# Characteristicks of Men, Manners, Opinions, Times/Volume 2/Treatise 4/Book 2

BOOK II.
PART I.
SECT. I.
We have consider'd what Virtue is, and to whom the Character belongs. It remains to inquire, What Obligation there is to Virtue; or what Reason to embrace it.
We have found, that to deserve the name of good or virtuous, a Creature must have all his Inclinations and Affections, his Dispositions of Mind and Temper, sutable, and agreeing with the Good of his Kind, or of that System in which he is included, and of which he constitutes a Part. To stand thus well affected, and to have one's Affections right and intire, not only in respect of one's self, but of Society and the Publick: This is Rectitude, Integrity, or Virtue. And to be wanting in any of these, or to have ​their Contrarys, is Depravity, Corruption, and Vice.
It has been already shewn, that in the Passions and Affections of particular Creatures, there is a constant relation to the Interest of a Species, or common Nature. This has been demonstrated in the case of natural Affection, parental Kindness, Zeal for Posterity, Concern for the Propagation and Nurture of the Young, Love of Fellowship and Company, Compassion, mutual Succour, and the rest of this kind. Nor will any-one deny that this Affection of a Creature towards the Good of the Species or common Nature, is as proper and natural to him, as it is to any Organ, Part or Member of an Animal-Body, or mere Vegetable, to work in its known Course, and regular way of Growth. Tis not more natural for the Stomach to digest, the Lungs to breathe, the Glands to separate Juices, or other Intrails to perform their several Offices; however they may by particular Impediments be sometimes disorder'd or obstructed in their Operations.
There being allow'd therefore in a Creature such Affections as these towards the common Nature, or System of the Kind, together with those other which regard the private Nature, or Self-system; it will appear that in following the first ​these Affections, the Creature must on many Occasions contradict and go against the latter. How else shou'd the Species be preserv'd? Or what wou'd signify that implanted natural Affection, by which a Creature thro' so many Difficultys and Hazards preserves its Offspring, and supports its Kind?
It may therefore be imagin'd, perhaps, that there is a plain and absolute Opposition between these two Habits or Affections. It may be presum'd, that the pursuing the common Interest or publick Good thro' the Affections of one kind, must be a hinderance to the Attainment of private Good thro' the Affections of another. For it being taken for granted, that Hazards and Hardships, of whatever sort, are naturally the Ill of the private State; and it being certainly the Nature of those publick Affections to lead often to the greatest Hardships and Hazards of every kind; 'tis presently infer'd, "That 'tis the Creature's Interest to be without any publick Affection whatsoever."
This we know for certain; That all social Love, Friendship, Gratitude, or whatever else is of this generous kind, does by its nature take place of the self-interesting Passions, draws us out of our-selves, and make us disregardful ​of our-own Convenience and Safety. So that according to a known way of reasoning on Self-interest, that which is of a social kind in us, shou'd of right be abolish'd. Thus Kindness of every sort, Indulgence, Tenderness, Compassion, and in short, all natural Affection shou'd be industriously suppress'd, and, as mere Folly, and Weakness of Nature, be refilled and overcome; that, by this means, there might be nothing remaining in us, which was contrary to a direct Self-end; nothing which might stand in opposition to a steddy and deliberate Pursuit of the most narrowly confin'd Self-interest.
According to this extraordinary Hypothesis, it must be taken for granted, "That in the System of a Kind or Species, the Interest of the private Nature is directly opposite to that of the common one; the Interest of Particulars directly opposite to that of the Publick in general."———A strange Constitution! in which it must be confess'd there is much Disorder and Untowardness; unlike to what we observe elsewhere in Nature. As if in any vegetable or animal Body, the Part or Member cou'd be suppos'd in a good and prosperous State as to it-self, when under a contrary Disposition, and in an unnatural Growth or Habit as to its Whole.
​Now that this is in reality quite otherwise, we shall endeavour to demonstrate; so as to make appear, "That what Men represent as an ill Order and Constitution in the Universe, by making moral Rectitude appear the Ill, and Depravity the Good or Advantage of a Creature, is in Nature just the contrary. That to be well affected towards the Publick Interest and one's own, is not only consistent, but inseparable: and that moral Rectitude, or Virtue, must accordingly be the Advantage, and Vice the Injury and Disadvantage of every Creature."
SECT. II.
There are few perhaps, who when they consider a Creature void of natural Affection, and wholly destitute of a communicative or social Principle, will suppose him, at the same time, either tolerably happy in him-self, or as he stands abroad, with respect to his Fellow-Creatures or Kind. 'Tis generally thought, that such a Creature as this, feels slender Joy in Life, and finds little Satisfaction in the mere sensual Pleasures which remain with him, after the Loss of social Enjoyment, and whatever can be call'd Humanity or Good-nature. We know that to such a Creature as this, tis ​not only incident, to be morose, rancorous and malignant; but that, of necessity, a Mind or Temper thus destitute of Mildness and Benignity, must turn to that which is contrary, and be wrought by Passions of a different kind. Such a Heart as this must be a continual Seat of perverse Inclinations and bitter Aversions, rais'd from a constant ill Humour, Sourness, and Disquiet. The Consciousness of such a Nature, so obnoxious to Mankind, and to all Beings which approach it, must overcloud the Mind with dark Suspicion and Jealousy, alarm it with Fears and Horror, and raise in it a continual Disturbance, even in the most seeming fair and secure State of Fortune, and in the highest degree of outward Prosperity.
This, as to the compleat immoral State, is what, of their own accord, Men readily remark. Where there is this absolute Degeneracy, this total Apostacy from all Candour, Equity, Truft, Sociableness, or Friendship; there are few who do not see and acknowledge the Misery which is consequent. Seldom is the Case misconstru'd, when at worst. The misfortune is, we look not on this Depravity, nor consider how it stands, in less degrees. The Calamity, we think, does not of necessity hold proportion with the Injustice or Iniquity. As if to be absolutely immoral and inhuman, were indeed ​the greatest misfortune and misery; but that to be so, in a little degree, shou'd be no misery nor harm at all! Which to allow, is just as reasonable as to own, that 'tis the greatest Ill of a Body to be in the utmost manner distorted and maim'd; but that to lose the use only of one Limb, or to be impair'd in some one single Organ or Member, is no Inconvenience or Ill worthy the least notice.
The Parts and Proportions of the Mind, their mutual Relation and Dependency, the Connexion and Frame of those passions which confitute the Soul or Temper, may easily be understood by any-one who thinks it worth his while to study this inward Anatomy. 'Tis certain that the Order or Symmetry of this inward Part is, in it-self, no less real and exact, than that of the Body. However, 'tis apparent that few of us endeavour to become Anatomists of this sort. Nor is any-one asham'd of the deepest Ignorance in such a Subject. For tho the greatest Misery and Ill is generally own'd to be from Disposition, and Temper; tho tis allow'd that Temper may often change, and that it actually varys on many occasions, much to our disadvantage; yet how this matter is brought about, we inquire not. We never trouble ourselves to consider thorowly by what means or methods our inward Constitution comes at any ​time to be impar'd or injur'd. The Solutio Continui, which bodily Surgeons talk of, is never apply'd in this case, by Surgeons of another sort. The Notion of a Whole and Parts is not apprehended in this Science. We know not what the effect is, of straining any Affection, indulging any wrong Passion, or relaxing any proper and natural Habit, or good Inclination. Nor can we conceive how a particular Action shou'd have such a sudden Influence on the whole Mind, as to make the Person an immediate Sufferer. We suppose rather that a Man may violate his Faith, commit any Wickedness unfamiliar to him before, engage in any Vice or Villany, without the least prejudice to himself, or any Misery naturally following from the ill Action.
'Tis thus we hear it often said, "Such a Person has done ill indeed: But what is he the worse for it?" Yet speaking of any Nature thorowly savage, curst, and inveterate, we say truly, "Such a one is a plague and torment to himself:" And we allow, "That thro certain Humours, or Passions, and from Temper, merely, a Man may be compleatly miserable; let his outward Circumstances be ever so fortunate." These different Judgments sufficiently demonstrate that we are not accustom'd to think with much coherency on these ​moral Subjects; and that our Notions, in this respect, are not a little confus'd, and contradictory.
Now if the Fabrick of the Mind or Temper appear'd such to us as it really is; if we saw it impossible to remove hence any one good or orderly Affection, or introduce any ill or disorderly one, without drawing on, in some degree, that dissolute State, which at its height is confess'd to be so miserable: 'twou'd then undoubtedly be own'd, that since no ill, immoral, or unjust Action cou'd be committed without either a new inroad and breach on the Temper and Passions, or a farther advancing of that Execution already begun; whoever did ill, or acted in prejudice of his Integrity, Good-nature, or Worth, wou'd of necessity act with greater Cruelty towards himself, than he who scrupled not to swallow what was poisonous, or who with his own hands shou'd voluntarily mangle or wound his outward Form or Constitution, natural Limbs or Body.
SECT. III.
It has been shewn before, that no Animal can be said properly to act, otherwise than thro' Affections or Passions, such as are proper to an Animal. For in convulsive Fits, where a Creature strikes either himself or others, 'tis a simple Mechanism, an Engine, or Piece of Clockwork, which acts, and not the Animal.
Whatsoever therefore is done or acted by any Animal as such, is done only thro' some Affection or Passion, as of Fear, Love, or Hatred moving him.
And as it is impossible that a weaker Affection shou'd overcome a stronger, so it is impossible but that where the Affections or Passions are strongest in the main, and form in general the most considerable Party, either by their Force or Number; thither the Animal must incline: and according to this Balance he must be govern'd, and led to Action.
The Affections or Passions which must influence and govern the Animal, are either,
1. The natural Affections, which lead to the Good of The Publick.
​2. Or the Self-affections, which lead only to the Good of The Private.
3. Or such as are neither of these; not tending either to any Good of the Publick. or Private; but contrary-wise: and which may therefore be justly styl'd unnatural Affections.
So that according as these Affections stand, a Creature must be virtuous or vitious, good or ill.
The latter sort of these Affections, 'tis evident, are wholly vitious. The two former may be vitious or virtuous, according to their degree.
It may seem strange, perhaps, to speak of natural Affections as too strong, or of Self-affections as too weak. But to clear this Difficulty, we must call to mind what has been already explain'd, "That natural Affection may, in particular Cases, be excessive, and in an unnatural degree:" As when Pity is so overcoming as to destroy its own End, and prevent the Succour and Relief requir'd; or as when Love to the Offspring proves such a Fondness as destroys the Parent, and consequently the Offspring it-self. And notwithstanding it may seem harsh to call that unnatural and vitious, ​which is only an Extreme of some natural and kind Affection; yet 'tis most certain, that wherever any single good Affection of this sort is over-great, it must be injurious to the rest, and detract in some measure from their Force and natural Operation. For a Creature possess'd with such an immoderate Degree of Passion, must of necessity allow too much to that one, and too little to others of the same Character, and equally natural and useful as to their End. And this must necessarily be the occasion of Partiality and Injustice, whilst only one Duty or natural Part is earnestly follow'd; and other Parts or Dutys neglected, which shou'd accompany it, and perhaps take place and be prefer'd.
This may well be allow'd true in all other respects; since even Religion it-self, consider'd as a Passion, not of the selfish but nobler kind, may in some Characters be strain'd beyond its natural Proportion, and be said also to be in too high a degree. For as the End of Religion is to render us more perfect, and accomplish'd in all moral Dutys and Performances; if by the height of devout Extasy and Contemplation we are rather disabled in this respect, and renderd more unapt to the real Dutys and Offices of civil Life; it may be said that Religion indeed is then too strong in us. For ​how, possibly, can we call this Superstition, whilst the Object of the Devotion is acknowledg'd just, and the Faith orthodox? 'Tis only the Excess of Zeal, which, in this Case, is so transporting, as to render the devout Person more remiss in secular Affairs, and less concern'd for the inferior and temporal Interests of Mankind.
Now as in particular Cases, publick Affection, on the one hand, may be too high; so private Affection may, on the other hand, be too weak. For if a Creature be self-neglectful, and insensible of Danger; or if he want such a degree of Passion in any kind, as is useful to preserve, sustain, or defend himself; this must certainly be esteem'd vitious, in regard of the Design and End of Nature. She her-self discovers this in her known Method and stated Rule of Operation. 'Tis certain, that her provisionary Care and Concern for the whole Animal, must at least be equal to her Concern for a single Part or Member. Now to the several Parts she has given, we see proper Affections, sutable to their Interest and Security; so that even without our Consciousness; they act in their own Defence, and for their own Benefit and Preservation. Thus an Eye, in its natural State, fails not to shut together, of its own accord, unknowingly to us, by a peculiar Caution and ​Timidity; which if it wanted, however we might intend the Preservation of our Eye, we shou'd not in effect be able to preserve it, by any Observation or Forecast of our own. To be wanting therefore in those principal Affections, which respect the Good of the whole Constitution, must be a Vice and Imperfection, as great surely in the principal part (the Soul or Temper) as it is in any of those inferior and subordinate parts to want the self-preserving Affections which are proper to them.
