Part 7

XL. All those voluntary poor, who are not so in the gospel sense, and for that reason, not comprehended in the benediction of Christ, are the pests of the states they inhabit, or where they strole about. They live well, not only without being of the least advantage, but are even an injury to the community. Like the ants, they are serviceable to themselves only, and a nuisance in the place where they make their nests, and where they run about. For which reason, they are not tolerated in any republic, that is governed by the maxims of good policy.

XLI. Disabled or impotent beggars, are legitimate creditors of our compassion. There is notwithstanding, great difference among those of this class. Those who are afflicted with habitual disorders, it cannot be denied, are very miserable, and especially if they do not sweeten their toil, with a due resignation to the divine will; but if they do, they will become the most happy, or those, who fall within our Saviour’s description of the most fortunate. The disabled by the loss of a limb, or by a defect in the organization of parts of their bodies, if they have a tolerable share of ingenuity, and have the art of begging with address, fare admirably; and not a few of them, have left behind at their deaths decent sums of money. Those who are ill-favoured, and ugly, find it difficult to subsist, especially, if nastiness in their persons, is joined to the deformity of their bodies. The error into which people fall, in the ordinary distribution of charity in this particular, is great, they being apt to deal out their bounty with an unequal hand. The beggar, who has a pleasing and moving way of painting his distress, is relieved by almost every one, and more especially if he has a good countenance, and looks clean in his shabby dress. There is scarce any body who does not shun and loath the ill-favoured and driveling poor: but we ought to remember, that Christ our Lord, is as much the representative of the one, as of the other; and as a Redeemer, is rather inclined to favour those of the most displeasing and despicable aspect: thus Isaias describes him in his most sacred passion, _Non est species ei, neque decor_: and a little lower, _Quasi absconditus vultus ejus, & despectus_. And that christian piety should not despise, or avoid those who are afflicted with loathsome diseases, the same Prophet compares our Saviour to the lepers, _Nos putavimus eum quasi leprosum_.

XLII. But without having recourse to so high a motive, natural reason will instruct us sufficiently, that we should not only distribute equally, but exceed in our donations, to those who are deformed and of an unhappy aspect, because these last experience the most sufferings, and are in the greatest necessity. The others, as I observed before, will never want any body to assist them with more than they stand in need of. The first require pity to be exerted in their favour with all its force, although their ungrateful appearance should strike us with horror. And I protest for myself, the alms which the narrowness of my fortune will permit me to bestow, is distributed, much more in favour of those of a disgusting and a forbidding aspect, than in favour of those who have a persuasive manner, and a winning outward appearance.

XLIII. But it is proper that I should repeat, that I did not intend to take into the comparison I have been making, the sort of poor I have just described; but those only, who procure themselves food, raiment, and shelter, by the sweat of their brow, proportioned to the necessities of nature, without advancing to any kind of exceeding. This is what I call humble fortune, and that which I judge to be at least equal to the exalted and brilliant, enjoyed by the opulent and great; and it seems to me, that I have sufficiently proved it so. But I judge also, that the condition of those who are placed in a middle station of life, is preferable to either of them. I mean such as possess a moderate income, and can go through life, without experiencing the pinchings of the one state, or the troubles incident to the want of accommodations of the other.

SECT. XI.

XLIV. I have hitherto treated of the happiness of men, by making an estimate of it, according to their situations or conditions of life; abstracted from any particular accidents, that may intervene or occur to individuals of both sorts, both high and low; there being no doubt but humble fortune, is also exposed to terrible reverses and mortifying disgusts, although not so frequently as the exalted.

XLV. But if I am asked, whom I repute absolutely happy or unhappy among mortals? With respect to the happy, I answer with a sentence of the great Chancellor Bacon, in his book entitled _Interiora Rerum_: where he says, I judge those to be happy, whose mode of living is proportioned to their genius or inclination: _Felices dixerim, quorum indoles naturalis cum vitæ suæ genere congruit_: a decision, worthy of the superior talents of that incomparable Englishman. I think, notwithstanding, there should be some limitation added to the sentence, which is, that the genius or inclination should not be a vicious one, for in that case the person would be always unhappy. The ambitious man, for example, although he finds himself in the occupation of high posts, is ever restless and anxious to rise to others still higher. The covetous man, even when he is overloaded with riches, labours and toils to add fresh treasures to his heap. The opulent glutton fills himself with meat and drink, but he also fills himself with diseases, which afterwards, turn all he has eaten and drunk to bitterness.

