Bed, his Belly, and his Lufts. Many People feem to retire out of a Wearinefs of public Affairs, and the Trouble of Difappointments; and yet Ambition finds them out even in that Recefs, into which Fear, and Weariness had': caft them; and fo does Luxury, Pride, and most of the Diftempers of a public Life. There are many that lie clofe, not that they may live fecurely, but that they may tranfgrefs more privately; it is their Confcience, not their States, that makes them keep a Porter; for they live at fuch a Rate, that to be feen before they be aware, is to be detected. Crates faw a young Man walking by himself, Have a Care, fays he, of lewd Company. Some Men are bufy in Idlenefs, and make Peace more laborious and troublesome than War: Nay, and more wicked too, when they bestow it upon fuch Lufts, and other Vices, which even the Licence of a military Life would not endure. We cannot call these People Men of Leifure, that are wholly taken up with their Pleasures. A troublefome Life is

mach to be preferred before a flöthful one, and it is a ftrange thing methinks, that any Man fhould fear Death that has buried himfelf alive; as Privacy, without Letters, is but the burying of a Man quick.

Some Men retire to be talked of..

THERE are fome that make a Boalt of their Retreat, which is but a kind of lazy Ambition: they retire to make People talk of them, whereas I would rather withdraw to fpeak with myself. And what shall that be; but that which we are apt to fpeak of one another? I will fpeak ill of myfelf; i will examine, accufe, and punish my Infirmities. I have no Defign to be cry'd up for a great Man, that has renounced the World in a Contempt of the Vanity and Madness of human Life; 1 blame no body but myfelf, and I addrefs only to myself. He that comes to me for Help is miftaken, for I am not a Physician but a Patient. And I fhall be well enough content to have it faid, when any Man leaves me, I took him for a happy, and a learned Man, and truly I find no fuch matter, I had rather have my Retreat pardoned, than envied. There are fome Creatures that confound their Footing about their Dens, that they may not be found out, and fo fhould a wife Man in the Cafe of Retirement. When the Door is open, the

1

Thief paffes it by, as not worth his while; but when 'tis bolted and fealed, 'tis a Temptation for People to be prying. To have it faid, That fuch a one is never out of his Study, and fees no body, &c. this furnishes Matter for Difcourfe. He that makes his Retirement too strict and ́evere, does as good as call Company to take notice of it.

f

Philofophy requires Privacy and Freedom.

EVERY Man knows his own Constitution. One eases his Stomach by Vomit, another fupports it with good Nourifhment: He that has the Gout forbears Wine and Bathing, and every Man applies to the Part that is most infirm. He that fhews a gouty Foot, a lame Hand, or contracted Nerves, shall be permitted to lie ftill, and attend his Cure. And why not fo in the Vices of the Mind? We muft discharge all Impediments, and make way for Philofophy, as a Study inconfiftent with common Bufinefs. To all other Things we must deny ourselves openly and frankly: When we are fick, we refufe Vifits, keep ourfelves clofe, and lay afide all public Cares; and fhall we not do as much when we philofophize? Business is the Drudgery of the World and only fit for Slaves; but Contemplation is the Work of wife Men. Not but that Solitude, and Company may be allowed to take their Turns: The one creates in us the Love of Mankind, and the other that cf ourselves: Solitude relieves us when we are fick of Company; and Converfation, when we are weary of being alone; fo that the one cures the other. There is no Man, in fine, fo miferable as he that is at a lofs how to spend his Time. He is restlefs in his Thoughts, unfteady in his Counsels; diffatisfied with the prefent, folicitous for the future: whereas he that prudently computes his Hours and his Business, does not only fortify himfelf against the common Accidents of Life, but improves the most rigorous Difpenfations of Providence to his Comfort; and stands firm under all the Trials of human Weakness.

CHAP. XXI.

The Contempt of Death makes all the Miferies of Life easy to us.

T is a hard Talk to mafter the natural Defire of Life

Iby a philofophical Contempt of Death; and to con

vince the World, that there is no hurt in't, and crush an Opinion, that was brought up with us from our Cradles. What Help? What Encouragement? What fhall we say to human Frailty, to carry it fearless through the Fury of Flames, and upon the Points of Swords? What Rhetoric fhall we ufe, to bear down the univerfal Confent of People to fo dangerous an Error? the captious, and fuperfine Subtilties of the Schools will never do the Work. These speak many Things fharp, but utterly unneceffary, and void of Effect. The Truth of it is, there is but one Chain that holds all the World in Bondage, and that's the Love of Life. It is not that I propound the making of death fo indifferent to us, as it is whether a Man's Hairs be even or odd: For what with Self Love, and an implanted Defire in every thing of preferving itself, and a long Acquaintance betwixt the Soul and Body; Friends may be loth to part, and Death may carry an Appearance of Evil, though in Truth it is itself no Evil at all. Befide that, we are to go to a strange Place, in the Dark, and under great Uncertainties of our future State; so that People die in Terror, because they do not know whither they are to go, and they are apt to fancy the worst of what they do not understand: Thefe Thoughts are indeed fufficient to startle a Man of great Resolution without a wonderful Support from above. And moreover, our natural Scruples, and Infirmities, are affifted by the Wits and Fancies of all Ages, in their infamous, and horrid Description of another World: Nay, taking it for granted, that there will be no Reward and Punishment, they are yet more afraid of an Annihilation, than of Hell itself.

