It Alexander holds his Head awry, his Courtiers will have theirs in the fame Poflure; If Dionyfiw the Tyrant apply himfelf to Geometry upon Plato's Arrival in Syracufe, Geometry grows the Study^ of the Court; and the King's Palace, fays Plutarch, is prefently fill'd with dull, by the Plutarch. va^ numucr of thofe that are drawing Figures in it. But as foon as Plato is difguftcd with the Mor. /aw Tyrant, and the Tyrant dillikinghis Study betakes himfelf afrefti to his Pleafures: ThcCour- 10 dijim- tiers turn Voluptuaries to accompany him. " One would think, continues that Author, they tiuijh the « were enchanted, and that fome Cine had Metamorphos'd them into other Men. Their Aflc&ioo frmtbe for ph;iof°Phy grows into an Afledionror Debauchery; and their Abhorrence of Debauchery, iato Friend. tne Abhorrence of Philoji/phy. And thus Princes can change Vices into Vermes, and Vertue* into Chap. II. The Search after Truth. 8<?
into Vices \ and one word of their Mouth is able to reverfe all the Idea's of them, die Royal Word or Gefture, a Frown or a Lip, fhall debafe true Science and Learning, into Pedantry \ en- title Rafhnefs, Brutality, and Cruelty, to the repute of Valour and Greatnefs of Courage; and make Libertinifm and Profanenefs, pafs for Force and Liberty of Thought.
But this, as all that I have been faying, fuppofes that Princes have a Strong and Lively Imagi- nation; fince if it were Weak and Languishing, they could not Animate their Difcouvfe, nor give it that lively Turn and Vehemence, requifite to Mailer and Inflave the weaker Minds.
And now if the Imagination all alone, and unaffifted with the fupplies of Reafon, can produce fo furprizing EfFe&s; there is nothing fo Fantaftical or Extravagant, but it will perfwade, when back'd and fupported with any apparent Reafons. Here are fome proofs of it.
'Tis related by an Ancient Author, That 'in Ethiopia the Courtiers Crippl'd and Deform'd Diodor. themfelves, lop't off a Limb or two, and fometimes eyen died, to imitate their Princes. 'Twas Sicui.BibL as fcandalous to be feen with a Pair of Eyes, or to walk upright in the Retinue of a Crooked and Lib- 3- One-ey'd King; as it would be ridiculous to appear at Court now a-days in Ruffs and Caps, Or in white Buskins and gilded Spurs. This Ethiopian Fafhion was as Extravagant and incommo- dious, as can be imagin'd •, but yet it was the Fafhion: It was cheerfully follow'd by the Court, and the Pain to be indur'd was lefs thought on, than the Honour a Man purchas'd by manifeft- ing fo generous an Affection for his King: In lhort, this Mode, when fupported by a pre- tended Reafon of Friendfhip, grew up into a Cuftom and a Law, that obtain'd a considerable Time.
We learn from the Relations of thofe who have travelfd in the Levant, that this Cuftom is obferv'd in feveral Countries:, as alfo fome others, as inconfiftent with Reafon and good Senfe. But there is no neceffity of twice cutting the Line, to fee Unreafonable Laws and Cuftoms religi- oufly obferv'd, we may find the Patrons of Fantaftical and Inconvenient Fafhions nearer Home: Our own Country willfupply us with enow: Where-ever there are Men not infenfible to Paflions, and the Imagination- has the fupremacy over Reafon; there will be fantaftical Humours, and Humours unaccountable. If there be not fo much Pain to be fuffer'd in going with bare Breafts, in the moft rigid Winter Seafon, andftovingup the Body in the exceffive Heats of Summer, as in the plucking out an Eye, or cutting off an Arm; yet the Shame mould certainly be greater. I confefs the Pain is not fo great, but neither is the Reafon of undergoing it fo apparent; and fo the Extravagance comes at leaft to an even poize. For an Ethiopian might, in juftifying himfelf, fay he pluck'd out an Eye, out of a point of Loyalty and Honour: But what mould a Christian Lady fay for Expoling what Nature and Religion oblige her to conceal? Perhaps, that me did it, becaufe 'twas the Fafhion, and for no other Reafon. But fhe ought to know, That 'tis an Extrava- gant, Inconvenient, Unfeemly, and Shameful Fafhion on all Accounts, and proceeds from nothing but a manifeft Corruption of Reafon, and a fecret Depravation of Heart; and cannot be favour'd or follow'd without Scandal, and openly fiding with the Corruption of the Imagination againft: Reafon; with Impurity againft Purity; with the Spirit of the World againft the Spirit of GOD. In a word, to follow this Mode is to violate both the Laws of Reafon, and of the Gofpel: But what matters that, you'll fay, it is the Mode, that is a Law more Sacred and Inviolable, than That written by the Finger of G O D upon the Tables of Mofes, and thofe graven by his Spirit on the Hearts of Christians..
