Cleo. The superiority of understanding, in the first place, makes man

sooner sensible of grief and joy, and capable of entertaining either

with greater difference as to the degrees, than they are felt in

other creatures: Secondly, it renders him more industrious to please

himself; that is, it furnishes self-love with a greater variety of

shifts to exert itself on all emergencies, than is made use of by

animals of less capacity. Superiority of understanding likewise gives

us a foresight, and inspires us with hopes, of which other creatures

have little, and that only of things immediately before them. All

these things are so many tools, arguments, by which self-love reasons

us into content, and renders us patient under many afflictions, for

the sake of supplying those wants that are most pressing: this is

of infinite use to a man, who finds himself born in a body politic,

and it must make him fond of society; whereas, the same endowment

before that time, the same superiority of understanding in the state

of nature, can only serve to render man incurably averse to society,

and more obstinately tenacious of his savage liberty, than any other

creature would be, that is equally necessitous.

Hor. I do not know how to refute you: there is a justness of thought

in what you say, which I am forced to assent to; and yet it seems

strange: How come you by this insight into the heart of man, and

which way is that skill of unravelling human nature to be obtained?

Cleo. By diligently observing what excellencies and qualifications

are really acquired in a well-accomplished man; and having done this

impartially, we may be sure that the remainder of him is nature. It

is for want of duly separating and keeping asunder these two things,

that men have uttered such absurdities on this subject; alleging as

the causes of man's fitness for society, such qualifications as no

man ever was endued with, that was not educated in a society, a civil

establishment, of several hundred years standing. But the flatterers

of our species keep this carefully from our view: instead of separating

what is acquired from what is natural, and distinguishing between them,

they take pains to unite and confound them together.

Hor. Why do they? I do not see the compliment; since the acquired,

as well as natural parts, belong to the same person; and the one is

not more inseparable from him than the other.

Cleo. Nothing is so near to a man, nor so really and entirely his own,

as what he has from nature; and when that dear self, for the sake of

which he values or despises, loves or hates every thing else, comes to

be stript and abstracted from all foreign acquisitions, human nature

makes a poor figure: it shows a nakedness, or at least an undress,

which no man cares to be seen in. There is nothing we can be possessed

of that is worth having, which we do not endeavour, closely to annex,

and make an ornament of to ourselves; even wealth and power, and all

the gifts of fortune, that are plainly adventitious, and altogether

remote from our persons; whilst they are our right and property, we

do not love to be considered without them. We see likewise that men,

who are come to be great in the world from despicable beginnings,

do not love to hear of their origin.

Hor. That is no general rule.

Cleo. I believe it is, though there may be exceptions from it; and

these are not without reasons. When a man is proud of his parts,

and wants to be esteemed for his diligence, penetration, quickness

and assiduity, he will make perhaps an ingenuous confession, even to

the exposing of his parents; and in order to set off the merit that

raised him, bespeaking himself of his original meanness. But this is

commonly done before inferiors, whose envy will be lessened by it,

and who will applaud his candour and humility in owning this blemish:

but not a word of this before his betters, who value themselves upon

their families; and such men could heartily wish that their parentage

was unknown, whenever they are with those that are their equals in

quality, though superior to them in birth; by whom they know that they

are hated for their advancement, and despised for the lowness of their

extraction. But I have a shorter way of proving my assertion. Pray,

is it good manners to tell a man that he is meanly born, or to hint

at his descent, when it is known to be vulgar?

Hor. No: I do not say it is.

Cleo. That decides it, by showing the general opinion about it. Noble

ancestors, and every thing else that is honourable and esteemed,

and can be drawn within our sphere, are an advantage to our persons,

and we all desire they should be looked upon as our own.

Hor. Ovid did not think so, when he said, Nam genus & proavos &

quæ non fecimus ipsi, vix ea nostra voco.

Cleo. A pretty piece of modesty in a speech, where a man takes pains to

prove that Jupiter was his great grandfather. What signifies a theory,

which a man destroys by his practice? Did you ever know a person of

quality pleased with being called a bastard, though he owed his being,

as well as his greatness, chiefly to his mother's impudicity?

Hor. By things acquired, I thought you meant learning and virtue;

how come you to talk of birth and descent?

Cleo. By showing you, that men are unwilling to have any thing that is

honourable separated from themselves, though it is remote from, and has

nothing to do with their persons: I would convince you of the little

probability there is, that we should be pleased with being considered,

abstract from what really belongs to us; and qualifications, that in

the opinion of the best and wisest are the only things for which we

ought to be valued. When men are well-accomplished, they are ashamed

of the lowest steps from which they rose to that perfection; and the

more civilized they are, the more they think it injurious to have

their nature seen, without the improvements that have been made upon

it. The most correct authors would blush to see every thing published,

which in the composing of their works they blotted out and stifled;

and which yet it is certain they once conceived: for this reason

they are justly compared to architects, that remove the scaffolding

before they show their buildings. All ornaments bespeak the value we

have for the things adorned. Do not you think, that the first red or

white that ever was laid upon a face, and the first false hair that

was wore, were put on with great secrecy, and with a design to deceive?

Hor. In France, painting is now looked upon as part of a woman's dress;

they make no mystery of it.

Cleo. So it is with all the impositions of this nature, when they come

to be so gross that they can be hid no longer; as men's perukes all

over Europe: but if these things could be concealed, and were not

known, the tawny coquette would heartily wish that the ridiculous

dawbing she plasters herself with might pass for complexion; and the

bald-pated beau would be as glad to have his full-bottomed wig looked

upon as a natural head of hair. Nobody puts in artificial teeth,

but to hide the loss of his own.

Hor. But is not a man's knowledge a real part of himself?

Cleo. Yes, and so is his politeness; but neither of them belong

to his nature, any more than his gold watch or his diamond ring;

and even from these he endeavours to draw a value and respect to

his person. The most admired among the fashionable people that

delight in outward vanity, and know how to dress well, would be

highly displeased if their clothes, and skill in putting them on,

should be looked upon otherwise than as part of themselves; nay,

it is this part of them only, which, whilst they are unknown, can

procure them access to the highest companies, the courts of princes;

where it is manifest, that both sexes are either admitted or refused,

by no other judgment than what is formed of them from their dress,

without the least regard to their goodness, or their understanding.

Hor. I believe I apprehend you. It is our fondness of that self, which

we hardly know what it consists in, that could first make us think of

embellishing our persons; and when we have taken pains in correcting,

polishing, and beautifying nature, the same self-love makes us

unwilling to have the ornaments seen separately from the thing adorned.

Cleo. The reason is obvious. It is that self we are in love with,

before it is adorned, as well as after, and every thing which is

confessed to be acquired, seems to point at our original nakedness,

and to upbraid us with our natural wants; I would say, the meanness

and deficiency of our nature. That no bravery is so useful in war, as

that which is artificial, is undeniable; yet the soldier, that by art

and discipline has manifestly been tricked and wheedled into courage,

after he has behaved himself in two or three battles with intrepidity,

will never endure to hear that he has not natural valour; though all

his acquaintance, as well as himself, remember the time that he was

an arrant coward.

Hor. But since the love, affection, and benevolence we naturally have

for our species, is not greater than other creatures have for theirs,

how comes it, that man gives more ample demonstrations of this love

on thousand occasions, than any other animal?

Cleo. Because no other animal has the same capacity or opportunity to

do it. But you may ask the same of his hatred: the greater knowledge

and the more wealth and power a man has, the more capable he is

of rendering others sensible of the passion he is affected with,

as well when he hates as when he loves them. The more a man remains

uncivilized, and the less he is removed from the state of nature,

the less his love is to be depended upon.

Hor. There is more honesty and less deceit among plain, untaught

people, than there is among those that are more artful; and therefore I

should have looked for true love and unfeigned affection among those

that live in a natural simplicity, rather than any where else.

Cleo. You speak of sincerity; but the love which I said was less to

be depended upon in untaught than in civilized people, I supposed to

be real and sincere in both. Artful people may dissemble love, and

pretend to friendship, where they have none; but they are influenced by

their passions and natural appetites as well as savages, though they

gratify them in another manner: well-bred people behave themselves in

the choice of diet and the taking of their repasts, very differently

from savages; so they do in their amours; but hunger and lust are the

same in both. An artful man, nay, the greatest hypocrite, whatever

his behaviour is abroad, may love his wife and children at his heart,

and the sincerest man can do no more. My business is to demonstrate

to you, that the good qualities men compliment our nature and the

whole species with, are the result of art and education. The reason

why love is little to be depended upon in those that are uncivilized,

is because the passions in them are more fleeting and inconstant;

they oftener jostle out and succeed one another, than they are and

do in well-bred people, persons that are well educated, have learned

to study their ease and the comforts of life; to tie themselves

up to rules and decorums for their own advantage, and often to

submit to small inconveniencies to avoid greater. Among the lowest

vulgar, and those of the meanest education of all, you seldom see a

lasting harmony: you shall have a man and his wife that have a real

affection for one another, be full of love one hour, and disagree

the next for a trifle; and the lives of many are made miserable

from no other faults in themselves, than their want of manners and

discretion. Without design they will often talk imprudently, until

they raise one another's anger; which neither of them being able to

stifle, she scolds at him; he beats her; she bursts out into tears;

this moves him, he is sorry; both repent, and are friends again:

and with all the sincerity imaginable resolve never to quarrel for

the future, as long as they live: all this will pass between them

in less than half a day, and will perhaps be repeated once a month,

or oftener, as provocations offer, or either of them is more or less

prone to anger. Affection never remained long uninterrupted between

two persons without art; and the best friends, if they are always

together, will fall out, unless great discretion be used on both sides.

Hor. I have always been of your opinion, that the more men were

civilized the happier they were; but since nations can never be

made polite but by length of time, and mankind must have been always

miserable before they had written laws, how come poets and others to

launch out so much in praise of the golden age, in which they pretend

there was so much peace, love, and sincerity?

