HUMAN HAPPINESS IS FOUNDED UPON WISDOM AND VIRTUE; AND FIRST, OF WISDOM.
Taking for granted that _human happiness_ is founded upon _wisdom_ and
_virtue_ we shall treat of these two points in order as they lie: and,
_first_, of _wisdom_; not in the latitude of its various operations but
as it has only a regard to good life, and the happiness of mankind.
Wisdom is a right understanding, a faculty of discerning good from
evil; what is to be chosen, and what rejected; a judgment grounded upon
the value of things, and not the common opinion of them; an equality
of force, and a strength of resolution. It sets a watch over our
words and deeds, it takes us up with the contemplation of the works
of nature, and makes us invincible by either good or evil fortune. It
is large and spacious, and requires a great deal of room to work in;
it ransacks heaven and earth; it has for its object things past and
to come, transitory and eternal. It examines all the circumstances
of time; “what it is, when it began, and how long it will continue:
and so for the mind; whence it came; what it is; when it begins; how
long it lasts; whether or not it passes from one form to another, or
serves only one and wanders when it leaves us; whether it abides in a
state of separation, and what the action of it; what use it makes of
its liberty; whether or not it retains the memory of things past, and
comes to the knowledge of itself.” It is the habit of a perfect mind,
and the perfection of humanity, raised as high as Nature can carry it.
It differs from _philosophy_, as avarice and money; the one desires,
and the other is desired; the one is the effect and the reward of the
other. To be wise is the use of wisdom, as seeing is the use of eyes,
and well-speaking the use of eloquence. He that is perfectly wise is
perfectly happy; nay, the very beginning of wisdom makes life easy to
us. Neither is it enough to know this, unless we print it in our minds
by daily meditation, and so bring a _good-will_ to a good habit. And
we must practice what we preach: for _philosophy_ is not a subject for
popular ostentation; nor does it rest in words, but in things. It is
not an entertainment taken up for delight, or to give a taste to our
leisure; but it fashions the mind, governs our actions, tells us what
we are to do, and what not. It sits at the helm, and guides us through
all hazards; nay, we cannot be safe without it, for every hour gives
us occasion to make use of it. It informs us in all duties of life,
piety to our parents, faith to our friends, charity to the miserable,
judgment in counsel; it gives us _peace_ by _fearing_ nothing, and
_riches_ by _coveting nothing_.
There is no condition of life that excludes a wise man from discharging
his duty. If his fortune be good, he _tempers_ it; if bad, he _masters_
it; if he has an estate, he will exercise his virtue in plenty; if
none, in poverty: if he cannot do it in his country, he will do it in
banishment; if he has no command, he will do the office of a common
soldier. Some people have the skill of reclaiming the fiercest of
beasts; they will make a lion embrace his keeper, a tiger kiss him,
and an elephant kneel to him. This is the case of a wise man in the
extremest difficulties; let them be never so terrible in themselves,
when they come to him once, they are perfectly tame. They that ascribe
the invention of tillage, architecture, navigation, etc., to wise
men, may perchance be in the right, that they were invented by wise
men, as _wise men_; for wisdom does not teach our fingers, but our
minds: fiddling and dancing, arms and fortifications, were the works
of luxury and discord; but wisdom instructs us in the way of nature,
and in the arts of unity and concord, not in the instruments, but in
the government of life; not to make us live only, but to live happily.
She teaches us what things are good, what evil, and what only appear
so; and to distinguish betwixt true greatness and tumor. She clears
our minds of dross and vanity; she raises up our thoughts to heaven,
and carries them down to hell: she discourses of the nature of the
soul, the powers and faculties of it; the first principles of things;
the order of Providence: she exalts us from things corporeal to things
incorporeal, and retrieves the truth of all: she searches nature, gives
laws to life; and tells us, “That it is not enough to God, unless we
obey him:” she looks upon all accidents as acts of Providence: sets a
true value upon things; delivers us from false opinions, and condemns
all pleasures that are attended with repentance. She allows nothing
to be good that will not be so forever; no man to be happy but that
needs no other happiness than what he has within himself. This is the
felicity of human life; a felicity that can neither be corrupted nor
extinguished: it inquires into the nature of the heavens, the influence
of the stars; how far they operate upon our minds and bodies: which
thoughts, though they do not form our manners, they do yet raise and
dispose us for glorious things.