XLVI. With the limitation I have mentioned, I esteem the sentence a very true one. Temporal conveniences are all relative, and there is as much variance in the genius of men with respect to the application of them, as there is in their inclinations with respect to the food they fancy. What one esteems good, another thinks bad. God only is good, and savory to all men. This man disdains the lot, which that adores; and one grasps the thing, which another despises. Cæsar, when he was going to Spain, in his passage over the Alps, came to a very poor little village, where one of his companions, in a conversation which turned on the misery of the inhabitants, asked another sneeringly, if he thought these Barbarians also, had their questions and disputes, about who should command and govern. To which Cæsar replied quickly, saying, “I assure you, I had much rather be the first man in this village, than the second at Rome.” The learned Fleming Nicholas Clenard, went over to Africa, with an intention of learning Arabic, and remained two years in the kingdom of Fez, from whence he wrote often to his friends; and in his letters assured them, that he never was in a place, the customs of which suited so well with his genius, for this reason only, because in that kingdom, they had not such a multitude of laws, nor were their litigations so prolix, as in Europe; all disputes being instantly determined by the magistrate in a summary way. This method suited well with the disposition of Clenard, who abhorred extremely, the endless windings and turnings of processes in our tribunals. George Paschio, relates of him in his Book, _de Novis Inventis_, though what he says is not true, that on this account only, he left his own country and went to live in Fez. To this it may be replied, that it appears from the testimony of many authors, his return to Spain was voluntary; from whence, after teaching languages some time in the University of Salamanca, he went to the Court of Lisbon, where he was engaged as a tutor to the Prince of Portugal, brother of King John the Third.

XLVII. This great variety in the genius and dispositions of men, and not the platonic love of their country, is the true cause why many find themselves satisfied in miserable and unpleasant regions, and refuse to leave them for others more happily situated. Ovid having observed, that some Scythians, who were brought to Rome, never missed an opportunity of flying back to their own steril bleak country, which was the place of their nativity, attributes their doing so to an occult affection for home, (that he himself, with all his explanatory powers, could not hit upon the explanation of,) which, like a sympathetic faculty, or magnetic virtue, attracts every man to his own country, and at last leaves it undefined, with a sort of declaration, that he does not know what it is:

_Nescio qua natale solum dulcedine cunctos_ _Tangit, & immemores non sinit esse sui._ _Quid melius Roma? Scythico quid frigore pejus?_ _Huc tamen ex illa barbarus urbe fugit._

XLVIII. It is owing to none of all this, nor was it the effect of a mysterious magic, which charms and enchants men to be fond of their own country, which induced the Scythians to leave the soft habitations of Rome, for the frozen regions of Scythia; for we every day see men, who to improve their fortunes leave their native homes, sometimes never to return again; but it does not follow from thence, that they cease to love their country. The place where I write this abounds in such examples. The true reason of this political phænomenon is, that the mode of the Scythians living in their own country, was proportioned and suited to their natural genius and disposition. The same thing happens with respect to the Laplanders, a Northern nation, situated between Norway, Sweden, and Russia, on the coasts of the Frozen Sea. These Barbarians live in a continual state of war, with an immense number of bears and wolves, and in a country full of lakes, and almost always covered with snow. Many of them at various times have been brought to Germany; but notwithstanding they were well accommodated, and had a good maintenance assigned them, there never was one, who, when an opportunity offered, did not fly back to his own country.

XLIX. True temporal felicity, consists, in attaining that state or mode of life, which the genius or inclination of a man prompts him to wish or desire. Conveniences with respect to the soul, may be compared to clothes with respect to the body, it not being possible to bring those, which in appearance are best made, to suit well with, or to fit every shape.

L. There are however some of such flexible tempers, that they can accommodate themselves to every kind of fortune, and be content to live within the limits of its extension; some dispositions of soft wax, who at will, can conform themselves in such a manner, that every thing sits easy on them. Nothing inquiets them, because the softness of their texture gives way to every impulse. They enlarge and contract themselves, in proportion to the limits of the walk which is allowed them. They rise without fatigue, and they descend without violence. In their own docility, they find the honey, which edulcorates every sort of acid. They are of so happy a temperament, that provided they don’t want what is absolutely necessary, they are contented in every station. The wheel of their mind is concentrical with the wheel of their fortune, and let this last turn as it will, they with great facility turn themselves to correspond with it. They bear their fortune within themselves, let them move whichever way they will. It cannot be denied, that there are but few people of this sweet disposition; but it should be also confessed, that such are the truly happy, and that only the saints themselves can be more so, because they are either without the circle of the wheel, or placed in the center of it, so that its turnings can neither raise them to pride, nor precipitate them to contempt.

SECT. XII.