Cleo. For the same reason that heralds compliment obscure men of

unknown extraction with illustrious pedigrees: as there is no mortal

of high descent, but who values himself upon his family, so extolling

the virtue and happiness of their ancestors, can never fail pleasing

every member of a society: but what stress would you lay upon the

fictions of poets?

Hor. You reason very clearly, and with great freedom, against all

heathen superstition, and never suffer yourself to be imposed upon

by any fraud from that quarter; but when you meet with any thing

belonging to the Jewish or Christian religion, you are as credulous

as any of the vulgar.

Cleo. I am sorry you should think so.

Hor. What I say is fact. A man that contentedly swallows every thing

that is said of Noah and his ark, ought not to laugh at the story of

Deucalion and Pyrrha.

Cleo. Is it as credible, that human creatures should spring from

stones, because an old man and his wife threw them over their heads,

as that a man and his family, with a great number of birds and beasts,

should be preserved in a large ship, made convenient for that purpose?

Hor. But you are partial: what odds is there between a stone and

a lump of earth, for either of them to become a human creature? I

can as easily conceive how a stone should be turned into a man or

a woman, as how a man or a woman should be turned into a stone; and

I think it not more strange, that a woman should be changed into a

tree, as was Daphne, or into marble as Niobe, than that she should

be transformed into a pillar of salt, as the wife of Lot was. Pray

suffer me to catechise you a little.

Cleo. You will hear me afterwards, I hope.

Hor. Yes, yes. Do you believe Hesiod?

Cleo. No.

Hor. Ovid's Metamorphosis?

Cleo. No.

Hor. But you believe the story of Adam and Eve, and Paradise.

Cleo. Yes.

Hor. That they were produced at once, I mean at their full growth;

he from a lump of earth, and she from one of his ribs?

Cleo. Yes.

Hor. And that as soon as they were made, they could speak, reason,

and were endued with knowledge?

Cleo. Yes.

Hor. In short, you believe the innocence, the delight, and all the

wonders of Paradise, that are related by one man; at the same time that

you will not believe what has been told us by many, of the uprightness,

the concord, and the happiness of a golden age.

Cleo. That is very true.

Hor. Now give me leave to show you, how unaccountable, as well as

partial, you are in this. In the first place, the things naturally

impossible, which you believe, are contrary to your own doctrine,

the opinion you have laid down, and which I believe to be true:

for you have proved, that no man would ever be able to speak, unless

he was taught it; that reasoning and thinking come upon us by slow

degrees; and that we can know nothing that has not from without been

conveyed to the brain, and communicated to us through the organs of

the senses. Secondly, in what you reject as fabulous, there is no

manner of improbability. We know from history, and daily experience

teaches us, that almost all the wars and private quarrels that have at

any time disturbed mankind, have had their rise from the differences

about superiority, and the meum & tuum: therefore before cunning,

covetousness and deceit, crept into the world; before titles of honour,

and the distinction between servant and master were known; why might

not moderate numbers of people have lived together in peace and amity,

when they enjoyed every thing in common; and have been content with

the product of the earth in a fertile soil and a happy climate? Why

cannot you believe this?

Cleo. Because it is inconsistent with the nature of human creatures,

that any number of them should ever live together in tolerable concord,

without laws or government, let the soil, the climate, and their plenty

be whatever the most luxuriant imagination shall be pleased to fancy

them. But Adam was altogether the workmanship of God; a preternatural

production: his speech and knowledge, his goodness and innocence were

as miraculous, as every other part of his frame.

Hor. Indeed, Cleomenes, this is insufferable; when we are talking

philosophy you foist in miracles: why may not I do the same, and lay

that the people of the golden age were made happy by miracle?

Cleo. It is more probable that one miracle should, at a stated time,

have produced a male and female, from whom all the rest of mankind are

descended in a natural way; than that by a continued series of miracles

several generations of people should have all been made to live and

act contrary to their nature; for this must follow from the account we

have of the golden and silver ages. In Moses, the first natural man,

the first that was born of a woman, by envying and slaying his brother,

gives an ample evidence of the domineering spirit, and the principle

of sovereignty, which I have asserted to belong to our nature.

Hor. You will not be counted credulous, and yet you believe all those

stories, which even some of our divines have called ridiculous,

if literally understood. But I do not insist upon the golden age,

if you will give up Paradise: a man of sense, and a philosopher,

should believe neither.

Cleo. Yet you have told me that you believed the Old and New Testament.

Hor. I never said that I believed every thing that is in them, in a

literal sense. But why should you believe miracles at all?

Cleo. Because I cannot help it: and I promise never to mention the name

to you again, if you can show me the bare possibility that man could

ever have been produced, brought into the world without miracle. Do

you believe there ever was a man who had made himself?

Hor. No: that is a plain contradiction.

Cleo. Then it is manifest the first man must have been made by

something; and what I say of man, I may say of all matter and motion

in general. The doctrine of Epicurus, that every thing is derived

from the concourse and fortuitous jumble of atoms, is monstrous and

extravagant beyond all other follies.

Hor. Yet there is no mathematical demonstration against it.

Cleo. Nor is there one to prove, that the sun is not in love with

the moon, if one had a mind to advance it; and yet I think it a

greater reproach to human understanding to believe either, than it

is to believe the most childish stories that are told of fairies

and hobgoblins.

Hor. But there is an axiom very little inferior to a mathematical

demonstration, ex nihilo nihil fit, that is directly clashing with,

and contradicts the creation out of nothing. Do you understand how

something can come from nothing?

Cleo. I do not, I confess, any more than I can comprehend eternity, or

the Deity itself: but when I cannot comprehend what my reason assures

me must necessarily exist, there is no axiom or demonstration clearer

to me, than that the fault lies in my want of capacity, the shallowness

of my understanding. From the little we know of the sun and stars,

their magnitudes, distances, and motion; and what we are more nearly

acquainted with, the gross visible parts in the structure of animals

and their economy, it is demonstrable, that they are the effects of an

intelligent cause, and the contrivance of a Being infinite in wisdom

as well as power.

Hor. But let wisdom be as superlative, and power as extensive as it

is possible for them to be, still it is impossible to conceive how

they should exert themselves, unless they had something to act upon.

Cleo. This is not the only thing which, though it be true, we are not

able to conceive: How came the first man to exist? and yet here we

are. Heat and moisture are the plain effects from manifest causes,

and though they bear a great sway, even in the mineral as well as

the animal and vegetable world, yet they cannot produce a sprig of

grass without a previous seed.

Hor. As we ourselves, and every thing we see, are the undoubted parts

of some one whole, some are of opinion, that this all, the to pan,

the universe, was from all eternity.

Cleo. This is not more satisfactory or comprehensible than the

system of Epicurus, who derives every thing from wild chance, and an

undesigned struggle of senseless atoms. When we behold things which

our reason tells us could not have been produced without wisdom and

power, in a degree far beyond our comprehension, can any thing be more

contrary to, or clashing with that same reason, than that the things

in which that high wisdom and great power are visibly displayed,

should be coeval with the wisdom and power themselves that contrived

and wrought them? Yet this doctrine which is spinosism in epitome,

after having been neglected many years, begins to prevail again,

and the atoms lose ground: for of atheism, as well as superstition,

there are different kinds that have their periods and returns, after

they have been long exploded.

Hor. What makes you couple together two things so diametrically

opposite?

Cleo. There is greater affinity between them than you imagine: they

are of the same origin.

Hor. What, atheism and superstition!

Cleo. Yes, indeed; they both have their rise from the same cause,

the same defect in the mind of man, our want of capacity in discerning

truth, and natural ignorance of the Divine essence. Men that from their

most early youth have not been imbued with the principles of the true

religion, and have not afterwards continued to be strictly educated

in the same, are all in great danger of falling either into the one

or the other, according to the difference there is in the temperament

and complexion they are of, the circumstances they are in, and the

company they converse with. Weak minds, and those that are brought

up in ignorance, and a low condition, such as are much exposed to

fortune, men of slavish principles, the covetous and mean-spirited,

are all naturally inclined to, and easily susceptible of superstition;

and there is no absurdity so gross, nor contradiction so plain, which

the dregs of the people, most gamesters, and nineteen women in twenty,

may not be taught to believe, concerning invisible causes. Therefore

multitudes are never tainted with irreligion; and the less civilized

nations are, the more boundless is their credulity. On the contrary,

men of parts and spirit, of thought and reflection, the assertors

of liberty, such as meddle with mathematics and natural philosophy,

most inquisitive men, the disinterested that live in ease and plenty;

if their youth has been neglected, and they are not well-grounded

in the principles of the true religion, are prone to infidelity;

especially such amongst them, whose pride and sufficiency are

greater than ordinary; and if persons of this sort fall into hands

of unbelievers, they run great hazard of becoming atheists or sceptics.

Hor. The method of education you recommend, in pinning men down to

an opinion, may be very good to make bigots, and raise a strong party

to the priests; but to have good subjects, and moral men, nothing is

better than to inspire youth with the love of virtue, and strongly to

imbue them with sentiments of justice and probity, and the true notions

of honour and politeness. These are the true specifics to cure man's

nature, and destroy in him the savage principles of sovereignty and

selfishness, that infest and are so mischievous to it. As to religious

matters, prepossessing the mind, and forcing youth into a belief,

is more partial and unfair, than it is to leave them unbiassed, and

unprejudiced till they come to maturity, and are fit to judge as well

as choose for themselves.

Cleo. It is this fair and impartial management you speak in praise

of, that will ever promote and increase unbelief; and nothing has

contributed more to the growth of deism in this kingdom, than the

remissness of education in sacred matters, which for some time has

been in fashion among the better sort.

Hor. The public welfare ought to be our principal care; and I am well

assured, that it is not bigotry to a sect or persuasion; but common

honesty, uprightness in all dealings, and benevolence to one another,

which the society stands most in need of.

