GOOD AND EVIL.

If the conjecture of a learned critic Casaubon. ⁴⁹ be well grounded, Xenophanes was of opinion that there is in nature more good than evil. Many things might be observed upon the question, whether Euripides, who held the same opinion, is rather to be believed than Pliny, and so many other great men. who have maintained that the evils of human life surpass the good things of it, Let us consider this subject a little, and say in the first place that if the dispute be only about vicious evil, it will soon be decided in

favour of Pliny; for where is a man who dares maintain that the virtuous actions, compared with the crimes of mankind, are in proportion as ten to ten thousand? In the second place, if the dispute be about painful evil, Euripides will have several adherents. As to the second point, I shall refer it to the following remark, and also offer something there on the first.

How detestable soever the opinion of two principles hath constantly appeared to all Christians, they nevertheless acknowledged a subaltern principle of moral evil. Divines teach us that a great number of angels having sinned, made a party in the universe against God. For brevity’s sake this party is denoted by the name of devil, and he is acknowledged as the cause of the fall of the first man, and as the perpetual tempter and seducer of mankind. The devil having declared war against God from the moment of his fall, hath always continued in his rebellion, and there has never been any peace or truce. He continually applies himself to usurp the rights of his Creator, and seduces his subjects, in order to make them rebels and engage them to serve under his banner against their common master. He succeeded in his first hostilities with regard to man; in the Garden of Eden he attacked the mother of all living, and vanquished her; and immediately after he attacked the first man, and defeated him. Thus he became master of mankind. God did not abandon this prey to him, but delivered them out of their bondage, and recovered them out of that state of reprobation by virtue of the satisfaction which the second person of the Trinity undertook to pay to his justice. This second person engaged to become man, and to act as a mediator between God and mankind, and as a Redeemer of Adam and his posterity. He took upon him to combat the devil's party; so that he was the head of God’s party against the devil, who was the head of the rebellious creatures. The design was not to

conquer all the posterity of Adam; for they were all by birth, in the power of the devil, but to preserve, or recover the country which had been conquered. The design of Jesus Christ, the Mediator, and Son of God, was to recover it; that of the devil was to hold it. The victory of the Mediator consisted in leading men into the paths of truth and virtue; that of the devil in seducing them into the road of error and vice. So that in order to know whether moral good equals moral evil among men, we need only compare the victories of the devil with those of Jesus Christ. Now in history we find but very few triumphs of Jesus Christ: “Apparent rari nantes in gurgite vasto;” and we every where meet with the triumphs of the devil. The war between these two parties is a continual, or almost continual train of successes on the devil’s side; and if the rebellious party made annals of their exploits, there is not one day in the year but it would be there marked with some ample subject for bonfires, songs of triumph, and such other signs of victory. The annalist would have no occasion for hyperboles and flattery to shew the superiority of that faction. Sacred history, in fact, tells us of but one good man in Adam’s family, and reduces to one good man the family of that good man, and so on in the other generations to Noah, in whose family we find three sons whom God saved from the deluge with their father, mother, and wives. Thus at the end of sixteen hundred and fifty-six years, all mankind, except one family of eight persons, were so deeply engaged in the interest of the devil, that the enormity of their crimes rendered it necessary to extirpate them. The deluge, that terrible monument of the justice of God, is a lofty monument of the devil’s victories; and so much the more as that general punishment did not deprive him of his prey; the souls of those who perished in the deluge went to hell. This is the devil’s aim and intention, and therefore his triumph. Error and vice soon after the deluge, lifted up their heads in Noah's family; his descendants plunged themselves into idolatry, and all manner of debaucheries; that is to say, the devil preserved his usurped power over them. There was no more than a handful of people confined in Judæa, that escaped him with respect to orthodoxy; nay, it must be owned, that among that people the success of the good party was very variable with respect to orthodoxy, since that very nation suffered itself to be seduced to idolatry from time to time; insomuch, that their conduct was a continued shifting between true and false worship. But as for vice it never suffered a real interregnum amongst the Jews, any more than in other countries: and consequently the devil continually kept a footing in the small conquests which the good party recovered.

There doubtless happened a happy revolution at the birth of Jesus Christ; his miracles, his gospel, and his apostles, made glorious conquests. Then the empire of the devil received a very great check, and a considerable part of the earth was wrested out of his hands; but he was not so driven out that he did not preserve several correspondents, and a great many creatures there. He maintained himself by the abominable heresies which he sowed; vices were never entirely driven out of it, and soon after entered into it again, as it were, in triumph. Errors, schisms, disputes, and cabals, introduced themselves, together with the fatal train of infamous passions, which generally accompany them. The heresies, superstitions, violences, frauds, extortions, and impurities, which have appeared all over the Christian world for several ages, are things which I should only be able to describe imperfectly, though I were master of more eloquence than Cicero. What Virgil said is true in the most literal sense.

Non, mihi si linguae centum sint, oraque centum.
Ferrea vox, omnes scelerum comprendere formas, possim.
Virgil. Æneid. lib. vi, ver. 625.

Had I a hundred mouths, a hundred tongues,
And throats of brass, inspired with iron lungs,
I could not half those horrid crimes repeat.
Dryden.

