gate themselves; whereof the latter, which is active and as it were the promus, seems to be the stronger and more worthy; and the former, which is passive and as it were the condus, seems to be inferior. For in the universe, the heavenly nature is mostly the agent, the earthly nature the patient; in the pleasures of living creatures, that of generation is greater than that of food; in divine doctrine, "It is more blessed to give than to receive," and in common life, there is no man's spirit so soft and effeminate but esteems the effecting of somewhat that he has fixed in his desire more than any pleasure or sensuality. And this pre-eminence of the active good is infinitely raised by the consideration that the condition of man is mortal, and exposed to the blows of fortune; for if we might have a certainty and perpetuity in our pleasures, the certainty and continuance of them would advance their price. But when we see it is but thus with us, "We count it much to postpone death for awhile; "2 "Boast not thyself of the morrow; Thou knowest not what a day may bring forth;" it is no wonder that we earnestly pursue such things as are secured and exempted from the injuries of time, which are only our deeds and our works; as it is said, "Their works follow them." 4 There is also another important pre-eminence of the active good, produced and upheld by that affection which is inseparable from human nature; the love of novelty and variety; which in the pleasures of the sense (which is the principal part of passive good) is very confined, and can have no great latitude.5 "Only think how often you do the same thing over and over. Food, Sleep, Play, come round in a perpetual circle; a man might wish to die, not only from fortitude or misery or wisdom, but merely from disgust and weariness of life." But in enterprises, pursuits and purposes of life there is much variety; whereof men are sensible with pleasure in their inceptions, progressions, rests, recoils, reintegrations, approaches, and attainings to their ends; so as it was well said, "Life without a purpose is unsettled and languid." And this befalls as well the wise as the foolish; as Solomon says, "A heady man seeks to satisfy his desire, and intermeddles with everything." And we see that the greatest kings who might have

6

2 Seneca, Nat. Quæst. ii. 59. Rev. xiv. 13.

' Cf. Prov. xviii. 1.

at command everything which can gratify the sense, have yet sometimes affected mean and frivolous pursuits (as was the passion of Nero for the harp, of Commodus for gladiatorial combats, of Antoninus for chariot-driving, and the like); which nevertheless they esteemed more of than of the whole abundance of sensual pleasures; so much pleasanter is it to be doing than to be enjoying.

But here it must be more carefully observed, that this active individual good has no identity with the good of society, though in some case it has an incidence into it: for although it many times produces and brings forth acts of beneficence (which is a virtue of communion), yet there is this difference, that these acts are mostly done not with a view to the benefit and happiness of others, but to a man's own power and greatness; as plainly appears when this kind of active good strikes on a subject contrary to the good of society. For that gigantean state of mind, which possesses the troublers of the world (such as was Lucius Sylla, and infinite others in smaller model, who are bent on having all men happy or unhappy as they are their friends or enemies, and would shape the world according to their own humours, which is the true Theomachy), this I say aspires to the active good of the individual (apparent good at least), though it recedes farthest of all from the good of society.

But Passive good is subdivided into Conservative and Perfective. For there is impressed on all things a triple desire or appetite, in respect of self or individual good; one of preserving, another of perfecting, and a third of multiplying and spreading themselves: whereof the last is that which we have just handled by the name of "Active good," so that there remain only the two other goods which we have mentioned; whereof that of perfecting is the highest; for to preserve a thing in its existing state is the less, to raise the same to a higher nature is the greater. For in all things there are some nobler natures to the dignity and excellence whereof inferior natures aspire as to their sources and origins. So it was not unfitly said of men "that they have a fiery vigour and a heavenly origin," for the assumption or approach of man to the Divine or Angelical nature is the perfection of his form; the false and preposterous

1 Virg. Æn, vi. 7. 30. :

Igneus est ollis vigor et cœlestis origo.

imitation of which perfective good is the very plague and stormy whirlwind of human life, which carries off and destroys everything; while men upon the instinct of an advancement formal and essential are carried by a blind ambition to seek an advancement merely local. For as those who are sick, and find no remedy, tumble up and down and change place, as if by a remove local they could obtain a remove internal, and get away from themselves and from the disease that is within them; so is it in ambition, when men possessed by a false idea of exalting their nature obtain nothing else but an eminence and exaltation of place.