And thus the Affections towards private Good become necessary and essential to Goodness. For tho no Creature can be call'd good, or virtuous, merely for possessing these Affections; yet since it is impossible that the publick Good, or Good of the System, can be preserv'd without them; it follows that a Creature really wanting in them, is in reality wanting in some degree to Goodness and natural Rectitude; and may thus be esteem'd vitious and defective.
'Tis thus we say of a Creature, in a kind way of Reproof, that he is too good; when his Affection towards others is so warm and zealous, as to carry him even beyond his Part; or when he really acts beyond it, not thro' too warm a Passion of that sort, but thro' an over-​cool one of another, or thro' want of some Self-passion to restrain him within due Bounds.
It may be objected here, that the having the natural Affections too strong, (where the Self-affections are overmuch so) or the having the Self-affections defective or weak, (where the natural Affections are also weak) may prove upon occasion the only Cause of a Creature's acting honestly and in moral proportion. For, thus, one who is to a fault regardless of his Life, may with the smallest degree of natural Affection do all which can be expected from the highest Pitch of social Love, or zealous Friendship. And thus, on the other hand, a Creature excessively timorous may, by as exceeding a degree of natural Affection, perform whatever the perfected Courage is able to inspire.
To this it is answer'd, That whenever we arraign any Passion as too strong, or complain of any as too weak; we must speak with respect to a certain Constitution or OEconomy of a particular Creature, or Species. For if a Passion, leading to any right end, be only so much the more serviceable and effectual, for being strong; if we may be assur'd that the strength of it will not be the occasion of any disturbance within, nor of any disproportion between it-​self and other Affections; then consequently the Passion, however strong, cannot be condemn'd as vitious. But if to have all the Passions in equal proportion with it, be what the Constitution of the Creature cannot bear; so that only some Passions are rais'd to this height, whilst others are not, nor can possibly be wrought up to the same proportion; then may those strong Passions, tho of the better kind, be call'd excessive. For being in unequal proportion to the others, and causing an ill Balance in the Affection at large, they must of course be the occasion of Inequality in the Conduct, and incline the Party to a wrong moral Practice.
But to shew more particularly what is meant by the OEconomy of the Passions, from Instances in the Species or Kinds below us. As for the Creatures who have no manner of Power or Means given them by Nature for their defence against Violence, nor any-thing by which they can make themselves formidable to such as injure or offend them; 'tis necessary they shou'd have an extraordinary degree of Fear, but little or no Animosity, such as might cause 'em to make refinance, or incline 'em to delay their Flight. For in this their Safety lies, and to ​this the Passion of Fear is serviceable, by keeping the Senses on the watch, and holding the Spirits in readiness to give the start.
And thus Timorousness, and an habitual strong Passion of Fear, may be according to the OEconomy of a particular Creature, both with respect to himself, and to the rest of his Species. On the other hand, Courage may be contrary to his OEconomy, and therefore vitious. Even in one and the same Species, this is by Nature differently order'd, with respect to different Sexes, Ages, and Growths. The tamer Creatures of the grazing kind, who live in Herds, are different from the wilder, who herd not, but live in Pairs only, apart from Company, as is natural and sutable to their rapacious Life. Yet is there found, even among the former inoffensive kind, a Courage proportionable to their Make and Strength. At a time of danger, when the whole Herd flies, the Bull alone makes head against the Lion, or whatever other invading Beast of Prey, and shews himself conscious of his Make. Even the Female of this kind is arm'd, we see, by Nature, in some degree, to resist violence; so as not to fly a common Danger. As for a Hind, or Doe, or any other inoffensive and mere defenceless Creature; 'tis no way unnatural or vitious in them, when the Enemy ap​proaches, to desert their Offspring, and fly for Safety. But for Creatures who are able to make Resistance, and are by Nature arm'd offensively; be they of the poorest Insect-kind, such as Bees or Wasps; 'tis natural to 'em to be rouz'd with Fury, and at the hazard of their Lives, oppose any Enemy or Invader of their Species. For by this known Passion in the Creature, the Species it-self is secur'd; when by Experience 'tis found that the Creature, tho unable to repel the Injury, yet voluntarily exposes his Life for the Punishment of the invader; and suffers not his Kind to be injur'd with Impunity. And of all other Creatures, Man is in this Sense the most formidable: since if he thinks it just and exemplary, he may possibly in his own, or in his Country's Cause, revenge an Injury on any-one living; and by throwing away his own Life (if he be resolute to that degree) is almost certain Matter of another's, however strongly guarded. Examples of this nature have often serv'd to restrain those in Power, from using it to the utmost Extent, and urging their Inferiors to Extremity.
Upon the whole: It may be said properly to be the same with the Affections or Passions in an Animal-Constitution, as with the Cords or Strings of a Musical Instrument. If these, tho in ever so just proportion one to another, are ​strain'd beyond a certain degree, 'tis more than the Instrument will bear: The Lute or Lyre is abus'd, and its Effect lost. On the other hand, if while some of the Strings are duly strain'd, others are not wound up to their due proportion; then is the Instrument still in disorder, and its Part ill perform'd. The several Species of Creatures are like different sorts of Instruments: And even in the same Species of Creatures (as in the same sort of Instrument) one is not intirely like the other, nor will the same Strings fit each. The same degree of Strength which winds up one, and fits the several Strings to a just Harmony and Concert, may in another burst both the Strings and Instrument it-self. Thus Men who have the liveliest Sense, and are the easiest affected with Pain or Pleasure, have need of the strongest Influence or Force of other Affections, such as Tenderness, Love, Sociableness, Compassion, in order to preserve a right Balance within, and to maintain them in their Duty, and in the just performance of their Part: whilst others, who are of a cooler Blood, or lower Key, need not the same Allay or Counterpart; nor are made by Nature to feel those tender and indearing Affections in so exquisite a degree.
It might be agreeable, one wou'd think, to inquire thus into the different Tunings of the Pas​sions, the various Mixtures and Allays by which Men become so different from one another. For as the highest Improvements of Temper are made in human kind;Best or worst in Man. so the greatest Corruptions and Degeneracys are discoverable in this Race. In the other Species of Creatures around us, there is found generally an exact Proportionableness, Constancy and Regularity in all their Passions and Affections; no failure in the care of the Offspring, or of the Society, to which they are united; no Prostitution of themselves; no Intemperance, or Excess, in any kind. The smaller Creatures, who live as it were in Citys (as Bees and Ants) continue the same Train and Harmony of Life: Nor are they ever false to those Affections, which move them to operate towards their Publick Good. Even those Creatures of Prey, who live the farthest out of Society, maintain, we see, such a Conduct towards one another, as is exactly sutable to the Good of their own Species. Whilst Man, notwithstanding the Assistance of Religion, and the Direction of Laws, is often found to live in less conformity with Nature; and, by means of Religion it-self, is often render'd the more barbarous and inhuman. Marks are set on Men: Distinctions form'd: Opinions decreed, under the severest Penaltys: Antipathys instill'd, and Aversions rais'd in Men against the generality of their ​own Species. So that 'tis hard to find in any Region a human Society which has human Laws. No wonder if in such Societys 'tis so hard to find a Man who lives naturally, and as a Man.
But having shewn what is meant by a Passion's being in too high, or in too low a degree; and that, "To have any natural Affection too high, or any Self-affection too low," tho it be often approv'd as Virtue, is yet, strictly speaking, a Vice and Imperfection: we come now to the plainer and more essential part of Vice, and which alone deserves to be consider'd as such: that is to say.
1. "When either the publick Affections are weak or deficient."
2. "Or the private and Self-affections too strong."
3. "Or that such Affections arise as are neither of these, nor in any degree tending to the Support either of the publick or private System."
Otherwise than thus, it is impossible any Creature can be such as we call ill or vitious. So that if once we prove that it is real​not the Creature’s Interest to be thus vitiously affected, but contrariwise; we shall then have prov’d, "That it is his Interest to be wholly Good and Virtuous": Since in a wholesom and sound State of his Affections, such as we have describ'd, he cannot possibly be other than sound, good and virtuous, in his Action and Behaviour.
Our Business, therefore, will be, to prove;
I. "That to have the Natural, Kindly, or Generous Affections strong and powerful towards the Good of the Publick, is to have the chief Means and Power of Self-enjoyment." And, "That to want them, is certain Misery and Ill."
II. "That to have The Private or Self-affections too strong, or beyond their degree of Subordinacy to the kindly and natural, is also miserable."
III. And, "That to have The Unnatural Affections (viz. such as are neither founded on the Interest of the Kind, or Publick; nor of the private Person, or Creature himself) is to be miserable in the highest degree."
PART II.
SECT. I.
To begin therefore with this Proof, "That to have the Natural Affections (such as are founded in Love, Complacency, Good-will, and in a Sympathy with the Kind or Species) is to have the chief Means and Power of Self-enjoyment: And That to want them is certain Misery and Ill."
We may inquire, first, what those are, which we call Pleasures or Satisfactions; from whence Happiness is generally computed. They are (according to the common distinction) Satisfactions and Pleasures either of the Body, or of the Mind.
That the latter of these Satisfactions are the greatest, is allow'd by most People, and may be prov'd by this: That whenever the Mind, having conceiv'd a high Opinion of the Worth ​of any Action or Behaviour, has receiv'd the strongest Impression of this sort, and is wrought up to the highest pitch or degree of Passion towards the Subject; at such time it sets itself above all bodily Pain as well as Pleasure, and can be no-way diverted from its purpose by Flattery or Terror of any kind. Thus we see Indians, Barbarians, Malefactors, and even the most execrable Villains, for the sake of a particular Gang or Society, or thro’ some cherish'd Notion or Principle of Honour or Gallantry, Revenge, or Gratitude, embrace any manner of Hardship, and defy Torments and Death. Whereas, on the other hand, a Person being plac'd in all the happy Circumstances of outward Enjoyment, surrounded with every thing which can allure or charm the Sense, and being then actually in the very moment of such a pleasing Indulgence; yet no sooner is there any thing amiss within, no sooner has he conceiv’d any internal Ail or Disorder, any thing inwardly vexatious or distemper'd, than instantly his Enjoyment ceases, the pleasure of Sense is at an end; and every means of that sort becomes ineffectual, and is rejected as uneasy, and subject to give Distaste.
The Pleasures of the Mind being allow'd, therefore, superior to those of the Body; it ​follows, "That whatever can create in any intelligent Being a constant flowing Series or Train of mental Enjoyments, or Pleasures of the Mind, is more considerable to his Happiness, than that which can create to him a like constant Course or Train of sensual Enjoyments, or Pleasures of the Body."
Now the mental Enjoyments are either actually the very natural Affections themselves in their immediate Operation: Or they wholly in a manner proceed from them, and are no other than their Effects.
If so; it follows, that the natural Affections duly establish'd in a rational Creature, being the only means which can procure him a constant Series or Succession of the mental Enjoyments, they are the only means which can procure him a certain and solid Happiness.
Now, in the first place, to explain, "How much the natural Affections are in themselves the highest Pleasures and Enjoyments:" There shou'd methinks be little need of proving this to any-one of human Kind, who has ever known the Condition of the Mind under a lively Affection of Love, Gratitude, Bounty, Generosity, Pity, Succour, or whatever else is of a social ​or friendly sort. He who has ever so little Knowledge of human Nature, is sensible what pleasure the Mind perceives when it is touch'd in this generous way. The difference we find between Solitude and Company, between a common Company and that of Friends; the reference of almost all our Pleasures to mutual Converse, and the dependence they have on Society either present or imagin'd; all these are sufficient Proofs in our Behalf.
How much the social Pleasures are superior to any other, may be known by visible Tokens and Effects. The very outward Features, the Marks and Signs which attend this sort of Joy, are expressive of a more intense, clear, and undisturb'd Pleasure, than those which attend the Satisfaction of Thirst, Hunger, and other ardent Appetites. But more particularly still may this Superiority be known, from the actual Prevalence and Ascendency of this sort of Affection over all besides. Where-ever it presents it-self with any advantage, it silences and appeases every other Motion of Pleasure. No Joy, merely of Sense, can be a Match for it. Whoever is Judge of both the Pleasures, will ever give the preference to the former. But to be able to judge of both, 'tis necessary to have a Sense of each. The honest Man indeed can judge of sensual Pleasure, and knows its utmost ​Force. For neither is his Taste, or Sense, the duller; but, on the contrary, the more intense and clear, on the account of his Temperance, and a moderate Use of Appetite. But the immoral and profligate Man can by no means be allow'd a good Judge of social Pleasure, to which he is so mere a Stranger by his Nature.
