wiser a Man is, the more he ought to excuse the Follies of the People. The more a Man drinks of the World, the more it intoxicateth. They that regulate their Sentiments by other Men, Oblige the others to follow Their's.

Of Secrecy.

SOme say 'tis more trouble than can be imagin'd to keep Secrecy in Trifles: Serious Secrets that are of Mo­ment, they that have some Sense of Honour, or a little Prudence will not Reveal; but for a Jest, or any other lit­tle Deversion, 'tis very difficult not to speak of 'em.

The best Composition and Tempera­ture, [Page 64]is to have Openness in Fame and Opinon, and Secrecy in Habit.

Of Prosperity and Adversity.

'TIs an High Speech of Seneca; the Good things that belong to Pro­sperity are to be wish'd, but the Good things that belong to Adversity are to be Admir'd. It is true Greatness to have in one Person, the Frailty of a Man and the Security of a God, which is an Higher Speech of Seneca, too high for an Heathen. The Virtue of Pro­sperity is Temperance, and the Virtue of Adversity is Fortitude, which in mor­tals is the most Heroick Virtue.

⟨L ^d Bacon⟩Prosperity is the Blessing of the Old Testament, Adversity of the New, which carries the Great Benediction, and the clearer Revelation of God's Fa­vours, [Page 65]and if we listen to David's Harp, Braver is Affliction of Job illustrated than the Felicity of Solomon. ⟨L ^d Bacon⟩ Virtue is like precious Odours, most fragrant when increased and Crush'd. Prosperi­ty do's best discover Vice; but Adver­sity do's best discover Virtue. Where the Evil is derived from a Man's own fault, there it strikes deadly. Toward the bearing Evils, a Man can charge no body but himself; and he that bears 'em with Courage makes 'em the less.

Nothing is Universally allowed to be a Good but Health. Some Persons think they are to be pity'd if they do not laugh from Morning till Night.

Of Children.

CHildren sweeten Labour, but they make the Misfortune more bitter. They encrease the Care of Life, but [Page 66]they mitigate the Remembrance of Death: Parents do best in keeping up their Authority over their Children, but not in keeping altogether their Purses from 'em. There are some that Count their Wife and Children but as Bills of Charges; again there are some Rich, Foolish, Covetous Men, that take a pride in having no Children, be­cause they may be thought so much the Richer. If one has lost divers Children, 'tis more to him to lose the last than all the rest.

'Tis easy in Infancy to weed out Evil, and plant Good; but Parents are com­monly more concern'd (in those ten­der years) to bestow Wit than Virtue; they teach 'em the Art of Writing and Speaking well, but not of Doing well: but believe it, the Manners are the Great concern of the Mind; and if they [Page 67]are so unhappy as not to have the fa­culty of Discerning, they'll be subject to strange things.

Of Cowards.

NO People suffer more than Cow­ards; If they are necessitated to go to a Fight, and desirous to pass for Men of some Courage, 'tis not to be imagin'd what they suffer. Examples encourage 'em not, the Martial sound, and Roaring of Guns half Kills 'em; they are ever prepared for a Retreat, fore-most in Flight, last in Battel, they are rack'd between Fear and Shame, and tho' they should speak like Coura­gious men, yet they see they are not believ'd, and they are often in Danger of being kick'd even by Cowards.

Of Bad Poets.

NOthing is more worthy of Pity than Bad Poets: tho' they admire all they write, it often happens they perceive themselves to be their only Admirers; If this do's not reclaim 'em, then they are vex'd to live in such an unapprehensive Age, where Men can Judge of Nothing, but according to their own particular Humour and Fan­cy; this Thought so incenses 'em, that they resolve for despising their Poetry, to scourge 'em with it, and as angry Children, think they are Reveng'd when they hit you with all their Might; so the Poor Poet Fancies, he lashes his Enemies with his Satyrs; but when he finds himself deceiv'd, and that what he design'd should fret 'em, on the con­trary, [Page 69]do's only move their Laughter, he hates 'em for that Dulness and Un­mannerliness which himself is guilty of, continues doating on his Conce­ptions all his Life; dies out of Charity with all the World, and so by conse­quence, is damn'd.

Of Indifferency.

THere is nothing so stupid as that soft Indisserency, which makes some people be pleased with all things or nothing; which makes 'em enter­tain no great desire of Glory, nor great fear of Infamy, neither love much, nor fear much: They follow Customs blindfold, they are only sensible of the Afflictions of the Body, the Mind be­ing wholly Insensible; And if one may so Express it, they are Guilty of a cer­tain [Page 70]Sluggishness of Mind which ren­ders 'em Unworthy of Life. In like manner, I should be more prone to conceive hope of a Man, who in the beginning of his Life should be hur­ry'd to evil Habit, than of one who fastens upon Nothing; For to one that can Love or Hate immoderately, there needs no more to shew him a rational Object; but on him that is incapable of any violent Attraction, who has only a General Indifference for all things, can never any Good be done, and there is no Cure in Philosophy for it.