Cleo. I do not speak up for bigotry; and where the Christian religion

is thoroughly taught as it should be, it is impossible, that honesty,

uprightness or benevolence should ever be forgot; and no appearances

of those virtues are to be trusted to, unless they proceed from that

motive; for without the belief of another world, a man is under no

obligation for his sincerity in this: his very oath is no tie upon him.

Hor. What is it upon an hypocrite that dares to be perjured?

Cleo. No man's oath is ever taken, if it is known that once he has

been forsworn; nor can I ever be deceived by an hypocrite, when he

tells me that he is one; and I shall never believe a man to be an

atheist, unless he owns it himself.

Hor. I do not believe there are real atheists in the world.

Cleo. I will not quarrel about words; but our modern deism is no

greater security than atheism: for a man's acknowledging the being

of a God, even an intelligent first Cause, is of no use, either to

himself or others, if he denies, a Providence and a future state.

Hor. After all, I do not think that virtue has any more relation to

credulity, than it has to want of faith.

Cleo. Yet it would and ought to have, if we were consistent with

ourselves; and if men were swayed in their actions by the principles

they side with, and the opinion they profess themselves to be of,

all atheists would be devils, and superstitious men saints: but this

is not true; there are atheists of good morals, and great villains

superstitious: nay, I do not believe there is any wickedness that the

worst atheist can commit, but superstitious men may be guilty of it;

impiety not excepted; for nothing is more common amongst rakes and

gamesters, than to hear men blaspheme, that believe in spirits, and

are afraid of the devil. I have no greater opinion of superstition

than I have of atheism; what I aimed at, was to prevent and guard

against both; and I am persuaded that there is no other antidote

to be obtained by human means, so powerful and infallible against

the poison of either, as what I have mentioned. As to the truth of

our descent from Adam, I would not be a believer, and cease to be a

rational creature: what I have to say for it, is this. We are convinced

that human understanding is limited; and by the help of every little

reflection, we may be as certain that the narrowness of its bounds,

its being so limited, is the very thing, the sole cause, which palpably

hinders us from diving into our origin by dint of penetration: the

consequence is, that to come at the truth of this origin, which is

of very great concern to us, something is to be believed: but what

or whom to believe is the question. If I cannot demonstrate to you

that Moses was divinely inspired, you will be forced to confess,

that there never was any thing more extraordinary in the world,

than that, in a most superstitious age, one man brought up among the

grossest idolaters, that had the vilest and most abominable notions

of the Godhead, should, without help, as we know of, find out the

most hidden and most important truths by his natural capacity only;

for, besides the deep insight he had in human nature, as appears

from the decalogue, it is manifest that he was acquainted with the

creation out of nothing, the unity and immense greatness of that

Invisible Power that has made the universe; and that he taught this

to the Israelites, fifteen centuries before any other nation upon

earth was so far enlightened: it is undeniable, moreover, that the

history of Moses, concerning the beginning of the world and mankind,

is the most ancient and least improbable of any that are extant; that

others, who have wrote after him on the same subject, appear most of

them to be imperfect copiers of him; and that the relations which

seem not to have been borrowed from Moses, as the accounts we have

of Sommona-codam, Confucius, and others, are less rational, and fifty

times more extravagant and incredible, than any thing contained in the

Pentateuch. As to the things revealed, the plan itself, abstract from

faith and religion; when we have weighed every system that has been

advanced, we shall find; that, since we must have had a beginning,

nothing is more rational or more agreeable to good sense, than to

derive our origin from an incomprehensible creative Power, that was

the first Mover and Author of all things.

Hor. I never heard any body entertain higher notions, or more noble

sentiments of the Deity, than at different times I have heard from

you; pray, when you read Moses, do not you meet with several things in

the economy of Paradise, and the conversation between God and Adam,

that seem to be low, unworthy, and altogether inconsistent with the

sublime ideas you are used to form of the Supreme Being.

Cleo. I freely own, not only that I have thought so, but likewise

that I have long stumbled at it: but when I consider, on the one

hand, that the more human knowledge increases, the more consummate

and unerring the Divine Wisdom appears to be, in every thing we can

have any insight into; and on the other, that the things hitherto

detected, either by chance or industry, are very inconsiderable both

in number and value, if compared to the vast multitude of weightier

matters that are left behind and remain still undiscovered: When,

I say, I consider these things, I cannot help thinking, that there

may be very wise reasons for what we find fault with, that are,

and perhaps ever will be, unknown to men as long the world endures.

Hor. But why should he remain labouring under difficulties we can

easily solve, and not say with Dr. Burnet, and several others, that

those things are allegories, and to be understood in a figurative

sense?

Cleo. I have nothing against it; and shall always applaud the ingenuity

and good offices of men, who endeavour to reconcile religious mysteries

to human reason and probability; but I insist upon it, that nobody

can disprove any thing that is said in the Pentateuch, in the most

literal sense; and I defy the wit of man to frame or contrive a story,

the best concerted fable they can invent, how man came into the world,

which I shall not find as much fault with, and be able to make as

strong objections to, as the enemies of religion have found with, and

raised against the account of Moses: If I may be allowed to take the

same liberty with their known forgery, which they take with the Bible,

before they have brought one argument against the veracity of it.

Hor. It may be so. But as first I was the occasion of this long

digression, by mentioning the golden age; so now, I desire we may

return to our subject. What time, how many ages do you think it

would require to have a well-civilized nation from such a savage pair

as yours?

Cleo. That is very uncertain; and I believe it impossible, to determine

any thing about it. From what has been said, it is manifest, that the

family descending from such a stock, would be crumbled to pieces,

reunited, and dispersed again several times, before the whole of

any part of it could be advanced to any degree of politeness. The

best forms of government are subject to revolutions, and a great many

things must concur to keep a society of men together, till they become

a civilized nation.

Hor. Is not a vast deal owing, in the raising of a nation, to the

difference there is in the spirit and genius of people?

Cleo. Nothing, but what depends upon climates, which is soon

over-balanced by skilful government. Courage and cowardice, in all

bodies of men, depend entirely upon exercise and discipline. Arts

and sciences seldom come before riches, and both flow in faster or

slower, according to the capacity of the governors, the situation of

the people, and the opportunities they have of improvements; but the

first is the chief: to preserve peace and tranquillity among multitudes

of different views, and make them all labour for one interest, is a

great task; and nothing in human affairs requires greater knowledge,

than the art of governing.

Hor. According to your system, it should be little more, than guarding

against human nature.

Cleo. But it is a great while before that nature can be rightly

understood; and it is the work of ages to find out the true use of

the passions, and to raise a politician that can make every frailty of

the members add strength to the whole body, and by dextrous management

turn private Vices into public Benefits.

Hor. It must be a great advantage to an age, when many extraordinary

persons are born in it.

Cleo. It is not genius, so much as experience, that helps men to

good laws: Solon, Lycurgus, Socrates and Plato, all travelled for

their knowledge, which they communicated to others. The wisest laws

of human invention are generally owing to the evasions of bad men,

whose cunning had eluded the force of former ordinances that had been

made with less caution.

Hor. I fancy that the invention of iron, and working the oar into

a metal, must contribute very much to the completing of society;

because men can have no tools nor agriculture without it.

Cleo. Iron is certainly very useful; but shells and flints, and

hardening of wood by fire, are substitutes that men make a shift with;

if they can but have peace, live in quiet, and enjoy the fruits of

their labour. Could you ever have believed, that a man without hands

could have shaved himself, wrote good characters, and made use of a

needle and thread with his feet? Yet this we have seen. It is said

by some men of reputation, that the Americans in Mexico and Peru

have all the signs of an infant world; because, when the Europeans

first came among them, they wanted a great many things, that seem to

be of easy invention. But considering that they had nobody to borrow

from, and no iron at all, it is amazing which way they could arrive

at the perfection we found them in. First, it is impossible to know,

how long multitudes may have been troublesome to one another, before

the invention of letters came among them, and they had any written

laws. Secondly, from the many chasms in history, we know by experience,

that the accounts of transactions and times in which letters are

known, may be entirely lost. Wars and human discord may destroy

the most civilized nations, only by dispersing them; and general

devastations spare arts and sciences no more than they do cities and

palaces. That all men are born with a strong desire, and no capacity at

all to govern, has occasioned an infinity of good and evil. Invasions

and persecutions, by mixing and scattering our species, have made

strange alterations in the world. Sometimes large empires are divided

into several parts, and produce new kingdoms and principalities;

at others, great conquerors in few years bring different nations

under one dominion. From the decay of the Roman empire alone we may

learn, that arts and sciences are more perishable, much sooner lost,

than buildings or inscriptions; and that a deluge of ignorance may

overspread countries, without their ceasing to be inhabited.

Hor. But what is it at last, that raises opulent cities and powerful

nations from the smallest beginnings?

Cleo. Providence.

Hor. But Providence makes use of means that are visible; I want to

know the engines it is performed with.

Cleo. All the ground work that is required to aggrandize nations,

you have seen in the Fable of the Bees. All sound politics, and the

whole art of governing, are entirely built upon the knowledge of human

nature. The great business in general of a politician is to promote,

and, if he can, reward all good and useful actions on the one hand;

and on the other, to punish, or at least discourage every thing that

is destructive or hurtful to society. To name particulars would be an

endless task. Anger, lust, and pride, may be the causes of innumerable

mischiefs, that are all carefully to be guarded against: but setting

them aside, the regulations only that are required to defeat and

prevent all the machinations and contrivances that avarice and envy

may put man upon, to the detriment of his neighbour, are almost

infinite. Would you be convinced of these truths, do but employ

yourself for a month or two, in surveying and minutely examining

into every art and science, every trade, handicraft and occupation,

that are professed and followed in such a city as London; and all

the laws, prohibitions, ordinances and restrictions that have been

found absolutely necessary, to hinder both private men and bodies

corporate, in so many different stations, first from interfering

with the public peace and welfare; secondly, from openly wronging

and secretly over-reaching, or any other way injuring one another:

if you will give yourself this trouble, you will find the number of

clauses and provisos, to govern a large flourishing city well, to be

prodigious beyond imagination; and yet every one of them tending to

the same purpose, the curbing, restraining, and disappointing the

inordinate passions, and hurtful frailties of man. You will find,

moreover, which is still more to be admired, the greater part of the

articles in this vast multitude of regulations, when well understood,

to be the result of consummate wisdom.