Thus whilst the devil reigned uninterrupted without the limits of Christendom, he so successfully disputed the ground in Christendom, that the progress of his arms was beyond comparison greater than that of truth and virtue. A stop was put to his progress, and he was forced to give ground in the sixteenth century; but what he lost on one side he regained on the other; and what he does not effect by lies, he brings to pass by the corruption of manners. There is no asylum, no fortress where he does not make men feel the effects of his power in this respect. Leave the world, shut yourself up in a monastery, he will follow you, he will bring into it intrigues, envy, factions, or if he can do no worse, lewdness; this last resource is almost infallible; “Diaboli virtus in lumbis est, The power of the devil lies in the loins, saith St Jerome.” Montaigue, Essais, livr. iii, chap, v, pag. m. 134. ⁵⁰ A modern author affirms, that in those places where popery is predominant, there is no true piety. He spares the protestants a little more; but yet he says that corruption runs very high amongst them: You may say if you please, that his descriptions are overstrained; but it will nevertheless be true, that there prevails among Christians a deplorable corruption of manners.

These two things also require our reflection. War reigns at least for as long a time as peace amongst the Christians. I confine myself to Christendom, because it is unnecessary for me to speak of the infidel nations; they are continually in the service of the devil, and subject to his empire; and the usurper reigns there unmolested. It is undeniable that war is the devil’s time, or if I may so express myself, his

turn of reigning; for without mentioning the violences and debaucheries committed in it, every soldier is obliged to profess that he will suffer no injuries; he must either quit the employment, or revenge an affront: but this is manifestly denying our allegiance to the empire of Jesus Christ and desert - ing to the enemy. Times of peace do not seem so favourable to the empire of the devil, and yet they are very much so: for as people grow rich, they grow more voluptuous, and plunge themselves deeper in luxury and voluptuousness.

Nunc patimur longæ pads mala, sævior armis
Luxuria incubuit, victumque ulciscitur orbem.
Juvenal, Sat. vi, ver. 291.

We suffer all th' invet'rate ills of peace,
And wasteful riot; whose destructive charms
Revenge the vanquish'd world of our victorious arms.
Dryden.

My remaining remark is more decisive. The Papists and Protestants agree, that very few people escape damnation. They allow none to be saved only the orthodox who lead good lives, and repent of their sins at the point of death. They do not indeed deny but that habitual sinners may be saved upon a sincere death-bed repentance, but withal they maintain, that nothing is more rare than such a repentance. According to which it is plain, that for one man saved, there are perhaps a million damned. Now the war which the devil wages with God, is about the conquest of souls; and therefore it is certain that the victory is on the devil's side. He gains all the damned, and loses only the very few souls who were predestinated to be saved. He is therefore “victor prsælio, & victor bello—victorious in the battle, and victorious in the war." For having inspired men with an infinitely greater number of wicked actions, than Jesus Christ has inspired them with good ones, he has been superior in the battle; and

as he makes almost all men die in impenitence, he keeps all he had conquered. Death puts an end to the war. Christ doth not combat in order to release the dead from the power of the devil. We must therefore say that this war ends in the devil’s advantage, what he claimed is yielded and abandoned to him. I know he will suffer eternal punishment for his victories; but this, far from obscuring my position, that moral evil is greater than moral good, serves to make it more indisputable: for the devils amidst the flames will eternally curse the name of God. There will therefore be more creatures who will hate, than who will love God. Besides, in this remark, the question is properly about the state of things in this life.

I have an Italian book intituled Monarchia del nostro Signor Giesu Christo, printed at Venice 1573, and written by Giovann’ Antonio Panthera Parentino. The author of this book gives the history of the battles of Lucifer with Jesus Christ, from the beginning of the world down to the times of Mahometanism. He passes slightly over some of the attempts in which Lucifer succeeded; but gives a full account of every attempt in which he failed; such as the design of destroying the posterity of Abraham in Egypt, his enterprises against David, against the Maccabees, against Jesus Christ, &c. This is like a man who seeing people gaming, should only take an account of the losses; it would appear by such a computation that he who had won the most had lost all his money. This is an image of the conduct of several historians; their nation appears always victorious, for they relate only those events which were prosperous.

Observe, that all I have been saying is every day preached, and that without any design of derogating from the almighty power of Jesus Christ. No more is meant by it than (what is also my opinion) that man is naturally so prone to evil, that except the

small number of the elect, all other men live and die in the service of the evil spirit, and render the paternal love of God to remedy their wickedness, or bring them to repentance, of no effect.