LI. We have said which are the absolutely happy: but who are the absolutely unhappy? Those, whose destiny have drawn them into a train of life, which is contrary to their genius or disposition. The violence done their inclination is constant, and therefore, their disgust is constant also. That which would be sweet to others, is bitter to them. Fortune could certainly, without adding fresh goods, make people more happy; it might be done at no more cost, than permitting them to change stations and employments, as from envying each other, when they have nothing to be envious of, springs the mischief. The bird from his cage, sees with envy, the stone mount and fly with freedom through the air, but the ascent is a greater violence to the stone, than the confinement to the bird. The poor man looks with envy on him he sees idolized on a throne. The Prince burns with impatience, because he cannot taste the liberty enjoyed by the poor person.

LII. Some are made unhappy by fortune, and there are others who are so by nature. Those I say, who in their own proper genius and tempers, find their greatest enemy; discontented men, who are pleased with nothing, but are always loathing what they are in present possession of; who although they should frequently change their fortunes, would find no other effect from it, than they would from changing their shirts, which after ten or twelve days wear would be ready to poison them. These people live in a continual opposition to the movements of Fortune, notwithstanding which, they are dragged on, and obliged to obey the impulse of the wheel, being compelled by force and violence; or like the stars, which are constrained to follow the movements of the sphere to which they are attached, although they are always endeavouring at a motion, opposite to that of the orb which agitates them. These are sickly souls, whose stomachs turn at all sorts of food, and there are not a few of such men in the world.

THE MOST REFINED POLICY.

SECT. I.

I. The center of all the political doctrine of Machiavel, is placed in that cursed maxim of his, that in the application of temporal means, the semblance or appearance of virtue is useful; real virtue, or virtue itself, is an obstacle. From this point issues forth, in right lines, the poison, to the whole circumference of that pernicious system. All the world abominates the name of Machiavel, and almost all the world are his followers. Although, to speak the truth, the practice of the world is not taken from the doctrine of Machiavel; but the doctrine of Machiavel, is rather taken from the practice of the world. This depraved genius taught, in his writings, that which he had studied in men. The world was the same before Machiavel, which it is at present, and they deceive themselves greatly, who think, that the ages continued to grow worse, as they continued to succeed one another. The golden age never existed but in the imaginations of the poets; the happiness they feign to have prevailed in it, was enjoyed by only one man, and one woman, Adam and Eve; and continued so short a space of time, that so far from lasting an age, according to many fathers, it did not endure an entire day.

II. You need only examine history, both sacred and profane, to be informed, that the policy of the antients was not better than that of the moderns; and I for my part, am inclined to think it was worse; for they scarce knew any other road to the temple of Fortune, than that which was either laid open by violence, or fabricated by deceit. Good faith and friendship, lasted as long as people found it their interest to preserve them. Religion and justice, served as footstools to the idol of convenience. Ovid and Aulus Gellius relate, that when Tarquin resolved to build the great temple of the capitol to the honour of Jupiter, he demolished, in order to make room for it, the temples of many inferior Gods, who were all obliged to give way to Jupiter; but the God Terminus, or the patron of interest and convenience, refused to cede or make way for Jupiter himself, so he maintained his ground, and his statue kept its place in the capitol, jointly with that of Jupiter:

_Terminus, ut veteres memorant, conventus in urbe_ _Restitit, & magno cum Jove templa tenet._

III. This fiction discovers to us the following truth, that the object of men’s pursuits is their own convenience, which they are ever strenuous and anxious to promote; and this is the deity, who never cared to cede or give place to Jupiter himself, for from the most antient times, _ut veteres memorant_, interest has ever disputed the precedence with religion.

IV. Polybius lived a great while ago, and in his time they had not only one, but many Machiavels, who taught, that the management of public affairs was impracticable, without the aid of deceit and treachery: _Non desunt, qui in tam crebro usu doli mali necessarium eum esse dicant ad publicarum rerum administrationem_ (Lib. 13. Histor.) Although you may see in Lucan, the fundamental doctrine of Machiavel more strongly expressed than it is in the above sentence, by the abandoned Phocion, in the speech he made to Ptolemy King of Egypt, to prevail with him, in violation of gratitude, and in breach of his plighted word, to take away the life of the great Pompey;

_Sidera terra_ _Ut distant, & flamma mari sic utile recto._

V. This is precisely saying, that virtue is always in a state of warfare with private utility, and that to negotiate convenience, it is necessary to abandon justice. A little after he adds, that he who resolves to be merciful and just, should banish himself from courts, for there, vice only is patronized:

_Exeat aula_ _Qui vult esse pius._

VI. This is the creed, not of a few people only, but of the world at large, and it has been so in all times. What Machiavel, Hobbes, and other infamous politicians have inserted in their works, is the same which you hear every day in juntos of people; to wit, that virtue is neglected, that vice is caressed and exalted; that truth and justice are banished from courts; and that flattery and lying are the wings, with which people ascend to high stations. But this I suppose to be an error, and that it ought to be classed in the catalogue of common errors, and in my reasoning on this subject, I shall undertake to demonstrate that it is one, by informing mankind, that contrary to the opinion of the world, the most refined, and the most safe policy, is that which is founded in justice and truth.