BUT, what is

'Tis a Folly to fear Death.

it we fear? Oh! 'Tis a terrible thing to die, well! and is it not better once to fuffer it, + than always to fear it? The Earth itself fuffers both with me, and before me. How many Islands are fwallowed up in the Sea? How many Towns do we fail over, Nay, how many Nations are wholly loft, either by Inun-dations or Earthquakes? And fhall I be afraid of my little Body? Why fhould I, that am sure to die, and that all other Things are mortal, be fearful of coming to my laft Gafp myfelf? It is the Fear of Death that makes us bafe, and troubles and destroys the Life that we would preferve: That aggravates all Circumstances, and makes them formidable. We depend but upon a flying Moment. Die we muft; but when? What's that to us? It is the Law of Nature; the Tribute of Mortals, and the Reme-dy of all Evils. It is only the Difguifes that affrights us; as Children that are terrified with a Vizor. Take away the Inftruments of Death, the Fire, the Ax, the Guards, the Executioner, the Whips, and the Racks: Take away the Pomp, I fay, and the Circumftances that ac-company it, and Death is no more than what my Slave yesterday contemned: The Pains is nothing to a Fit of the Stone; if it be tolerable, it is not great; and if intolerable, it cannot last long. There is nothing that Na. ture has made neceffary, which is more easy than Death: We are longer a coming into the World, than going out of it: and there is not any Minute of our Lives, wherein we may not reasonably expect it. Nay, 'tis but a Moment's Work, the parting of the Soul and Body. What a fhame is it then to ftand in Fear of any thing lo long, that is over fo foon?

The Fear of Death is easily

overcome.

NOR is it any great Matter to †overcome this Fear: For we have Examples as well of the meaneft of Men, as of the greatelt that have done it. There was a Fellow to be expofed up. on the Theatre, who in difdain thruft a Stick down his own Throat, and choked himself: And another on the fame Occafion, pretending to nod upon the Chariot, as if he were afleep, caft his Head betwixt the Spokes of the Wheel, and kept his Seat 'till his Neck was broken. Cali

gula, upon a Difpute with Canius Julius; Do not flatter yourself, fays he, for I have given Orders to put you to Death. I thank your most gracious Majefty for it, fays Canius, giving to understand perhaps, that under his Government, Death was a Mercy: For he knew that Caligula feldom fail'd of being as good as his Word in that Čafe. He was at Play when the Officer carried him away to his Execution, and beckoning to the Centurion, Pray, fays he, will you bear me witnefs, when I am dead and gone, that I had the better of the Game. He was a Man exceedingly beloved and lamented: And for a Farewel, after he had preached Moderation to his Friends : You, fays he, are here disputing about the Immortality of the Soul, and I am going to learn the Truth of it; if I discover any thing upon that Point, you shall hear on't. Nay, the most timorous of Creatures, when they fee there's no escaping, they oppofe themselves to all Dangers; the Defpair gives them Courage, and the Neceffity overcomes the Fear. Socrates was thirty Days' in Prison after his Sentence, and had time enough to have starv'd himself, and fo have prevented the Poifon; but he gave the World the Blefling of his Life as long as he could, and took that fatal Draught, in the Meditation, and Contempt of Death. Marcellinus, in a Deliberation upon Death, called several of his Friends about him: One was fearful, and advised what he himself would have done in the Cafe: Another gave the Counsel which he thought Marcellinus would like beft: But a Friend of his, that was a Stoick, and a stout Man, reafoned the Matter to him after this Manner; Marcellinus, do not trouble yourself as if it were fuch a mighty Business that you have now in hand; 'tis nothing to live; all your Servants do it, nay, your very Beasts too; but to die honeftly, and refolutely, that's a great Point. Confider with yourself, there's nothing pleasant in Life, but what you have tafted already, and that which is to come is but the fame over again: And how many Men are there in the World that rather chufe to die, than to fuffer the naufeous Tediousness of the Repetition ? Upon which Difcourfe he fasted himself to Death. It was the Cuftom of Pacuvius to folemnize in a kind of Pageantry, every Day his own Funerals. When he ha