And indeed I cannot fee that the English or French have much Reafon to laugh at the Ethiopians and Savages: At the firft time of feeing a Crippl'd or One-ey'd King, in the Front of a Train of Lame and Half-lighted Courtiers j I confefs a Man would fcarce forbear lauging: But time, would make it familiar, and inftead of ridiculing them for an Infirmity of Mind, he would more admire perhaps the Greatnefs of their Courage, and Perfection of their Friendship. But 'tis not fo with the Fafhions of our modern Ladies: Their Extravagancies have no pretended Reafon to uphold them, if they have the Advantage of being lefs troublefome, they ftand chargeable how- ever with being more irrational. In lhort, they bear the Character of an Age ftill more corrupt in which nothing is found fufficient to qualifie the Diforders of Imagination.
What has been faid of Courtiers, ought likewife to be underftood of the moft part of Servants in refpeft of their Matters, Maids in refpedt of their Miftreffes, and not to make an impertinent Induction of particulars, of -all Inferiors in refped of their Superiors: and efpecially of Children in refpeft of their Parents: Forafmuch as they have a very peculiar Dependance on them^ are cherifh'd and brought up tenderly by them, which is not done in the reft; and laftly, v becaufe Reafon inclines Children to fuch Submiffion and Refpecf, as Reafon it felf cannot always regulate.
'Tis not abfolutely neceflary for the influencing the Imagination of others to have fome Autho- rity over them, and that they have fome kind of Dependance on us •, the fole ftrength of Imagi- nation is fometimes fufficient to do it: 'Tis common for ftrangers, for Men of no Reputation* for fuch as we are not prepoffefs'd with any Efteem of, to have fuch force of Imagination, and confequently fo lively and charming Expreflions, as to perfwade us without our knowing either for what end, or by what means we were perfwaded j I confefs it feems ftrange it ihould be fo, but yet there is nothing commoner.
Now this. imaginative Perfwafion muft proceed from the force of a Vifionary Wit, who has a "lively way of Talking, without knowing what he fays; and who thus brings over the Minds of Hearers to give a ftrong affent, without knowing what 'tis they affent to. For the generality of Men give way to the force of the fenfible Impreffion, and fo dazles and confounds them, and A a makes 90 B Malebranche Concerning Book II.
makes them paffionately judge of what they confufedly conceiv'd. We defire fuch as fhall read this Work, to confider this thing, to obferve the Inftances of it in the Companies they light up- on; and to make Reflection on what happens in their own Breaft on fuch occafions; which will be a thing of greater nfe to them than they can imagine.
But it mould be well confider'd, that there are two things, which wonderfully contribute to the Power of other's Imagination over us: The firft is, a grave and pious Deportment ^ the fecond, a Prefumptuous and Libertine Behaviour. For accordingly as we are difpos'd to Piety or Libertinifm, we fhall find an Air of Gravity and Piety in Difcourfe, or a Prefumpti;ous and Li* bertine ftrain fhall ad very differently upon us.