It is agreed upon all hands that “right reason is the perfection of
human nature,” and wisdom only the dictate of it. The greatness that
arises from it is solid and unmovable, the resolutions of wisdom being
free, absolute and constant; whereas folly is never long pleased with
the same thing, but still shifting of counsels and sick of itself.
There can be no happiness without constancy and prudence, for a wise
man is to write without a blot, and what he likes once he approves for
ever. He admits of nothing that is either evil or slippery, but marches
without staggering or stumbling, and is never surprised; he lives
always true and steady to himself, and whatsoever befalls him, this
great artificer of both fortunes turns to advantage; he that demurs
and hesitates is not yet composed; but wheresoever virtue interposes
upon the main, there must be concord and consent in the parts; for
all virtues are in agreement, as well as all vices are at variance. A
wise man, in what condition soever he is will be still happy, for he
subjects all things to himself, because he submits himself to reason,
and governs his actions by council, not by passion.
He is not moved with the utmost violence of fortune, nor with the
extremities of fire and sword; whereas a fool is afraid of his own
shadow, and surprised at ill accidents, as if they were all levelled at
him. He does nothing unwillingly, for whatever he finds necessary, he
makes it his choice. He propounds to himself the certain scope and end
of human life: he follows that which conduces to it, and avoids that
which hinders it. He is content with his lot whatever it be, without
wishing what he has not, though, of the two, he had rather abound than
want. The great business of his life like that of nature, is performed
without tumult or noise. He neither fears danger or provokes it, but
it is his caution, not any want of courage—for captivity, wounds and
chains, he only looks upon as false and lymphatic terrors. He does not
pretend to go through with whatever he undertakes, but to do that well
which he does. Arts are but the servants—wisdom commands—and where the
matter fails it is none of the workman’s fault. He is cautelous in
doubtful cases, in prosperity temperate, and resolute in adversity,
still making the best of every condition and improving all occasions to
make them serviceable to his fate. Some accidents there are, which I
confess may affect him, but not overthrow him, as bodily pains, loss of
children and friends, the ruin and desolation of a man’s country. One
must be made of stone or iron, not to be sensible of these calamities;
and, beside, it were no virtue to _bear_ them, if a body did not _feel_
them.
There are _three degrees of proficients_ in the school of wisdom.
The _first_ are those that come within sight of it, but not up to
it—they have learned what they ought to do, but they have not put
their knowledge in practice—they are past the hazard of a relapse, but
they have still the grudges of a disease, though they are out of the
danger of it. By a disease I do understand an obstinacy in evil, or an
ill habit, that makes us over eager upon things which are either not
much to be desired, or not at all. A _second_ sort are those that have
subjected their appetites for a season, but are yet in fear of falling
back. A _third_ sort are those that are clear of many vices but not of
all. They are not covetous, but perhaps they are choleric—nor lustful,
but perchance ambitious; they are firm enough in some cases but weak
enough in others: there are many that despise death and yet shrink at
pain. There are diversities in wise men, but no inequalities—one is
more affable, another more ready, a third a better speaker; but the
felicity of them all is equal. It is in this as in heavenly bodies,
there is a _certain state_ in greatness.
In civil and domestic affairs, a wise man may stand in need of
counsel, as of a physician, an advocate, a solicitor; but in greater
matters, the blessing of wise men rests in the joy they take in the
communication of their virtues. If there were nothing else in it, a
man would apply himself to wisdom, because it settles him in a perfect
tranquillity of mind.