Hor. How could these things exist, if there had not been men of very

bright parts and uncommon talents?

Cleo. Among the things I hint at, there are very few that are

the work of one man, or of one generation; the greatest part of

them are the product, the joint labour of several ages. Remember

what in our third conversation I told you, concerning the arts of

ship-building and politeness. The wisdom I speak of, is not the

offspring of a fine understanding, or intense thinking, but of sound

and deliberate judgment, acquired from a long experience in business,

and a multiplicity of observations. By this sort of wisdom, and length

of time, it may be brought about, that there shall be no greater

difficulty in governing a large city, than (pardon the lowness of

the simile) there is in weaving of stockings.

Hor. Very low indeed.

Cleo. Yet I know nothing to which the laws and established

economy of a well ordered city may be more justly compared, than

the knitting-frame. The machine, at first view, is intricate and

unintelligible; yet the effects of it are exact and beautiful; and

in what is produced by it, there is a surprising regularity: but

the beauty and exactness in the manufacture are principally, if not

altogether, owing to the happiness of the invention, the contrivance

of the engine. For the greatest artist at it can furnish us with no

better work, than may be made by almost any scoundrel after half a

year's practice.

Hor. Though your comparison be low, I must own that it very well

illustrates your meaning.

Cleo. Whilst you spoke, I have thought of another, which is better. It

is common now, to have clocks that are made to play several tunes

with great exactness: the study and labour, as well as trouble of

disappointments, which, in doing and undoing, such a contrivance

must necessarily have cost from the beginning to the end, are not

to be thought of without astonishment; there is something analogous

to this in the government of a flourishing city, that has lasted

uninterrupted for several ages: there is no part of the wholesome

regulations belonging to it, even the most trifling and minute,

about which great pains and consideration have not been employed,

as well as length of time; and if you will look into the history

and antiquity of any such city, you will find that the changes,

repeals, additions and amendments, that have been made in and to the

laws and ordinances by which it is ruled, are in number prodigious:

but that when once they are brought to as much perfection as art and

human wisdom can carry them, the whole machine may be made to play

of itself, with as little skill as it required to wind up a clock;

and the government of a large city once put into good order, the

magistrates only following their noses, will continue to go right for

a while, though there was not a wise man in it; provided that the care

of Providence was to watch over it in the same manner as it did before.

Hor. But supposing the government of a large city, when it is once

established, to be very easy, it is not so with whole states and

kingdoms: is it not a great blessing to a nation, to have all places

of honour and great trust filled with men of parts and application,

of probity and virtue?

Cleo. Yes; and of learning, moderation, frugality, candour and

affability: look out for such as fast as you can; but in the mean time

the places cannot stand open, the offices must be served by such as

you can get.

Hor. You seem to insinuate, that there is a great scarcity of good

men in the nation.

Cleo. I do not speak of our nation in particular, but of all states

and kingdoms in general. What I would say, is, that it is the interest

of every nation to have their home government, and every branch of the

civil administration so wisely contrived, that every man of middling

capacity and reputation may be fit for any of the highest posts.

Hor. That is absolutely impossible, at least in such a nation as ours:

for what would you do for judges and chancellors?

Cleo. The study of the law is very crabbed and very tedious; but the

profession of it is as gainful, and has great honours annexed to it:

the consequence of this is, that few come to be eminent in it, but

men of tolerable parts and great application. And whoever is a good

lawyer, and not noted for dishonesty, is always fit to be a judge, as

soon as he is old and grave enough. To be a lord chancellor, indeed,

requires higher talents; and he ought not only to be a good lawyer

and an honest man, but likewise a person of general knowledge and

great penetration. But this is but one man: and considering what I

have said of the law, and the power which ambition and the love of

gain have upon mankind, it is morally impossible, that, in the common

course of things among the practitioners in chancery, there should

not at all times be one or other fit for the seals.

Hor. Must not every nation have men that are fit for public

negotiations, and persons of great capacity to serve for envoys,

ambassadors and plenipotentiaries? must they not have others at home,

that are likewise able to treat with foreign ministers?

Cleo. That every nation must have such people, is certain; but

I wonder that the company you have kept both at home and abroad,

have not convinced you that the things you speak of require no such

extraordinary qualifications. Among the people of quality that are

bred up in courts of princes, all middling capacities must be persons

of address, and a becoming boldness, which are the most useful talents

in all conferences and negotiations.

Hor. In a nation so involved in debts of different kinds, and loaded

with such a variety of taxes as ours is, to be thoroughly acquainted

with all the funds, and the appropriations of them, must be a science

not to be attained to without good natural parts and great application;

and therefore the chief management of the treasury must be a post of

the highest trust, as well as endless difficulty.

Cleo. I do not think so: most branches of the public administration are

in reality less difficult to those that are in them, than they seem to

be to those that are out of them, and are strangers to them. If a jack

and the weights of it were out of sight, a sensible man unacquainted

with that matter, would be very much puzzled, if he was to account

for the regular turning of two or three spits well loaded, for hours

together; and it is ten to one, but he would have a greater opinion

of the cook or the scullion, than either of them deserved. In all

business that belong to the exchequer, the constitution does nine

parts in ten; and has taken effectual care, that the happy person

whom the king shall be pleased to favour with the superintendency

of it, should never be greatly tired or perplexed with his office;

and likewise that the trust, the confidence that must be reposed in

him, should be very near as moderate as his trouble. By dividing

the employments in a great office, and subdividing them into many

parts, every man's business may be made so plain and certain, that,

when he is a little used to it, it is hardly possible for him to make

mistakes: and again, by careful limitations of every man's power, and

judicious checks upon every body's trust, every officer's fidelity

may be placed in so clear a light, that the moment he forfeits it,

he must be detected. It is by these arts that the weightiest affairs,

and a vast multiplicity of them, may be managed with safety as well as

dispatch, by ordinary men, whose highest good is wealth and pleasure;

and that the utmost regularity may be observed in a great office,

and every part of it; at the same time, that the whole economy of

it seems to be intricate and perplexed to the last degree, not only

to strangers, but the greatest part of the very officers that are

employed in it.

Hor. The economy of our exchequer, I own, is an admirable contrivance

to prevent frauds and encroachments of all kinds; but in the office,

which is at the head of it, and gives motion to it, there is greater

latitude.

Cleo. Why so? A lord treasurer, or if his office be executed by

commissioners, the chancellor of the exchequer, are no more lawless,

and have no greater power with impunity to embezzle money, than the

meanest clerk that is employed under them.

Hor. Is not the king's warrant their discharge?

Cleo. Yes; for sums which the king has a right to dispose of, or

the payment of money for uses directed by parliament; not otherwise;

and if the king, who can do no wrong, should be imposed upon, and his

warrant be obtained for money at random, whether it is appropriated

or not, contrary to, or without a direct order of the legislature,

the treasurer obeys at his peril.

Hor. But there are other posts, or at least there is one still of

higher moment, and that requires a much greater, and more general

capacity than any yet named.

Cleo. Pardon me: as the lord chancellor's is the highest office in

dignity, so the execution of it actually demands greater, and more

uncommon abilities than any other whatever.

Hor. What say you to the prime minister who governs all, and acts

immediately under the king?

Cleo. There is no such officer belonging to our constitution; for

by this, the whole administration is, for very wise reasons, divided

into several branches.

Hor. But who must give orders and instructions to admirals, generals,

governors, and all our ministers in foreign courts? Who is to take

care of the king's interest throughout the kingdom, and of his safety?

Cleo. The king and his council, without which, royal authority is not

supposed to act, superintend, and govern all; and whatever the monarch

has not a mind immediately to take care of himself, falls in course

to that part of the administration it belongs to, in which every body

has plain laws to walk by. As to the king's interest, it is the same

with that of the nation; his guards are to take care of his person;

and there is no business of what nature soever, that can happen in

or to the nation, which is not within the province, and under the

inspection of some one or other of the great officers of the crown,

that are all known, dignified, and distinguished by their respective

titles; and amongst them, I can assure you, there is no such name as

prime minister.

Hor. But why will you prevaricate with me after this manner? You

know yourself, and all the world knows and sees, that there is such

a minister; and it is easily proved, that there always have been

such ministers: and in the situation we are, I do not believe a king

could do without. When there are a great many disaffected people in

the kingdom, and parliament-men are to be chosen, elections must be

looked after with great care, and a thousand things are to be done,

that are necessary to disappoint the sinister ends of malecontents,

and keep out the Pretender; things of which the management often

requires great penetration, and uncommon talents, as well as secrecy

and dispatch.

Cleo. How sincerely soever you may seem to speak in defence of these

things, Horatio, I am sure, from your principles, that you are not

in earnest. I am not to judge of the exigency of our affairs: But

as I would not pry into the conduct, or scan the actions of princes,

and their ministers, so I pretend to justify or defend no wisdom but

that of the constitution itself.

Hor. I do not desire you should: Only tell me, whether you do not

think, that a man, who has and can carry this vast burden upon his

shoulders, and all Europe's business in his breast, must be a person

of a prodigious genius, as well as general knowledge, and other

great abilities.