Notwithstanding the opinion of Casaubon, the probability is that Xenophanes believed that the sweets of life do not equal the bitter portions which it obliges us to swallow. Those who bold the contrary opinion, chiefly insist upon a parallel betwixt diseases and health. There are very few persons, of any age, but can reckon up, incomparably more days of health than of sickness; and there are a great many, who, in the space of twenty years, have not been afflicted with diseases that will take up in all fifteen days. But this comparison is fallacious; for health considered alone is more an indolence than a sense of pleasure; it is rather a bare exemption from evil, than a good, whilst sickness is worse than a privation of pleasure; it is a positive state which plunges the mind into a sense of suffering, and loads the patient with pain. Somebody judiciously says, that when health is alone, it is a good which is not much perceived, and sometimes only serves to make us the more ardently desire all the other pleasures which we cannot have. Let us make use of a comparison taken from the schoolmen: they say that rare, that is, porous bodies contain but very little matter under a great extent; and that dense bodies contain a great quantity of matter in a small compass. According to this principle we must say that there is more matter in three feet of water than in two thousand five hundred feet of air; which is a lively image of sickness and health. Sickness resembles the dense bodies, and health the rare. Health lasts many years successively, and yet contains but a small portion of happiness. Sickness continues but a few days, and yet comprehends a vast load of misery. If we had a scale adapted to weigh both a

disease of fifteen days, and the health of fifteen years, we should observe the same difference that we find in the balance betwixt a bag of feathers and a piece of lead. In one scale we should see a body which takes up a great deal of room, and in the other, one which lies in a very small compass; and yet one of them is not heavier than the other. Let us then beware of the illusion which the extension of health may draw us into, when it is paralleled with sickness.

But you will say that health is considerable, not only because it exempts us from a very great evil, but also by the liberty it affords us, to enjoy a thousand lively and very sensible pleasures. I grant all this, but it ought to be farther considered, that there being two sorts of evils to which we are subject, it only secures us from one, and leaves us wholly exposed to the other. We are subject to pain and sorrow, two such terrible afflictions, that it is not to be decided which is more dreadful. The most vigorous health doth not secure us from grief. For grief flows in upon us through a thousand channels, and is of the nature of dense bodies; it comprises a great deal of matter in a very small compass; evil is heaped up, crowded and pressed close in it. One hour’s grief contains more evil, than there is good in six or seven pleasant days. The other day I was told of a man who killed himself, after an anxious melancholy of three or four weeks. Every night he had laid his sword under his bolster, in hopes that he should have courage enough to end his life, when darkness should increase his grief; but his resolution failed for several nights successively. At last, not being able to resist his uneasiness, he cut the veins of his arm. I affirm, that all the pleasures which this man had enjoyed in thirty years, would not equal the evils which tormented him the last month of his life, if both were weighed in the

balance. Look back to my parallel of dense and rare bodies, and remember this, that the good things of this life are a less good, than the evil things are an evil. Evils are generally more pure and unmixt than good things; the lively sense of pleasure doth not continue long, it immediately grows flat and dull, and is followed with disgust.

The best of things beyond their measure cloy;
Sleep's balmy blessing, love's endearing joy;
The feast, the dance . . . . .
Pope’s Homer, Iliad. lib. xiii. ver. 635.

What appeared to us a great good when we did not possess it, scarcely affects us in the enjoyment; so that we acquire, with a thousand troubles, and a thousand uneasinesses, what we possess with no more than a moderate pleasure; and very often the fear of losing the good we enjoy, surpasses all the pleasures of the fruition of it.

There has been pointed out to me a very fine passage of Pliny, and a very proper one to confirm the thoughts which I have just now offered. “Si verum facere judicium volumus, ac repudiata omni fortunæ ambitione decernere, mortalium nemo est felix. Abunde igitur, atque indulgenter fortuna decidit cum eo, qui jure dici non infelix potest. Quippe ut alia non sint, certe, ne lassescat fortuna, metus est: quo semel recepto, solida felicitas non est. Quid quod nemo mortalium omnibus horis sapit? utinamque falsum hoc, et non a vate dictum quam plurimi judicent! Vana mortalitas, et ad circumscribendum seipsam ingeniosa, computat more Thraciæ gentis, quæ calculos colore distinctes, pro experimento cujusque diei in urnam condit, ac supremo die separatos dinumerat, atque ita de quoque pronunciat. Quid quod iste calculi candore illo laudatus dies, originem mali habuit? Quam multos accepta afflixere imperia; quam multos bona perdidere, et ultimis mersere

suppliciis? ista nimirum bona, si cui inter ilia hora in gaudio suit. Ita est profecto, alius de alio judicat dies, et tamen supremus de omnibus: ideoque nullis credendum est. Quid quod bona malis paria non sunt, etiam pari numero: nec lætitia ulla minimo mœrore pensanda? Heu vana et imprudens diligentia! numerus dierum comparator: ubi quæritur pondus. If we would make a true judgment of things, without being biassed by the allurements of fortune, we must determine that no man is happy. Fortune is bounteous and indulgent to the man who may justly be said not to be happy. For as to those who are called happy, their condition is always attended with a fear lest fortune should change and forsake them; and where this fear takes place, there can be no solid happiness. What shall we say of this observation, that no man is wise at all times? I wish this was false, and that a great many people did not justly account it an oracle. Man is vain, and ingenious in circumscribing himself, and computes his happiness after the manner of the Thracians, who every day put into an urn either a black or a white pebble, to denote the good or bad fortune of that day: at last they separate these pebbles, and upon comparing the two numbers together, they formed their judgment of the whole of their lives. Shall that very day which is distinguished by the white pebble give rise to evil? How many have been afflicted by the power which they have accepted? How many undone and reduced to the greatest misery by good things, and the same good things which were the cause of their former rejoicing. Thus it actually happens, one day judges of another, and the last judges of all the rest; so that no particular day can be relied upon. What shall we say of this observation, that the good things of this life are not equal to the evil, not even in number? And that the least affliction is not to be compensated by any joy? Alas! how vain and imprudently diligent in man, who compares his fortunate with his unfortunate days by their number, when the question is concerning the weight and nature of them.” I have found another passage which gives a lively description of the ill side of felicities, I speak of those common to all meh, I mean corporeal pleasures. “Quid autem de corporis voluptatibus loquar, quarum appetentia quidem plena est anxietatis, satietas vero pœ- nitentisa? Quantos illæ morbos, quàm intolerabileis dolores, quasi quendam fructum nequitiæ fruentium soient referre corporibus!...Tristeis vero esse voluptatum exitus, quisquis reminisci libidinum suarum volet, intelliget. . . . .

