1. The resolution which you have taken to enter into the friendship
and familiarity of Sorcanus, that by the frequent opportunities of
conversing with him you may cultivate and improve a soil which gives
such early promises of a plentiful harvest, is an undertaking which
will not only oblige his relations and friends, but redound very much
to the advantage of the public; and (notwithstanding the peevish
censures of some morose or ignorant people) it is so far from being an
argument of an aspiring and vain-glorious temper, that it shows you to
be a lover of virtue and good manners, and a zealous promoter of the
common interest of mankind.
They themselves are rather to be accused of an indirect but more
vehement sort of ambition, who would not upon any terms be found in the
company or so much as be seen to give a civil salute to a person of
quality. For how unreasonable would it be to enforce a well-disposed
young gentleman, and one who needs the direction of a wise governor,
to such complaints as these: “Would that I might change myself from
a Pericles or a Cato to a cobbler like Simon or a grammarian like
Dionysius, that I might like them have the conversation of such a man
as Socrates, enjoy his company, and hear his instructive lessons of
morality.”
So far, I am sure, was Aristo of Chios from being of their humor, that
when he was censured for exposing and prostituting the dignity of
philosophy by his freedom to all comers, he answered, that he could
wish that Nature had given understanding to wild beasts, that they
too might be capable of being his hearers. Shall we then deny that
privilege to men of interest and power, which this good man would have
communicated (if it had been possible) to the brute beasts? But these
men have taken a false notion of philosophy, they make it much like the
art of statuary, whose business it is to carve out a lifeless image in
the most exact figure and proportions, and then to raise it upon its
pedestal, where it is to continue for ever. The true philosophy is of a
quite different nature; it is a spring and principle of motion wherever
it comes; it makes men active and industrious, it sets every wheel and
faculty a going, it stores our minds with axioms and rules by which to
make a sound judgment, it determines the will to the choice of what
is honorable and just; and it wings all our faculties to the swiftest
prosecution of it. It is accompanied with an elevation and nobleness
of mind, joined with a coolness and sweetness of behavior, and backed
with a becoming assurance and inflexible resolution. And from this
diffusiveness of the nature of good it follows, that the best and most
accomplished men are inclined to converse with persons of the highest
condition. Indeed a physician, if he have any good nature and sense of
honor, would be more ready to cure an eye which is to see and watch
for a great many thousands, than that of a private person; how much
more then ought a philosopher to form and fashion, to rectify and cure
the soul of such a one, who is (if I may so express it) to inform the
body politic,—who is to think and understand for so many others, to
be in so great measure the rule of reason, the standard of law, and
model of behavior, by which all the rest will square and direct their
actions? Suppose a man to have a talent at finding out springs and
contriving of aqueducts (a piece of skill for which Hercules and other
of the ancients are much celebrated in history), surely he could not so
satisfactorily employ himself in sinking a well or deriving water to
some private seat or contemptible cottage, as in supplying conduits to
some fair and populous city, in relieving an army just perishing with
thirst, or in refreshing and adorning with fountains and cool streams
the beautiful gardens of some glorious monarch. There is a passage of
Homer very pertinent to this purpose, in which he calls Minos Διὸς
μεγάλου ὀαριστήν ὀαριστήν, which, as Plato interprets it, signifies _the
disciple and companion of Jupiter_. For it were beneath his dignity
indeed to teach private men, such as care only for a family or indulge
their useless speculations; but kings are scholars worthy the tuition
of a God, who, when they are well advised, just, good, and magnanimous,
never fail to procure the peace and prosperity of all their subjects.
The naturalists tell us that the eryngium hath such a property with
it, that if one of the flock do but taste it, all the rest will stand
stock still in the same place till the shepherd hath taken it out
of its mouth. Such quickness of action does it have, pervading and
spreading itself over every thing that is near it, as if it were fire.