'Tis true, the one is of more dangerous contagion than the other; but yet we fhould equally refift the fenfible Manners of either fide; and only fubmit to the force of the Reafons they are attended with; for ridiculous Nonfence and Impertinence may be fpoke in a grave and fober way; and Blafphemy and Profanenefs, with an Air of Devotion. Wherefore we fhould, following the Advice of St. John, examine Whether the Sprits be of GO D, and not trufl all forts of Spirits. We know the Devils fometimes transform themfelves into Angels of Light; and there are Men who have, as it were, naturally the Mein of Piety, and Look of Religion, and confequently a well-eftablifh'd Reputation in the World:, who yet exempt Men from their ElTential Obligations, even from the loving GOD and their Neighbour; to enflave them to fome foolifh Practices, or Pharifaick Ceremony. _ ■ But the Strong Imaginations, whofe Impreffion and Contagion fhould more induftrioufly be avoided, are of Men abroad in the World, who affect the being reputed the Bold Wits; which is a Reputation eafily acquir'd. For 'tis but denying, with a particular Grace, Original Sin, the Immortality of the Soul, or ridiculing fome receiv'd Opinion of the Church, to fet up for fuch an accomplifh'd Wit among the Vulgar.
Thefe little Minds are generally full of Life and Fire, of a forward and haughty Carriage, which fways and difpofes Weak Imaginations, to yield to the vivid and plaufible Difcourfe, which to any thinking Man will appear to have nothing in it. For as happy as they are at Exprefling, they have but very ill luck at Reafoning. And yet whilffc Men, though never fo Rational, had rather be mov'd and affected with fenfible Pleafure, that attends the way of Delivery, and the fpecious Expreffions, than to enter into an irkfome Difquifition of the Reafons; 'tis vifible thefe Minds muft have theafcendant over others, and fo propagate their Contagion and their Errors, by the Authority they have over the Imagination of other Men.
CHAP. III.
I. Of the Force of fome Authors Imagination. II. Of Tertullian.
o NE of the greateft and mofl notorious Proofs of the Power fome Imaginations have over others, is the Prevalency fome Authors have of perfwading without Reafons. For inftance, The Turn, Tertullian, Seneca, Montagne, and fome others give their Difcourfe has thofe Charms and Luftre, which dazle the Minds of moft Men; though it be only a faint Draught of Fancy, and, as it were, the Shadows of thofe Authors Imagination. ' Their Words, as dead and inanimate as they are, have greater Vigour than the Reafons of others: They enter, they penetrate, they domineer in the Soul at fo imperious a rate,as to challenge Obedience without being underftood, and make their Orders fubmitted to, before they are known. A Man has a Mind to believe, but he knows not what. When he would know what 'tis he would believe, and approaches, as I may fay, thofe fleeting Phantoms, to take a View of them, they diffipate'into fmoak with all their gaudy Drapery and Luftre.
But though thefe Authors I have nam'd, are the moft proper Inftances that can be given, to fhew the Power of fome Men's Imaginations over others, and I propofe them for that purpofe; yet I pretend not to condemn them in every thing. For I cannot forbear having an Efteem for thofe particular Beauties that are in them, and a Deference to that univerfal Approbation they have had for many Ages; I muft declare I have a great Veneration for fome of Tcnulliarh Works, and efpecially for his Apology against the Gentiles, and his Book of PrefcHpiqns against He- See the n-retJcks '■> and for fome Pai"ts of the Books of Seneca, though I have very little Efteem for any thing luftnuions. of Montagne.
Tertullian was indeed a Man of profound Learning, but of a better Memory than Judgment; and had a greater Penetration and Extent of Imagination, than of Intellect. There is no doubt but he was a Vifionis~l, in the Senfe I have before explain'd; and was fraught with moft of the Qualities I have attributed to the Vifionary Wits: And the Veneration he had for Ahmanush PtL ons and his Prophetess, are an undoubted Demonftration of the Weaknefs of his Judgment: His fervent Zeal, and Tranfports, and Enthnfiafms upon trifling Subjefts, arc a fenfible Indication of a diftemper d Imagination. What irregular Motions are there in his Hyperboles and Figures t How many pompous and magnificent Arguments that owe all their force to their fenfible Luftre, and perfwade mecrly by giddying and dazling the Mind?
To Chap. IV. The Search after Truth. af To what purpofe," for inftance, does that Author, in juilifying his wearing the Philofophers Gown inflead of the ufual one, alledge this Habit was formerly the Fafhion in the City Carthage? Should we at prefent wear Ruffs and Caps, becanfe they were in ufein the days of our Fore-fathers? Or would it look well for Women to put on old-fafhion'd Heads and Fardwgales, except it be in the Carnival, when they would difguife themfelves to go a Mafyueradivg?