Nor is it any Objection here; That in many Natures the good Affection, tho really present, is found to be of insufficient force. For where it is not in its natural degree, 'tis the same indeed as if it were not, or had never been. The less there is of this good Affection in any untoward Creature, the greater the wonder is, that it shou'd at any time prevail; as in the very worst of Creatures it sometimes will. And if it prevails but for once, in any single Instance; it shews evidently, that if the Affection were thorowly experienc'd or known, it wou'd prevail in all.
Thus the Charm of kind Affection is superior to all other Pleasure: since it has the power of drawing from every other Appetite or Inclination. And thus in the Case of Love to the Offspring, and a thousand other Instances, the Charm is found to operate so strongly on the Temper, as, in the midst of other Temptations, to render it susceptible of this Passion ​alone; which remains as the Master-Pleasure and Conqueror of the rest.
There is no-one who, by the least progress in Science or Learning, has come to know barely the Principles of Mathematicks, but has found, that in the exercise of his Mind on the Discoverys he there makes, tho merely of speculative Truths, he receives a Pleasure and Delight superior to that of Sense. When we have thorowly search'd into the nature of this contemplative Delight, we shall find it of a kind which relates not in the least to any private Interest of the Creature, nor has for its Object any Self-good or Advantage of the private System. The Admiration, Joy, or Love, turns wholly upon what is exterior, and foreign to our-selves. And tho the reflected Joy or Pleasure, which arises from the notice of this Pleasure once perceiv'd, may be interpreted a Self-passion, or interested Regard: yet the original Satisfaction can be no other than what results from the Love of Truth, Proportion, Order, and Symmetry, in the Things without. If this be the Case, the Passion ought in reality to be rank'd with natural Affection. For having no Object within the compass of the private System; it must either be esteem'd superfluous and unnatural, (as having no tendency towards the Advantage or Good of any thing in Na​ture) or it must be judg'd to be, what it truly is, "A natural Joy in the Contemplation of those Numbers, that Harmony, Proportion, and Concord, which supports the universal Nature, and is essential in the Constitution and Form of every particular Species, or Order of Beings."
But this speculative Pleasure, however considerable and valuable it may be, or however superior to any Motion of mere Sense; must yet be far surpass'd by virtuous Motion, and the Exercise of Benignity and Goodness; where, together with the most delightful Affection of the Soul, there is join'd a pleasing Assent and Approbation of the Mind to what is acted in this good Disposition and honest Bent. For where is there on Earth a fairer Matter of Speculation, a goodlier View or Contemplation, than that of a beautiful, proportion'd, and becoming Action? Or what is there relating to us, of which the Consciousness and Memory is more solidly and lastingly entertaining?
We may observe that in the Passion of Love between the Sexes, where, together with the Affection of a vulgar sort, there is a mixture of the kind and friendly, the Sense or Feeling of ​this latter is in reality superior to the former; since often thro' this Affection, and for the sake of the Person belov'd, the greatest Hardships in the World have been submitted to, and even Death it-self voluntarily imbrac'd, without any expected Compensation. For where shou'd the Ground of such an Expectation lie? Not here, in this World surely; for Death puts an end to all. Nor yet hereafter, in any other: for who has ever thought of providing a Heaven or future Recompence for the suffering Virtue of Lovers?
We may observe, withal, in favour of the natural Affections, that it is not only when Joy and Sprightliness are mix'd with them that they carry a real Enjoyment above that of the sensual kind. The very Disturbances which belong to natural Affection, tho they may be thought wholly contrary to Pleasure, yield still a Contentment and Satisfaction greater than the Pleasures of indulg'd Sense. And where a Series or continu'd Succession of the tender and kind Affections can be carry'd on, even thro' Fears, Horrors, Sorrows, Griefs; the Emotion of the Soul is still agreeable. We continue pleas'd even with this melancholy Aspect or Sense of Virtue. Her Beauty supports it-self under a Cloud, and in the midst of surrounding Calamitys. For thus, when by mere ​Illusion, as in a Tragedy, the Passions of this kind are skilfully excited in us; we prefer the Entertainment to any other of equal duration. We find by our-selves, that the moving our Passions in this mournful way, the engaging them in behalf of Merit and Worth, and the exerting whatever we have of social Affection, and human Sympathy, is of the highest Delight; and affords a greater Enjoyment in the way of Thought and Sentiment, than any thing besides can do in a way of Sense and common Appetite. And after this manner it appears, "How much the mental Enjoyments are actually the very natural Affections themselves."
Now, in the next place, to explain, "How they proceed from them, as their natural Effects:" we may consider first, That the Effects of Love or kind Affection, in a way of mental Pleasure, are, "An Enjoyment of Good by Communication: A receiving it, as it were by Reflection, or by way of Participation in the Good of others." And "A pleasing Consciousness of the actual Love, merited Esteem or Approbation of others."
How considerable a part of Happiness arises from the former of these Effects, will be easily apprehended by one who is not exceedingly ill-natur'd. It will be consider'd how ma​ny the Pleasures are, of sharing Contentment and Delight with others; of receiving it in Fellowship and Company; and gathering it, in a manner, from the pleas'd and happy States of those around us, from accounts and relations of such Happinesses, from the very Countenances, Gestures, Voices and Sounds, even of Creatures foreign to our Kind, whose Signs of Joy and Contentment we can anyway discern. So insinuating are these Pleasures of Sympathy, and so widely diffus'd thro' our whole Lives, that there is hardly such a thing as Satisfaction or Contentment, of which they make not an essential part.
As for that other Effect of social Love, viz. the Consciousness of merited Kindness or Esteem; 'tis not difficult to perceive how much this avails in mental Pleasure, and constitutes the chief Enjoyment and Happiness of those who are, in the narrowest sense, voluptuous. How natural is it for the most selfish among us, to be continually drawing some sort of Satisfaction from a Character, and pleasing our-selves in the Fancy of deserv'd Admiration and Esteem? For tho it be mere Fancy, we endeavour still to believe it Truth, and flatter our-selves, all we can, with the Thought of Merit of some kind, and the Persuasion of our deserving well from some few at least, with whom we happen ​to have a more intimate and familiar Commerce.
What Tyrant is there, what Robber, or open Violater of the Laws of Society, who has not a Companion, or some particular Set, either of his own Kindred, or such as he calls Friends; with whom he gladly shares his Good; in whose Welfare he delights; and whose Joy and Satisfaction he makes his own? What Person in the world is there, who receives not some Impressions from the Flattery or Kindness of such as are familiar with him? 'Tis to this soothing Hope and Expectation of Friendship, that almost all our Actions have some reference. 'Tis this which goes thro' our whole Lives, and mixes it-self even with most of our Vices. Of this, Vanity, Ambition, and Luxury, have a share; and many other Disorders of our Life partake. Even the unchastest Love borrows largely from this Source. So that were Pleasure to be computed in the same way as other things commonly are; it might properly be said, that out of these two Branches (viz. Community or Participation in the Pleasures of others, and Belief of meriting well from others) wou'd arise more than nine Tenths of whatever is enjoy'd in Life. And thus in the main Sum of Happiness, there is scarce a single Article, but what derives it-self from social Love, and de​pends immediately on the natural and kind Affections.
Now such as Causes are, such must be their Effects. And therefore as natural Affection or social Love is perfect, or imperfect; so must be the Content and Happiness depending on it.
But lest any shou'd imagine with themselves that an inferior Degree of natural Affection, or an imperfect partial Regard of this sort, can supply the place of an intire, sincere, and truly moral one; lest a small Tincture of social Inclination shou'd be thought sufficient to answer the End of Pleasure in Society, and give us that Enjoyment of Participation and Community which is so essential to our Happiness; we may consider first, That Partial Affection, or social Love in part, without regard to a compleat Society or Whole, is in it-self an Inconsistency, and implies an absolute Contradiction. Whatever Affection we have towards any thing besides our-selves; if it be not of the natural sort towards the System, or Kind; it must be of all other Affections, the most dissociable, and destructive of the Enjoyments of Society: If it be really of the natural sort, and apply'd only to some one Part of Society, or of a Species, but ​not to the Species or Society it-self; there can be no more account given of it, than of the most odd, capricious, or humoursom Passion which may arise. The Person, therefore, who is conscious of this Affection, can be conscious of no Merit or Worth on the account of it. Nor can the Persons on whom this capricious Affection has chanc'd to fall, be in any manner secure of its Continuance or Force. As it has no Foundation or Establishment in Reason; so it must be easily removable, and subject to alteration, without Reason. Now the Variableness of such sort of Passion, which depends solely on Capriciousness and Humour, and undergoes the frequent Successions of alternate Hatred and Love, Aversion and Inclination, must of necessity create continual Disturbance and Disgust, give an allay to what is immediately enjoy'd in the way of Friendship and Society, and in the end extinguish, in a manner, the very Inclination towards Friendship and human Commerce. Whereas, on the other hand, Intire Affection (from whence Integrity has its name) as it is answerable to it-self, proportionable, and rational; so it is irrefragable, solid, and durable. And as in the case of Partiality, or vitious Friendship, which has no rule or order, every Reflection of the Mind necessarily makes to its disadvantage, and lessens the Enjoyment; so in the case of ​Integrity, the Consciousness of just Behaviour towards Mankind in general, casts a good reflection on each friendly Affection in particular, and raises the Enjoyment of Friendship still the higher, in the way of Community or Participation above-mention'd.
And in the next place, as partial Affection is fitted only to a short and slender Enjoyment of those pleasures of Sympathy or Participation with others; so neither is it able to derive any considerable Enjoyment from that other principal Branch of human Happiness, viz. Consciousness of the actual or merited Esteem of others. From whence shou'd this Esteem arise? The Merit, surely, must in it-self be mean, whilst the Affection is so precarious and uncertain. What Trust can there be to a mere casual Inclination or capricious Liking? Who can depend on such a Friendship as is founded on no moral Rule, but fantastically assign'd to some single Person, or small Part of Mankind, exclusive of Society, and the Whole?
It may be consider'd, withal, as a thing impossible; that they who esteem or love by any other Rule than that of Virtue, shou'd place their Affection on such Subjects as they can long esteem or love. 'Twill be hard for them, in the number of their so belov'd Friends, to ​find any, in whom they can heartily rejoice; or whose reciprocal Love or Esteem they can sincerely prize and enjoy. Nor can those Pleasures be sound or lasting, which are gather'd from a Self-flattery, and false Persuasion of the Esteem and Love of others, who are incapable of any sound Esteem or Love. It appears therefore how much the Men of narrow or partial Affection must be Losers in this sense, and of necessity fall short in this second principal part of mental Enjoyment.
Mean while intire Affection has all the opposite advantages. It is equal, constant, accountable to it-self, ever satisfactory, and pleasing. It gains Applause and Love from the best; and in all disinterested cases, from the very worst of Men. We may say of it, with justice, that it carrys with it a Consciousness of merited Love and Approbation from all Society, from all intelligent Creatures, and from whatever is original to all other Intelligence. And if there be in Nature any such Original; we may add, that the Satisfaction which attends intire Affection, is full and noble, in proportion to its final Object, which contains all Perfection; according to the Sense of Theism above-noted. For this, as has been shewn, is the result of Virtue. And to have this intire Affection or Integrity of Mind, is to live according to Nature, ​and the Dictates and Rules of supreme Wisdom. This is Morality, Justice, Piety, and natural Religion.
But lest this Argument shou'd appear perhaps too scholastically stated, and in Terms and Phrases, which are not of familiar use; we may try whether possibly we can set it yet in a plainer light.
Let any-one, then, consider well those Pleasures which he receives either in private Retirement, Contemplation, Study, and Converse with himself; or in Mirth, Jollity, and Entertainment with others; and he will find, That they are wholly founded in An easy Temper, free of Harshness, Bitterness, or Distaste; and in A Mind or Reason well compos'd, quiet, easy within it-self, and such as can freely bear its own inspection and Review. Now such a Mind, and such a Temper, which fit and qualify for the Enjoyment of the Pleasures mention'd, must of necessity be owing to the natural and good Affections.