Habet omnis hoc voluptas,
Stimulis agit fruenteis,
Apinmque par volantum,
Ubi grata mella fudit,
Fugit, et nimis tenaci
Ferit icta corda morsu.
Boetius, de Consol. Philosoph. lib. iii.

What need I speak of bodily pleasures, the pursuit of which is full of anxiety, and the enjoy nient followed by disgust and repentance. How great diseases, how intolerable pains do they bring upon the body, as the fruits of wickedness . . . . But that the issue of pleasures is disagreeable and painful, whoever reflects on his own lusts, must easily understand.” ....

If pleasures e’er invade the heart
They stimulate through every part:
But when th’ enjoyer's happy made,
And when their grateful honey’s shed,
Their sweet allurememts soon decay,
They leave a sting and fly away.

Thus Boëtius introduces philosophy addressing him. It appears by this discourse, that if anxiety precede the enjoyment of pleasures, disgust and

repentance follow close after it, and a vast number of authors observe this unhappy connexion of pleasure and uneasiness.

Let us also observe that we are not only in fear of losing what we possess, but also vexed to see other people equal or surpass us, and that others will soon be able to come up to us, and afterwards get before us. Observe, that in order to prove that good is not so perfectly good, as evil is evil, I have made no use of this argument, that it rarely happens that a good use is made of the favours of fortune, it rarely happens that they do not lead us to great miseries, and become not a grace, but a snare; I say, I have omitted this reason, because I do not here consider the causes and occasions off good and evil, but good and evil in themselves. For the rest, it would be departing from the state of the question to say, that man afflicts himself without cause. For it is not our business here to know whether his grief be reasonable, or the effect of his weakness; but the question is, to know whether he grieves. This very thing, that a man vexes himself without reason, and makes himself unhappy by his own fault, is an evil.

We must own with Seneca, considering the multitude of good things which nature has. imparted to us, and the inexhaustible industry with which the wit of man diversifies pleasures, and discovers the sources of them; that God, not contented to provide barely for our necessities, hath besides furnished us wherewithal to live deliciously.

All that Seneca saith on this score in his book de Beneficiis is very true; but, on the other side, doth not Pliny assure us that nature makes us buy her presents at the price of so many sufferings, that it is dubious whether she deserves most, the name of a parent, or of a step-mother? To reconcile these two authors, we ought to consider what the scripture teaches us concerning the æconomy of God, as a

father, and as judge of mankind. Those two relations require that man should feel good and evil; but the question is, whether evil exceeds good? and upon this head I am apt to think that we can go no farther than opinions and conjectures. Several people say, that most persons, when a little advanced in years, grow like la Mothe le Vayer, who would have refused to pass again through the same good and evil which he had felt in his life. If it be so, we must believe that, upon the whole, every one finds the pleasures which he has enjoyed, have been unequal to the uneasinesses and pains with which he has been afflicted. I do not allege that no body is content with his condition, for this is no proof that every man believes himself less happy than unhappy. These verses of Horace contain a most certain fact:

Qui fit, Maecenas, ut nemo, quam sibi sortem
Seu ratio dederit, seu sors objecerit, illá
Contenus vivat? laudet diversa sequentes?
Horat. lib. i. initio Sat. 1.

Whence comes, my Lord, this general discontent?
Why do all loath the state that chance hath sent,
Or their own choice procur'd? but fondly bless
Their neighbour's lots, and praise what they possess?
Creech.