The effects of philosophy, however, are different according to the
difference of inclinations in men. If indeed it lights on one who loves
a dull and inactive sort of life, that makes himself the centre and
the little conveniences of life the circumference of all his thoughts,
such a one does contract the sphere of her activity, so that having
only made easy and comfortable the life of a single person, it fails
and dies with him; but when it finds a man of a ruling genius, one
fitted for conversation and able to grapple with the difficulties of
public business, if it once possess him with principles of honesty,
honor, and religion, it takes a compendious method, by doing good to
one, to oblige a great part of mankind. Such was the effect of the
conversation of Anaxagoras with Pericles, of Plato with Dion, and of
Pythagoras with the principal statesmen of all Italy. Cato himself took
a voyage, when he had the concern of an expedition lying upon him, to
see and hear Athenodorus; and Scipio sent for Panaetius, when he was
commissioned by the senate “to take a survey alike of the outrages
and the good order which were practised in their provinces,”[201] as
Posidonius observes. Now what a pretty sort of return would it have
been in Panaetius to send word back,—“If indeed you were in a private
capacity, John a Nokes or John a Stiles, that had a mind to get into
some obscure corner or cell, to state cases and resolve syllogisms, I
should very gladly have accepted your invitation; but now, because you
are the son of Paulus Aemilius who was twice consul, and grandson of
that Scipio who was surnamed from his conquest of Hannibal and Africa,
I cannot with honor hold any conversation with you!”
2. The objections which they bring from the two kinds of discourse, one
of which is mental, the other expressed in words or interpretative of
the former, are so stale and pedantical, that they are best answered by
laughter or silence; and we merely quote the old saying, “I knew this
before Theognis was born.” However, thus much shall be said, that the
end of them both is friendship,—in the first case with ourselves, in
the second case with another. For he that hath attained to virtue by
the methods of philosophy hath his mind all in tune and good temper;
he is not struck with those reproaches of conscience, which cause the
acutest sense of pain and are the natural punishments of our follies;
but he enjoys (the great prerogative of a good man) to be always easy
and in amity with himself.
No factious lusts reason’s just power control,
Nor kindle civil discord in his soul.
His passion does not stand in defiance to his reason, nor do his
reasonings cross and thwart one the other, but he is always consistent
with himself. But the very joys of wicked men are tumultuary and
confused, like those who dwell in the borders of two great empires at
variance, always insecure, and in perpetual alarms; whilst a good man
enjoys an uninterrupted peace and serenity of mind, which excels the
other not only in duration, but in sense of pleasure too. As for the
other sort of discourse, that which consists in expression of itself
to others, Pindar says very well, that it was not mercenary in old
time, nor indeed is it so now; but by the baseness and ambition of a
few it is made use of to serve their poor secular interests. For if
the poets represent Venus herself as much offended with those who make
a trade and traffic of the passion of love, how much more reasonably
may we suppose that Urania and Clio and Calliope have an indignation
against those who set learning and philosophy to sale? Certainly the
gifts and endowments of the Muses ought to be privileged from such mean
considerations.
If indeed some have made fame and reputation one of the ends of their
studies, they used it only as an instrument to get friends; since we
find by common observation that men praise only those whom they love.
If they sought its own praise, they were as much mistaken as Ixion
when he embraced a cloud instead of Juno; for there is nothing so
fleeting, so changeable, and so inconstant as popular applause; it is
but a pompous shadow, and hath no manner of solidity and duration in
it. But a wise man, if he design to engage in business and matters of
state, will so far aim at fame and popularity as that he may be better
enabled to benefit others; for it is a difficult and very unpleasant
task to do good to those who are disaffected to our persons. It is the
good opinion men have of us which disposes men to give credit to our
doctrine. As light is a greater good to those who see others by it
than to those who only are seen, so is honor of a greater benefit to
those who behold it than to those whose glory is beheld. But even one
who withdraws himself from the noise of the world, who loves privacy
and indulges his own thoughts, will show that respect to the good word
of the people which Hippolytus did to Venus,—though he abstain from
her mysteries, he will pay his devotions at a distance;[202] but he
will not be so cynical and sullen as not to hear with gladness the
commendations of virtuous men like himself; he will neither engage
himself in a restless pursuit of wealth, interest, or honor, nor will
he on the other hand be so rustic and insensible as to refuse them in
a moderate degree, when they fairly come in his way; in like manner he
will not court and follow handsome and beautiful youth, but will rather
choose such as are of a teachable disposition, of a gentle behavior,
and lovers of learning. The charms and graces of youth will not make
a philosopher shy of their conversation, when the endowments of their
minds are answerable to the features of their bodies. The case is the
same when greatness of place and fortune concur with a well-disposed
mind in the same person; he will not therefore forbear loving and
respecting such a one, nor be afraid of the name of a courtier, nor
think it a curse that such attendance and dependence should be his fate.
They that strive most Dame Venus to eschew
Do fault as much as they who her pursue.[203]
The application is easy to the matter in hand.
A philosopher therefore, if he is of a retired humor, will not shun
such persons; while one who generously designs his studies for the
public advantage will cheerfully embrace their advances of friendship,
will not force them after a troublesome manner to hear him, will
lay aside his scholastical terms and distinctions, and will rejoice
to discourse and pass his time with them when they are willing and
disposed.
