We are loth to restrain ourselves.

know nothing of it. Nay, Cato himself was said to be a drunkard; but drunkenness itself shall sooner be proved to be no crime, than Cato dishonest. They that demolish temples, and overturn altars, shew their good-will, though they can do the gods no hurt; and so it fares with those that invade the reputation of great men. If the professors of virtue be as the world calls them, avaricious, libidinous, ambitious; what are they then that have a detestation for the very name of it? but malicious natures do not want wit to abuse honester men than themselves. the practice of the multitude, to bark at eminent men, as little dogs do at strangers; for they look upon other men's virtues as the upbraiding of their own wickedness. We should do well to commend those that are good, if not, let us pass them over; but, however, let us spare ourselves, for beside the blaspheming of virtue, our rage is to no purpose. But to return now to my text.

It is

We are ready enough to limit others, but loth to put bounds and restraint upon ourselves, though we know that many times a greater evil is cured by the less; and the mind that will not be brought to virtue by precepts, comes to it frequently by necessity. Let us try a little to eat upon a joint stool, to serve ourselves, to live within compass, and accommodate our clothes to the end they were made for. Occasional experi

Let us practise frugality in plenty.

ments of our moderation, give us the best proof of our firmness and virtue. A well-governed appetite is a great part of liberty'; and it is a blessed lot, that since no man can have all things that he would have, we may all of us forbear desiring what we have not. It is the office of temperance to over-rule us in our pleasures: some she rejects, others she qualifies, and keeps within bounds. Oh! the delights of rest, when a man comes to be weary, and of meat, when he is heartily hungry! I have learned (says our author) by one journey, how many things we have that are superfluous, and how easily they may be spared; for, when we are without them, upon necessity, we do not so much as feel the want of them. This is the second blessed day (says he) that my friend and I have travelled together, one waggon carries ourselves, and our servants; my mattress lies upon the ground, and I upon that; our diet answerable to our lodging, and never without our figs and our table-books. The muleteer without shoes, and the mules only, prove themselves to be alive by their walking, In this equipage I am not willing, I perceive, to own myself, but as often as we happen into better company, I presently fall a blushing, which shews that I am not yet confirmed in those things which I approve and commend; I am not yet come to own my frugality, for he that is ashamed to be

There is nothing ill that is well taken.

seen in a mean condition, would be proud of a splendid one. I value myself upon what passengers think of me, and tacitly renounce my principles; whereas I should rather lift up my voice, to be heard by mankind, and tell them-You are all mad; your minds are set upon superfluities, and you value no man for virtues. I came one night weary home, and threw myself' upon the bed, with this consideration about me →→ there is nothing ill that is well taken. My baker tells me he has no bread, but, says he, I may get some of your tenants, though I fear it is not good. No matter, said I, for I will stay till it is better; that is to say, until my stomach be glad of worse. It is discretion sometimes to practise temperance, and wont ourselves to a little, for there are many difficulties, both of time and place, that may force us upon it: when we come to the matter of patrimony, how strictly do we examine what every man is worth, before we will trust him with a penny: such a man, we cry, has a great estate, but it is shrewdly incumbered; a very fair house, but it was built with borrowed money; a numerous family, but he does not keep touch with his creditors; if his debts were paid, he would not be worth a groat. Why do we not take the same course in other things, and examine what every man is worth? It is not enough to have a long train of attendants, vast

Moderation of Fabricius.

possessions, or an incredible treasure in money and jewels, a man may be poor for all this. There is only this difference at best-one man borrows of the usurer, and the other of fortune. What signifies the carving or gilding of the chariot; is the master ever the better for it?

We cannot close up this chapter with a more generous instance of moderation than that of Fabricius. Pyrrhus tempted him with a sum of money to betray his country; and Pyrrhus, his physician, offered Fabricius, for a sum of money, to poison his master: but he was too brave, either to be overcome by gold, or to overcome by poison; so that he refused the money, and advised Pyrrhus to have a care of treachery, and this in the heat too of a licentious war.-Fabricius valued himself upon his poverty, and was as much above the thought of riches as of poison. "Live Pyrrhus," says he, "by my friendship, and turn that to thy satisfaction, which was before thy trouble;" that is to say, that Fabricius could not be corrupted.

CONSTANCY OF MIND GIVES A MAN REPUTATION, AND MAKES HIM HAPPY IN

DESPITE OF ALL MISFORTUNES.

THE whole duty of man may be reduced to the two points of abstinence and patience, temperance in prosperity, and courage in adversity.

A wise man is above injuries.

We have already treated of the former, and the other follows now in course.

Epicurus will have it, that a wise man will bear all injuries; but the Stoics will not allow those things to be injuries, which Epicurus calls so. Now, betwixt these two, there is the same difference that we find betwixt two gladiators: the one receives wounds, but yet maintains his ground; the other tells the people, when he is in blood, that it is but a scratch, and will not suffer any one to part them. An injury cannot be received, but it must be done; but it may be done, and yet not received; as a man may be in the water and not swim, but if he swims, it is presumed that he is in the water. Or if a blow or shot be levelled at us, it may so happen that a man may miss his aim, or some accident interpose, that may divert the mischief. That which is hurt is passive, and inferior to that which hurts it; but you will say that Socrates was condemned, and put to death, and so received an injury; but I answer, that the tyrants did him an injury, and yet he received none. He that steals any thing from me, and hides it in my own house, though I have not lost it, yet he has stolen it. He that lies with his own wife, and takes her for another woman, though the woman be honest, the man is an adulterer. Suppose a man gives me a draught of poison, and it proves not strong