Four inconveniences mixed with twenty conveniences would make a man wish for another condition; I mean such a one as is not charged with any inconvenience, or at least where he should find but one or two of them to forty conveniences. On the other side, it must not be alleged against me, what Lactantius saith, that men are so nice that they complain of the least evil, as if it absorbed all the good things they have enjoyed. It is to no purpose to consider here what the absolute quantity of good and evil dispensed to man may be in itself; we are only to consider their relative quality; or, to express myself more clearly,

we ought to consider nothing but the feeling state of the mind. A very great good in itself, which raises but a very moderate pleasure, ought not to pass for more than a moderate good; but an evil, though very little in itself, which gives an uneasiness, grief, or pain, that is insupportable, ought to pass for a very great evil; so that to denote a man less happy than unhappy, it is sufficient that he is afflicted with three evils for thirty felicities which he enjoys, if those three evils, as little in themselves as you please, give him more disturbance than the thirty felicities, as great in their own nature as you please, afford him pleasure. The government of a province is in itself a much greater good than a ribbon; and yet if a duke or a peer should feel more joy in receiving a ribbon from his mistress, than in obtaining the government of a province from his king, I affirm that a ribbon would be a greater good to him than the authority of a governor. For the same reason, it would be a greater evil for him to be deprived of this ribbon than to be deprived of his post, if he should be more grieved at the loss of the ribbon than at that of his post. On this account no man is able to judge aright, either of the misery or happiness of his neighbour. We do not know what another feels, we only know the outward causes of evil and good; now these causes are not always proportioned to their effects: those which seem to us very small, frequently produce a lively sense; and those which appear to us great, very often occasion but a faint one. The following words of Tacitus are really an oracle; Tacitus, Annal, lib. vi. cap. 22. ⁵¹ “Neque mala vel bona quæ vulgus putet: multos qui conflictari adversis videantur, beatos, ac plerosque quamquam magnas per opes miserrimos, si illi gravem fortunam constanter tolerent, hi prospéra inconsultè utantur.—Neither are these things good or evil which the vulgar deem
to be such. Many who struggle with adversities are happy, if they bear their afflictions with resolution; and most of those who abound with riches are very miserable, if they make an imprudent use of their prosperity.” We must only extend the signification of the word inconsultè, so that it may comprehend the disposition of the temper which makes us possess the favours of fortune with uneasiness, or without joy.

All this shows that none can determine positively whether his neighbour's destiny be drawn out of Homer’s two vessels, in such a manner that the dose of good be as large, or perhaps larger, than that of evil. All that can be said with full certainty is, that no man’s fate was ever drawn wholly out of the good vessel. I shall cite an excellent passage out of Pausanias on this subject; it is the reflection which he made upon hearing that one Aglaus was happy during the course of his life. Pausanias, lib. viii. ⁵² “What I have heard at Psophis, concerning Aglaus, a man of that city, who lived in the time of Crœsus, King of Lydia, that this Aglaus was happy through the whole course of his life, seemed to me incredible. One man, indeed, may meet with fewer afflictions than other men, as one ship may suffer less in a storm than another. But that any man should be continually free from troubles and distresses, is as incredible, and contrary to experience, as that ever there was a ship which always enjoyed favourable winds. Homer says that there lies by Jupiter an urn containing good things; but he places by him another containing evil things. This he learned from Apollo of Delphos, who pronounced, that Homer himself was both an unhappy and a happy man, and was born both to a good and a bad fate.” As this Aglaus was living in Croesus’s time, it is no wonder that Solon omitted him when he named to that monarch three men who, to him, seemed happy; for he believed that, to deserve such a title, one ought to be sheltered from the inconstancy of fortune, and that, during this

life no man is secure from this inconstancy. If Solon had affirmed that those three men never felt either grief or pain, he had been mistaken, and had contradicted that profound good sense which made him look for instances of happiness, not at the court of Crœsus, but amongst men of an ordinary condition.

It is certain that those who would find persons who have felt more happiness than uneasiness, will rather meet with them among the peasants, or the meanest tradesmen, than amongst kings and princes. Read these words of a great man:—“Do you believe, then, that afflictions and the most deadly pains do not hide themselves under the purple; or, that a kingdom is a universal remedy against all evils, balm that assuages them, or a charm which enchants them? Whereas, by the course of divine providence, which knows how to counterpoise the most exalted conditions, the grandeur which we at a distance admire, as something more than human, affects those less who are born in it, or confounds itself in its own plenty; aud, on the contrary, in grandeur, afflictions are more deeply felt; their blow is so much the heavier on great men, as they are less prepared to bear it.” James Benignus Bossuet, Bishop of Meaux, Oraison funebre de Marie Terese d'Autriche Reine de France. ⁵³ These are the two sources of the unhappiness of princes: their being continually accustomed to the advantages of their condition, renders them insensible as to good, and very sensible of evil. Let them receive one piece of bad news, and three of good; they scarce feel the happiness of the latter, but are touched to the quick with the misfortune of the former. Can they then want uneasinesses? Are their prosperities not thwarted by some ill fortune? Read all that Gustavus Adolphus did in Germany, and you will there find a superiority of fortune which has very few examples; yet you will observe so great a mixture of disadvantageous events, that you will easily, believe