What could be concluded from thofe pompous and magnificent Descriptions of the Changes the World undergoes, and what could they contribute to his Apology? The Moon has different Pbafes, the Year changes its Seafons, and the Fields have another Countenance in Summer than in Winter. Inundations lay -whole Provinces under Water; and Earthquakes fwallow them up -. New Cities are built, and new Colonies planted; and People in fwarms have over-run and depo- pulated entire Countries: And therefore the common Toga Ihould be chang'd for the Philofophic Pallium. What Affinity is there between the thing to be prov'd, and all thefe Changes, and fe- veral others he's at great Pains to find out, and which he defcribes in unnatural, obfeure, and bombaftic Expreflions? The Peacock varies every Hep he makes; and the Serpent gliding into a narrow hole, (lips out of its Skin, and grows young again; why then Ihould not we change our c. Habit? Could any Man in his Wits, and in cold Blood, make fuch Inferences as thefe? Could any &,ap'D2g that mould hrear him, hold from laughing? Did not this Author make giddy the Head, and con- Paiiio. found the Intellect of his Reader?
Almoff. all the remainder of that little Book De Pallio, is fill'd with Multos etiam vidi poftquam bene Reafons as foreign to his Subied as thefe; which certainly prove nothing, *J?aflent, nt eum affequerentur, butoalyamafe fachasare liable to be amasM: But 'tis needlefs to infift ^gSSSSSSSSA longer on this 7 opid: It may fuffice to fay, That it Accuracy of Thought, aione difcefliffe. Sic qui sminm ha- and Clearnefs and Diftindnefs of Difcourfe, Ihould always appear in what- beri videriqjdignus, qui hoc cogno- e-er a Man writes ffince the end of Writing is to manifeft the Truth) mentum habere voluit, adeo quod 'tis impoflible to excufe this Author, who, by the Teftimony of Salmafms, v.f™* ^fu IT.T 5* e?cere the belt of our Modern Cnticks, has laid out all his Endeavours to become rare aufim neminem ad hoctempus cbicure; and has fo well fucceeded in that Defign, that this Commentator extitiffe, qui pofiit jurarehunc libelfcarce forbore Swearing that no Man ever perfectly underftood him. But fup- *um a capite ad calcem ufq; totum,a.
polma the Genius of the Nation, the Humour of the Mode that then pre- [e 5on mi™s b.ene intelleftum quam vail'd" and laftly, the Nature of Satyre or Raillery, might in fome meafure J®g£ Mm' in EP'fi- ^■Comment, juftifie this notable Defign of being Myfterious and Incomprehenfible: yet all this could never atone for the pitiful Reafons and the Ramblings of an Author, who in many of his Works, as well as this, fpeaks whatever comes in's Head; provided it be in fbme unordinary Thought, which he can fet off in fome bold Expreflion, with hopes of making Oltentatioa of the force, or I might fay, the corruption of his Imagination.
CHAf. IV. Of the Imagination of Seneca.
THE Imagination of Seneca is fometimes as irregular as Tertullian's: His impetuous Mo* tions carrying him into unknown Regions; where yet he walks with as great confidence and fecurity, as if he knew where he was, and whither he was tending. Whenever he makes large fteps, fleps in Figures, and exactly meafur'd; he fancies he is far advane'd; whereas he imitates the Dancers, that always end where they begin.
We ought to diftinguifh the Force and Beauty of Words, from the Force and Evidence of Reafons. There is doubtlefs much Force, and fome Beauty in the Words of Seneca t, but very little Strength and Evidence in his Reafons: By the Force of imagination, he gives fuch a Turn to his Words, as moves, agitates, and perfwades by the Impreffion they.make on us; but he fails to give that Diilindnefs and pure Light, which illuminates and perfwades by Evidence. His Conviftion depends on the Commotion he raifes, and the Pleafure he fuggefts; but fuch as can read him fedately and undifturb'd, that can take heed of Surprize, and are us'd to no other Con- vidion than that of Clearnefs and Evidence of Reafon, will not, I dare fay, be convine'd by his Difcourfe. For, in fhort, fo he talks handfomly, he is but little folicitous about what he fays j as if it were poffible a Man mould fpeak well, without knowing what he fpeaks. And thus he commonly perfwades, without knowing how or why we are perfwaded •, as if it were reafona- ble to be convine'd of any thing without a diilinft Knowledge of it, and Examination of the Proofs that demonftrate it.