The good of conservation consists in the reception and fruition of that which is agreeable to our natures; which, though it seems to be the most pure and natural of pleasures, is yet the softest and the lowest. And this also receives a difference, which has in part been weakly judged, in part not examined; for the good of fruition, or (as it is commonly termed) pleasure, is placed either in the sincerity of the fruition, or in the vigour of it; the one of which is the result of equality; the other of variety and vicissitude; the one having less mixture of evil, the other a stronger and more lively impression of good. Which of these is the greater good, is a question controverted, but whether man's nature may not be capable of both is a question not inquired. The former question being debated in a dispute between Socrates and a sophist, Socrates placing felicity in an equal and constant peace of mind, and the sophist in much desiring and much enjoying, they fell from arguments to ill words; the sophist saying that "Socrates's felicity was the felicity of a block or stone,"1 and Socrates saying, "that the sophist's felicity was the felicity of one that had the itch, who did nothing but itch and scratch." And both these opinions do not want their supports; for the opinion of Socrates is much upheld by the general consent even of the Epicureans, who did not deny that virtue bears a great part in felicity; and if so, certain it is, that virtue has more use in clearing perturbations, than in compassing desires. But the sophist's opinion is somewhat favoured by the assertion we last spoke of, "that good of advancement is greater than good of simple preservation," because every obtaining a desire has a show of advancing

Plato, Gorgias, p. 494.

nature towards perfection; which though it be not really the case, yet motion even in a circle has a show of progression.

But the second question (as to whether a man's nature may not be capable of tranquillity of mind and vigour of fruition both), decided in the true way, makes the former superfluous. For do we not often see some minds so constituted, as to take the greatest delight in enjoying pleasures when present, and yet nevertheless little annoyed at the loss and leaving of them? so that the philosophical progression; "Enjoy not, that you may not desire; desire not, that you may not fear;" is the precaution of cowardice and pusillanimity. And indeed most of the doctrines of the philosophers seem to me to be more fearful and cautionary than the nature of things requires: thus they increase the fear of death in offering to cure it; for when they would have a man's whole life to be but a discipline or preparation to die, they must needs make men think that it is a terrible enemy, against whom there is no end of preparing. Better says the poet (for a heathen):

Fortem posce animum mortis terrore carentem
Qui finem vitæ extremum inter munera ponat
Naturæ.1

So have philosophers sought in all things to make men's minds too uniform and harmonical, not breaking them to contrary motions and extremes; the reason whereof I suppose to be, because they themselves were men dedicated to a private life, free from business and from the necessity of applying themselves to other duties. But men should rather imitate the wisdom of jewellers, who, if there be a grain or a cloud or an ice in a jewel, which may be ground forth without taking too much of the stone, they remove it: otherwise they will not meddle with it. And in like manner men ought so to procure serenity, as they destroy not magnanimity. And so much for Individual good.

Having, therefore, discussed self-good (which we also term "Private," "Particular," and "Individual" good), let us resume the good of communion, which respects and beholds society, which we may term Duty: because the term of duty is more proper

Juv. x, 357.:

Give me a soul which can grim death defy,
And count it Nature's privilege to die.

to a mind well framed and disposed towards others, as the term of virtue is applied to a mind well formed and composed in itself. This part may seem at first glance to pertain to science civil and politic, but not if it be well observed; for it concerns the regimen and government of every man over himself, and not over others. And as in architecture it is one thing to direct the framing the posts, beams, and other parts of the building, and another thing to join and fasten them; and as in mechanics it is one thing to direct how to frame an instrument or engine, and another to set it on work and employ it; so the doctrine of the conjugation of men in the state or society, differs from that which teaches them to conform and be well-disposed to the advantages thereof.

This part of duty is likewise subdivided into two parts; whereof the one treats of " the common duty of every man as a member of a state; the other treats of " the respective or special duties of every man, in his profession, vocation, rank and character." The first of these is extant, and well laboured, as has been said; the second likewise I may report as handled dispersedly, though not digested into an entire body of science; not that I object to this manner of dispersed writing, which on the contrary in this kind of argument I acknowledge to be best. For who is there with such clearness or confidence that he can take upon him to write skilfully and accurately of the proper and relative duty of every several vocation and place? But treatises on matters of this kind which do not savour of experience, but are only drawn from a general scholastic knowledge of the subject, are for the most part empty and unprofitable. For although sometimes a looker on may see more than a player, and there be a proverb more arrogant than sound, concerning the censure of the people on the actions of their superiors, "That the vale best discovers the hill; " yet it were much to be wished that only men of most practice and experience should meddle with such arguments; for the writing of speculative men on active matter for the most part seems to men of experience, as Phormio's arguments of the wars seemed to Hannibal, to be but dreams and dotage. Only there is one vice which accompanies those who write on their own arts and professions, that they cannot refrain from adorning and magnifying in excess those little Sparta's of theirs.

1 Cic. de Orat. lib. ii. 18.