him to have run through a great deal of uneasiness. Nay, suppose the victories gained in some provinces do not concur in the losses sustained in others, you Will have reason to believe that the joy is not pure and unmixed. A hundred anxious reflections disturb it. People will imagine that the attack was made too soon or too late; too many men were lost, and all advantage was not taken of the disorder of the vanquished, but they were permitted to recover from their fright; and they believe that, by a different tonduct, the victory had been more complete. How many generals are there who have very uneasy nights after entire victories? They are sensible that they are beholden for them to some lucky chance, to the fault of the enemy, and, sometimes, even to their own faults. They are sensible they have not done all that might have been done. They are apprehensive of the comments of the experienced, and of the malicious reflections of their enemies. In a word, they cannot bear a good testimony to themselves, nor internally applaud the eulogies bestowed upon them. This disturbs and racks them. Whilst their consciences are sometimes asleep, with regard to the law of God, they are touched to the very quick with respect to the transgression of some laws in the art of war, and the non-observance of some rules which an expert general would have followed. Observe, that the most fortunate princes, either in gaining of battles, or conquering of towns, are those whom the defeat of an army, or the raising of a siege, afflict the most sensibly. A long train of adversities hardens others; but these grow almost insensible as to good success, and extremely sensible of the least disgraces. Augustus is an example of this. On a thousand occasions he obtained the most important and glorious advantages over his enemies that he could have wished, and scarcely experienced any of the effects of bad fortune, but the loss of three legions so prodigiously afflicted him, that the pain, which he probably suffered on this account, was greater than the pleasure he had felt by ten victories. I cannot better prove, than by the example of Augustus, that we ought not to look for happy people upon the throne; for, if any monarch were ever fortune’s favorite, it was Augustus; and yet the list of his griefs is so large, that no one will deny, that at least he felt as much evil as good. See what I observe concerning Charles V, Queen Elizabeth, Lewis XI, and Lewis XIII. Mr Sillon saith judiciously, that “the whole lives of the emperors Ferdinand, Charles V, and Philip II, were nothing but a mixture of good and evil; that in them we see prosperities without number, and misfortunes without measure; wounds covered with laurels, and triumphs adorned with mourning. Look upon Ferdinand, proud of the reduction of the kingdom of Granada, and of obtaining the title of Catholic; see him triumphing in the conquest of Naples, and over the fortune of France; behold, a caprice gives him Navarre, and chance guides him to the discovery of an unknown world, and new riches. But let us consider the other side of his life, and turn the tables, and we shall see a prince ill treated by fortune, and a diadem broken by her blows. We shall see a father burying his son, and solemnizing the funeral of his eldest daughter. A husband losing a wife, who had been his glory, and more the companion of his fatigues than of his bed. A master forsaken by his servants and creatures; an old man driven from his house, and a father-in-law despoiled and stripped by his own son-in-law.” Silhon, Ministre d’Etat, livr. ii. Discours iii. pag. 135. Dutch Edition. ⁵⁴ Add to this, that he could not bear the reputation of a great captain; and this jealousy was not the least of his uneasinesses. See in the original what Mr Sillon saith of Charles V and Philip II. and what Plutarch relates of a great prince who was esteemed happy. Agamemnon. See Plutarch, de Tranquillitate Animi. ⁵⁵

What I have been saying of kings, may, in proportion, be said of all those whom providence raises to eminent posts, and who share in any kind of grandeur. Their lot is a mixture, in which evil is for the most part predominant. Great knowledge and a sublime genius do not exempt men from this fatality. No, look rather amongst the most ignorant rabble, than among illustrious, learned men, for happiness: the glory that surrounds authors and celebrated orators doth not secure them from a thousand troubles. It exposes them to envy two several ways, which are very inconvenient. They have rivals who persecute them, and are jealous, in their turn, of the praises which others deserve; a typographical error gives them more disturbance than four letters full of eulogies can afford them pleasure. The glory which they have acquired diminishes the pleasure they take in being praised, and increases their uneasiness for the want of praise, for censure, sharing of fame, &c. Besides, the more learning they have, the more they know that their works are imperfect. If they guard against the weaknesses of prejudices, and the irregularities of a hundred mean passions, and are willing to conform their language and conduct to this temper of mind, they become odious, and must renounce all external advantages. If they externally conform to the depraved taste of the world, they reproach themselves a hundred times a day with this ignominious hypocrisy, and thereby disturb their quiet. There are very few who, like Democritus, can know the extravagance of humours, and divert themselves with it: that philosopher was master of this talent. Pausanias mentions the oracle which was delivered to Homer, “You are happy, and unhappy.” Apollo could not answer better.

It is time to put an end to these common-places. Give me leave then to conclude with four remarks: the first is, that if we consider mankind in general, it seems that Xenophanes might have said, that pain and grief prevail over pleasure. That there are some private persons, who we may presume, taste in this life much more good than evil. That there are others of whom we may believe, that they have a much larger share of evil than good. That my second proposition is more especially probable, with respect to those who die before their declining age; and that the third appears chiefly certain in those who arrive to a decrepit old age. When Racan said,

Que pour eux seulement les dieux on fait la gloire,
Et pour nous les plaisirs,—

For them aloue the gods have glory made,
And for us pleasures,—

doubtless he considered only, the flower of our age; it is then that pleasures are predominant; and that good turns the scale. It is then that the Pagan Nemesis makes advances, and gives credit; she is then willing that accounts should be settled without any deduction; but she reimburses herself in old age.

Multa senem circumveniunt incommoda, vel quòd
Quærit, & inventis miser abstinet, ac timet uti:
Vel quòd res omnes timide gelideque ministrat,
Dilator spe longus, iners, avid usque futuri:
Difficiles, querulus, laudator temporis acti
Se puero, censor castigatorque minorum.
Multa ferunt anni venientes commoda secure,
Multa recedentes adimunt.
Horat. de Arte Poëtica, ver 169.