Cleo. That a man, invested with so much real power, and an authority so

extensive, as such ministers generally have, must make a great figure,

and be considerable above all other subjects, is most certain: But

it is my opinion, that there are always fifty men in the kingdom,

that, if employed, would be fit for this post, and, after a little

practice, shine in it, to one who is equally qualified to be a

Lord High Chancellor of Great Britain. A prime minster has a vast,

an unspeakable advantage barely by being so, and by every body's

knowing him to be, and treating him as such: A man who in every office,

and every branch of it throughout the administration, has the power,

as well as the liberty, to ask and see whom and what he pleases, has

more knowledge within his reach, and can speak of every thing with

greater exactness than any other man, that is much better versed in

affairs, and has ten times greater capacity. It is hardly possible,

than an active man, of tolerable education, that is not destitute

of a spirit nor of vanity, should fail of appearing to be wise,

vigilant, and expert, who has the opportunity whenever he thinks fit,

to make use of all the cunning and experience, as well as diligence and

labour of every officer in the civil administration; and if he has but

money enough, and will employ men to keep up a strict correspondence

in every part of the kingdom, he can remain ignorant of nothing;

and there is hardly any affair or transaction, civil or military,

foreign or domestic, which he will not be able greatly to influence,

when he has a mind either to promote or obstruct it.

Hor. There seems to be a great deal in what you say, I must confess;

but I begin to suspect, that what often inclines me to be of your

opinion, is your dexterity in placing things in the light you would

have seen them in, and the great skill you have in depreciating what

is valuable, and detracting from merit.

Cleo. I protest that I speak from my heart.

Hor. When I reflect on what I have beheld with my own eyes, and

what I still see every day of the transactions between statesmen

and politicians, I am very well assured you are in the wrong: When I

consider all the stratagems, and the force as well as finesse that are

made use of to supplant and undo prime ministers, the wit and cunning,

industry and address, that are employed to misrepresent all their

actions, the calumnies and false reports that are spread of them,

the ballads and lampoons that are published, the set speeches and

studied invectives that are made against them; when I consider, I say,

and reflect on these things, and every thing else that is said and

done, either to ridicule or to render them odious, I am convinced,

that to defeat so much art and strength, and disappoint so much

malice and envy as prime ministers are generally attacked with,

require extraordinary talents: No man of only common prudence and

fortitude could maintain himself in that post for a twelvemonth,

much less for many years together, though he understood the world

very well, and had all the virtue, faithfulness, and integrity in it;

therefore, there must be some fallacy in your assertion.

Cleo. Either I have been deficient in explaining myself or else

I have had the misfortune to be misunderstood. When I insinuated

that men might be prime ministers without extraordinary endowments,

I spoke only in regard to the business itself, that province, which,

if there was no such minister, the king and council would have the

trouble of managing.

Hor. To direct and manage the whole machine of government, he must

be a consummate statesman in the first place.

Cleo. You have too sublime a notion of that post. To be a consummate

statesman, is the highest qualification human nature is capable of

possessing. To deserve that name, a man must be well versed in ancient

and modern history, and thoroughly acquainted with all the courts of

Europe, that he may know not only the public interest in every nation,

but likewise the private views, as well as inclinations, virtues,

and vices of princes and ministers: Of every country in Christendom,

and the borders of it, he ought to know the product and geography,

the principal cities and fortresses; and of these their trade and

manufactures, their situation, natural advantages, strength, and

number of inhabitants; he must have read men as well as books, and

perfectly well understand human nature, and the use of the passions:

He must, moreover, be a great master in concealing the sentiments

of his heart, have an entire command over his features, and be well

skilled in all the wiles and stratagems to draw out secrets from

others. A man, of whom all this, or the greatest part of it, may not

be said with truth, and that he has had great experience in public

affairs, cannot be called a consummate statesman; but he may be fit

to be a prime minister, though he had not a hundredth part of those

qualifications. As the king's favour creates prime ministers, and

makes their station the post of the greatest power as well as profit,

so the same favour is the only bottom which those that are in it have

to stand upon: The consequence is, that the most ambitious men in all

monarchies are ever contending for this post as the highest prize,

of which the enjoyment is easy, and all the difficulty in obtaining

and preserving it. We see accordingly, that the accomplishments I

spoke of to make a statesman are neglected, and others aimed at

and studied, that are more useful and more easily acquired. The

capacities you observe in prime ministers are of another nature, and

consist in being finished courtiers, and thoroughly understanding the

art of pleasing and cajoling with address. To procure a prince what

he wants, when it is known, and to be diligent in entertaining him

with the pleasures he calls for, are ordinary services: Asking is no

better than complaining; therefore, being forced to ask, is to have

cause of complaint, and to see a prince submit to the slavery of it,

argues great rusticity in his courtiers; a polite minister penetrates

into his master's wishes, and furnishes him with what he delights in,

without giving him the trouble to name it. Every common flatterer

can praise and extol promiscuously every thing that is said or done,

and find wisdom and prudence in the most indifferent actions; but

it belongs to the skilful courtier to set fine glosses upon manifest

imperfections, and make every failing, every frailty of his prince,

have the real appearance of the virtues that are the nearest, or, to

speak more justly, the least opposite to them. By the observance of

these necessary duties, it is that the favour of princes may be long

preserved, as well as obtained. Whoever can make himself agreeable

at a court, will seldom fail of being thought necessary; and when

a favourite has once established himself in the good opinion of his

master, it is easy for him to make his own family engross the king's

ear, and keep every body from him but his own creatures: Nor is it

more difficult, in length of time, to turn out of the administration

every body that was not of his own bringing in, and constantly be

tripping up the heels of those who attempt to raise themselves by any

other interest or assistance. A prime minister has by his place great

advantages over all that oppose him; one of them is, that nobody,

without exception, ever filled that post but who had many enemies,

whether he was a plunderer or a patriot: Which being well known, many

things that are laid to a prime minister's charge are not credited

among the impartial and more discreet part of mankind, even when

they are true. As to the defeating and disappointing all the envy and

malice they are generally attacked with, if the favourite was to do all

that himself, it would certainly, as you say, require extraordinary

talents and a great capacity, as well as continual vigilance and

application; but this is the province of their creatures, a task

divided into a great number of parts; and every body that has the

least dependence upon, or has any thing to hope from the minister,

makes it his business and his study, as it is his interest, on the one

hand, to cry up their patron, magnify his virtues and abilities, and

justify his conduct; on the other, to exclaim against his adversaries,

blacken their reputation, and play at them every engine, and the same

stratagems that are made use of to supplant the minister.

Hor. Then every well-polished courtier is fit to be a prime minister,

without learning or languages, skill in politics, or any other

qualification besides.

Cleo. No other than what are often and easily met with: It is necessary

that he should be a man, at least, of plain common sense, and not

remarkable for any gross frailties or imperfections; and of such,

there is no scarcity almost in any nation: He ought to be a man of

tolerable health and constitution, and one who delights in vanity,

that he may relish, as well as be able to bear the gaudy crowds

that honour his levees, the constant addresses, bows, and cringes

of solicitors, and the rest of the homage that is perpetually paid

him. The accomplishment he stands most in need of, is to be bold and

resolute, so as not to be easily shocked or ruffled; if he be thus

qualified, has a good memory, and is, moreover, able to attend a

multiplicity of business, if not with a continual presence of mind,

at least seemingly without hurry or perplexity, his capacity can

never fail of being extolled to the skies.

Hor. You say nothing of his virtue nor his honesty; there is a vast

trust put in a prime minister: If he should be covetous, and have no

probity, nor love for his country, he might make strange havoc with

the public treasure.

Cleo. There is no man that has any pride, but he has some value for

his reputation; and common prudence is sufficient to hinder a man

of very indifferent principles from stealing, where he would be in

great danger of being detected, and has no manner of security that

he shall not be punished for it.

Hor. But great confidence is reposed in him where he cannot be traced;

as in the money for secret services, of which, for reasons of state,

it may be often improper even to mention, much more to scrutinize

into the particulars; and in negotiations with other courts, should

he be only swayed by selfishness and private views, without regard to

virtue of the public, is it not in his power to betray his country,

sell the nation, and do all manner of mischief?

Cleo. Not amongst us, where parliaments are every year sitting. In

foreign affairs nothing of moment can be transacted but what all the

world must know; and should any thing be done or attempted that would

be palpably ruinous to the kingdom, and in the opinion of natives

and foreigners grossly and manifestly clashing with our interest, it

would raise a general clamour, and throw the minister into dangers,

which no man of the least prudence, who intends to stay in his

country, would ever run into. As to the money for secret services,

and perhaps other sums, which ministers have the disposal of, and

where they have great latitudes, I do not question but they have

opportunities of embezzling the nation's treasure: but to do this

without being discovered, it must be done sparingly, and with great

discretion: The malicious overlookers that envy them their places, and

watch all their motions, are a great awe upon them: the animosities

between those antagonists, and the quarrels between parties, are a

considerable part of the nation's security.

Hor. But would it not be a greater security to have men of honour,

of sense and knowledge, of application and frugality, preferred to

public employments?

Cleo. Yes, without doubt.

Hor. What confidence can we have in the justice or integrity of men;

that, on the one hand, show themselves on all occasions mercenary and

greedy after riches; and on the other, make it evident, by their manner

of living, that no wealth or estate could ever suffice to support

their expences, or satisfy their desires! besides, would it not be a

great encouragement to virtue and merit, if from the posts of honour

and profit all were to be debarred and excluded, that either wanted

capacity or were enemies to business; all the selfish, ambitious,

vain, and voluptuous?