What can be more ftately than the Idea he give us of his Wife-man • and yet what at the bottom is more vain and fantaftical? The Portraiture he draws of Plato is too fine to be Natural; but 'tis fuch Paint and Varnifh, he puts upon none but the unthinking fort of Men, and thofe that are unacquainted with Nature. Cato was a Man, and fubjed to the Mifery of Men: 'Twas only a Fancy that he was invulnerable, or that when he was flruck, he was not hurt: He had neither the hardnefs of Adamant to be impenetrable to Iron, nor the liability of Rocks to be unfhaken by the Floods, as Seneca pretends* In a word* he was not infenfible \ as Ssneca himfelf is oblig'd to aeknowledge* j lapidum inexpugnabi...tro retiindit: quemadmodum projetJi in altum fcopuh marefrangunt, nee ipji *Ila Jtvttta veftigt* tot ver- berati faults oftentant: Itafapientis animus folidits est; & id roboris collegia ut tarn t ut us fit ab injuria, miam ilia qua extuli. Sen. c. 5. Trad. Quod in fapientem non cadit injuria.
But what? will he not grant that his Wife-man may become miferable, when he acknowledges he is not infenfible to Pain? No by no means; Pain can never affetf him, nor the fear of it dif- quiethim: For his Wife, man is Paramount to Fortune, and above the Malice of Men: and they are incapable of giving him any Disturbance.
Adfum hoc vobis probations, fub ifto tot civitatum everfore muniment a incur fu arietis labefieri, & turrium altitudinem cuniculis ac latentibus foffis repente refidere, & aquaturum editiffimas arces agger em crefcere. At nulla machinamenta poffe reperiri, qua bene fundatum animum agitent. And lower: Non Babylonis muros illi contuleris, quos Alexander intravit; non Carthaginis, aut Numantia mcenia una mdnu capta: non Capitolium arcemve, habent ifta hofiile vefiigium. Cap. 6.
Quid tu put as cum fiolidm ille Rex multitudine telorum diem obfeurajfet, ullam fagittam inSoleminci- dijfe: ut cceleftia humanas manus effugiunt, & ab his qui templa diruunt, autfimulachra confiant, nihil divinitati nocetur; ita quicquid fit in fapientem, proterve, petulanter, fuperbe frujlrd tentatur. Gap. 4. Inter fragor em templorum fuper Deosfuos cadentium uni homini paxfuit. Cap. 5.
Non efi ut die as ita utfoles, hunc fapientem noftrum nufquam inveniri. Nonfing'unta ifiudhumani in- genii vanum dec us, nee ingentem imaginem rei falfa concipimus: fed qualem confirmamus, & exhibuimus & exhibebimus. Ceterum hicipfe M. Cato vereor nefupra nojirum exemplar ft. Cap. 7.
Videor mihi intueri animum tuum incenfum, & effervefcentem: paras acclamare. Hac funt qua an- ftoritatem pr&ceptvs vejlris detrahant. Magna promittitis, & qua ne optari quidem nedum credi pof- funt. And lower: Ita fublato alte fuper 'cilio in eadem, qua c&teri, defcenditis mutatis rerumnominibus; tale itaque aliquid, & in hoc effe fufpicor, quod prima fpecie pulchrum atque magnificum efi, nee injuri- am, nee contumeliam accepturum effe fapientem. And lower: Ego vero fapientem non imaginario honore verborum exornare conftitui, fed eo loco ponere, quo nulla perveniat injuria.
Battering Rams, and other Engines of Wars, will fhake the Walls and Towers of the ftrongeffc Garrifons, and in time level them with the Earth: But what Machines are found fufficient to fhake the impregnable Mind of his Wife-man? Compare not with him the Wall of Babylon fore'd by Alexander; nor thofe of Carthage and Numantia, that one General overturn'd: Nor laftly,the Capitol, and the Citadel, which carry the marks of the prevailing Enemy. Arrows fhot againft the Sun are fpent in vain; Sacriledges committed in the overthrow of Temples, and the Shrines of the Gods melted down, touch not the Divinity; yet the Gods may be overwhelm'd in the ruines of their own Temples: But his Wife-man fhall never be opprefs'd; or rather, he may be opprefs'd, but 'tis impoffible he mould be hurt.