Indifference sometimes proceeds from Lowness of Spirit, incapable of making a Judgment of things, for 'tis natural for a Man to desire that which he be­lieves to be Good; and if Indifferent People were able to Judge, they would certainly fasten upon something. 'Tis [Page 71]certain this lukewarm Temper which sends forth feeble Designs, sends forth feeble Lights, so that, not knowing any thing certainly, they can fasten on no­thing with Perseverance.

The Grave Indifferent Persons do neither Love nor Hate; they betake themselves to Nothing, they unresolv'd in every thing; ask 'em if they will walk, they know not; they're always in doubt, and endeavour to please or displease 'em, they're little concern'd. An inconstant Man is better than this, for he has always something to do, and tho' he defire nothing Vehemently, and disclaims Obstinacy, yet he is for the time, ever resolv'd in something. But if we observe it, the Indifferent and the Inconstant are not very contrary to each other: An Inconstant loves In­differently all the Beauties of the Town, [Page 72]and 'tis a cold Indifference in their Hearts that makes 'em thus Inconstant and to love several: They Glory in their Weakness, and think they cannot be absolute Sparks unless they be fickle; who Loving nothing much, yet spend their life as if they were wholly taken up with Love.

Of Censoriousness.

THere are some so given to Envy, Mischief, and Censoriousness, that they are ever on the Loading part, not so good as the Dogs that lick'd Lazarus's Sores, but like Flyes, still buzzing up­on the thing that is raw; they easily believe all the Good spoken of them­selves, and all the Evil spoken of o­thers.

Of Revenge.

REvenge is a kind of wild Justice, which the more Man's Nature runs to, the more ought Law to weed it out. He that studies Revenge keeps his own Wounds green, which other­wise would heal: If a Man meerly out of ill nature do's wrong, 'tis like the Thorns and Briars which prick and scratch, because they can do no other.

By taking Revenge a Man is but e­ven with his Enemy, but with passing it over, he is Superiour.

Of Boldness.

BOldness is the Child of Ignorance and Baseness; nevertheless it fast­ens and binds the Hand and Foot of those that are shallow of Judgment, and [Page 74]weak in Courage. Boldness is an ill keeper of Promises, and to men of great Judgment, bold Persons are a sport to behold: Nay Boldness is ever blind, not seeing Dangers and ill convenien­ces; And therefore 'tis ill in Council, and good in Execution.

⟨L ^d Bacon⟩Deformed persons are extreamly Bold, being first in their own defects, exposed to Scorn, and in process of time, that produces an Habit of Confidence, which at last ends in Boldness and Im­pudence,

Of Youth and Age.

THE Inventions of Young Men are more lively than Old; Im­aginations stream into their Minds bet­ter. Heat and Veracity in Age is an Excellent Composition. For Business, Young Men are fitter to invent than [Page 75]Judge, fitter for Execution than for Council, fitter for new Frolicks than solid Business: The Errors of Young Men are the ruin of Business, like an unruly Horse that will neither stop nor turn. Men of Age on the contrary ob­ject too much, consult too long, adven­ture too little, Repent too soon, seldom drive Business home to the full period.

⟨L ^d Bacon⟩Young Men may be Learners while Old Men are Actors: Authority fol­lows Old Men, favour and Popularity Youth.

Of Custom.

CUstom is every where Visible, so that we may well wonder to hear Men profess, protest, engage, give great Words, and then do just as they have done before, as if they were dead Images, and Engines mov'd only by [Page 76]the wheel of Custom: Therefore we ought by all means Endeavour to ob­tain good Customs which may regulate Company, raise Emulation and quick­en Glory.

The greatest Multiplication of Vir­tues upon Human Nature resteth upon Society, well order'd and Discipline.

Of Charity.

THe desire of Power in excess, caused the Angels to fall, the desire of of Knowledge in excess, caused Man to fall, but in Charity there's no excess; neither can Angels or Men come in danger by it. If a Man be Gracious and Courteous to strangers, he is a Citizen of the World; if he be compassionate towards the Afflictons of others, it shews his heart to be like the Noble Tree, that is wounded it self, when it gives the [Page 77]Balm; If he easily pardons and remits Offences, it shews his mind is raised a­bove Injuries, so that he cannot be shot against. Good Thoughts (however God may accept 'em) yet towards men they are no better than good Dreams, except they be put in Act. Never de­fer Charity till Death, he that doth so, is rather liberal of other Men's sub­stance than his own.