As to what relates to Temper, it may be consider'd thus. There is no State of outward Prosperity, or flowing Fortune, where Inclination and Desire are always satisfy'd, Fancy and Humour pleas'd. There are almost hourly some ​Impediments or Crosses to the Appetite; some Accidents or other from without; or something from within, to check the licentious Course of the indulg'd Affections. They are not always to be satisfy'd by mere Indulgence. And when a Life is guided by Fancy only, there is sufficient ground of Contrariety and Disturbance. The very ordinary Lassitudes, Uneasinesses, and Defects of Disposition in the soundest Body; the interrupted Course of the Humours or Spirits in the healthiest People; and the accidental Disorders common to every Constitution, are sufficient, we know, on many occasions, to breed Uneasiness and Distaste. And this, in time, must grow into a Habit; where there is nothing to oppose its progress, and hinder its prevailing on the Temper. Now the only sound Opposite to Ill Humour, is natural and kind Affection. For we may observe, that when the Mind, upon reflection, resolves at any time to suppress this Disturbance already risen in the Temper, and sets about this reforming Work with heartiness and in good earnest; it can no otherwise accomplish the Undertaking, than by introducing into the affectionate Part some gentle Feeling of the social and friendly kind; some enlivening Motion of Kindness, Fellowship, Complacency, or Love, to allay and convert that contrary Motion of Impatience and Discontent.
​If it be said perhaps, that in the case before us, Religious Affections or Devotion is a sufficient and proper Remedy; we answer, That 'tis according as the Kind may happily prove. For if it be of the pleasant and chearful sort, 'tis of the very kind of natural Affection it-self: if it be of the dismal or fearful sort; if it brings along with it any Affection opposite to Manhood, Generosity, Courage, or Free-thought; there will be nothing gain'd by this Application; and the Remedy will, in the issue, be undoubtedly found worse than the Disease. The severest Reflections on our Duty, and the Consideration merely of what is by Authority and under Penaltys enjoin'd, will not by any means serve to calm us on this occasion. The more dismal our Thoughts are on such a Subject, the worse our Temper will be, and the readier to discover it-self in Harshness, and Austerity. If, perhaps, by Compulsion, or thro' any Necessity or Fear incumbent, a different Carriage be at any time effected, or different Maxims own'd; the Practice at the bottom will be still the same. If the Countenance be compos'd; the Heart, however, will not be chang'd. The ill Passion may for the time be with-held from breaking into Action; but will not be subdu'd, or in the least debilitated ​against the next occasion. So that in such a Breast as this, whatever Devotion there may be; 'tis likely there will in time be little of an easy Spirit, or good Temper remaining; and consequently few and slender Enjoyments of a mental kind.
If it be objected, on the other hand, that tho in melancholy Circumstances ill Humour may prevail, yet in a Course of outward Prosperity, and in the height of Fortune, there can nothing probably occur which shou'd thus sour the Temper, and give it such disrelish as is suggested; we may consider, that the most humour'd and indulg'd State is apt to receive the most disturbance from every Disappointment or smallest Ail. And if Provocations are easiest rais'd, and the Passions of Anger, Offence, and Enmity, are found the highest in the most indulg'd State of Will and Humour; there is still the greater need of a Supply from social Affection, to preserve the Temper from running into Savageness and Inhumanity. And this, the Case of Tyrants, and most unlimited Potentates, may sufficiently verify and demonstrate.
Now as to the other part of our Consideration, which relates to a Mind or Reason well compos'd and easy within it-self; upon what ac​count this Happiness may be thought owing to natural Affection, we may possibly resolve our-selves, after this manner. It will be acknowledg'd that a Creature, such as Man, who from several degrees of Reflection has risen to that Capacity which we call Reason and Understanding; must in the very use of this his reasoning Faculty, be forc'd to receive Reflections back into his Mind of what passes in it-self, as well as in the Affections, or Will; in short, of whatsoever relates to his Character, Conduct, or Behaviour amidst his Fellow-Creatures, and in Society. Or shou'd he be of himself unapt; there are others ready to remind him, and refresh his Memory, in this way of Criticism. We have all of us Remembrances enow to help us in this Work. Nor are the greatest Favourites of Fortune exempted from this Talk of Self-inspection. Even Flattery itself, by making the View agreeable, renders us more attentive this way, and insnares us in the Habit. The vainer any Person is, the more he has his Eye inwardly fix'd upon himself; and is, after a certain manner, employ'd in this home-Survey. And when a true Regard to our-selves cannot oblige us to this Inspection, a false Regard to others, and a Fondness for Reputation raises a watchful Jealousy, and furnishes us sufficiently with Acts of Reflection on our own Character and Conduct.
​In whatever manner we consider of this, we shall find still, that every reasoning or reflecting Creature is, by his Nature, forc'd to endure the Review of his own Mind, and Actions; and to have Representations of himself, and his inward Affairs, constantly passing before him, obvious to him, and revolving in his Mind. Now as nothing can be more grievous than this is, to one who has thrown off natural Affection; so nothing can be more delightful to one who has preserv'd it with sincerity.
There are two Things, which to a rational Creature must be horridly offensive and grievous; viz; "To have the Reflection in his Mind of any unjust Action or Behaviour, which he knows to be naturally odious and ill-deserving: Or, of any foolish Action or Behaviour, which he knows to be prejudicial to his own Interest or Happiness."
The former of these is alone properly call'd Conscience; whether in a moral, or religious Sense. For to have Awe and Terror of the Deity, does not, of it-self, imply Conscience. No one is esteem'd the more conscientious for the fear of evil Spirits, Conjurations, Enchantments, or whatever may proceed from any unjust, capricious, or devilish Nature. Now to fear God any otherwise than as in ​consequence of some justly blameable and imputable Act, is to fear a devilish Nature, not a divine one. Nor does the Fear of Hell, or a thousand Terrors of the Deity, imply Conscience; unless where there is an Apprehension of what is wrong, odious, morally deform'd, and ill-deserving. And where this is the Case, there Conscience must have effect, and Punishment of necessity be apprehended; even tho it be not expresly threaten'd.
And thus religious Conscience supposes moral or natural Conscience. And tho the former be understood to carry with it the Fear of divine Punishment; it has its force however from the apprehended moral Deformity and Odiousness of any Act, with respect purely to the Divine Presence, and the natural Veneration due to such a suppos'd Being. For in such a Presence, the Shame of Villany or Vice must have its force, independently on that farther Apprehension of the magisterial Capacity of such a Being, and his Dispensation of particular Rewards or Punishments in a future State.
It has been already said, that no Creature can maliciously and intentionally do ill, without being sensible, at the same time, that he deserves ill. And in this respect, every sen​sible Creature may be said to have Conscience. For with all Mankind, and all intelligent Creatures, this must ever hold, "That what they know they deserve from every-one, that they necessarily must fear and expect from all." And thus Suspicions and ill Apprehensions must arise, with Terror both of Men and of the Deity. But besides this, there must in every rational Creature, be yet farther Conscience; viz. from Sense of Deformity in what is thus ill-deserving and unnatural: and from a consequent Shame or Regret of incurring what is odious, and moves Aversion.
There scarcely is, or can be any Creature, whom Consciousness of Villany, as such merely, does not at all offend; nor any thing opprobrious or heinously imputable, move, or affect. If there be such a one; 'tis evident he must be absolutely indifferent towards moral Good or Ill. If this indeed be his Case; 'twill be allow'd he can be no-way capable of natural Affection: If not of that, then neither of any social Pleasure, or mental Enjoyment, as shewn above; but on the contrary, he must be subject to all manner of horrid, unnatural, and ill Affection. So that to want Conscience, or natural Sense of the Odiousness of Crime and Injustice, is to be most of all miserable in Life: but where Conscience, or Sense of this sort, remains; there, ​consequently, whatever is committed against it, must of necessity, by means of Reflection, as we have shewn, be continually shameful, grievous and offensive.
A Man who in a Passion happens to kill his Companion, relents immediately on the sight of what he has done. His Revenge is chang'd into Pity, and his Hatred turn'd against himself. And this merely by the Power of the Object. On this account he suffers Agonys; the Subject of this continually occurs to him; and of this he has a constant ill Remembrance and displeasing Consciousness. If on the other side, we suppose him not to relent or suffer any real Concern or Shame; then, either he has no Sense of the Deformity of the Crime and Injustice, no natural Affection, and consequently no Happiness or Peace within: or if he has any Sense of moral Worth or Goodness, it must be of a perplex'd, and contradictory kind. He must pursue an inconsistent Notion, idolize some false Species of Virtue; and affect as noble, gallant, or worthy, that which is irrational and absurd. And how tormenting this must be to him, is easy to conceive. For never can such a Phantom as this be reduc'd to any certain Form. Never can this Proteus of Honour be held steddy, to one Shape. The Pursuit of it can only be vexatious and distracting. There ​is nothing beside real Virtue (as has been shewn) which can possibly hold any proportion to Esteem, Approbation, or good Conscience. And he who, being led by false Religion or prevailing Custom, has learnt to esteem or admire any thing as Virtue which is not really such; must either thro' the Inconsistency of such an Esteem, and the perpetual Immoralitys occasion'd by it, come at last to lose all Conscience, and so be miserable in the worst way: or, if he retains any Conscience at all, it must be of a kind never satisfactory, or able to bestow Content. For 'tis impossible that a cruel Enthusiast, or Bigot, a Persecutor, a Murderer, a Bravo, a Pirate, or any Villain of less degree, who is false to the Society of Mankind in general, and contradicts natural Affection; shou'd have any fix'd Principle at all, any real Standard or Measure by which he can regulate his Esteem, or any solid Reason by which to form his Approbation of any one moral Act. And thus the more he sets up Honour, or advances Zeal; the worse he renders his Nature, and the more detestable his Character. The more he engages in the Love or Admiration of any Action or Practice, as great and glorious, which is in it-self morally ill and vitious; the more Contradiction and Self-disapprobation he must incur. For there being nothing more certain than this, "That no natural Affection can be ​contradicted, nor any unnatural one advanc'd, without a prejudice in some degree to all natural Affection in general:" it must follow, "That inward Deformity growing greater, by the Incouragement of unnatural Affection; there must be so much the more Subject for dissatisfactory Reflection, the more any false Principle of Honour, any false Religion, or Superstition prevails."
So that whatever Notions of this kind are cherish'd; or whatever Character affected, which is contrary to moral Equity, and leads to Inhumanity, thro' a false Conscience, or wrong Sense of Honour, serves only to bring a Man the more under the lash of real and just Conscience, Shame, and Self-reproach. Nor can any one, who, by any pretended Authority, commits one single Immorality, be able to satisfy himself with any Reason, why he shou'd not at another time be carry'd further, into all manner of Villany; such perhaps as he even abhors to think of. And this is a Reproach which a Mind must of necessity make to it-self upon the least Violation of natural Conscience; in doing what is morally deform'd, and ill-deserving; tho warranted by any Example or Precedent amongst Men, or by any suppos'd Injunction or Command of higher Powers.
​Now as for that other part of Conscience, viz. the remembrance of what was at any time unreasonably and foolishly done, in prejudice of one's real Interest or Happiness: This dissatisfactory Reflection must follow still and have effect, wheresoever there is a Sense of moral Deformity, contracted by Crime, and Injustice. For even where there is no Sense of moral Deformity, as such merely; there must be still a Sense of the ill Merit of it with respect to God and Man. Or tho there were a possibility of excluding for ever all Thoughts or Suspicions of any superior Powers, yet considering that this Insensibility towards moral Good or Ill implies a total Defect in natural Affection, and that this Defect can by no Dissimulation be conceal'd; 'tis evident that a Man of this unhappy Character must suffer a very sensible Loss in the Friendship, Trust, and Confidence of other Men; and consequently must suffer in his Interest and outward Happiness. Nor can the Sense of this Disadvantage fail to occur to him; when he sees, with Regret, and Envy, the better and more grateful Terms of Friendship and Esteem, on which better People live with the rest of Mankind. Even therefore where natural Affection is wanting; 'tis certain still, that by Immorality, necessarily happening thro' want ​of such Affection, there must be disturbance from Conscience of this sort, viz. from Sense of what is committed imprudently, and contrary to real Interest and Advantage.
From all this we may easily conclude, how much our Happiness depends on natural and good Affection. For if the chief Happiness be from the Mental Pleasures; and the chief mental Pleasures are such as we have describ'd, and are founded in natural Affection; it follows, "That to have the natural Affections, is to have the chief Means and Power of Self-enjoyment, the highest Possession and Happiness of Life."
Now as to the Pleasures of the Body, and the Satisfactions belonging to mere Sense; 'tis evident, they cannot possibly have their Effect, or afford any valuable Enjoyment, otherwise than by the means of social and natural Affection.