3. I plough the spacious Berecynthian fields,
Full six days’ journey wide,[204]
says one boastingly in the poet; the same man, if he were as much a
lover of mankind as of husbandry, would much rather bestow his pains on
such a farm, the fruits of which would serve a great number, than to
be always dressing the olive-yard of some cynical malecontent, which,
when all was done, would scarce yield oil enough to dress a salad or
to supply his lamp in the long winter evenings. Epicurus himself, who
places happiness in the profoundest quiet and sluggish inactivity, as
the only secure harbor from the storms of this troublesome world, could
not but confess that it is both more noble and delightful to do than to
receive a kindness;[205] for there is nothing which produces so humane
and genuine a sort of pleasure as that of doing good. He who first
gave the names to the three Graces well understood this, for they all
signify delectation and joy,[206] and these surely are far greater and
purer in him who does the good turn. This is so evidently true, that
we all receive good turns blushing and with some confusion, but we are
always gay and well pleased when we are conferring one.
If then it is so pleasant to do good to a few, how are their hearts
dilated with joy who are benefactors to whole cities, provinces, and
kingdoms? And such benefactors are they who instil good principles into
those upon whom so many millions do depend. On the other hand, those
who debauch the minds of great men—as sycophants, false informers, and
flatterers, worse than both, manifestly do—are the centre of all the
curses of a nation, as men who do not only infuse deadly poison into
the cistern of a private house, but into the public springs of which
so many thousands are to drink. The people therefore laughed at the
hangers-on of Callias, whom, as Eupolis says, neither fire nor brass
nor steel could keep from supping with him; but as for the favorites
of those execrable tyrants Apollodorus, Phalaris, and Dionysius, they
racked them, they flayed them alive, they roasted them at slow fires,
they looked on them as the very pests of society and disgraces of
human nature; for to debauch a simple person is indeed an ill thing,
but to corrupt a prince is an infinite mischief. In like manner, he
who instructs an ordinary man makes him to pass his life decently and
with comfort; but he who instructs a prince, by correcting his errors
and clearing his understanding, is a philosopher for the public, by
rectifying the very mould and model by which whole nations are formed
and regulated. It is the custom of all nations to pay a peculiar honor
and deference to their priests; and the reason of it is, because they
do not only pray for good things for themselves, their own families and
friends, but for whole communities, for the whole state of mankind.
Yet we are not so fond as to think that the priests cause the Gods to
be givers of good things, or inspire a vein of beneficence into them;
but they only make their supplications to a being which of itself is
inclinable to answer their requests. But in this a good tutor hath
the privilege above the priests,—he effectually renders a prince more
disposed to actions of justice, moderation, and mercy, and therefore
hath a greater satisfaction of mind when he reflects upon it.
4. For my own part, I cannot but think that an ordinary mechanic—for
instance, a maker of musical instruments—would be much more attentive
and pleased at his work, if he knew that his harp would be touched by
the famous Amphion, and in his hand serve for the builder of Thebes,
or if that Thales had bespoke it, who was so great a master that
by the force of his music he pacified a popular tumult amongst the
Lacedaemonians. A good-natured shipwright would ply his work more
heartily, if he were making the steerage for the admiral galley of
Themistocles when he fought for the liberty of Greece, or of Pompey
when he went on his expedition against the pirates: what ecstasy of
delight then must a philosopher be in, when he reflects that his
scholar is a man of authority, a prince or great potentate, that he is
employed in so public a work, giving laws to him who is to give laws to
a whole nation, who is to punish vice, and to reward the virtuous with
riches and honor? The builder of the Argo certainly would have been
mightily pleased, if he had known what noble mariners were to row in
his ship, and that at last she should be translated into heaven; and a
carpenter would not be half so much pleased to make a coach or plough,
as to make the tablets on which Solon’s laws were to be engraved. In
like manner the discourses and rules of philosophy, being once deeply
stamped and imprinted on the minds of great personages, will stick so
close, that the prince shall seem no other than justice incarnate and
animated law. This was the design of Plato’s voyage into Sicily,—he
hoped that the lectures of his philosophy would serve for laws to
Dionysius, and bring his affairs again into a good posture. But the
soul of that unfortunate prince was like paper scribbled all over with
the characters of vice; its piercing and corroding quality had stained
quite through, and sunk into the very substance of his soul. Whereas,
if such persons are to profit by sage lessons, they must be taken when
they are at full speed.