Of Reading.

REading serves for Delight, for Or­nament, and for Ability; it per­fects nature, and is perfected by expe­rience; the Crafty contemn it, the Sim­ple admire it, and Wise Men use it. Some Books are to be tasted or swal­low'd, and some few to be chewed and digested. Reading makes a full man, Conference a Ready man, and Writing [Page 78]an exact Man; He that writes little, needs a great Memory, he that confers little, a present Wit; and he that Reads little, needs much Cunning to make him seem to know that which he do's not. ⟨L ^d Bacon⟩ Histo­ry makes Men Wise, Poetry witty, Mathematicks subtle, Philosophy deep, Morals grave, Logick and Rhetorick, a­ble to Contend; nay, there is no Impe­diment in the Wit but may be wrought out by fit Study, where every defect of the Mind hath its proper Receipt. Those that have excellent faculty of u­sing all they know, can never know too much.

Of Beauty.

THE best thing to illustrate Beauty is Virtue. The principal part of Beauty is Defect and Gracious Motions. Also that is the best part of Beauty [Page 79]which a Painter cannot express. Beau­ty is a Summer Fruit, easy to corrupt, and cannot last; for the most part, it makes a Dissolute Youth, and Age a little out of Countenance; but where it lights well, it makes Virtue shine and Vice blush.

Of Flattery.

AN Impudent Flatterer will praise him most, who is most Conscious of his own Defects; That wherein he is most wanting, will he most entitle him to; that for which he is most out of Countenance, will a Flatterer not excuse only, but justify as Brave and He­roick. ⟨L ^d Bacon⟩ Some are praised maliciously to their Heart, to stir Envy and Jealousy towards 'em. Princes Love Flatterers, but are not over liberal in rewarding 'em. For People of worth, 'tis not neces­sary [Page 80]to fetch praises from their Prede­cessors, 'tis enough to speak of their own particular Merit. Nothing is less plea­sing than those sycophant Praises, that have been used to People who deserve Blame. Not but that 'tis good to excuse the defects of others, but some do not deserve it.

Of Riches.

RIches are the Baggage of Virtue; as the Baggage is to an Army, so Riches are to Virtue, spared or left be­hind hinders the March. Of great Rich­es there is no real Use, except it be in Distribution, the rest is but Conceit: 'Tis certain great Riches have sold more men than they have bought (excepting Purgatory) Seek such Rich­es as we may get Justly, Use soberly, distribute chearfully, and leave content­edly. [Page 81]When Riches come by the De­vil, by Fraud and Oppression and un­just means, they come upon speed, as Solomon says, such make haste to be Rich, but they shall never be Innocent.

Of Honour and High Places.

HOnour hath three things in it, the Advantage-ground to do good, the Approach to Kings and prin­cipal Persons, and the Raising of a Man's Fortune. ⟨L ^d Bacon⟩ The greatest Honour is that which happens rarely, even such as sa­crifice themselves to Death or Danger, for the good of their Country. Discreet followers and Servants help much to Reputation. The lowest Virtues draw praise from the Common People, the middle Virtues work in 'em Admira­tion, but of the highest Virtues they have no sense at all. Fame is like a Ri­ver, [Page 82]bears all things light, and draws things weighty. To praise a Man's self cannot be decent except in rare Cases, but to praise ones Office or Profession may be done with a good Grace and with a kind of Magnanimity. ⟨L ^d Bacon⟩ Envy is the Canker of Honour. Great Persons had need to borrow other Mens Opini­ons to think themselves Happy; They are the first to find their own Grief, tho' the last to find their own Faults.

We may observe the Deep, Sober, and Politick Persons, in their posts of Great­ness, bemoan themselves to abate the edge of Envy. Men in great Fortunes are strangers to themselves while they are in the bustle of Business, having no time to tend their health either of Body or Mind. Men in great Places are thrice Servants; Servants of their Sovereign or State; Servants of Flame, [Page 83]Servants of Business. It is strange to see how men in great Places seek Poverty and lose Liberty; seek Power over o­thers, and lose the Power over their own selves. Happy are they, who in great Employments retain the Virtues of their private Condition; in their desires to do what they ought to them­selves, are just to other People

Of Pleasure.

ONE cannot live without Pleasure, and those who seem never to en­joy any, but are naturally sober and Grave, find delight in their own Me­lancholy. The Pleasure one finds in ones self, is the Melancholiest Pleasure, tho' perhaps the most solid. Solidity is not requir'd in Pleasures, 'tis enough if they be pleasing and sprightly; if they dazzle our Reason and follow one [Page 84]another, if they be full of Variety, and deceive, and amuse us agreeably. All men desire Good, but know not what it is. Nothing is so great an Antidote to Sorrow as Natural Mirth. 'Tis a Plea­sure to some to divert themselves with other Mens Follies.