Cleo. Nobody disputes it with you; and if virtue, religion, and future

happiness were sought after by the generality of mankind, with the

same solicitude, as sensual pleasure, politeness, and worldly glory

are, it would certainly be best that none but men of good lives,

and known ability, should have any place in the government whatever:

but to expert that this ever should happen, or to live in hopes of

it in a large, opulent, and flourishing kingdom, is to betray great

ignorance in human affairs? and whoever reckons a general temperance,

frugality, and disinterestedness among the national blessings, and at

the same time solicits Heaven for ease and plenty, and the increase

of trade, seems to me, little to understand what he is about. The

best of all, then, not being to be had, let us look out for the next

best, and we shall find, that of all possible means to secure and

perpetuate to nations their establishment, and whatever they value,

there is no better method than with wise laws to guard and entrench

their constitution, and contrive such forms of administration that the

commonweal can receive no great detriment from the want of knowledge or

probity of ministers, if any of them should prove less able or honest,

than they could wish them. The public administration must always go

forward; it is a ship that can never lie at anchor: the most knowing,

the most virtuous, and the least self-interested ministers are the

best; but, in the mean time there must be ministers. Swearing and

drunkenness are crying sins among seafaring men, and I should think

it a very desirable blessing to the nation, if it was possible to

reform them: but all this while we must have sailors; and if none

were to be admitted on board of any of his majesty's ships, that had

sworn above a thousand oaths, or had been drunk above ten times in

their lives, I am persuaded that the service would suffer very much

by the well-meaning regulation.

Hor. Why do not you speak more openly, and say that there is no

virtue or probity in the world? for all the drift of your discourse

is tending to prove that.

Cleo. I have amply declared myself upon this subject already in a

former conversation; and I wonder you will lay again to my charge

what I once absolutely denied: I never thought that there were no

virtuous or religious men; what I differ in with the flatterers of

our species, is about the numbers which they contend for; and I am

persuaded that you yourself, in reality, do not believe that there

are so many virtuous men as you imagine you do.

Hor. How come you to know my thoughts better than I do myself?

Cleo. You know I have tried you upon this head already, when I

ludicrously extolled and set a fine gloss on the merit of several

callings and professions in the society, from the lowest stations of

life to the highest: it then plainly appeared, that, though you have a

very high opinion of mankind in general, when we come to particulars,

you was as severe, and every whit as censorious as myself. I must

observe one thing to you, which is worth consideration. Most, if

not all people, are desirous of being thought impartial; yet nothing

is more difficult than to preserve our judgment unbiassed, when we

are influenced either by our love or our hatred; and how just and

equitable soever people are, we see that their friends are seldom so

good, or their enemies so bad as they represent them, when they are

angry with the one, or highly pleased with the other. For my part,

I do not think that, generally speaking, prime ministers are much

worse than their adversaries, who for their own interest defame them,

and at the same time, move Heaven and earth to be in their places. Let

us look out for two persons of eminence in any court of Europe, that

are equal in merit and capacity, and as well matched in virtues and

vices, but of contrary parties; and whenever we meet with two such,

one in favour and the other neglected, we shall always find that

whoever is uppermost, and in great employ, has the applause of his

party; and if things go tolerably well, his friends will attribute

every good success to his conduct, and derive all his actions from

laudable motives: the opposite side can discover no virtues in him;

they will not allow him to act from any principles but his passions;

and if any thing be done amiss, are very sure that it would not have

happened if their patron had been in the same post. This is the way of

the world. How immensely do often people of the same kingdom differ in

the opinion they have of their chiefs and commanders, even when they

are successful to admiration! we have been witnesses ourselves that one

part of the nation has ascribed the victories of a general entirely

to his consummate knowledge in martial affairs, and superlative

capacity in action; and maintained that it was impossible for a man

to bear all the toils and fatigues he underwent with alacrity, or to

court the dangers he voluntarily exposed himself to, if he had not

been supported, as well as animated, by the true spirit of heroism,

and a most generous love for his country: these, you know, were the

sentiments of one part of the nation, whilst the other attributed

all his successes to the bravery of his troops, and the extraordinary

care that was taken at home to supply his army; and insisted upon it,

that from the whole course of his life, it was demonstrable, that

he had never been buoyed up or actuated by any other principles than

excess of ambition, and an unsatiable greediness after riches.

Hor. I do not know but I may have said so myself. But after all,

the Duke of Marlborough was a very great man, an extraordinary genius.

Cleo. Indeed was he, and I am glad to hear you own it at last.

Virtutem incolumem odimus,

Sublatum ex oculis quærimus invidi.

Hor. A propos. I wish you would bid them stop for two or three minutes:

some of the horses perhaps may stale the while.

Cleo. No excuses, pray. You command here. Besides, we have time

enough.----Do you want to go out?

Hor. No; but I want to set down something, now I think of it, which

I have heard you repeat several times. I have often had a mind to

ask you for it, and it always went out of my head again. It is the

epitaph which your friend made upon the Duke.

Cleo. Of Marlborough? with all my heart. Have you paper?

Hor. I will write it upon the back of this letter; and as it happens,

I mended my pencil this morning. How does it begin?

Cleo. Qui belli, aut paucis virtutibus astra petebant.

Hor. Well.

Cleo. Finxerunt homines sæcula prisca Deos.

Hor. I have it. But tell me a whole distich at a time; the sense

is clearer.

Cleo. Quae martem sine patre tulit, sine matre Minervam,

Illustres mendax Græcia jactet avos.

Hor. That is really a happy thought. Courage and conduct: just the

two qualifications he excelled in. What is the next?

Cleo. Anglia quem genuit jacet hac, Homo, conditus Urna,

Antiqui, qualem non habuere Deum.

Hor.----I thank you. They may go on now. I have seen several things

since first I heard this epitaph of you, that are manifestly borrowed

from it. Was it never published?

Cleo. I believe not. The first time I saw it was the day the Duke

was buried, and ever since it has been handed about in manuscript;

but I never met with it in print yet.

Hor. It is worth all his Fable of the Bees, in my opinion.

Cleo. If you like it so well, I can show you a translation of it,

lately done by a gentleman of Oxford, if I have not lost it. It only

takes in the first and last distich, which indeed contain the main

thought: The second does not carry it on, and is rather a digression.

Hor. But it demonstrates the truth of the first in a very convincing

manner; and that Mars had no father, and Minerva no mother, is the

most fortunate thing a man could wish for, who wanted to prove that

the account we have of them is fabulous.

Cleo. Oh, here it is. I do not know whether you can read it; I copied

it in haste.

Hor. Very well.

The grateful ages past a God declar'd,

Who wisely council'd, or who bravely war'd:

Hence Greece her Mars and Pallas deify'd;

Made him the heroe's, her the patriot's guide.

Ancients, within this urn a mortal lies

Shew me his peer among your deities.

It is very good.

Cleo. Very lively; and what is aimed at in the Latin, is rather more

clearly expressed in the English.

Hor. You know I am fond of no English verse but Milton's. But do not

let this hinder our conversation.

Cleo. I was speaking of the partiality of mankind in general, and

putting you in mind how differently men judged of actions, according

as they liked or disliked the persons that performed them.

Hor. But before that you was arguing against the necessity, which I

think there is, for men of great accomplishments and extraordinary

qualifications in the administration of public affairs. Had you any

thing to add?

Cleo. No; at least I do not remember that I had.

Hor. I do not believe you have an ill design in advancing these

notions; but supposing them to be true, I cannot comprehend that

divulging them can have any other effect than the increase of sloth and

ignorance; for if men may fill the highest places in the government

without learning or capacity, genius or knowledge, there is an end

of all the labour of the brain, and the fatigue of hard study.

Cleo. I have made no such general assertion; but that an artful man may

make a considerable figure in the highest post of the administration,

and other great employments, without extraordinary talents, is certain:

as to consummate statesmen, I do not believe there ever were three

persons upon earth at the same time, that deserved that name. There

is not a quarter of the wisdom, solid knowledge, or intrinsic worth

in the world that men talk of and compliment one another with; and

of virtue or religion there is not an hundredth part in reality of

what there is in appearance.

Hor. I allow that those who set out from no better motives, than

avarice and ambition, aim at no other ends but wealth and honour;

which, if they can but get anywise they are satisfied; but men who

act from principles of virtue and a public spirit, take pains with

alacrity to attain the accomplishments that will make them capable

of serving their country: and if virtue be so scarce, how come there

to be men of skill in their professions? for that there are men of

learning and men of capacity, is most certain.

Cleo. The foundation of all accomplishments must be laid in our

youth, before we are able or allowed to choose for ourselves, or to

judge, which is the most profitable way of employing our time. It

is to good discipline, and the prudent care of parents and masters,

that men are beholden for the greatest part of their improvements;

and few parents are so bad as not to wish their offspring might be

well accomplished: the same natural affection that makes men take

pains to leave their children rich, renders them solicitous about

their education. Besides, it is unfashionable, and consequently a

disgrace to neglect them. The chief design of parents in bringing

up their children to a calling or profession, is to procure them a

livelihood. What promotes and encourages arts and sciences, is the

reward, money and honour; and thousands of perfections are attained

to, that would have had no existence, if men had been less proud

or less covetous. Ambition, avarice, and often necessity, are great

spurs to industry and application; and often rouse men from sloth and

indolence, when they are grown up, whom no persuasions or chastisement

of fathers or tutors, made any impression upon in their youth. Whilst

professions are lucrative, and have great dignities belonging to them,

there will always be men that excel in them. In a large polite nation,

therefore, all sorts of learning will ever abound, whilst the people

flourish. Rich parents, and such as can afford it, seldom fail bringing

up their children to literature: from this inexhaustible spring it

is, that we always draw much larger supplies than we stand in need

of, for all the callings and professions where the knowledge of the

learned languages is required. Of those that are brought up to letters,

some neglect them, and throw by their books as soon as they are their

own masters; others grow fonder of study, as they increase in years;