An old man’s character is hit with ease,
For he is peevish, and all one disease:
Still covetous, and still he gripes for more,

And yet he fears to use his present store:

Slow, long in hope, still eager to live on,
And fond of no man's judgment but his own:
On youth’s gay frolics peevishly severe,
And oh! when he was young, what times they were!
The flow of life brings in a wealthy store,
The ebb draws back whate’er was brought before,
And leaves a barren sand and naked shore.
Creech.

This poet hath not said all, nor was it necessary for him to touch on the advantage of old age which Juvenal displays.

Ut vigeant Sensus animi, ducenda tamen sunt
Funera natorum, rogus aspiciendus amatæ
Conjugis, & fratris, plenæque so ro rib us urnæ.
Hæc data pœna diu viventibus, ut renovata
Semper clade domus, multis in luctibus, inque
Perpetuo mærore, & nigra veste senescant. Juvenal, Sat. x, ver. 240.

Well, yet suppose his senses were his own,
He lives to be chief mourner for his son:
Before his face his wife and brother burn,
He numbers all his kindred in the urn.
These are the fines he pays for living long,
And dragging tedious age in his own wrong:
Griefs always green, a household still in tears,
Sad pomps: a threshold throng’d with daily biers
And liveries of black for length of years.
Dryden.

Add to this that passage of Virgil:

Optima quæque dies miseris mortalibus ævi
Prima fugit: subeunt morbi, tristisque senectus;
Et labor, & duræ rapit indementia mortis. Virgil. Georgic, lib. iii, v. 66.

In youth alone unhappy mortals live;
But ah! the mighty bliss is fugitive.
Discolour'd sickness, anxious labour come,
And age, and death's inexorable doom.
Dryden

Even those who believe that nature appointed all other things for their use, consider man as an unhappy being. Have we not seen above, that Pliny, ' after a prologue which allows the superiority to our species, places it in a worse condition than all other animals, with regard to disadvantages? Could Seneca, who so well represents the favours which God bestows on men, have denied Pliny's observations? Could Socrates, who so advantageously described the prerogatives of human nature, have denied them? “Thou thinkest,” said he to a disciple who denied Providence, “that the gods take no care of man, they who have allowed him alone the privilege of going erect, which is of great advantage to him in discovering things at a distance, in considering things above at his ease, and avoiding many inconveniences. In the next place, all animals which walk have indeed feet; but they serve them for no other use than barely to walk. Whereas the gods, besides this, have given hands to man, which render him the happiest animal in the world. All animals have tongues; but there is none besides that of man, that can form words to explain his thoughts, and communicate them to others. And to shew that the gods have provided even for our pleasures, they have not determined the season for the amours of men, who may continually enjoy, till their extreme old age, a pleasure which the brutes taste only at a certain season of the year. Lastly, not content to bestow so many advantages on the body of man, they have endowed him with a soul, transcendently excellent, and surpassing all others. For which, amongst the souls of other animals hath any knowledge of the essence of the gods, the works of whose creation are so stupendous? Is there any other species, besides that of man, that serves and adores them? What animal like him can defend itself from hunger, thirst, cold, and heat? Which of them like us can discover

remedies against diseases, or exercise his strength? Which of them is so capable of learning, or so perfectly retains the things which he hath seen, heard, or known? In a word, it is clear that man is a god in comparison with other Jiving species, considering the advantages of body and mind, which he naturally hath over them.” Xenophon. de memorab. Socrat. lib. i. ⁵⁶ It is very likely that after this beautiful description, he would have owned the deplorable condition of man, if he had been desired to examine the matter thoroughly.

As to seeking a remedy for their uneasiness among forbidden pleasures, is not this removing a physical evil by a moral one? Is not it a remedy worse than the disease? And is not the man very miserable, who can have recourse to no other remedy? It is doubtless very certain that a great many people find no other. Domestic brawls, and the sight of an ill management at home force men out of doors to gaming or to drinking at the tavern. Without those resources, they cannot drive away their melancholy; and such is the sole diversion which they oppose against uneasiness. Some even intoxicate themselves on purpose to avoid uneasy thoughts at night, the time when they are most troublesome. They have found that such thoughts keep them from sleeping, . and make them too cruelly attentive to their misery. Therefore by wine they procure themselves a perfect drowsiness. This is so much gained from ill fortune; this is securing the most formidable part of the whole day. Generally speaking, women cannot make use of this antidote to anxiety, and therefore their condition is more deplorable than that of man. Whence Medea declares in Euripides, that a woman ill married is in such a miserable condition, that it is better for her to die than continue in it; she cannot, like the men, go abroad in quest of necessary consolation.

. . . . . . . . .If, when
The careful consort rules her household well,
Her husband governs with a gentle away,
And courts her lov'd embrace; what home-felt joy,
What inward comforts seize her raptur’d breast!
But if, be scornful, slights her converse sweet,
’Tis better for her far to die than live. Man when oppress'd with black domestic cares,
Ranges abroad to seek relief, and meets
The healing comforts of a faithful friend,
Or fellowship of some companion dear.
But helpless, hapless woman, when denied
Those tender joys which from her husband's love
She justly claims, must seek it no where else.
Euripid. in Medea, ver. 241.