To live well, has no other meaning with some People, than to eat and drink well. And methinks 'tis an unwary Concession we make in favour of these pretended good Livers, when we join with 'em, in honouring their way of Life with the Title of living fast. As if they liv'd the fastest who took the greatest pains to enjoy least ​of Life: For if our Account of Happiness be right; the greatest Enjoyments in Life are such as these Men pass over in their haste, and have scarce ever allow'd themselves the Liberty of tasting.
But as considerable a Part of Voluptuousness as is founded in the Palat; and as notable as the Science is, which depends on it; one may justly presume that the Ostentation of Elegance, and a certain Emulation and Study how to excel in this sumptuous Art of Living, goes very far in the raising such a high Idea of it, as is observ'd among the Men of Pleasure. For were the Circumstances of a Table and Company, Equipages, Services, and the rest of the Management withdrawn; there wou'd be hardly left any Pleasure worth acceptance, even in the Opinion of the most debauch'd themselves.
The very Notion of a Debauch (which is a Sally into whatever can be imagin'd of Pleasure and Voluptuousness) carrys with it a plain reference to Society, or Fellowship. It may be call'd a Surfeit, or Excess of Eating and Drinking, but hardly a Debauch of that kind, when the Excess is committed separately, out of all Society, or Fellowship. And one who abuses himself in this way, is often call'd a Sot, but ​never a Debauchee. The Courtizans, and even the commonest of Women, who live by Prostitution, know very well how necessary it is, that every-one whom they entertain with their Beauty, shou'd believe there are Satisfactions reciprocal; and that Pleasures are no less given than receiv'd. And were this Imagination to be wholly taken away, there wou'd be hardly any of the grosser sort of Mankind, who wou'd not perceive their remaining Pleasure to be of slender Estimation.
Who is there can well or long enjoy any thing, when alone, and abstracted perfectly, even in his very Mind and Thought, from every thing belonging to Society? Who wou'd not, on such Terms as these, be presently cloy'd by any sensual Indulgence? Who wou'd not soon grow uneasy with his Pleasure, however exquisite, till he had found means to impart it, and make it truly pleasant to him, by communicating, and sharing it at least with some one single Person? Let Men imagine what they please; let 'em suppose themselves ever so selfish; or desire ever so much to follow the Dictates of that narrow Principle, by which they wou'd bring Nature under restraint: Nature will break out; and in Agonys, Disquiets, and a distemper'd State, demonstrate evidently the ill Con​sequence of such Violence, the Absurdity of such a Device, and the Punishment which belongs to such a monstrous and horrid Endeavour.
Thus, therefore, not only the Pleasures of the Mind, but even those of the Body, depend on natural Affection: insomuch that where this is wanting, they not only lose their Force, but are in a manner converted into Uneasiness and Disgust. The Sensations which shou'd naturally afford Contentment and Delight, produce rather Discontent and Sourness, and breed a Wearisomness and Restlessness in the Disposition. This we may perceive by the perpetual Inconstancy, and Love of Change, so remarkable in those who have nothing communicative or friendly in their Pleasures. Good Fellowship, in its abus'd Sense, seems indeed to have something more constant and determining. The Company supports the Humour. 'Tis the same in Love. A certain Tenderness and Generosity of Affection supports the Passion, which otherwise wou'd instantly be chang'd. The perfectest Beauty cannot, of it-self, retain, or fix it. And that Love which has no other Foundation, but relies on this exterior kind, is soon turn'd into Aversion. Satiety, perpetual Disgust, and Feverishness of Desire, attend those who passionately study Pleasure. They ​best enjoy it, who study to regulate their Passions. And by this they will come to know how absolute an Incapacity there is in any thing sensual to please, or give contentment, where it depends not on something friendly or social, something conjoin'd, and in affinity with kind or natural Affection.
But ere we conclude this Article of social or natural Affection, we may take a general View of it, and bring it, once for all, into the Scale; to prove what kind of Balance it helps to make within; and what the Consequence may be, of its Deficiency, or light Weight.
There is no-one of ever so little Understanding in what belongs to a human Constitution, who knows not that without Action, Motion, and Employment, the Body languishes, and is oppress'd; its Nourishment turns to Disease; the Spirits, unimploy'd abroad, help to consume the Parts within; and Nature, as it were, preys upon her-self. In the same manner, the sensible and living Part, the Soul or Mind, wanting its proper and natural Exercise, is burden'd and diseas'd. Its Thoughts and Pas​sions being unnaturally with-held from their due Objects, turn against it-self, and create the highest Impatience and Ill-humour.
In Brutes, and other Creatures, which have not the Use of Reason and Reflection, (at least not after the manner of Mankind) 'tis so order'd in Nature, that by their daily Search after Food, and their Application either towards the Business of their Livelihood, or the Affairs of their Species or Kind, almost their whole time is taken up, and they fail not to find full Imployment for their Passion, according to that degree of Agitation to which they are fitted, and which their Constitution requires. If any one of these Creatures be taken out of his natural laborious State, and plac'd amidst such a Plenty as can profusely administer to all his Appetites and Wants; it may be observ'd, that as his Circumstances grow thus luxuriant, his Temper and Passions have the same growth. When he comes, at any time, to have the Accommodations of Life at a cheaper and easier rate than was at first intended him by Nature, he is made to pay dear for 'em in another way; by losing his natural ​good Disposition, and the Orderliness of his Kind or Species.
This needs not to be demonstrated by particular Instances. Whoever has the least knowledge of natural History, or has been an Observer of the several Breeds of Creatures, and their ways of Life, and Propagation, will easily understand this Difference of Orderliness between the wild and the tame of the same Species. The latter acquire new Habits; and deviate from their original Nature. They lose even the common Instinct and ordinary Ingenuity of their Kind; nor can they ever regain it, whilst they continue in this pamper'd State: but being turn'd to shift abroad, they resume the natural Affection and Sagacity of their Species. They learn to unite in stricter Fellowship; and grow more concern'd for their Offspring. They provide against the Seasons, and make the most of every Advantage given by Nature for the Support and Maintenance of their particular Species, against such as are foreign and hostile. And thus as they grow busy and imploy'd, they grow regular and good. Their Petulancy and Vice forsakes them, with their Idleness and Ease.
It happens with Mankind, that whilst some are by necessity confin'd to Labour, others are ​provided with abundance of all things, by the Pains and Labour of Inferiors. Now, if among the superior and easy sort, there be not something of fit and proper Imployment rais'd in the room of what is wanting in common Labour and Toil; if instead of an Application to any sort of Work, such as has a good and honest End in Society, (as Letters, Sciences, Arts, Husbandry, publick Affairs, OEconomy, or the like) there be a thorow Neglect of all Duty or Imployment; a settled Idleness, Supineness, and Inactivity; this of necessity must occasion a most relax'd and dissolute State: It must produce a total Disorder of the Passions, and break out in the strangest Irregularitys imaginable.
We see the enormous Growth of Luxury in capital Citys, such as have been long the Seat of Empire. We see what Improvements are made in Vice of every kind, where numbers of Men are maintain'd in lazy Opulence, and wanton Plenty. 'Tis otherwise with those who are taken up in honest and due Imployment, and have been well inur'd to it from their Youth. This we may observe in the hardy remote Provincials, the Inhabitants of smaller Towns, and the industrious sort of common People; where 'tis rare to meet with any Instances of those Irregularitys, which are ​known in Courts and Palaces; and in the rich Foundations of easy and pamper'd Priests.
Now if what we have advanc'd concerning an inward Constitution be real and just; if it be true that Nature works by a just Order and Regulation as well in the Passions and Affections, as in the Limbs and Organs which she forms; if it appears withal, that she has so constituted this inward Part, that nothing is so essential to it as Exercise; and no Exercise so essential as that of social or natural Affection: it follows, that where this is remov'd or weaken'd, the inward Part must necessarily suffer and be impair'd. Let Indolence, Indifference, or Insensibility, be study'd as an Art, or cultivated with the utmost Care; the Passions thus restrain'd will force their Prison, and in one way or other procure their Liberty, and find full Employment. They will be sure to create to themselves unusual and unnatural Exercise, where they are cut off from such as is natural and good. And thus in the room of orderly and natural Affection, new and unnatural must be rais'd, and all inward Order and OEconomy destroy'd.
One must have a very imperfect Idea of the Order of Nature in the Formation and Structure of Animals, to imagine that so great a ​Principle, so fundamental a Part as that of natural Affection shou'd possibly be lost or impair'd, without any inward Ruin or Subversion of the Temper and Frame of Mind.
Whoever is the least vers'd in this moral kind of Architecture, will find the inward Fabrick so adjusted, and the whole so nicely built; that the barely extending of a single Passion a little too far, or the continuance of it too long, is able to bring irrecoverable Ruin and Misery. He will find this experienc'd in the ordinary Case of Phrenzy, and Distraction; when the Mind, dwelling too long upon one Subject, (whether prosperous or calamitous) sinks under the weight of it, and proves what the necessity is, of a due Balance, and Counterpoise in the Affections. He will find, that in every different Creature, and distinct Sex, there is a different and distinct Order, Set, or Suit of Passions; proportionable to the different Order of Life, the different Functions and Capacitys assign'd to each. As the Operations and Effects are different, so are the Springs and Causes in each System. The inside Work is fitted to the outward Action and Performance. So that where Habits or Affections are dislodg'd, misplac'd, or chang'd; where those belonging to one Species are intermix'd ​with those belonging to another, there must of necessity be Confusion and Disturbance within.
All this we may observe easily, by comparing the more perfect with the imperfect Natures, such as are imperfect from their Birth, by having suffer'd Violence within, in their earliest Form, and inmost Matrix. We know how it is with Monsters, such as are compounded of different Kinds, or different Sexes. Nor are they less Monsters, who are mishapen or distorted in an inward Part. The ordinary Animals appear unnatural and monstrous, when they lose their proper Instincts, forsake their Kind, neglect their Offspring, and pervert those Functions or Capacitys bestow'd by Nature. How wretched must it be, therefore, for Man, of all other Creatures, to lose that Sense, and Feeling, which is proper to him as a Man, and sutable to his Character, and Genius? How unfortunate must it be for a Creature, whose dependence on Society is greater than any others, to lose that natural Affection by which he is prompted to the Good and Interest of his Species, and Community? Such indeed is Man's natural Share of this Affection, that He, of all other Creatures, is plainly the least able to bear Solitude. Nor is any thing more apparent, than that there is naturally in ​every Man such a degree of social Affection as inclines him to seek the Familiarity and Friendship of his Fellows. 'Tis here that he lets loose a Passion, and gives reins to a Desire, which can hardly by any struggle or inward violence be with-held; or if it be, is sure to create a Sadness, Dejection, and Melancholy in the Mind. For whoever is unsociable, and voluntarily shuns Society, or Commerce with the World, must of necessity be morose and ill-natur'd. He, on the other side, who is with-held by force or accident, finds in his Temper the ill Effects of this Restraint. The Inclination, when suppress'd, breeds Discontent; and on the contrary, affords a healing and enlivening Joy, when acting at its liberty, and with full scope: as we may see particularly, when after a time of Solitude and long Absence, the Heart is open'd, the Mind disburden'd, and the Secrets of the Breast unfolded to a Bosom-Friend.
This we see yet more remarkably instanc'd in Persons of the most elevated Stations; even in Princes, Monarchs, and those who seem by their Condition to be above ordinary human Commerce, and who affect a sort of distant Strangeness from the rest of Mankind. But their Carriage is not the same towards all Men. The wiser and better sort, it's true, are often held at a distance; as unfit for their Intimacy, ​or secret Trust. But to compensate this, there are others subtituted in their room, who, tho they have the least Merit, and are perhaps the most vile and contemptible of Men, are sufficient, however, to serve the purpose of an imaginary Friendship, and can become Favourites in form. These are the Subjects of Humanity in the Great. For These we see them often in concern and pain: in These they easily confide: to These they can with pleasure communicate their Power and Greatness, be open, free, generous, confiding, bountiful; as rejoicing in the Action it-self: having no Intention or Aim beyond it; and their Interest, in respect of Policy, often standing a quite contrary way. But where neither the Love of Mankind, nor the Passion for Favourites prevails, the tyrannical Temper fails not to shew it-self in its proper colours, and to the life, with all the Bitterness, Cruelty, and Mistrust, which belong to that solitary and gloomy State of un-communicative and un-friendly Greatness. Nor needs there any particular Proof from History, or present Time, to second this Remark.
Thus it may appear, how much natural Affection is predominant; how it is inwardly join'd to us, and implanted in our Na​tures; how interwoven with our other Passions; and how essential to that regular Motion and Course of our Affections, on which our Happiness and Self-enjoyment so immediately depend.
And thus we have demonstrated, That as, on one side, To have the natural and good Affections, is to have the chief Means and Power of Self-enjoyment: So, on the other side, to want them, is certain Misery, and Ill.