but the greatest part will always retain a value for what has cost

them pains to acquire. Among the wealthy, there will be always lovers

of knowledge, as well as idle people: every science will have its

admirers, as men differ in their tastes and pleasures; and there

is no part of learning but somebody or other will look into it,

and labour at it, from no better principles than some men are fox

hunters, and others take delight in angling. Look upon the mighty

labours of antiquaries, botanists, and the vertuosos in butterflies,

cockle-shells, and other odd productions of nature; and mind the

magnificent terms they all make use of in their respective provinces,

and the pompous names they often give to what others, who have no

taste that way, would not think worth any mortal's notice. Curiosity

is often as bewitching to the rich, as lucre is to the poor; and what

interest does in some, vanity does in others; and great wonders are

often produced from a happy mixture of both. Is it not amazing, that a

temperate man should be at the expence of four or five thousand a-year,

or, which is much the same thing, be contented to lose the interest

of above a hundred thousand pounds, to have the reputation of being

the possessor and owner of rarities and knicknacks in a very great

abundance, at the same time that he loves money, and continues slaving

for it in his old age! It is the hopes either of gain or reputation,

of large revenues and great dignities that promote learning; and

when we say that any calling, art or science, is not encouraged,

we mean no more by it, than that the masters or professors of it

are not sufficiently rewarded for their pains, either with honour or

profit. The most holy functions are no exception to what I say; and

few ministers of the gospel are so disinterested as to have a less

regard to the honours and emoluments that are or ought to be annexed

to their employment, than they have to the service and benefit they

should be of to others; and among those of them that study hard and

take uncommon pains, it is not easily proved that many are excited

to their extraordinary labour by a public spirit or solicitude for

the spiritual welfare of the laity: on the contrary, it is visible,

in the greatest part of them, that they are animated by the love of

glory and the hopes of preferment; neither is it common to see the

most useful parts of learning neglected for the most trifling, when,

from the latter, men have reason to hope that they shall have greater

opportunities of showing their parts, than offer themselves from the

former. Ostentation and envy have made more authors than virtue and

benevolence. Men of known capacity and erudition are often labouring

hard to eclipse and ruin one another's glory. What principle must we

say two adversaries act from, both men of unquestionable good sense

and extensive knowledge, when all the skill and prudence they are

masters of are not able to stifle, in their studied performances,

and hide from the world, the rancour of their minds, the spleen and

animosity they both write with against one another.

Hor. I do not say that such act from principles of virtue.

Cleo. Yet you know an instance of this in two grave divines, men

of fame and great merit, of whom each would think himself very much

injured, should his virtue be called in question.

Hor. When men have an opportunity, under pretence of zeal for

religion, or the public good, to vent their passion, they take great

liberties. What was the quarrel?

Cleo. De lana caprina.

Hor. A trifle. I cannot guess yet.

Cleo. About the metre of the comic poets among the ancients.

Hor. I know what you mean now; the manner of scanding and chanting

those verses.

Cleo. Can you think of any thing belonging to literature, of less

importance, or more useless?

Hor. Not readily.

Cleo. Yet the great contest between them, you see, is which of them

understands it best, and has known it the longest. This instance,

I think, hints to us how highly improbable it is, though men should

act from no better principles than envy, avarice, and ambition,

that when learning is once established, any part of it, even the

most unprofitable, should ever be neglected in such a large opulent

nation as ours is; where there are so many places of honour, and

great revenues to be disposed of among scholars.

Hor. But since men are fit to serve in most places with so little

capacity, as you insinuate, why should they give themselves that

unnecessary trouble of studying hard, and acquiring more learning

than there is occasion for?

Cleo. I thought I had answered that already; a great many, because

they take delight in study and knowledge.

Hor. But there are men that labour at it with so much application,

as to impair their healths, and actually to kill themselves with the

fatigue of it.

Cleo. Not so many as there are that injure their healths, and actually

kill themselves with hard drinking, which is the most unreasonable

pleasure of the two, and a much greater fatigue. But I do not deny that

there are men who take pains to qualify themselves in order to serve

their country; what I insist upon is, that the number of those who do

the same thing to serve themselves with little regard to their country,

is infinitely greater. Mr. Hutcheson, who wrote the Inquiry into the

Original of our Ideas of Beauty and Virtue, seems to be very expert

at weighing and measuring the quantities of affection, benevolence,

&c. I wish that curious metaphysician would give himself the trouble,

at his leisure, to weigh two things separately: First, the real love

men have for their country, abstracted from selfishness. Secondly,

the ambition they have of being thought to act from that love, though

they feel none. I wish, I say, that this ingenious gentleman would once

weigh these two asunder; and afterwards, having taken in impartially

all he could find of either, in this or any other nation, show us in

his demonstrative way, what proportion the quantities bore to each

other.--Quisque sibi commissus est, says Seneca; and certainly, it

is not the care of others, but the care of itself, which nature has

trusted and charged every individual creature with. When men exert

themselves in an extraordinary manner, they generally do it to be

the better for it themselves; to excel, to be talked of, and to be

preferred to others, that follow the same business, or court the

same favours.

Hor. Do you think it more probable, that men of parts and learning

should be preferred, than others of less capacity?

Cleo. Cæteris paribus, I do.

Hor. Then you must allow that there is virtue at least in those who

have the disposal of places.

Cleo. I do not say there is not; but there is likewise glory and

real honour accruing to patrons for advancing men of merit; and if

a person who has a good living in his gift, bestows it upon a very

able man, every body applauds him, and every parishioner is counted

to be particularly obliged to him. A vain man does not love to have

his choice disapproved of, and exclaimed against by all the world, any

more than a virtuous man; and the love of applause, which is innate to

our species, would alone be sufficient to make the generality of men,

and even the greatest part of the most vicious, always choose the most

worthy, out of any number of candidates; if they knew the truth, and

no stronger motive arising from consanguinity, friendship, interest,

or something else, was to interfere with the principle I named.

Hor. But, methinks, according to your system, those should be soonest

preferred that can best coax and flatter.

Cleo. Among the learned there are persons of art and address, that can

mind their studies without neglecting the the world: these are the

men that know how to ingratiate themselves with persons of quality;

employing to the best advantage all their parts and industry for

that purpose. Do but look into the lives and the deportment of such

eminent men, as we have been speaking of, and you will soon discover

the end and advantages they seem to propose to themselves from their

hard study and severe lucubrations. When you see men in holy orders,

without call or necessity, hovering about the courts of princes; when

you see them continually addressing and scraping acquaintance with the

favourites; when you hear them exclaim against the luxury of the age,

and complain of the necessity they are under of complying with it;

and at the same time you see, that they are forward, nay eager and

take pains with satisfaction, in the way of living, to imitate the

beau monde, as far as it is in their power: that no sooner they are

in possession of one preferment, but they are ready, and actually

soliciting for another, more gainful and more reputable; and that on

all emergencies, wealth, power, honour and superiority are the things

they grasp at, and take delight in; when, I say, you see these things,

this concurrence of evidences, is it any longer difficult to guess

at, or rather is there room to doubt of the principles they act from,

or the tendency of their labours?

Hor. I have little to say to priests, and do not look for virtue from

that quarter.

Cleo. Yet you will find as much of it among divines, as you will among

any other class of men; but every where less in reality, than there is

in appearance. Nobody would be thought insincere, or to prevaricate;

but there are few men, though they are so honest as to own what they

would have, that will acquaint us with the true reason why they would

have it: therefore the disagreement between the words and actions

of men is at no time more conspicuous, than when we would learn from

them their sentiments, concerning the real worth of things. Virtue, is

without doubt, the most valuable treasure which man can be possessed

of; it has every body's good word; but where is the country in which

it is heartily embraced, præmia si tollas? Money, on the other hand,

is deservedly called the root of all evil: there has not been a

moralist nor a satirist of note, that has not had a fling at it;

yet what pains are taken, and what hazards are run to acquire it,

under various pretences of designing to do good with it! As for my

part, I verily believe, that as an accessary cause, it has done more

mischief in the world than any one thing besides: yet it is impossible

to name another, that is so absolutely necessary to the order, economy,

and the very existence of the civil society; for as this is entirely

built upon the variety of our wants, so the whole superstructure is

made up of the reciprocal services which men do to each other. How

to get these services performed by others, when we have occasion for

them, is the grand and almost constant solicitude in life of every

individual person. To expect that others should serve us for nothing,

is unreasonable; therefore all commerce that men can have together,

must be a continual bartering of one thing for another. The feller

who transfers the property of a thing, has his own interest as much

at heart as the buyer who purchases that property: and, if you want

or like a thing, the owner of it, whatever stock or provision he may

have of the same, or how greatly soever you may stand in need of it,

will never part with it, but for a consideration which he likes better

than he does the thing you want. Which way shall I persuade a man to

serve me, when the service I can repay him in, is such as he does not

want or care for? Nobody who is at peace, and has no contention with

any of the society, will do any thing for a lawyer; and a physician

can purchase nothing of a man, whose whole family is in perfect

health. Money obviates and takes away all those difficulties, by being

an acceptable reward for all the services men can do to one another.

Hor. But all men valuing themselves above their worth, every body

will over-rate his labour. Would not this follow from your system?

Cleo. It certainly would, and does. But what is to be admired is,

that the larger the numbers are in a society, the more extensive they

have rendered the variety of their desires, and the more operose

the gratification of them is become among them by custom; the less

mischievous is the consequence of that evil, where they have the use of

money: whereas, without it, the smaller the number was of a society,

and the more strictly the members of it, in supplying their wants,

would confine themselves to those only that were necessary for their

subsistence, the more easy it would be for them to agree about the

reciprocal services I spoke of. But to procure all the comforts of

life, and what is called temporal happiness, in a large polite nation,

would be every whit as practicable without speech, as it would be

without money, or an equivalent to be used instead of it. Where this

is not wanting, and due care is taken of it by the legislature, it

will always be the standard, which the worth of every thing will be

weighed by. There are great blessings that arise from necessity; and

that every body is obliged to eat and drink, is the cement of civil

society. Let men set what high value they please upon themselves,

that labour which most people are capable of doing, will ever be

the cheapest. Nothing can be dear of which there is great plenty,

how beneficial soever it may be to man; and scarcity enhances the

price of things much oftener than the usefulness of them. Hence it is

evident why those arts and sciences will always be the most lucrative,

that cannot be attained to, but in great length of time, by tedious

study and close application; or else require a particular genius,

not often to be met with. It is likewise evident, to whose lot, in

all societies, the hard and dirty labour, which nobody would meddle

with, if he could help it, will ever fall: but you have seen enough

of this in the Fable of the Bees.