But think not (fays Seneca) that the Wife-man I am picturing, is no where to be found. 'Tis no vain Fi&ion of ours, ridiculoufly to exalt the Mind of Man: 'Tis not a Stalking Idea, with- out Realty and Truth; no, the Original Cato tranfeends perhaps the Pidlure that I make of him.
But methinks, continues he, I perceive your Mind begins to kindle, and grow hot •, and you are ready to cry out, That 'tis the way to make our felves contemptible, to promife things above the reach of Faith or Hope; and that the Stoich only change the Names of things, to fpeak the fame Truths in a more lofty and fupercilious ftrain. But fee how you are miftaken: For 'tis not our Defign to dignifie the Wife-man with the imaginary Honour of great and pompous Words; but to fet him in a place inacceffible to Injuries and Affronts.
See here now Seneca's weak Reafon is hurried away with an impetuous Imagination. ' But is it poffible for Men, under a continual fenfe of their Miferies and Infirmities, to fall into fuch pre- fumptuous and arrogant Notions? Can a reafonable Man be perfwaded that Pain cannot touch or hurt him? Or could this All-wife, this Self-fufficient Cato fuffer without Difquiet, at leaft fome Moleftation, I don't fay the heinous Infults and Abufes of an enraged Rabble, Dragging, Strip- ping, Beating him j but the Stinging of a filly Fly? What can be imagin'd more weak againff fo ftrong and convincing Proofs of our own Experience, as this pretty Arguing of Seneca, which yet is one of his heft Arguments? • Validius debet effe quod Udit, eo quod Uditur: non eft aut em fortior nequitia virtute: non potest ergo ladi Sapiens. Injuria in bonos non tentatur nifi a mails, bonis inter fe pax est. Quodfi Udi nifi infirmior non pot efi, malus autem bono infirmior efi, nee injuria bonis nifi a difpari verenda efi, injuria in Sapientem virum non cadit. Cap. 7.
That which hurts, fays he, muft be flronger than that which is hurt: But Vice is not ftronger than Vertue j therefore the Wife-man cannot be hurt. To this we need only anfwer, Either that all Men are Sinners, and confequently worthy of the Mifery they fuffer, as Religion aflures us; or that if Vice be not ftronger than Vertue, yet the Vicious may fometimes be more preva- Epicurus lent than tne Ve.rtuous, as Experience manifefts.
ait, Injuri- Epicurus was in the right, in faying that Injuries were fuppor table by a Wife-man; but Seneca ceras toicra- tainly in the wrong, to affirm, The Wife-man could not be injured. The Vertue of the Stoicks biles effe Cou Id never render them impregnable; fince 'tis not inconfiftent with true Vertue for a Man to noKuri- bc Miferablc5 and pitiable at the time of his fuffering fome Evil: St. /Wand the Primitive Chrias nun effe ^**wj nacl doubtlefs more Vertue than Cato and all the Stoicks; and yet they confefs'd they were Miferable Chap. IV. The Search after Truth. cj \ Miferable through the Pains they endur'd ^ though they were Happy through the Profped of an Eternal Retribution. Sitanturn in bac vita fperantes [umus, mifcrabiliores fumus omnibus bominibus fays St. Paul.
As 'tis GO D alone, who through his Grace can give us a real, and a folid Vertue, fo'tis from Bim only we can receive the Fruition of a folid and real Happinefs; which yet he neither pro- mifes, nor gives us in this Life; but in the other it mufl be expeded from his Juftice, as the Recompenfe of the Miferies we have undergone for the Love of him in this: We are not as yet in poffeflion of that Peace and Repofe, which nothing can difturb; even the Grace of our LORD makes us not fo Invincible, but it commonly leaves us to the Senfe and Feeling of our own Imbecility, both to certifie us there is nothing in the World but is capable of hurting us; and to teach us to "firfTer, with a modeft Patience and an humble Refignation, all the Injuries we receive; and not with a faftuous and haughty Patience, like the Conftancy of Proud Prefurri- ptuous Cato.