SECT. II.
We are now to prove, That by having the Self-Passions too Intense or strong, a Creature becomes miserable.
In order to this, we must, according to Method, enumerate those Home-affections, which relate to the private interest or separate OEconomy of the Creature: such as Love of Life;———Resentment of Injury;———Pleasure, or Appetite towards Nourishment and the Means of Generation;———Interest, or Desire of those Conveniences, by which we are well provided for, and maintain'd;———Emulation, or Love of Praise and ​Honour;———Indolence, or Love of Ease and Rest.———These are the Affections which relate to the private System, and constitute whatever we call Interestedness or Self-love.
Now these Affections, if they are moderate, and within certain bounds, are neither injurious to social Life, nor a hindrance to Virtue: but being in an extreme degree, they become Cowardice,——Revengefulness,——Luxury,——Avarice,——Vanity and Ambition,——Sloth;——and, as such, are own'd vitious and ill, with respect to human Society. How they are ill also with respect to the private Person, and are to his own disadvantage as well as that of the Publick, we may consider, as we severally examine them.
If there were any of these Self-passions which for the Good and Happiness of the Creature might be oppos'd to Natural Affection, and allow'd to over-balance it; the desire and Love of Life wou'd have the best Pretence. But it will be found perhaps, that there is no Passion which, by having much allow'd to it, is the occasion of more Disorder and Misery.
​There is nothing more certain, or more universally agreed than this; "That Life may sometimes be even a Misfortune and Misery." To inforce the continuance of it in Creatures reduc'd to such Extremity, is esteem'd the greatest Cruelty. And the Religion forbids that any-one shou'd be his own Reliever; yet if by some fortunate accident, Death offers of it-self, it is embrac'd as highly welcome. And on this account the nearest Friends and Relations often rejoice at the Release of one intirely belov'd; even tho he himself may have been so weak as earnestly to decline Death, and endeavour the utmost Prolongment of his own un-eligible State.
Since Life, therefore, may frequently prove a Misfortune and Misery; and since it naturally becomes so, by being only prolong'd to the Infirmitys of old Age; since there is nothing, withal, more common than to see Life over-valu'd, and purchas'd at such a Cost as it can never justly be thought worth: it follows evidently, that the Passion itself (viz the Love of Life, and Abhorrence or Dread of Death) if beyond a certain degree, and over-balancing in the Temper of any Creature, must lead him directly against his own Interest; make him, ​upon occasion, become the greatest Enemy to himself; and necessitate him to act as such.
But tho it were allow'd the Interest and Good of a Creature, by all Courses and Means whatsoever, in any Circumstances, or at any rate, to preserve Life; yet wou'd it be against his Interest still to have this Passion in a high degree. For it wou'd by this means prove ineffectual, and no-way conducing to its End. Various Instances need not be given. For what is there better known, than that at all times an excessive Fear betrays to danger, instead of saving from it? 'Tis impossible for any-one to act sensibly, and with Presence of Mind, even in his own Preservation and Defense, when he is strongly press'd by such a Passion. On all extraordinary Emergences, 'tis Courage and Resolution saves; whilst Cowardice robs us of the means of Safety, and not only deprives us of our defensive Facultys, but even runs us to the brink of Ruin, and makes us meet that Evil which of it-self wou'd never have invaded us.
But were the Consequences of this Passion less injurious than we have represented; it must be allow'd still that in it-self it can be no other than miserable; if it be Misery to feel Cowardice, and be haunted by those Specters ​and Horrors, which are proper to the Character of one who has a thorow Dread of Death. For 'tis not only when Dangers happen, and Hazards are incurr'd, that this sort of Fear oppresses and distracts. If it in the least prevails, it gives no quarter, so much as at the safest stillest hour of Retreat and Quiet. Every Object suggests Thought enough to employ it. It operates when it is least observ'd by others; and enters at all times into the pleasantest parts of Life; so as to corrupt and poison all Enjoyment, and Content. One may safely aver, that by reason of this Passion alone, many a Life, if towardly and closely view'd, wou'd be found to be thorowly miserable, the attended with all other Circumstances which in appearance render it happy. But when we add to this, the Meannesses, and base Condescensions, occasion'd by such a passionate Concern for living; when we consider how by means of it we are driven to Actions we can never view without Dislike, and forc'd by degrees from our natural Conduct, into still greater Crookednesses and Perplexity; there is no-one, surely, so disingenuous as not to allow, that Life, in this case, becomes a sorry Purchase, and is pass'd with little Freedom or Satisfaction. For how can this be otherwise, whilst every thing which is generous and worthy, even the chief ​Relish, Happiness, and Good of Life, is for Life's sake abandon'd and renounc'd?
And thus it seems evident, "That to have this Affection of Desire and Love of Life, too intense, or beyond a moderate degree, is against the Interest of a Creature, and contrary to his Happiness and Good."
There is another Passion very different from that of Fear, and which in a certain degree is equally preservative to us, and conducing to our Safety. As that is serviceable, in prompting us to shun Danger; so is this, in fortifying us against it, and enabling us to repel Injury, and resist Violence when offer'd. 'Tis true, that according to strict Virtue, and a just Regulation of the Affections in a wise and virtuous Man, such Efforts towards Action amount not to what is justly styl'd Passion or Commotion. A Man of Courage may be cautious without real Fear. And a Man of Temper may resist or punish without Anger. But in ordinary Characters there must necessarily be some Mixture of the real Passions themselves; which however, in the main, are able to allay and temper one another. And thus Anger in a manner becomes necessary. 'Tis by this Passion that one Creature offering Violence to ​another, is deter'd from the Execution; whilst he observes how the Attempt affects his Fellow; and knows by the very Signs which accompany this rising Motion, that if the Injury be carry'd further, it will not pass easily or with impunity. 'Tis this Passion withal, which after Violence and Hostility executed, rouzes a Creature in opposition, and assists him in returning like Hostility and Harm on the Invader. For thus, as Rage and Despair increase, a Creature grows full more terrible; and being urg'd to the greatest extremity, finds a degree of Strength and Boldness unexperienc'd till then, and which had never risen except thro' the height of Provocation. As to this Affection therefore, notwithstanding its immediate Aim be indeed the Ill or Punishment of another, yet it is plainly of the sort of those which tend to the Advantage and Interest of the Self-system, the Animal himself; and is withal in other respects contributing to the Good and Interest of the Species. But there is hardly need we shou'd explain how mischievous and self-destructive Anger is, if it be what we commonly understand by that word: if it be such a Passion as is rash, and violent in the Instant of Provocation; or such as imprints it-self deeply, and causes a settled Revenge, and an eager vindicative Pursuit. No wonder indeed that so much is done in mere Revenge, and under the ​Weight of a deep Resentment, when the Relief and Satisfaction found in that Indulgence is no other than the assuaging of the most torturous Pain, and the alleviating the most weighty and pressing Sensation of Misery. The Pain of this sort being for a-while remov'd or alleviated by the accomplishment of the Desire, in the Ill of another, leaves indeed behind it the perception of a delicious Ease, and an over-flowing of soft and pleasing Sensation. Yet is this, in truth, no better than the Rack it-self. For whoever has experienc'd racking Pains, can tell in what manner a sudden Cessation or Respite is us'd to affect him. From hence are those untoward Delights of Perverseness, Frowardness, and an envenom'd malignant Disposition, acting at its liberty. For this is only a perpetual assuaging of anger perpetually renew'd. In other Characters, the Passion arises not so suddenly, or on slight Causes; but being once mov'd, is not so easily quieted. The dormant Fury, Revenge, being rais'd once, and wrought up to her highest pitch, rests not till she attains her End; and, that attain'd, is easy, and reposes; making our succeeding Relief and Ease so much the more enjoy'd, as our preceding Anguish and incumbent Pain was of long duration, and bitter sense. Certainly if among Lovers, and in the Language of Gallantry, the Success of ardent Love is ​call'd the assuaging of a Pain; this other Success may be far more justly term'd so. However soft or flattering the former Pain may be esteem'd, this latter surely can be no pleasing one: Nor can it be possibly efteem'd other than found and thorow Wretchedness, a grating and disgustful Feeling, without the least mixture of any thing soft, gentle, or agreeable.
'Tis not very necessary to mention the ill effects of this Passion, in respect; of our Minds, or Bodys, our private Condition, or Circumstances of Life. By these Particulars we may grow too tedious. These are of the moral sort of Subjects, join'd commonly with Religion, and treated so rhetorically, and with such inforc'd repetition in publick, as to be apt to raise the Satiety of Mankind. What has been said, may be enough perhaps to make this evident, "That to be subject to such a Passion as we have been mentioning, is, in reality, to be very unhappy:" And, "That the Habit it-self is a Disease of the worst sort; from which Misery is inseparable."
Now as to Luxury, and what the World calls Pleasure: Were it true (as has been prov'd the contrary) that the most consider​able Enjoyments were those merely of the Sense; and were it true, withal, that those Enjoyments of the Sense lay in certain outward things capable of yielding always a due and certain Portion of Pleasure, according to their degree and quality; it wou'd then follow, that the certain way to obtain Happiness, wou'd be to procure largely of these Subjects, to which Happiness and Pleasure were thus infallibly annex'd. But however fashionably we may apply the Notion of good Living, 'twill hardly be found that our inward Facultys are able to keep pace with these outward Supplys of a luxuriant Fortune. And if the natural Disposition and Aptness from within be not concurring; 'twill be in vain that these Subjects are thus multiply'd from abroad, and acquir'd with ever so great facility.
It may be observ'd in those, who by Excess have gain'd a constant Nauseating and Distaste, that they have nevertheless as constant a Craving or Eagerness of Stomach. But the Appetite of this kind is false and unnatural; as is that of Thirst arising from a Fever, or contracted by habitual Debauch. Now the Satisfactions of the natural Appetite, in a plain way, are infinitely beyond those Indulgences of the most refin'd and elegant Luxury. This is often perceiv'd by the Luxurious themselves. It has ​been experienc'd in People bred after the sumptuous way, and us'd never to wait, but to prevent Appetite; that when by any new Turn of Life they came to fall into a more natural Course, or for a while, as on a Journy, or a day of Sport, came accidentally to experience the Sweet of a plain Diet, recommended by due Abstinence and Exercise; they have with freedom own'd, that it was then they receiv'd the highest Satisfaction and Delight which a Table cou'd possibly afford.
On the other side, it has been as often remark'd in Persons accustom'd to an active Life, and healthful Exercise; that having once thorowly experienc'd this plainer and more natural Diet, they have upon a following Change of Life regretted their Loss, and undervalu'd the Pleasures receiv'd from all the Delicacys of Luxury, in comparison with those remember'd Satisfactions of a preceding State. 'Tis plain, that by urging Nature, forcing the Appetite, and inciting Sense, the Keenness of the natural Sensations is lost. And tho thro' Vice or ill Habit the same Subjects of Appetite may, every day, be sought with greater Ardour; they are enjoy'd with less Satisfaction. Tho the Impatience of abstaining be greater; the Pleasure of Indulgence is really less. The Palls or Nauseatings which continually intervene, ​are of the worst and most hateful kind of Sensation. Hardly is there any thing tasted which is wholly free from this ill relish of a surfeited Sense and ruin'd Appetite. So that instead of a constant and flowing Delight afforded in such a State of Life, the very State it-self is in reality a Sickness and Infirmity, a Corruption of Pleasure, and destructive of every natural and agreeable Sensation. So far is it from being true; "That in this licentious Course we enjoy Life best, or are likely to make the most of it."
As to the Consequences of such an Indulgence; how fatal to the Body, by Diseases of many kinds, and to the Mind, by Sottishness and Stupidity; this needs not any explanation.
The Consequences as to Interest are plain enough. Such a State of impotent and unrestrain'd Desire, as it increases our Wants, so it must subject us to a greater Dependence on others. Our private Circumstances, however plentiful or easy they may be, can less easily content us. Ways and Means must be invented to procure what may administer to such an imperious Luxury, as forces us to sacrifice Honour to Fortune, and runs us out into all irregularity and extravagance of Conduct. The Injurys we do our-selves, by Ex​cess and Unforbearance, are then surely apparent, when thro' an Impotence of this sort, and an Impossibility of Restraint, we do what we our-selves declare to be destructive to us. But these are Matters obvious of themselves. And from less than what has been said, 'tis easy to conclude, "That Luxury, Riot, and Debauch, are contrary to real Interest, and to the true Enjoyment of Life."