SECT. II.

VII. I shall begin with confessing, that those who aspire at being usurpers, can never attain their ends, but by wicked means, because to the goal of insolence, there is no road through the land of virtue. But who will say these are subtil politicians? They are the most blind and mistaken of all, because they pursue a road, that is all over drenched with blood. Very few have travelled through it, who before they arrived at the point in view, have not lost their lives in a violent and an ignominious manner. You hardly see any thing in this whole rout, but men hanging on gibbets, carcasses extended on scaffolds, limbs torn off by wild beasts, and the ashes of victims, who have been sacrificed to the vengeance of the party offended. You may find here or there one, who, by pursuing this road, has at the end of his career attained sovereignty. But is the accidental success of one or two lucky people, a counterbalance to so horrid and bloody a spectacle? Who will be encouraged to trust himself in a sea, strewed with rocks, and covered with wrecks and dead bodies, because in the course of many ages, three or four vessels which have navigated it, have arrived safe at their desired port? We should add, to the hazard of shipwreck, the toils and terrors of the navigation; for it is certain, that those who navigate a sea of danger and horror, before their catastrophe, endure a tempest within their souls. Those who from private people aspire at being sovereigns, lead a life of perpetual alarms and anxiety, in order afterwards to die with ignominy: so that their toil and their danger remain cemented to their fortune, even after they have accomplished or succeeded in their undertaking; for all tyrants live in terror, and rarely or never die in their beds. But how can such as these be considered even as middling politicians? Policy, in the sense we here use the word, means the art of negotiating one’s own convenience. But what convenience can a man find, by travelling through a laborious life to a violent death? I say, that so far from contemplating such people as able politicians, we ought to esteem them consummate fools.

VIII. There are however, some among them, who by calling them fools, you do not say enough of; as they give cause to have themselves pronounced raving mad men; such, as when they see they are advancing to a lofty precipice, will attempt to scale the height; people, emulous of vain exaltations, who that they may shine on high, consent to be reduced to ashes, and who prefer the shortest life elevated in air, to a long duration on the humble earth. These take to themselves the motto of Saavedra, _dum luceam peream_; provided they shine, they are indifferent about being consumed. Such was the ambitious Agrippina, who, when the Chaldeans told her her son would obtain the empire, but that he would take away her life, answered spiritedly, _Occidat dum imperet_. Provided he reigns, I don’t mind his murdering me. Such again was Anna Bolen, who, finding herself condemned to death for an adultress, said proudly, They may do what they will with me, but they can’t deprive me of having been Queen of England; from whence may be inferred, that she esteemed it a preferable lot, to have been a Queen, and die with indignity in the flower of her age, than to enjoy a long life of honour as a private person. We should look with an eye of pity on geniuses of this character, not only with respect to their misfortunes, but to their delusion also; and we should degrade those from politicians to mad men, who knowing their danger, run headlong into it.

IX. I will go so far as to acknowledge, that some iniquitous politicians, have experienced the gale of fortune favourable for them, even to the day of their deaths. Philip, King of Macedon, and father of Alexander, was fortunate in almost all his undertakings; for which he was as much indebted to his craft and deceptions, as to his arms; and in his conquests, was equally favoured by Mercury and Mars; and if his injustice to Pausanias, in not caring to punish the abominable act of turpitude, which Atalus, one of Philip’s captains, had violently perpetrated on him, had not irritated that generous youth to such a degree, that he murdered the unjust Prince with his fists, it might have been said, that none of his wicked deeds had ever been prejudicial to his fortune. Cornelius Scylla manifested, that he professed no regard to any religion, by the havock he made among the Grecian temples, which he accompanied with such piccant terms of contempt and derision of their deities, as they were well deserving of; and though he was extremely able in the conduct of war, he was not less so in political subtilties; which made his enemy Carbon say of him, that in the person of one man, he found himself engaged with a lion and a fox, but that he feared the fox more than the lion. His cruelty exceeded the bounds of barbarity, notwithstanding which, he was wonderfully successful. He first triumphed over the enemies of the republic, and afterwards over his personal ones. Nor did his putting thousands of people to death violently, who while he was dictator were all executed by his order, excite a sufficient degree of public or private hatred, to occasion his being treated in the same way; but his natural death was worse than any violent one; for he died eat up by lice, in consequence of all his flesh by degrees, being converted to those vermin.