Hor. I have so, and one remarkable saying I have read there on this

subject, which I shall never forget. "The poor," says the author,

"have nothing to stir them up to labour, but their wants, which it

is wisdom to relieve, but folly to cure."

Cleo. I believe the maxim to be just, and that it is not less

calculated for the real advantage of the poor, than it appears to

be for the benefit of the rich. For, among the labouring people,

those will ever be the least wretched as to themselves, as well as

most useful to the public, that being meanly born and bred, submit to

the station they are in with cheerfulness; and contented, that their

children should succeed them in the same low condition, inure them

from their infancy to labour and submission, as well as the cheapest

diet and apparel; when, on the contrary, that sort of them will always

be the least serviceable to others, and themselves the most unhappy,

who, dissatisfied with their labour, are always grumbling and repining

at the meanness of their condition; and, under pretence of having a

great regard for the welfare of their children, recommend the education

of them to the charity of others; and you shall always find, that of

this latter class of poor, the greatest part are idle sottish people,

that, leading dissolute lives themselves, are neglectful to their

families, and only want, as far as it is in their power, to shake

off that burden of providing for their brats from their own shoulders.

Hor. I am no advocate for charity schools; yet I think it is barbarous,

that the children of the labouring poor, should be for ever pinned

down, they, and all their posterity, to that slavish condition; and

that those who are meanly born, what parts or genius soever they might

be of, should be hindered and debarred from raising themselves higher.

Cleo. So should I think it barbarous, if what you speak of was done

any where, or proposed to be done. But there is no degree of men

in Christendom that are pinned down, they and their posterity, to

slavery for ever. Among the very lowest sort, there are fortunate men

in every country; and we daily see persons, that without education,

or friends, by their own industry and application, raise themselves

from nothing to mediocrity, and sometimes above it, if once they

come rightly to love money and take delight in saving it: and this

happens more often to people of common and mean capacities, than it

does to those of brighter parts. But there is a prodigious difference

between debarring the children of the poor from ever rising higher

in the world, and refusing to force education upon thousands of them

promiscuously, when they should be more usefully employed. As some

of the rich must come to be poor, so some of the poor will come to be

rich in the common course of things. But that universal benevolence,

that should every where industriously lift up the indigent labourer

from his meanness, would not be less injurious to the whole kingdom

than a tyrannical power, that should, without a cause, cast down the

wealthy from their ease and affluence. Let us suppose, that the hard

and dirty labour throughout the nation requires three millions of

hands, and that every branch of it is performed by the children of the

poor. Illiterate, and such as had little or no education themselves;

it is evident, that if a tenth part of these children, by force and

design, were to be exempt from the lowest drudgery, either there must

be so much work left undone, as would demand three hundred thousand

people; or the defect, occasioned by the numbers taken off, must be

supplied by the children of others, that had been better bred.

Hor. So that what is done at first out of charity to some, may,

at long run, prove to be cruelty to others.

Cleo. And will depend upon it. In the compound of all nations,

the different degrees of men ought to bear a certain proportion

to each other, as to numbers, in order to render the whole a well

proportioned mixture. And as this due proportion is the result and

natural consequence of the difference there is in the qualifications of

men, and the vicissitudes that happen among them, so it is never better

attained to, or preserved, than when nobody meddles with it. Hence we

may learn, how the short-sighted wisdom of perhaps well-meaning people,

may rob us of a felicity that would flow spontaneously from the nature

of every large society, if none were to divert or interrupt the stream.

Hor. I do not care to enter into these abstruse matters; what have

you further to say in praise of money?

Cleo. I have no design to speak either for or against it; but be it

good or bad, the power and dominion of it are both of vast extent,

and the influence of it upon mankind has never been stronger or more

general in any empire, state, or kingdom, than in the most knowing

and politest ages, when they were in their greatest grandeur and

prosperity; and when arts and sciences were the most flourishing in

them: Therefore, the invention of money seems to me to be a thing more

skilfully adapted to the whole bent of our nature, than any other

or human contrivance. There is no greater remedy against sloth or

stubbornness; and with astonishment I have beheld the readiness and

alacrity with which it often makes the proudest men pay homage to

their inferiors: It purchases all services, and cancels all debts;

nay, it does more, for when a person is employed in his occupation,

and he who sets him to work, a good paymaster, how laborious, how

difficult or irksome soever the service be, the obligation is always

reckoned to lie upon him who performs it.

Hor. Do not you think, that many eminent men in the learned professions

would dissent from you in this?

Cleo. I know very well, that none ought to do it, if ever they courted

business, or hunted after employment.

Hor. All you have said is true among mercenary people; but upon noble

minds that despise lucre, honour has far greater efficacy than money.

Cleo. The highest titles, and the most illustrious births, are no

security against covetousness; and persons of the first quality, that

are actually generous and munificent are often as greedy after gain,

when it is worth their while, as the most sordid mechanics are for

trifles: The year twenty has taught us, how difficult it is to find

out those noble minds that despise lucre, when there is a prospect of

getting vastly. Besides, nothing is more universally charming than

money; it suits with every station, the high, the low, the wealthy,

and the poor: whereas, honour has little influence on the mean, slaving

people, and rarely affects any of the vulgar; but if it does, money

will almost every where purchase honour; nay, riches of themselves are

an honour to all those who know how to use them fashionably. Honour,

on the contrary, wants riches for its support; without them it is a

dead weight that oppresses its owner; and titles of honour, joined

to a necessitous condition, are a greater burden together than the

same degree of poverty is alone: for the higher a man's quality is,

the more considerable are his wants in life; but the more money

he has, the better he is able to supply the greatest extravagancy

of them. Lucre is the best restorative in the world, in a literal

sense, and works upon the spirits mechanically; for it is not only

a spur that excites men to labour, and makes them in love with it,

but it likewise gives relief in weariness, and actually supports men

in all fatigues and difficulties. A labourer of any sort, who is paid

in proportion to his diligence, can do more work than another who is

paid by the day or the week, and has standing wages.

Hor. Do not you think, then, that there are men in laborious offices,

who, for a fixed salary, discharge their duties with diligence and

assiduity?

Cleo. Yes, many; but there is no place or employment in which there

are required or expected, that continual attendance and uncommon

severity of application, that some men harass and punish themselves

with by choice, when every fresh trouble meets with a new recompence;

and you never saw men so entirely devote themselves to their calling,

and pursue business with that eagerness, dispatch, and perseverance in

any office of preferment, in which the yearly income is certain and

unalterable, as they often do in those professions where the reward

continually accompanies the labour, and the fee immediately either

precedes the service they do to others, as it is with the lawyers,

or follows it, as it is with the physicians. I am sure you have hinted

at this in our first conversation yourself.

Hor. Here is the castle before us.

Cleo. Which I suppose you are not sorry for.

Hor. Indeed I am, and would have been glad to have heard you speak

of kings and other sovereigns with the same candour, as well as

freedom, with which you have treated prime ministers, and their envious

adversaries. When I see a man entirely impartial, I shall always do him

that justice, as to think, that if he is not in the right in what he

says, at least he aims at truth. The more I examine your sentiments, by

what I see in the world, the more I am obliged to come into them; and

all this morning I have said nothing in opposition to you, but to be

better informed, and to give you an opportunity to explain yourself

more amply. I am your convert, and shall henceforth look upon the

Fable of the Bees very differently from what I did; for though,

in the Characteristics, the language and the diction are better,

the system of man's sociableness is more lovely and more plausible,

and things are set off with more art and learning; yet in the other

there is certainly more truth, and nature is more faithfully copied

in it almost every where.

Cleo. I wish you would read them both once more, and, after that, I

believe you will say that you never saw two authors who seem to have

wrote with more different views. My friend, the author of the Fable,

to engage and keep his readers in good humour, seems to be very merry,

and to do something else, whilst he detects the corruption of our

nature; and having shown man to himself in various lights, he points

indirectly at the necessity, not only of revelation and believing,

but likewise of the practice of Christianity manifestly to be seen

in mens lives.

Hor. I have not observed that: Which way has he done it indirectly?

Cleo. By exposing, on the one hand, the vanity of the world, and the

most polite enjoyments of it; and, on the other, the insufficiency of

human reason and heathen virtue to procure real felicity: for I cannot

see what other meaning a man could have by doing this in a Christian

country, and among people that all pretend to seek after happiness.

Hor. And what say you of Lord Shaftsbury?

Cleo. First, I agree with you that he was a man of erudition, and

a very polite writer; he has displayed a copious imagination, and a

fine turn of thinking, in courtly language and nervous expressions:

But, as on the one hand, it must be confessed, that his sentiments on

liberty and humanity are noble and sublime, and that there is nothing

trite or vulgar in the Characteristics; so, on the other, it cannot be

denied, that the ideas he had formed of the goodness and excellency of

our nature, were as romantic and chimerical as they are beautiful and

amiable; that he laboured hard to unite two contraries that can never

be reconciled together, innocence of manners, and worldly greatness;

that to compass this end, he favoured deism, and, under pretence of

lashing priestcraft and superstition, attacked the Bible itself; and,

lastly, that by ridiculing many passages of Holy Writ, he seems to

have endeavoured to sap the foundation of all revealed religion, with

design of establishing Heathen virtue on the ruins of Christianity.

FINIS.

NOTES

[1] This was wrote in 1714.

[2] This was wrote in 1714.

[3] P. 212, 213. First Edit. 175, 176.

[4] P. 215. First Edit. 178.

[5] P. 106. First Edit. 77.

[6] P. 116. First Edit. 87.

[7] P. 115, 116. First Edit. 86, 87.

[8] Quis est tam vecors qui non intelligat, numine hoc tantum imperium

esse natum, actum, et retentum? Cic. Orat. de Harush. Resp.