There is another Luxury superior to the kind we have been mentioning, and which in strictness can scarce be call'd a Self-passion, since the sole End of it is the Advantage and Promotion of the Species. But whereas all other social Affections are join'd only with a mental Pleasure, and founded in mere Kindness and Love; this has more added to it, and is join'd with a Pleasure of Sense. Such Concern and Care has Nature shewn for the Support and Maintenance of the several Species, that by a certain Indigence and kind of Necessity of their Natures, they are made to regard the Propagation of their Kind. Now whether it be the Interest or Good of the Animal to feel this Indigence beyond a natural and ordinary degree; is what we may consider.
Having already said so much concerning natural and unnatural Appetite, there needs less ​to be said on this occasion. If it be allow'd, that to all other Pleasures there is a Measure of Appetite belonging, which cannot possibly be exceeded without prejudice to the Creature, even in his very Capacity of enjoying Pleasure; it will hardly be thought that there is no certain Limit or just Boundary of this other Appetite of the Amorous kind. There are other sorts of ardent Sensations accidentally experienc'd, which we find pleasant and acceptable whilst they are held within a certain degree; but which, as they increase, grow oppressive and intolerable. Laughter provok'd by Titillation, grows an excessive Pain; tho it retains still the same Features of Delight and Pleasure. And tho in the case of that particular kind of Itch which belongs to a Distemper nam'd from that effect, there are some who, far from disliking the Sensation, find it highly acceptable and delightful; yet it will hardly be reputed such among the more refin'd sort, even of those who make Pleasure their chief Study, and highest Good.
Now if there be in every Sensation of mere Pleasure, a certain Pitch or Degree of Ardour, which by being further advanc'd, comes the nearer to mere Rage and Fury; if there be indeed a necessity of stopping somewhere, and determining on some Boundary for the Passion; ​where can we fix our Standard, or how regulate our-selves but with regard to Nature, beyond which there is no Measure or Rule of things? Now Nature may be known from what we see of the natural State of Creatures, and of Man himself, when unprejudic'd by vitious Education.
Where happily any-one is bred to a natural Life, inur'd to honest Industry and Sobriety, and un-accustom'd to any thing immoderate or intemperate; he is found to have his Appetites and Inclinations of this sort at command. Nor are they on this account less able to afford him the Pleasure or Enjoyment of each kind. On the contrary; as they are more sound, healthy, and un-injur'd by Excess and Abuse, they must afford him proportionate Satisfaction. So that were both these Sensations to be experimentally compar'd; that of a virtuous Course which belong'd to one who liv'd a natural and regular Life, and that of a vitious Course which belong'd to one who was relax'd and dissolute; there is no question but Judgment wou'd be given in favour of the former, without regard to Consequences, and only with respect to the very Pleasure of Sense it-self.
​As to the Consequences of this Vice, with respect to the Health and Vigour of the Body; there is no need to mention any thing. The Injury it does the Mind, tho less notic'd, is yet greater. The Hinderance of all Improvement, the wretched Waste of Time, the Effeminacy, Sloth, Supineness, the Disorder and Looseness of a thousand Passions, thro' such a relaxation and enervating of the Mind; are all of them Effects sufficiently apparent, when reflected on.
What the Disadvantages are of this Intemperance, in respect of Interest, Society, and the World; and what the Advantages are of a contrary Sobriety, and Self command, wou'd be to little purpose to mention. 'Tis well known there can be no Slavery greater than what is consequent to the Dominion and Rule of such a Passion. Of all other, it is the least manageable by Favour or Concession, and assumes the most from Privilege and Indulgence. What it costs us in the Modesty and Ingenuity of our Natures, and in the Faith and Honesty of our Characters, is as easily apprehended by anyone who will reflect. And it will from hence appear, "That there is no Passion, which in its Extravagance and Excess more ne​cessarily occasions Disorder and Unhappiness."
Now as to that Passion which is esteem'd peculiarly interesting; as having for its Aim the Possession of Wealth, and what we call a Settlement or Fortune in the World: If the Regard towards this kind be moderate, and in a reasonable degree; if it occasions no passionate Pursuit, nor raises any ardent Desire or Appetite; there is nothing in this Case which is not compatible with Virtue, and even sutable and beneficial to Society. The publick as well as private System is advanc'd by the Industry, which this Affection excites. But if it grows at length into a real Passion; the Injury and Mischief it does the Publick, is not greater than that which it creates to the Person himself. Such a one is in reality a Self-oppressor, and lies heavier on himself than he can ever do on Mankind.
How far a coveting or avaritious Temper is miserable, needs not, surely, be explain'd. Who knows not how small a Portion of worldly Matters is sufficient for a Man's single Use and Convenience; and how much his Occasions and Wants might be contracted and reduc'd, if a just Frugality were study'd, ​and Temperance and a natural Life came once to be pursu'd with half that Application, Industry and Art, which is bestow'd on Sumptuousness and Luxury? Now if Temperance be in reality so advantageous, and the Practice as well as the Consequences of it so pleasing and happy, as has been before express'd; there is little need, on the other side, to mention any thing of the Miserys attending those covetous and eager Desires after things which have no Bounds or Rule; as being out of Nature, beyond which there can be no Limits to Desire. For where shall we once stop, when we are beyond this Boundary? How shall we fix or ascertain a thing wholly unnatural and unreasonable? Or what Method, what Regulation shall we set to mere Imagination, or the Exorbitancy of Fancy, in adding Expence to Expence, or Possession to Possession?
Hence that known Restlessness of covetous and eager Minds, in whatever State or Degree of Fortune they are plac'd; there being no thorow or real Satisfaction, but a kind of Insatiableness belonging to this Condition. For 'tis impossible there shou'd be any real Enjoyment, except in consequence of natural and just Appetite. Nor do we readily call that an Enjoyment of Wealth or of Honour, when thro' Covetousness or Ambition, the Desire is still ​forward, and can never rest satisfy'd with its Gains. But against this Vice of Covetousness, there is enough said continually in the World; and in our common way of speaking, "A covetous, and a miserable Temper, has, in reality, one and the same Signification."
Nor is there less said, abroad, as to the Ills of that other aspiring Temper, which exceeds an honest Emulation, or Love of Praise, and passes the Bounds even of Vanity and Conceit. Such is that Passion which breaks into an enormous Pride and Ambition. Now if we consider once the Ease, Happiness, and Security which attend a modest Disposition and quiet Mind, such as is of easy Self-command, fitted to every Station in Society, and able to sute it-self with any reasonable Circumstances whatever; 'twill, on the first view, present us with the most agreeable and winning Character. Nor will it be found necessary, after this, to call to mind the Excellence and Good of Moderation, or the Mischief and Self-injury of immoderate Desires, and conceited fond Imaginations of personal Advantage, in such things as Titles, Honours, Precedencys, Fame, Glory, or vulgar Astonishment, Admiration, and Applause.
​This too is obvious, that as the Desires of this kind are rais'd, and become impetuous, and out of our command; so the Aversions and Fears of the contrary part, grow proportionably strong and violent, and the Temper accordingly suspicious, jealous, captious, subject to Apprehensions from all Events, and uncapable of bearing the least Repulse or ordinary Disappointment. And hence it may be concluded, "That all Rest and Security as to what is future, and all Peace, Contentedness and Ease as to what is present, is forfeited by the aspiring Passions of this emulous kind; and by having the Appetites towards Glory and outward Appearance thus transporting and beyond command."
There is a certain Temper plac'd often in opposition to those eager and aspiring Aims of which we have been speaking. Not that it really excludes either the Passion of Covetousness or Ambition; but because it hinders their effects, and keeps them from breaking into open Action. 'Tis this Passion, which by soothing the Mind, and softning it into an excessive Love of Rest and Indolence, renders high Attempts impracticable, and represents as insuperable the Difficultys of a ​painful and laborious Course towards Wealth and Honours. Now tho an Inclination to Ease, and a Love of moderate Recess and Rest from Action, be as natural and useful to us as the Inclination we have towards Sleep; yet an excessive Love of Rest, and a contracted Aversion to Action and Imployment, must be a Disease in the Mind equal to that of a Lethargy in the Body.
How necessary Action and Exercise are to the Body, may be judg'd by the difference we find between those Constitutions which are accustom'd, and those which are wholly strangers to it; and by the different Health and Complexion which Labour and due Exercise create, in comparison with that Habit of Body we see consequent to an indulg'd State of Indolence and Rest. Nor is the lazy Habit ruinous to the Body only. The languishing Disease corrupts all the Enjoyments of a vigorous and healthy Sense, and carrys its Infection into the Mind; where it spreads a worse Contagion. For however the Body may for a-while hold out, 'tis impossible that the Mind, in which the Distemper is seated, can escape without an immediate Affliction and Disorder. The Habit begets a Tediousness and Anxiety, which influences the whole Temper, and converts the unnatural Rest into ​an unhappy sort of Activity, ill Humour, and Spleen: of which there has been enough said above, where we consider'd the want of a due Balance in the Affections.
'Tis certain, that as in the Body, when no Labour or natural Exercise is us'd, the Spirits which want their due Imployment, turn against the Constitution, and find work for themselves in a destructive way; so in a Soul, or Mind, unexercis'd, and which languishes for want of proper Action and Employment, the Thoughts and Affections being obstructed in their due Course, and depriv'd of their natural Energy, raise Disquiet, and foment a rancorous Eagerness and tormenting Irritation. The Temper from hence becomes more impotent in Passion, more incapable of real Moderation; and, like prepar'd Fuel, readily takes fire by the least Spark.
As to Interest, how far it is here concern'd; how wretched that State is, in which by this Habit a Man is plac'd, towards all the Circumstances and Affairs of Life, when at any time he is call'd to Action; how subjected he must be to all Inconveniences, wanting to himself, and depriv'd of the Assistance of others; whilst being unfit for all Offices and Dutys of Society, he yet of any other Person ​most needs the help of it, as being least able to assist or support himself; all this is obvious. And thus 'tis evident, "That to have this over-biassing Inclination towards Rest, this slothful, soft, or effeminate Temper, averse to Labour and Imployment, is to have an unavoidable Mischief, and attendant Plague."
Thus have we consider'd the Self-passions; and what the Consequence is of their rising beyond a moderate degree. These Affections, as self-interesting as they are, can often, we see, become contrary to our real Interest. They betray us into most Misfortunes, and into the greatest of Unhappinesses, that of a profligate and abject Character. As they grow imperious and high, they are the occasion that a Creature in proportion becomes mean and low. They are original to that which we call Selfishness, and give rise to that sordid Disposition of which we have already spoken. It appears there can be nothing so miserable in it-self, or so wretched in its Consequence, as to be thus impotent in Temper, thus master'd by Passion, and by means of it, brought under the most servile Subjection to the World.
​'Tis evident withal, that as this Selfishness increases in us, so must a certain Subtlety, and feignedness of Carriage, which naturally accompanys it. And thus the Candour and Ingenuity of our Natures, the Ease and Freedom of our Minds must be forfeited; all Trust and Confidence, in a manner lost; and Suspicions, Jealousys, and Envys multiply'd. A separate End and Interest must be every day more strongly form'd in us; generous Views and Motives laid aside: And the more we are thus sensibly disjoin'd every day from Society and our Fellows: the worse Opinion we shall have of those uniting Passions which bind us in strict Alliance and Amity with others. Upon these Terms we must of course endeavour to silence and suppress our natural and good Affections; since they are such as wou'd carry us to the good of Society, against what we fondly conceive to be our private Good and Interest; as has been shewn.
Now if these selfish Passions, besides what other Ill they are the occasion of, are withal the certain means of losing us our natural Affection; then (by what has been prov'd before) 'tis evident, "That they must be the certain means of losing us the chief Enjoyment of Life, and raising in us those horrid ​and unnatural Passions, and that Savageness of Temper, which makes the greatest of Miserys, and the most wretched State of Life:" as remains for us to explain.
SECT. III.
The Passions therefore, which, in the last place, we are to examine, are those which lead neither to a publick nor a private Good; and are neither of any advantage to the Species in general, or the Creature in particular. These, in opposition to the social and natural, we call the unnatural Affections.
Of this kind is that unnatural and inhuman Delight in beholding Torments, and in viewing Distress, Calamity, Blood, Massacre and Destruction, with a peculiar Joy and Pleasure. This has been the reigning Passion of many Tyrants, and barbarous Nations; and belongs, in some degree, to such Tempers as have thrown off that Courteousness of Behaviour, which retains in us a just Reverence of Mankind, and prevents the Growth of Harshness and Brutality. This Passion enters not where Civility or affable Manners have the least place. Such is the Nature of what we call good Breeding, that in the midst of many ​other Corruptions, it admits not of Inhumanity, or savage Pleasure. To see the Sufferance of an Enemy with cruel Delight, may proceed from the height of Anger, Revenge, Fear, and other extended Self-passions: But to delight in the Torture and Pain of other Creatures indifferently, Natives or Foreigners, of our own or of another Species, Kindred or no Kindred, known or unknown; to feed, as it were, on Death, and be entertain'd with dying Agonys; this has nothing in it accountable in the way of Self-interest or private Good above-mention'd, but is wholly and absolutely unnatural, as it is horrid and miserable.