Of Suspicion.

SUspicion Clouds the Mind, loves Friends, checks Business, that it cannot go on Currently: It disposes Kings to Tyranny, Husbands to Jea­lousy, Wise Men to Irresolution and Melancholy, which are defects not of the Heart but of the Brain.

Of Excuses.

'TIS juster to Excuse the defects that are incident to that Age and Con­dition men are of, than the contrary: [Page 85]One would sooner Excuse a Covetous old Man than a young Miser; and tho' it be great folly to heap up Riches, when we no longer need 'em; yet we see 'tis a defect commonly attends Old Age: Neither ought we to wonder, that an Old Man loves to recount what he has seen in his Youth, and to talk it over and over again, but how Impertinent do'es it look in a Young Man to be tel­ling long Tales? There are defects that belong to certain Conditions: How is it possible for a Man in publick busi­ness never to fail his word? In some places men cannot do what they please, and tho' it appear as tho' they did not well, yet we know not what Cir­cumstances they are under, and there­fore should always make reasonable al­lowances, and not to be rash in our Judgments and Censures.

Miscellanies.

⟨L ^d Bacon⟩TIS good to commit the beginning of all great actions to Argus with his hundred Eyes, and the end to Bri­areus Wit of Fools. and a Crooked Wis­dom; like them that pack the Cards, but know not how to play 'em.

They that too much reverence Old times are but the Scorn to the new. Hope is one of the best Antidotes a­gainst the Poyson of Discontent. For­tune is like the Market, where many times, if you can stay a little, the price will fall. Severity breedeth Fear, but Roughness causes Hate. Reproof from Authority ought to be Grave not taunt­ing. A Man that is base and Inquisi­tive is commonly Envious. Good things never appear in their full Beauty, till [Page 87]they turn their backs and are going a way. Unmarried men are the best Friends, best Masters, best Servants, but not always the best Subjects. Sene­ca says well, that Anger is like Ruin which breaks that which it falls upon. A Man that hath no Virtue in himself envieth it in others. ⟨L ^d Bacon⟩ A Man's Nature runs either to Herbs or Weeds, there­fore let him seasonably Water the one and Destroy the other.

Curiosity were a Vice in me, who hate to have people prying into my Concerns, Endeavouring to pump me, or importunate to know what I have no mind to tell; therefore how unjust were it in me to tease others after this manner. There's nothing more diffi­cult to find than a Woman Endued with all the Qualifications requisite in a Per­son of Honour, and which accomplish [Page 88]an Excellent Woman: The same Tem­per that gives a great and high Genero­sity is not always accompany'd with Modesty; that which gives Justice and Constancy in important affairs, seldom consists with that sociable Complai­sance and Mildness that belongs to their Sex; that which makes them capable of Great matters, do's not stoop to cer­tain trifles which in decency are almost necessary to Women. One rarely meets with one that has all the Virtues of an Honourable Excellent Woman to de­serve all the Praises that can be given severally to both Sexes. To be exact as one ought without constraint or Cere­mony is a Commendable Quality. The Eyes often discover either Wit, Wis­dom, or Goodness, or what you, please. We often believe what our Fathers be­lieved before us, without searching in­to [Page 89]the Reason of our belief. There are few sublime Wits, that pry into the o­riginal of things, or endeavour to make a perfect discovery thereof. From our first use of Reason, 'tis prepossess'd with the sentiments of others, that can't with­out Violence clear it self from what entangles it; so that men are often de­ceived in what they think themselves most secure, which has made some turn Scepticks, and to doubt of almost every thing.

Till the days of Pythagoras, the most Learned believ'd, the Morning and Evening to be two distinct Stars; and gave them several Names which they still bear; Nevertheless this know­ing Philosopher doscover'd they were the same.

Pythogoras commanded his Disciples to Honour the Gods, and never to ask [Page 90]any particular thing of them importu­nately, both because no man knows ex­actly what is fittest for him, and 'tis a more respectful temper to submit to the orders of Heaven. Few have an Univer­sal knowledge of things so as never to be deceiv'd, a sound Judgment and solid Morality; to have prudence to fore-see the most remote and least probable E­vents, and constancy to support the greatest and most unexpected Misfor­tunes. Few are very sensible of the Mis­fortunes even of those they love, or at most their Regret is seldom of long Con­tinuance. Compassionate Grief is transi­ent, the soonest dispelled with the draw­ing of the least pleasure, and with no­thing sooner than Natural Mirth. There's no Celerity comparable to the Motion of Bullet in the Air, which flies so swift that it out-runs the Eye.