Aristotle acknowledged that there was in nature more evil than good, and that therefore Empedocles first supposed two principles, one of good, the other of evil. Before I cite his words, I must observe, that he takes the liberty of unravelling Empedocles’ opinion, and explaining it according to the spirit, rather than the letter; but after all he takes for granted, that good is the cause of all good, and evil the cause of all evil. The two principles of Empedocles, were amity and discord. Aristoteles, Metaphys. lib. i, cap. iv. ⁵⁷ As there appear in nature things which are contrary and opposite to good ones, and we observe not only order and beauty, but also disorder and deformity, and more things evil than good, more things deformed than beautiful; so there must be two distinct principles, one the cause of amity, and the other of discord. For if you take the sense and spirit of this opinion, and not the inaccurate expressions of Empedocles, it will appear that amity is the cause of good, and discord of evil. Therefore, if any one should say that Empedocles affirmed, in some respect, and was the first who affirmed that there are two principles, one good, the other evil, perhaps he would be in the

right; for the principle of all good things is a good principle, and that of all evil things, is an evil one. Observe that he elsewhere censures this opinion of Empedocles, and that he did not believe that there was any eternal principle of evil; for he affirms that there is nothing but good in the eternal beings.

I wonder Rabbi Maimonides could think that he had fully refuted the doctrine I mention. Moses Maimonides in More Nevochim, part iii. cap. xii. ⁵⁸ He confesses that the Heathens, and even some of the Rabbins, made declamations on the superiority of evil, and he treats them as ridiculous and senseless men. He says that the cause of their extravagant error is, that they fancy nature was made only for them, and do not mind that which has no reference to their persons, whence they infer that if any thing go ill with them, all is amiss in the universe. He adds, that if we would consider the smallness of man, with respect to the universe, we should be soon convinced that the superiority of evil has no place among the angels or the celestial bodies, nor among the elements and the mixt inanimate beings, nor among several sorts of animals. This observation of Maimonides doth not come home to the question; for those whom he refutes mean nothing else but that among men evil surpasses good. What doth it avail then in order to convince them of their error, to say that evil doth not surpass good in the rest of nature? All inanimate bodies are incapable of good and evil; they must not therefore be put into the account when this question is in dispute; and there is no body who may not maintain, that all in which we place the order, beauty, and perfection of the celestial bodies, &c. being changed, it would be no evil with respect to the universe, though man, or some other particular creatures, should suffer damage by it. If the sun

and the planets, had the same variation as the ships, which go and come between Marseilles and Naples, sometimes in fewer, and sometimes in more days, without any fixed rule, could any one pretend, that, with respect to the universe, it is not an evil, an imperfection and a disorder?

After this Maimonides says that the evils of mankind may be reduced to three classes: the first comprehends those which proceed from man’s having a body; the second, those which proceed from the. machinations of men against each other; the third are those which a man brings on himself by his own fault. He makes fine remarks on all these, but they are foreign to the question; for the dispute is not about the cause of man’s happiness, but whether this be matter of fact, that the evils which he suffers surpass the good things he enjoys. It signifies nothing to tell us that we ourselves are the cause of our misfortunes, that we often afflict ourselves without any reason; and that the pleasures of life are numberless, and sometimes very long; for all this is incapable of solving the difficulty. A grain of evil, as I may say, spoils a hundred pounds of good. The sea water, whose bitterness is intolerable, contains forty, or forty-two, times more sweet particles than salt ones. A little piece of iron hot in the seventh degree, burns more than an hundred feet hot in the fourth degree. No evil is small when it is felt and considered as a great one, and nothing troubles an uneasy man more than to know, that he has no reason to be uneasy. “There is,” says Mr de St Evremond, “a sort of uneasiness of which I cannot imagine the cause; and as one does not know how to find the true reason of it, I think it very difficult to allay, or to avoid it. Uneasinesses of this kind are common to all; they are such as make us fall out with ourselves, and shewing us that we have

no reason to be uneasy, force us, in spite of self-love, to confess, that we are so.” It must be confessed that Bayle has argued very powerfully on the sombre side of the question; but probably a strong conviction of the truth of his positions, may rather have a tendency to inculcate a pay and airy philosophy, than a grave and heavy one. Certain it is, that nothing can more strongly tend to inculcate the genuine Epicurean system, or that which unites with the idea of philosophic ease and elegant pleasure, a due restraint of the appetites and passions. It is not quite certain that a life passed in the real or figurative gardens of life, with a high determination to dismiss all extraneous causes of anxiety, may not be selfish in respect to society, or that an Atticus is precisely the model for a man of action and virtue; but it may be asserted without risk, that an early disposition to regard evil as predominant in every situation of life, may very naturally induce to the adoption of a theory, the professed object of which is to increase the agreeable portion of experience, and to lessen that which is opposed to it.—Ed. ⁵⁹—Art. Xenophanes.