When Cato was ftruck on the Face, he was not troubl'd at it; nor would he revenge or par- don the Affront, but Dogmatically deny'd that he had receiv'd any. He would be thought infi- nitely above thofe that ftruck him: So that his Patience was Pride and Arrogance, and affronting and abufing thofe thatinjur'd him: This Patience of his being a manifeft fign, that he look'd up- on his Enemies as Beafts, with whom 'twas below him to be angry. And this Contempt of his Enemies, and great Efteem of himfelf, is what Seneca calls the greatnefs of Courage; Majori ani- mo, fays he, (fpeaking of an Abufe Cato had receiv'd,) non agnovit, quant ignovijfet. How extra- vagant it is to confound Magnanimity with Pride, and feparating Patience from Humility, to joyn it with an unfufferable Arrogance. And yet how feelingly does fuch Extravagance flatter the Va- nity of Man, who is never willing to ftoop and abafe himfelf? And how dangerous is it, for Chri- ftians efpecially, to be inftruded out of the Morality of an Author of fo little Judgment as Seneca, and yet of fo ftrong, fo lively, and fo impetuous an Imagination, as dazles, and giddies, and drags along the Readers, that have but little Strength of Mind, but great Propenfion to whatever indulges Concupifcence, and their Senfes?
Let Chriftians rather learn from their Mafter, that they are liable to the Infults and Injuries of evil Men; and that the Good are fometimes fubjeded to the Wicked, by the order of Providence. When one of the Officers of the High-Prieft gave our LORD a box on the Ear; that Wife-man of the Christians, he who was infinitely Wife, and whofe Power was as great as his Wifdom, confeffes that Servant was capable of hurting him: He is not vex'd at the Affront, nor does he take CWs way of Revenge; but pardons, as one that was truly offended. He was able to revenge Himfelf, and deftroy His Enemies; but he rather fufrers with a modeft and an humble Patience, offenfiveto none, not even to that Servant that had injur'd Him. Whereas Cato either could not, or durft not take a real Revenge of the Affront he had receiv'd, and thei-efore attempts an ima- ginary one, which ftruck in with his Vanity and his Pride. For he fwells and exalts his Mind as high as the Clouds; from whence he looks down upon Men below as little Flies; and defpifes them as infignificant Infeds, incapable of offending him, and unworthy of his Indignation. This Vifton, is a Notion worthy of the Wife Cato.• 'Tis this which gives him a greatnefs of Soul, and a eonftancy of Courage, that equals him with the Gods. 'Tis this which makes him Invulnerabkj as fetting him above the Power and Malice of other Men. Alas, poor Cato! Thou fancieft thy Sapientia Vertue raifes thee above all things; whereas thy Wifdom is Folly, and thy Magnanimity abomi- ]nW nable before GOD; whatever the Wife-men of the World may think of it. JhHtitia There are Viftonifts of feveral kinds. Some fancy themfelves transform'd into Coch and Hens; eft apUci others think they become Kings and Emperors; and fome again perfwade themfelves they are in- Deum. dependent, and like the Gods. And yet whilft Men look upon thofe as Madmen, who are confi- Q^od ho* dent of being chang'd into Cocks and Kings, they do not always think thofe fo., who fay their Ver- "j1"^113 tue renders them independent, and equal to the Gods. The Reafon whereof is, That to be rec- abominaV kon'd a Madman, 'tis not enough to have Mad Thoughts } but 'tis moreover requifite that thefe tioeft an- Thoughts be taken for Vifions and Madneffes by other Men. For Madmen never go for what te Deum* they are, among Madmen that are like them, but only among Rational Men; as Wife-men never Luc' l6' pafs for what they are, in the Company of Madmen. Wherefore fuch are acknowledg'd for Madmen, who take themfelves for Cocks or Kings; becaufe no Man fees any reafon to believe ano- ther can be fo eafily chang'd into a Cock or a King: But 'tis not now-a-days that Men firft begin to think they can become as Gods: It has been the belief of all Ages, and perhaps more of former