There is another Affection nearly related to this, which is a gay and frolicksome Delight in what is injurious to others; a sort of wanton Mischievousness, and Pleasure in what is destructive; a Passion which, instead of being restrain'd, is usually encourag'd in Children: so that 'tis indeed no wonder if the Effects of it are very unfortunately felt in the World. For 'twill be hard, perhaps, for any-one to give a reason why that Temper which was us'd to delight in Disorder and Ravage, when in a Nursery; shou'd not afterwards find delight in other Disturbances, and be the occasion of equal Mischief in Familys, amongst Friends, ​and in the Publick it-self. But of this Passion there is not any foundation in Nature; as has been explaind.
Malice, Malignity, or Ill-Will, such as is grounded on no Self-consideration, and where there is no Subject of Anger or Jealousy, nor any thing to provoke or cause such a Desire of doing ill to another; this also is of that kind of Passion.
Envy too, when it is such as arises from the Prosperity or Happiness of another Creature no ways interfering with ours, is of the same kind of Passion.
There is also among these, a sort of Hatred of Mankind and Society; a Passion which has been known perfectly reigning in some Men, and has had a peculiar Name given to it. A large share of this belongs to those who have long indulg'd themselves in a habitual Moroseness, or who by force of ill Nature, and ill Breeding, have contracted such a Reverse of Affability, and civil Manners, that to see or meet a Stranger is offensive. The very Aspect of Mankind is a disturbance to 'em, and they are sure always to hate at first sight. The Distemper of this kind is sometimes found to be in a manner National; but peculiar to the ​more savage Nations, and a plain Characteristick of unciviliz'd Manners, and Barbarity. This is the immediate Opposite to that noble Affection, which in antient Language, was term'd Hospitality, viz. extensive Love of Mankind, and Relief of Strangers.
We may add likewise to the number of the unnatural Passions, all those which are rais'd from Superstition (as before-mention'd) and from the Customs of barbarous Countrys: All which are too horrid and odious in themselves, to need any proof of their being miserable.
There might be other Passions nam'd, such as unnatural Lusts, in foreign Kinds or Species, with other Perversions of the amorous Desire within our own. But as to these Depravitys of Appetite, we need add nothing here; after what has been already said, on the Subject of the more natural Passion.
Such as these are the only Affections or Passions we can striclly call unnatural, ill, and of no tendency so much as to any separate or private Good. Others indeed there are which have this tendency, but are so exorbitant and out of measure, so beyond the common Bent ​of any ordinary Self-passion, and so utterly contrary and abhorrent to all social and natural Affection, that they are generally call'd, and may be justly esteem'd unnatural and monstrous.
Among these may be reckon'd such an enormous Pride or Ambition, such an Arrogance and Tyranny, as wou'd willingly leave nothing eminent, nothing free, nothing prosperous in the World: such an Anger as wou'd sacrifice every thing to it-self: such a Revenge as is never to be extinguish'd, nor ever satisfy'd without the greatest Crueltys: such an Inveteracy and Rancour as seeks, as it were, occasion to exert it-self; and lays hold of the least Subject, so as often to make the weight of its Malevolence fall even upon such as are mere Objects of Pity and Compassion.
Treachery and Ingratitude are in strictness mere negative Vices; and in themselves, no real Passions; having neither Aversion or Inclination belonging to them; but are deriv'd from the Defect, Unsoundness, or Corruption of the Affections in general. But when these Vices become remarkable in a Character, and arise in a manner from Inclination and Choice; when they are so forward and ac​tive, as to appear of their own accord, without any pressing occasion; 'tis apparent they borrow something of the mere unnatural Passions, and are deriv'd from Malice, Envy, and Inveteracy; as explain'd above.
It may be objected here, that these Passions, unnatural as they are, carry still a sort of Pleasure with them; and that however barbarous a Pleasure it be, yet still it is a Pleasure and Satisfaction which is found in Pride, or Tyranny, Revenge, Malice, or Cruelty exerted. Now if it be possible in Nature, that any-one can feel a barbarous or malicious Joy, otherwise than in consequence of mere Anguish and Torment, then may we perhaps allow this kind of Satisfaction to be call'd Pleasure or Delight. But the Case is evidently contrary. To love, and to be kind; to have social or natural Affection, Complacency and Good-will, is to feel immediate Satisfaction and genuine Content. 'Tis in it-self original Joy, depending on no preceding Pain or Uneasiness; and producing nothing beside Satisfaction merely. On the other side, Animosity, Hatred, and Bitterness, is original Misery and Torment, producing no other Pleasure or Satisfaction, than as the unnatural Desire is for the instant satisfy'd by something which appeases it. How strong so​ever this Pleasure, therefore, may appear; it only the more implies the Misery of that State which produces it. For as the cruellest bodily Pains do by intervals of Assuagement, produce (as has been shewn) the highest bodily Pleasure; so the fiercest and most raging Torments of the Mind, do, by certain Moments of Relief, afford the greatest of mental Enjoyments to those who know little of the truer kind.
The Men of gentlest Dispositions, and best of Tempers, have at some time or other been sufficiently acquainted with those Disturbances, which, at ill hours, even small occasions are apt to raise. From these slender Experiences of Harshness and Ill-humour, they fully know and will confess the ill Moments which are pass'd, when the Temper is ever so little gall'd or fretted. How must it fare, therefore, with those who hardly know any better hours in Life; and who, for the greatest part of it, are agitated by a thorow active Spleen, a close and settled Malignity, and Rancour? How lively must be the Sense of every thwarting and controuling Accident? How great must be the Shocks of Disappointment, the Stings of Affront, and the Agonys of a working Antipathy, against the multiply'd Objects of Offence? Nor can it be wonder'd at, if to Persons thus agitated and ​oppress'd, it seems a high Delight to appease and allay for the while those furious and rough Motions, by an Indulgence of their Passion in Mischief and Revenge.
Now as to the Consequences of this unnatural State, in respect of Interest, and the common Circumstances of Life; upon what Terms a Person who has in this manner lost all which we call Nature, can be suppos'd to stand, in respect of the Society of Mankind; how he feels himself in it; what Sense he has of his own Disposition towards others, and of the mutual Disposition of others towards himself; this is easily conceiv'd.
What Injoyment or Rest is there for one, who is not conscious of the merited Affection or Love, but, on the contrary of the Ill-will and Hatred of every human Soul? What ground must this afford for Horror and Despair? What foundation of Fear, and continual Apprehension from Mankind, and from superior Powers? How thorow and deep must be that Melancholy, which being once mov'd, has nothing soft or pleasing from the side of Friendship, to allay or divert it? Wherever such a Creature turns himself; which-ever way he casts his Eye; every thing around must appear ghastly and horrid; every thing hostile, and, as it were, bent ​against a private and single Being, who is thus divided from every thing, and at defiance and war with the rest of Nature.
'Tis thus, at last, that a Mind becomes a Wilderness; where the is laid waste, every thing fair and goodly remov'd, and nothing extant beside what is savage and deform'd. Now if Banishment from one's Country, Removal to a foreign Place, or any thing which looks like Solitude or Desertion, be so heavy to endure; what must it be to feel this inward Banishment, this real Estrangement from human Commerce; and to be after this manner in a Desart, and in the worriedest of Solitudes, even when in the midst of Society? What must it be to live in this Disagreement, with everything, this Irreconcilableness and Opposition to the Order and Government of the Universe?
Hence it appears, That the greatest of Miserys accompanys that State which is consequent to the Loss of natural Affection; and That to have those horrid, monstrous, and unnatural Affections, is to be miserable in the highest degree.
CONCLUSION.
Thus have we endeavour'd to prove what was propos'd in the beginning. And since in the common and known Sense of Vice and Illness, no-one can be vitious or ill, except either,
1. By the Deficiency or Weakness of natural Affections;
Or, 2. by the Violence of the selfish;
Or, 3. by such as are plainly unnatural:
It must follow, that if each of these are pernicious and destructive to the Creature, insomuch that his compleatest State of Misery is made from hence; To be wicked or vitious, is to be miserable and unhappy.
And since every vitious Action must in proportion, more or less, help towards this Mischief, and Self-ill; it must follow, That every vitious action must be self-injurious and ill.
On the other side; the Happiness and Good of Virtue has been prov'd from the contrary Effect of other Affections, such as are according ​to Nature, and the OEconomy of the Species or Kind. We have cast up all those Particulars, from whence (as by way of Addition and Subtraction) the main Sum or general Account of Happiness, is either augmented or diminish'd. And if there be no Article exceptionable in this Scheme of Moral Arithmetick; the Subject treated may be said to have an Evidence as great as that which is found in Numbers, or Mathematicks. For let us carry Scepticism ever so far, let us doubt, if we can, of every thing about us; we cannot doubt of what passes within ourselves. Our Passions and Affections are known to us. They are certain, whatever the Objects may be, on which they are employ'd. Nor is it of any concern to our Argument, how these exterior Objects stand; whether they are Realitys, or mere Illusions; whether we wake or dream. For ill Dreams will be equally disturbing. And a good Dream (if Life be nothing else) will be easily and happily pass'd. In this Dream of Life, therefore, our Demonstrations have the same force; our Balance and OEconomy hold good, and our Obligation to Virtue is in every respect the same.
Upon the whole: There is not, I presume, the least degree of Certainty wanting, in what has been said concerning the Preferableness of the mental Pleasures to the sensual; and even of the ​sensual, accompany'd with Good Affection, and under a temperate and right use, to those which are no ways restrain'd, nor supported by any thing social or affectionate.
Nor is there less Evidence in what has been said, of the united Structure and Fabrick of the Mind, and of those Passions which constitute the Temper, or Soul; and on which its Happiness or Misery so immediately depend. It has been shown, That in this Constitution, the impairing of any one Part must instantly tend to the disorder and ruin of other Parts, and of the Whole it-self; thro' the necessary Connexion and Balance of the Affections: That those very Passions thro' which Men are vitious, are of themselves a Torment and Disease; and that whatsoever is done which is knowingly ill, must be of ill Consciousness; and in proportion, as the Act is ill, must impair and corrupt social Enjoyment, and destroy both the Capacity and kind Affection, and the Consciousness of meriting any such. So that neither can we participate thus in Joy or Happiness with others, or receive Satisfaction from the mutual Kindness or imaging'd Love of others: on which, however, the greatest of all our Pleasures are founded.
If thus be the Case of moral Delinquency; and if the State which is consequent to this ​Defection from nature, be of all other the most horrid, oppressive, and miserable; 'twill appear, "That to yield or consent to any thing ill or immoral, is a Breach of Interest, and leads to the greatest Ills:" and, "That on the other side, Every thing which is an Improvement of Virtue, or an Establishment of right Affection and Integrity, is an Advancement of Interest, and leads to the greatest and most solid Happihess and Enjoyment."
Thus the Wisdom of what rules, and is first and chief in Nature, has made it to be according to the private Interest and Good of every-one, to work towards the general Good; which if a Creature ceases to promote, he is actually so far wanting to himself, and ceases to promote his own Happiness and Welfare. He is, on this account, directly his own Enemy: Nor can he any otherwise be good or useful to himself, than as he continues good to Society, and to that Whole of which he is himself a Part. So that Virtue, which of all Excellencys and Beautys is the chief, and most amiable; that which is the Prop and Ornament of human Affairs; which upholds Communitys, maintains Union, Friendship, and Correspondence amongst Men; that by which Countrys, as well as private Familys, flourish and are happy; and for want of which, every-thing ​comely, conspicuous, great and worthy, must perish, and go to ruin; that single Quality, thus beneficial to all Society, and to Mankind in general, is found equally a Happiness and Good to each Creature in particular; and is that by which alone Man can be happy, and without which he must be miserable.
And, thus, Virtue is the Good, and Vice the Ill of every-one.
* ↑ VOL. I. p. 90, &c. 116, 117, 118, 119, 120.
* ↑ Infra, p. 131, 307, 8, 9, &c. And VOL. III. ,. 216, 217, &c.
* ↑ VOL III. p. 30.
* ↑ VOL. I. p. 32, 33, &c. And VOL. III. p. 115, 116, 124—128.
* ↑ Supra, p. 98, 93, &c.
* ↑ Supra, p. 92, 93. And Infra, p. 307, 8, 9, &c. And VOL. III. p. 216, 17, &c.
* ↑ VOL. III. pag. 153, 154, in the Notes.